The 18th Century Shoemaker, by Amber Perry

I'm fascinated with the trades of the 18th century. So many important jobs had to be done everyday just to keep people's lives running. Of course, that's not unlike today, but the jobs back then--though similar in some respects were oh, so different.

Today I want to talk about the shoemaker. This humble profession was anything but dreary and certainly not looked down upon as one might thing. The shoemaker was an integral part of the community. From the lowly farmer to the high-society nobleman, everyone needed shoes-- and so everyone visited the shoemaker. Granted, if you were ultra wealthy you may have hired-out your own personal shoemaker, but that certainly wasn't the norm.

The tools needed for the trade were inexpensive for the most part, and easy to obtain if you lived next to a larger city where imports from England were a regular occurrence. For a journeyman shoemaker it would have been an inexpensive trade to start, whereas other trades such as printing or blacksmithing would have been very difficult financially.



Like today, you could often walk into a shoemaker shop and find already made, popular-styled shoes in various sizes. (Like the ones pictured at the top of this post--hanging in the shop window.) If you couldn't find what you were looking for, you could have them custom made, but then of course you would have to wait a day or so, depending on the workload of the shop. Everything from riding boots, to soldiering boots, to every-day shoes, to children's shoes, to women's dress shoes--the shoemaker made them all. And though at times we look at the shoes from that century and wonder how they could be at all comfortable, having been made with leather (though some were made of fabrics, etc) that conforms to your feet, I imagine they weren't quite as bad as we think. Yet, without proper souls and arch support . . . who knows! Perhaps they were terribly uncomfortable. I've never worn a pair, so I can't speak from experience. (Makes me curious though . . .)

What do you think of this trade? Is it something you would have been interested in? Personally, I think it would have been fun, creative and rewarding.

There is another excellent and recent post about this trade by Susan Craft, and her post can be seen here if you are looking for additional information.

Please leave a comment below and let me know what you think!

Blessings!

The 18th Century Printing Press by Amber Perry

18th century printing press

Oh, the glories of modern technology. Information is everywhere, and we can access it as easy as turning on our phones!

Well, back in the 18th century they did not enjoy such luxuries. To produce books, newspapers and other such means of education and information, the work was long, tedious and often backbreaking. On a recent visit to Colonial Williamsburg I took particular interest in the printing press. I am truly amazed at what people did day-in and day-out to make sure that the people of the colonies were well informed.

This was no cake walk! Typically a print shop would employ two to three men, but if it was small, the work could be done with one person--it just would take a very long time. The "compositor" gathered the type and arranged it in composing sticks and then into galleys, the "beater" would spread the ink--a mixture of varnish and lampblack--over the galleys, and the "pressman" would pull the lever once the carriage (the place where the galleys were secured) was ready to go. A lot more work than just sitting at a computer, huh?

Still want to know more? Or perhaps you think you could do this "easy" job, huh? OK! Let me show you what it takes to print only ONE page using 18th century technology, and when we're through, tell me if you still want to take up this all-important trade!



Step 1: Gather your letters

Ever wonder where we get the terms "upper case" and "lower case"?
Well, in the top case are the capital letters and in the lower are, well, the
lower letters. *grin* Once you have the letters you need, you can fill your composing sticks.
Remember to put all the letters in backwards so you can read it correctly when the print is done. 

Step Two: Fill the composing sticks and set them in the galleys. 
This job often took hours. A printer's day was not easy and often lasted up to 14 hours or more.

So, you've filled all the composing sticks and placed them securely in the galleys. Good work!

Step Three: Get your paper. 

Now, the paper a printer used had to be damp--not dry--to allow the ink to adhere properly. So, the printer had to wet all the paper before he used it. It needed to be just damp, not dripping, so he would wet the papers in a large vat of water, take out the stack and let it sit, until the papers reached the right dampness. Just another step in the process that seems insignificant, but is very important.

Hold your paper carefully. Since it's wet, it is more likely to tear--and we don't want to waste.
 Next, secure it in place.

Step Four: Cover the galleys in ink.

As stated, there were different types of inks used, but the ink of choice was typically varnish and lampblack.

Inkballs were used to adhere the ink to the galleys--this was the "beater's" job.

Make sure when you apply the ink, to cover all the letters evenly.

Step Five: Move the carriage under the platen and pull on the lever.
What's a platen? Oh, that's the thingy that goes up and down and presses the paper to the ink-covered galley. *wink*

Close the paper over the galleys, then move it under the platen and pull!! You will
need a strong upper body to do this all day long.

