Fingerless Gloves

Lady and the Veil by Alexander Roslin 1768

Fingerless gloves have become a fad with the invention of the smartphone, right? Not quite. Not even close. tweet this

Fingerless gloves - often called mitts - were popular in Colonial America. Generally made of kid leather or silk, lace was sometimes used in the hotter climates or seasons. The gloves would cover the hand and wrist, perhaps even the forearm.

While certainly a fashion statement among the upper classes, who adorned them with embroidery and pearls, these mitts were also functional. Colonial houses were notoriously drafty and difficult to heat. Mitts allowed for warmth while keeping the fingers free to move. Some were true gloves with the finger tips missing, while other were more like today's mittens but stopped short of the fingers.

Late 18th Century Matron

Men wore fingerless gloves for hunting and for doing work that involved using their fingers for precision, such as bookkeeping or typesetting.

Women wore them for sewing and other needlework, for tending to the children, and for cooking. Upper-class ladies would wear the more mitten form, thus allowing their rings to show.

Gloves have been in fashion - even at least one type of fingerless glove - since ancient Rome. They have vacillated between function and fashion and still do. Our Colonial ancestors valued them for both reasons.

Next time you see someone tapping on their smartphone while wearing a pair of fingerless gloves, smile and remember that their ancestors had it right first.




PeggThomas.com

Debut story will release in April 2017 from Barbour - Colonial story coming in January 2018

Fulling Mills

Fulling Mill

In the beginning of the American Colonies, all cloth was imported from England. England already had a thriving textile industry by the mid-1600s. Some estimates are that 65% of the English economy was derived from its textiles. 

Although the importation of sheep was prohibited - to protect England's textile monopoly - resourceful colonists smuggled them. The hard-working Puritans were producing their own cloth almost as soon as they arrived.

Spinning and weaving is only part of the process of making cloth. Another important step in the process is called "fulling." Cloth straight off the loom is loose and sloppy. The fulling process washed out all the dirt and lanolin, then beat the fabric with wooden mallets (powered by a water wheel) until it shrunk and tightened into a usable bolt of cloth.

Wooden Mallets inside the Fulling Mill

After the cloth was pounded, it was brushed with a teasel head. Teasels are a dried flower head with hook-tipped spines that when brushed across wool fabric, will raise the nap of the fabric. The nap was then cut off with long, narrow shears. Next, the cloth was stretched over a long frame to dry.

Before fulling mills, this process was done by hand, or rather by feet. Stomping on the wet, soapy cloth took hours of labor to produce what the fulling mill could do in half the time with better results.

By the time King William III issued the Wool Act in 1699, our colonial ancestors were already providing cloth for themselves and were exporting the excess to other colonies and ports.



PeggThomas.com

Making Colonial Clothing by Cynthia Howerter

Because of my interest in making colonial clothing, I recently stopped by Margaret Hunter's Millinery Shop in Colonial Williamsburg.

18th century millinery shops provided virtually all of the fashion needs for men, women, and children. The word milliner is derived from the Latin mille which means "thousand." The name of the business makes sense when one considers that some milliners sold as many as a thousand different items.

I always thought that colonial women made their family's clothing, but this was not the case for the middling (middle) and gentry (upper) classes. Due to the large amount of time required to hand-sew garments, people in these socio-economic groups purchased their family members' clothing in millinery shops.

As an example of the time needed to make 18th century clothing, the petticoat (what we call a skirt) and long gown (jacket) in the photo below took about ten hours of labor from the cutting of the fabric to sewing the final seam.

Samples of feminine clothing are displayed in Margaret Hunter's shop. Shifts for young girls hang on either side of a woman's short gown and matching petticoat.

Men in need of a hat should be pleased with the assortment at the shop.

Because both men and women had their clothes made at the milliner's, these shops employed mantua-makers to make women's clothing and tailors to produce men's clothing.


In the photo below, a mantua-maker takes advantage of the natural light coming through the shop's window to illuminate the petticoat she's sewing by hand.

The outfit of this middling class gentleman, consisting of a white shirt, blue waistcoat, brown coat, and breeches, was custom-made for him by a tailor employed at a millinery shop. He would have also purchased his tri-corn hat, blue stockings, and buckled leather shoes at the milliner's.

This middling class woman's shift, gown, petticoat, cap, and apron would have been made by a mantua-maker at the millinery shop.

Millinery shops also made clothing and special items for babies. Below is a bumper hat for a toddler. Placed on the head, the padded headgear protected the wee one from bruising its head during falls.

There's much more I want to learn about colonial millinery shops and 18th century clothing, so I'll have to make another visit to Margaret Hunter's shop. I'll be sure to share what I learn with you.


