Tag: winter

Squirrel!

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Living History, making things, Reenacting

It’s astonishing to me, in a way, that I haven’t posted about this before, but shockingly, I have not. Remember the need to keep warm in Princeton? Tested on at Ti? A compromise?

I updated that garment and wore a nearly-completed version at Ti last February but never wrote about the new version: the Squirrel Waistcoat.

Wool hand-quilted to a wool backing and lined with wool, I wore this almost finished at Fort Ti last February, and found it comfortable and cozy. I had imagined its state to be far worse than it was: with a lining in need of piecing, mangled seams, your worst nightmare come true. But no: all it really needed was some binding adjustment, not surprising considering that I stitched the binding by candlelight while chattering away with friends over cider.

The back pieces weren’t bound at all, but because I’d imagined this needed so much more work than it did, I put it aside until now, when I know I will want it for a weekend in Trenton, and another at Ti in December. All it took was a little time, and accepting that the bindings will not match.

This wasn’t a long, involved project, really, though I spent lunch hours and evenings working on it last January and February. It is, as so many things are, about patience. Patience and good needles.

The construction was based on the quilted waistcoat I made two years ago, with a pattern derived from Sharon Burnston’s research, using fitting adjustments I’d made to an earlier jacket pattern (long since abandoned due to living in New England).

I don’t fully remember how it fits best, over or under my stays, but I’ll get a couple of opportunities to test drive the layers in the next two weeks. And in the meantime? Squirrel!

My Life as a Chair, or, Warm in Winter

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, History, Living History, making things6 Comments

Can I get an “Aw, yiss” for being warm outdoors?

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After the aftermath. Photo by Drunk Tailor.

They may not be the most accurate <cough>machinestitchedoffabolt<cough> quilted petticoat and waistcoat, but they sure do make a difference.

These aren’t exactly base layers– a white wool flannel shift would not be amiss–but the quilted layers make a big difference to a day in the cold. When I added up the layers, I came to 8 without counting accessories like neck handkerchiefs and stockings:

  • Shift
  • Stays
  • Waistcoat
  • Lightweight Wool Petticoat
  • Heavy Wool Petticoat
  • Quilted Petticoat
  • Gown and Stomacher
  • Cloak
The underneaths. Photo thanks to Drunk Tailor.
The insides.

It isn’t always pretty, but in cold, wet weather, function trumps fashion (not that I’m not pretty pleased with this upholstery). The waistcoat ties on, so you have some adjustment should your weight or shape fluctuate. The petticoat, in this case, works like every other petticoat, with the sole exception of a short pocket slit on one side due to operator impatience (this was finished just a few days before it needed to be packed for Princeton).

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Thanks to Drunk Tailor for more patience.

The quilted fabric (originally intended, I am sure, for a bedspread) is lined with a plain weave wool for extra insulation and body; the waist band is bound with wool tape, as is the hem. Down in the basement, there’s a camblet- wool batting- linen lining sandwich on a frame, ready for quilting, if I only I would drag it up stairs and start, and I know it would be both more insulating and more accurate.

Does it all fit? Well…pretty much! An open robe with stomacher makes it easier to fit all these layer underneath, and, happily, I don’t have the best sense of my own size, so my clothes tend to be a little bigger than they must be. Fortunately, historical clothing generally involves adjustable closures that make fluctuations and layering easy to accommodate.

After Anna B’s and Anna K’s comments on the overview of the event, I was reminded that these are the confessions of a known bonnet-wearer, and I will humiliate self for history, so in case you are wondering: no, I didn’t wear drawers of any kind, or leggings, or long underwear. A pair of silk stockings under a pair of wool stockings kept my lower extremities warm, but my nethers were sometimes chilly, in a highly specific, localized, but small way. I think this may be where the wool shift comes in– or one that fits a bit better than my current garment, which is a tad too large.

On the porch at Morven, a range of head coverings. Photo by Matt White
On the porch at Morven, a range of head coverings. Photo courtesy Matt White

When it comes to ears, you can see that we adopted a range of solutions. Ear-covering caps under bonnets, under straw hats, and under kerchiefs, were worn by some. At far left, my cap perched on top of my head, so I tied my bonnet on with a kerchief and pulled my hood over all of that. Mistress V (at far right) wore a cap, a kerchief and a hat (which was summarily removed in the afternoon, by Mistress S at her left). Mistress F, holding the cream colored blanket with a wide black stripe, wore a wool hood over a cap and under her straw hat. Wear enough layers– and the right layers, meaning mostly wool and silk– and you will be warm, perhaps even sweaty if you’re active. Still, I might trade in my “Hobo Woman of Princeton” look for a quilted silk hood if the right one came along.

Occupy Princeton

On By kittycalashIn Events, History, Living History, Reenacting, Thanks11 Comments
Morven Museum (Richard Stockton's house) under occupation. Photo by Al Pochek
Morven Museum (Richard Stockton’s house) under occupation. Photo by Al Pochek

What if they had a reenactment and there was no battle? Can you really interpret military history without a battle?

Why yes; yes, you can. And you can do it well, engaging and exciting visitors and interpreters alike.