Step Six: Remove the paper
Wow! Finally, a printed page. Now, you get to do this over and over again until your newspaper is finished . . . 14 hours later. *yikes*

You should be very proud of yourself!

But, your work is not yet done. The paper--not to mention the ink--is still damp and needs to dry so it won't smear.

Step Seven: Hang the paper over the ropes near the ceiling (make sure the fire is roaring nicely during cooler months) and wait until its dry to remove it.

These are the ropes for you to hang your finished product on. Just make sure
that the fire in your fireplace is roaring nicely. That will help the drying go faster.

So, what do you think? Would this have been your trade-of-choice? Personally, I would have loved it! (And yes, woman were known to work in print shops, though not as a general rule. In case you were wondering . . .)

I hope you have enjoyed your tour of the 18th century printing press. Thank you for joining me!

What did you think? If printing isn't your forte, what trade would you have chosen?

Colonial Hand Quilting - Labor of Love

I'm always fascinated by the trades and occupations that our colonial ancestors held, especially the long hours they kept and the primitive manner which they worked, without the conveniences that we enjoy today. In my novel Pattern for Romance I've chosen to highlight the trades of a merchant tailor, mantua-maker, and a quilter. When doing my research I was fascinated to learn the interesting history of quilting in early America.

My heroine in Pattern for Romance, from an upper-middling class family in England, learned to quilt as a leisurely activity. Upon her arrival in Boston, Massachusetts under dire circumstances she turns to her skill and finds employment as a quilter at a mantua-maker's (dress) shop. Her painstaking, meticulous stitches earn her only a pittance and for this reason quilters in the 18th century were often accused of theft, a crime my protagonist also gets accused of. But alas, it is no secret that the hero will come to her aid so she won't have to bear the brand of a T for theivery on her work-worn hand.

There are many romantic notions about quilting and one of them comes from our early American history. It is a myth commonly believed that colonial women sat around quilting bed coverings as a past time. Most women in these times did not have leisurely time for such activities when there was so much work to be done each and every day.

Photo I took at CW.

You may be surprised to learn that some of the earliest quilted objects in America were garments, not bed covers. Before there were piecework quilts such as Broderie perse/chintz applique and Mathematical/Lone star quilts made from imported fabrics (contraband during the trade embargoes with Britian) there were whole-cloth quilts. The whole cloth was quilted to add warmth and style, thus the whole-cloth quilt. Beautiful patterns were quilted into the fabric to create exquisite pieces worn by men, children, and women. The lovely open-robe style colonial gown purposefully displays the quilted outer petticoats worn by women to show off the beautiful creations. I border on obsession when it comes to my admiration of these garments, here you can see why.

QUILT - A coveríng for a bed, a petticoat for a woman made by stitching one cloth over another with some sort substance between.
~  The New And Complete Dictionary Of The English Language, 1775

Open-robe gown and quilted petticoat. Heart: Wholecloth
calimanco quilt by Esther Wheat, Conway, Massachusetts,
about 1790, Smithsonian Institution. Whole-cloth quilt
by Lucretia Smith, dated 1776, Bowers Museum,
Santa Ana, California.

 

This calimanco and linsey woolsey quilted bed cover
was taken as a prize in the Revolutionary War from a
British vessel. Click through to see detail.

The warm and beauty provided in the quilted cloth were also used for bed covers and a research trip to the New England Quilting Museum in Lowell, Massachusetts afforded me the opportunity to see first hand some of the beautiful white-work, whole-cloth bed quilts. Unfortunately I was not able to take photographs, but the images are impressed in my memory and I'm so glad there are extant samples of the exquisite 18th century quilts for us to appreciate today. You can imagine how delighted I was when I discovered these beauties during my trip to Old Fort Western in Maine where museum interpreters are learning how to quilt whole-cloth as they did in the colonial period.

Let's not forget the quilting bees/parties that were held to make much work lighter. The women would spend the day quilting away and invite the men to join them at the end of the day to celebrate with food, music, and dancing.

For more views of colonial quilts please visit my Quilts of Love Pinterest board. 

What colonial occupation intrigues you? How do you finding pleasure in your labor? In your rest?

Happy Labor Day!

Women Folk
Massachusetts Quilts: Our Common Wealth
Quilt Index

Hand quilting at a quilting museum video demontration.