Photographs ©2017 Cynthia Howerter

Award-winning author Cynthia Howerter grew up playing in Fort Rice, a Revolutionary War fort owned by family members, and lived on land in Pennsylvania once called home by 18th century Oneida Chief Shikellamy. Hunting arrowheads and riding horses at break-neck speed across farm fields while pretending to flee from British-allied Indians provided exciting childhood experiences for Cynthia and set the stage for a life-long love of all things historical. A descendant of a Revolutionary War officer and a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR), history flows through Cynthia's veins.



You can find Cynthia on Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, and Google+.

Mob Caps

Abigail Adams - wife of John Adams

The mob cap was a simple head covering commonly worn during America's Colonial period. It came into fashion in the early 18th Century and survived well into the 19th Century. It varied in size and style quite a bit from country to country and year to year. Early versions of the mob cap included side flaps that came down and tied under the chin. This was considered flattering for the more mature lady whose chin had fallen prey to gravity.

Mob cap with sides - not tied

Head coverings were necessary in Colonial days. Bathing was infrequent and a mob cap kept the woman's hair clean. And hidden. (Because they didn't bathe frequently.) Modesty also played a part. A woman without her hair covered was considered undressed. Mob caps were essentially for indoor wear. When the lady ventured outdoors, she'd cover the mob cap with a hat or hood. 

Martha Washington - wife of George Washington

Hat worn over mop cap

The construction of the mob cap was simple, a circle of fabric drawn around the head with a ribbon or band. (Although we see them made with elastic in reenactment clothing, it's good to remember that elastic had not been invented yet when these caps were popular.) Some were elaborately pleated, but most were gathered. The amount of fabric left before the band to form the ruffle varied from almost none to enough to shade the face. Depending on where one lived, the fabric might be linen, cotton, or even gauze, but all were starched.

Germany

England

Netherlands

Even after the mob cap had fallen out of fashion with society's elite, it continued as everyday wear for the working class and servants for many more years. In fact, it still survives today in most operating rooms around the country.

French Serving Maid Knitting

~ Pegg Thomas

Constructing a Red Cape

Reenactors at the Battle of the Hook - Two with Red Capes

I have a story where a red cape is one of the plot details. I've been on the lookout for construction of capes. So when Cynthia Howerter and I came across these lovely ladies at the Battle of the Hook reenactment last year, we had to stop to chat with them!

Below is the inside of the longer red cape. As you can see, it requires a great deal of material. I was told that the cloth, a bright red wool, is often available through reenactor sales suppliers.  You'll see in the pictures that follow, that the hood can be lined with white fabric.

Here it is fully pulled open. You can see the panel on the right, that I'll also show below.  So below we can see she is pointing to the seam that was stitched to hold the extra panels on the ends.  Note, above, that the material is gathered at the neckline where it meets the hood.

Below is the hood from the shorter cape. Note how the center of the hood becomes almost a cone shape when pushed through.

You can see from the picture below that the spacious cape comes in handy for keeping your daughter warm, too! Loved meeting these ladies.

 In the picture below, the excess lining is gently gathered and tucked inside between the wool and linen or cotton lining.

Here we can see how the fabric is not stitched together in this hood, but it can be, if you prefer. It is not required. This is a nice time saving if one is in a hurry to get ready for a reenactment event. Or if one is a busy mother with little time to attend to the detail for finely sticking down the gathered sections which is very time consuming.

I sure wish I had my own red cape. Alas, I still do not. And I don't think I'll be able to construct my own at this point in time. But this project does look very doable. The heavy wool does not really require a hem at the bottom. It can be cut with sharp sheers with little to no fraying.

Until I have my own red cape (which I'd love to have used with some willing young lady as model for the cover I have in mind) I'll have to content myself with looking at these pictures of these beautiful red capes!

Question: Is there some colonial garment that you wish you owned? 

Jumps vs. Stays, by Amber Perry

Being a writer is fun for many reasons. (Not to mention a lot of work!) But for me, the hard part is often the fun part: research! I've had a fabulous time researching the clothing of the mid-1770's. One thing I have noticed that I find particularly interesting is the difference between stays and jumps--particularly because there is little information on jumps what actually were and who wore them, as well as few remaining pairs of them, from what I understand. (If you know more, please feel free to comment below!)


Many fabulous articles have been written on stays--the 18th century version of a corset, if you will. So I won't spend much time on that. But for those of you who might not know, I'll give a brief description. Stays were worn over the chemise, to give that popular cylindrical shape. Laced in the back and/or front stays were sometimes pulled quite tight and a woman often began wearing them at a very young age. Below is a picture of what a woman's undergarments looked like. Though as you can see, this was not a "homemaker" of sorts, this woman would have been quite wealthy. She is wearing her chemise, pocket panniers and stays on top.