Last Saturday, Princeton was under British occupation once again, as we recreated the winter of 1777 this past weekend. I joined the planning for this  back in October– I double checked– and it really started months before that. Many hands (and imaginations) make events like this work, but for me, the most exciting part was helping to produce an essentially civilian day of programming that interpreted the Revolutionary War in New Jersey. Yes, there was “a musket thing” mid-day, but that wasn’t the focus of the action.

The ink froze, but oaths were to be signed anyway. Photo by Al Pochek.
The ink froze, but oaths were to be signed anyway.

HM 17th Regiment made their base of operations/occupation the porch of Morven House (formerly Richard Stockton’s residence) while the populace of Princeton attempted to go about their daily lives in Palmer Square. Quakers found themselves pressed to sign the Oath of Allegiance to King George III, despite their protestations that they could not take sides in a war.

Quakers and citizens, surrounded by occupying troops, listen to the officer's exhortations. From instagram @thebentspoon
Quakers and citizens, surrounded by occupying troops, listen to the officer’s exhortations. From instagram @thebentspoon

Some citizens seemed all too eager to sign the Oath, though rumor had it that one had previously pledged his loyalty to the rebel cause. (Sources have it that by the summer of 1778, this miscreant will be exacting revenge upon his neighbors as a Retaliator.)

Vignettes were drawn from documentation like the Brief Narrative of the Ravages of the British and Hessians at Princeton, 1776-1777:

“Triumph on that Days Victory the noted third day of January 1777 when they took two men and a Woman that could not stand Prisoners one of the men being much younger then the other & haveing shoes on made his Escape The Woman being unable to march they left her so they had in truth none from Princetown to Crown their Conquest with but the poor Old Captive without shoes. This is the Renowned Victory Obtained that day near Prince- town Which (it is said) is amply set forth in one of the New York newspapers 1 to be a Compleat victory obtained by the Regulars over the Continental Army so far as I have Related is true according to best Information that I can get, And so far I agree with that news Paper that the Regulars gained a Victory over two men and one woman. …. In takeing these three Prisoners they violated three of their Officers Protections for the two men had Each of them one, and the Womans Husband had another Besides they are all Reputed Quakers…” (Brief Narrative pp 18-20)

Lance Corporal Becnel proved himself in the afternoon.
Lance Corporal Becnel proved himself in the afternoon. Photo by Al Pochek

The constant snow kept our shoes on, but goods were stolen, occupants assaulted, soldiers beaten, prisoners taken, and justice served.

Hardy visitors followed us from Morven to Palmer Square and back, and one of the most exciting moments of the day for me was when a visitor said, “Wow, so the [British] soldiers didn’t really protect you, did they? You couldn’t count on them to keep you safe!” This seemed a pretty good summation of our interpretive goals:

  • The British failed to win the “hearts and minds” of New Jersey residents because they turned liberation into occupation.
  • The British lost the war in New Jersey because they treated everyone as a traitor.
  • The revolutionary war in New Jersey was as much a civil war as a rebellion against the crown.

I count that a major win for living history.

Bellevue in the Rain

On By kittycalashIn Living History, personal, Philosophy1 Comment
Marble House, Newport, R.I. Bain News Service, Glass plate negative, 1910-1915. Library of Congress. LC-B2- 3547-5 [P&P]
Marble House, Newport, R.I. Bain News Service, Glass plate negative, 1910-1915. Library of Congress. LC-B2- 3547-5 [P&P]

Bellevue Avenue: in Newport, that’s a fancy street. I don’t spend much time on fancy streets anywhere I go, but I had a meeting at a museum on Bellevue so there I was, curving out onto the point on a wet, grey day that made everything look like a WPA photograph.

Newport, R.I.: Ochre Point, Cliff Walk. Library of Congress, LOT 9192. It can feel like Rebecca.
Newport, R.I.: Ochre Point, Cliff Walk. Library of Congress, LOT 9192. It can feel like Rebecca.

Bellevue runs down the eastern side of Aquidneck Island; the houses look out onto the water of Easton Bay, or across the street at each other, in the rare cases where they’re even close to facing.

It was a kind of mysterious trip; the rain curtained the street, hiding facades better than fences, and even listening to the kind of music I like, I could have slipped into an afternoon of pre-code films on TCM.

CALLBOX IN MRS. BERWIND'S BATHROOM - The Elms, Bellevue Avenue, Newport, Newport County, RI. Library of Congress, HABS RI,3-NEWP,60--29
CALLBOX IN MRS. BERWIND’S BATHROOM – The Elms, Bellevue Avenue, Newport, Newport County, RI. Library of Congress, HABS RI,3-NEWP,60–29

There was a for sale sign on one property (Sotheby’s Realty, of course), and for an instant, I imagined walking into the house and owning it, starting a life completely different from the one I live, with different people and places.

Isn’t that what we do, or try to do, when we dress in these funny clothes and inhabit these historic places? We’re trying to slip the bonds that tie us to the mundane, quit the quotidian, and live a different life and time.

I wouldn’t want to live in the Elms or Marble House, but moments of imagining, and truly inhabiting, a different world are what make living history so appealing for interpreters and visitors alike.