An Intricate Love Token from 18thc. New England

Isabella reporting,

Earlier this year I shared a charmingly hand-drawn and intricately folded love token, or puzzle purse, created in late 18thc. Pennsylvania by a now unknown German-American. Called a liebesbrief, or love-letter, the watercolor token was folded in a complicated manner that made it as much a puzzle as a letter.

This week a very similar love token, left, appeared on the Houghton Library blog as a new acquisition for their collection. As with the Pennsylvania German liebesbrief, the identity of the creator of this piece has been lost beyond his initials: E.W. He was apparently a rejected suitor who created the token for his beloved, hoping she'd reconsider his marriage proposal. There's no word as to whether his ink and watercolor plea changed her mind, but I like to think that the token's survival over two hundred shows that she preserved the token - and said yes.

I won't paraphrase Houghton's blog post, written by our friend curator John Overholt. You can read it here, plus see more images and a gif of the token unfolding. But I thought it was fascinating that the two pieces - one created in Pennsylvania, and the other in New England -  were so similar both in their design, and their emotion. No matter the medium, love will always find a voice.

Above: Love Token, maker unknown, late 18thc. New England. Houghton Library, Harvard University.

Is It a Pelerine, a Mantilla, or Something Else?

 Loretta reports:

Continuing my report on my recent trip to the Historic Paine Estate, the Oaks,* I call on our fashion historians to play Sherlock Holmes.

The majority of items in the Oaks’ collection have very little historical information attached. In all too many cases, we know only the name of the donor—and sometimes not even that. In the way of clues, Jennifer Willson, who is working on organizing the vast treasure trove, has this to say: “ ... the bulk of these items were donated in the early days of the chapter after the purchase of the Oaks in 1914,  so from a 1910 or 1920 standpoint, the items were considered "old."  I can only assume that they were the former possessions of the mothers and grandmothers of those women and date them that way, since belongings tend to scatter to the wind after more than a generation or two.”

So that seems to put us in the Victorian era for the majority of the collection, but which part of that lengthy era (1837-1901) is the question.

This beautiful cape or mantelet or mantilla or pelerine or _______________? is today’s mystery item. The black has faded somewhat, but otherwise it seems to be in very good condition. It might have been worn as mourning, or simply as fashionable black. The bugles and fringe make me think “mourning.” What do you think?

And where would you place it on a timeline? If I had days to spend on the research, I could probably narrow things down quite a bit, but blogging is my side job. Here’s what my researches have produced in the short time allotted.

Do we think it belongs to the 1850s, like “le Bijou” of 1855? (elsewhere in this volume of Godey’s we see “the Rosaline” and “the Raglan”) or this article for 1856.

Or is it much later?

Demonstrating the trickiness of dating such items, this one is placed between 1860-1900.

I know the ladies of the Oaks will be grateful for enlightenment—as will I and many other readers.

If you’d like to see the cape/mantelet/mantilla/pelerine in person, this year’s remaining visiting days are 12 September and 3 October 1-4PM.  The DAR also holds a Christmas Open House in early December, with the Oaks dressed up for the holidays. The Historic Paine Estate, 140 Lincoln Street, Worcester, MA. For more info or special group tour scheduling, please contact the DAR Colonel Timothy Bigelow Chapter: col.timothybigelowchapter@gmail.com

Previous posts on the Historic Paine Estate, the Oaks, here and here.

Please click on images to enlarge.

The Trade (and Art) of Making 18thc. Trim

Susan reporting,

Silk trim was the final decorative icing on an 18thc. lady's elaborate dress, whether the last delicate accent to a costly silk or an important element of design on a solid-colored gown. I've written about trimming before, and most recently featured this spectacular sack-back dress covered with multi-colored trimming that brings the white gown to life.

While I was recently visiting Colonial Williamsburg, our good friends in the Margaret Hunter shop were busily recreating knotted silk trim for use on future projects. They were making a variety called floss fringe, sometimes called fly fringe (though the historical jury is still out as to whether "fly fringe" was a term used in the 18thc., or is a later expression.) Silk thread is knotted in regular intervals, which are then cut apart into short pieces, or fringes, marked by the knots. The ends of each fringe are brushed and spread apart for a tassel-like effect. Then these fringes are in turn knotted at regular intervals into a chain-stitched base.

It is a great deal of practice and precise handwork. In the shop, these modern young women estimated that it was taking them about three hours to produce a foot of trim. Their 18thc. counterparts would have been much faster, with trim-making being its own skilled trade. Working in teams of three (two to make the fringes, and one to complete the knotting), experienced trim-makers could produce twelve yards of trim in an average workday. Twelve yards was also the standard length, wrapped on a card for sale, with most trims costing about two shillings a card in the 1770s.