In this illustration below, you will see what a more common woman might have worn. As a woman of a working class, she might have worn stays more for help with her posture, as opposed to wearing them for impressing people with the shape of her figure.

But the thing that I want to focus on in this article, is the difference between jumps and stays. In my research (I actually first saw something about them on etsy.com, if you can believe it.) I came across something called jumps--a garment similar to stays, only . . . different. *wink* Immediately I was interested, and started looking for more information. But to my dismay, there isn't much available--because there isn't too much documentation! However, what we do know is fascinating.

Apparently, jumps were worn more particularly by the working class as an alternative to stays. They were cut very similarly to stays as well, but with little to no boning, allowing for easier movement, etc. However, that doesn't mean that women of higher classes didn't wear them, as well. They were worn to keep that similar "slim" shape, and if a woman didn't feel the need to be as formal in her attire, she might have donned her jumps instead of stays. It also appears that jumps were sometimes worn without a bodice or jacket on top, as you would have done (most of the time) with stays.

I WISH that I could have found a non-copyrighted illustration/photograph of jumps, but alas I could not. However, below I have included two links where you can find pics, and additional information.

I particularly enjoy this link: http://www.couturemayah.info/engjumps.html
Her in-depth description of how she made the jumps is fabulous, and the pictures are wonderful! I would love to own a pair!

Here is a link that shows a woman's undergarments, very interesting. With a great picture of jumps (and stays)--and this pair does not include the shoulder straps. http://www.villagegreenclothier.com/showroom/shifts.html

Also, I really must thank my good friend Shannon McNear for helping me gather these great links and information!!

If you happen to know more about jumps, or know of any links, please comment below. I would love to know more about this lesser known 18th century clothing article.

Colonial Clothing for the Common Person by Cynthia Howerter

What type of clothing did common people wear during Colonial times?  A visit to Colonial Williamsburg gave me the opportunity to observe and photograph several local folks.

While walking down Duke of Gloucester Street, I encountered a blacksmith (photo below) taking a break from his hot forge.  He wore a traditional white linen shirt that could also serve as a nightshirt.  In addition to breeches and coarsely knitted stockings, the blacksmith sported a thick leather apron tied around his waist for protection from flying sparks.

Note that his black felt hat has a round brim rather than being tri-cornered, and his feet are shod in simple black leather, low-heeled shoes with a brass buckle for tightening.

A colonial blacksmith

How did colonial men (and women) keep their stockings from falling down?  A single leather garter near the top of the stocking held the stocking in place.

Leather garters with buckles

Further down the street, I met a man who said he'd come into town on business.  While his clothing is more refined than that of the blacksmith, his crude walking stick – made from a tree branch – lets us know that he's from a more rural area.

A visitor from the countryside comes to town

The man's hat is tri-cornered, and at his neck, we see a hint of a white shirt with a plain collar.  Covering his shirt is what we might call a vest, but in colonial times, it was referred to as a “waistcoat.”  A plain beige coat is worn over the waistcoat.  Like the blacksmith, this gentleman is wearing breeches and stockings.  A leather-encased flask and a black leather pouch are strung under his shoulders. 

Because colonial men's clothing had few, if any, pockets, men had to use leather pouches or cloth haversacks - like the ones someone hung on a fence below - to carry their personal items, such as keys.

Haversacks made from fabric

Colonial women's clothing also lacked pockets, but the ladies were quite inventive.  Their pockets were attached to a fabric belt that was tied around the waist and allowed the pocket to rest against the woman's hip.  Women's pockets were worn under the outermost skirt - better known as a "petticoat."  The petticoat had a slit in the side seam allowing the woman to reach inside to her pocket. 

A woman's pocket

Sometimes women wore a pocket on both hips as two pockets served to make the woman look more, ahem, symmetrical.

This woman is wearing a pocket on each hip which makes her look symmetrical

Near the edge of town, I met two laborers who were on their way home after a long work day.  The young man is dressed similarly to the blacksmith except that he’s wearing a waistcoat over his plain white shirt.  The woman is clad in simple loose clothing.  A white cap covers her head, keeping her hair away from her face and from being exposed to dirt.  Both workers are wearing crude leather shoes fastened with ties rather than buckles.  When working, ties did a better job of keeping a shoe on a foot. 

Colonial laborers on their way home after work

Perhaps on a future visit to Colonial Williamsburg, I'll find some shop keepers and gentry, and we'll be able to look at their outfits.

All photographs ©2013 Cynthia Howerter

Award-winning author Cynthia Howerter loves using her training in education, research, writing, and speaking to teach and inspire others about a time in America that was anything but boring. A member of the Daughters of the American revolution (DAR), Cynthia believes history should be alive and personal.

Visit Cynthia's website: Cynthia Howerter - all things historical