As a branch of the millinery trades, and, in a larger scope, the fashion trade, trim-makers were almost exclusively women. Smaller hands were more adept at knotting the delicate silk threads, and children, too, were often employed in making the fringes.

In our mass-produced modern world, trim-making might seem like a hopelessly antiquated skill. But Christina, above left, who is spending the summer as an intern at the shop, thinks otherwise. Later this month she'll return to her full-time job as a librarian and teacher, and she's planning to incorporate the 18thc. trim-making skills she's acquired with young children into her classes. Not only will trim-making help develop small-motor skills and manual dexterity, but it also teaches patience, precision, and making design choices of color and size. There's a bit of history in the mix, too, showing the kind of trades open to young women in the 18thc., and the skills that would have been prized at that time. Plus, in the end, each young worker will learn the satisfaction of making something, plus get a piece of trim to take with her (or him, for trades are less gender-specific now) to take home with pride. Not bad for an archaic trade.

Many thanks to Sarah and Christina for their help with this post.

Photographs ©2015 by Susan Holloway Scott. Videos courtesy of the Margaret Hunter Shop, Colonial Williamsburg.

Breakfast Links: Week of August 3, 2015

For your weekend reading and browsing - our weekly round-up of fav links to other web sites, blogs, articles, and images via Twitter.
• When flirtation cards were all the rage.
• Archives of desire: a lavender reading of J.Edgar Hoover.
• Now available to explore online: Richard Horwood's wonderfully detailed map of London, 1792-1799.
• Yes, mainstream Americans were eating and enjoying sushi in 1905.
• The success of sweet smells: fascinating look at the golden age of perfumery.
• Image: Memorial scroll for a WWI nurse who died in 1915, returned "undelivered" because she had "no next of kin and no friends."
• Were the illegitimate children of Lady Hamilton and Lord Nelson secretly baptised in 1803?
• London's Ward of Bridge and Bridge Without: Magnus, the monument, and mice eating cheese.
• A short history of confetti.
• Silk roads: mapping Federal Boston at Mrs. Rowson's Young Ladies Academy.
• An unexpected architectural feature: spider-web windows.
• Image: Fantastic 19thc patchwork quilt made by three Welsh sisters.
• Shawls and wraps in 19thc. art, literature, and fashion history.
• Debunking a favorite food history myth: ice cream was invented by Dolley Madison...or was it Martha Washington?
• John F. Kennedy's PT-109 gold tie clip, and the story behind it.
• Before emails, letters from artists could be the best: one from Andrew Wyeth in 1969 with a pailful of blueberries.
• The fantastic swimming pools designed by architect Julia Morgan (1872-1957).
• Image: Who knew that astronaut Buzz Aldrin had to fill out a travel voucher for his trip to the moon?
• Ten of England's most beautiful and historical synagogues.
• New discoveries at Jamestown provide fresh insights into the lives of the early settlers of the first permanent English colony in America.
• "One and twenty daft days" in 1822: King George IV visits Scotland.
Image: Correct flapper posture in 1928.
• Toast water! Could the next foodie trend be coming straight from Mrs. Beeton's Victorian cookery?
• Scribbling the same as mere mortals: Sir Isaac Newton's college notebook.
• A newly discovered manuscript reveals what Thoreau learned about Margaret Fuller's tragic drowning.
• The philanthropic cat, 1823
• Blue Anchor Corner, home to one of Britain's most secretive organizations for smuggling in the 18th-19thc.
• Image: Loving this news story: "Thrashed by a Lady Cyclist."
• Study of an 1860 summer day dress.
• "It preserveth in vigour the principal faculties, enabling men to prosecute their Studies and tedious exercises": the uses of chocolate, 1672.
• The craze for Turkish baths in Victorian Ireland.
• Image: This daguerreotype from 1839 could be the oldest photograph of London.
Hungry for more? Follow us on Twitter @2nerdyhistgirls for fresh updates daily.
Above: At Breakfast by Laurits Andersen Ring. Private collection.

Friday Video: A Musical Interlude With Four Women

Loretta reports:

Today's video offers no nerdy history, unless we take into account the music selections, which range from Vivaldi to Kurt Weill.

The group is the classically seductive Salut Salon quartet: Angelika Bachmann (violin), Iris Siegfried (violin and vocals), Anne-Monika von Twardowski (piano) and Sonja Lena Schmid (cello).

Readers who receive our blog via email might see a rectangle, square, or nothing where the video ought to be.  To watch the video, please click on the title to this post.