For years, novelists, film directors, reenactors and a fair number of historians have argued that the seamen who served in the early American navy were free to clothe themselves as they chose, with little regard for uniformity. Unfortunately, this is just another myth of the early navy.  Senior officers, determined to shape public perception of the fledgling fleet, imposed strict uniform requirements on the men under their command. New research reveals that the Navy had a sophisticated procurement system to provide sailors with affordable, well-made clothing, even at the height of the war. Matthew Brenckle presents the myth-shattering results of ten years of research into Federal-era sailor clothing.

Matthew Brenckle is the coauthor of the forthcoming book Sailor Clothing in Britain and America, 1750-1820 (Scurlock Publishing). For more than twelve years he has examined the clothing of the laboring classes during the late 18th and early 19th centuries, a study enhanced by his careful reproduction of original hats and garments. Matthew holds degrees in archaeology and maritime history from Brown University and East Carolina University. He currently works as the research coordinator at the USS Constitution Museum in Charlestown.

Admission costs $5 per person, $1 for NHS members. Reservations requested. Persons with mobility issues should call in advance. 401-841-8770

King of the Lobby tells how Sam Ward, a colorful character with a Newport connection and brother to Julia Ward Howe, harnessed delicious food, fine wine and good conversation to become the most influential lobbyist of the Gilded Age. Scion of an old and honorable family, best friend of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and charming man-about-Washington, D.C., Ward lived by the motto that the shortest route between a pending bill and a congressman’s “aye” was through his stomach, he elegantly entertained political elites in return for their votes.

At a time when waves of scandal washed over Washington, D.C., the popular press railed against the wickedness of the lobby, and self-righteous politicians predicted that special interests would cause the downfall of democratic government, Sam Ward still reigned supreme. By the early 1870s, he had earned the title “King of the Lobby” and the style of lobbying he cultivated is alive today.

The Wall Street Journal writes that, “Jacob’s trim and surprising biography brilliantly shows how, in the hands of a master, lobbying can be lifted to the level of art.” The Washington Post commented that, “[Sam Ward] was an immensely able, influential and engaging character who has been rescued from obscurity by Kathryn Allamong Jacob.”

General admission costs $5 per person, $1 for Newport Historical Society members. Reservations requested; persons with mobility issues should call in advance. 401-841-8770 A book signing will follow the presentation.

BY JENNIFER NICOLE SULLIVAN

August 18, 2010

Trousers, the three-piece suit and the button-fly. Even the popped collar. What do they have in com­mon? Their fashion roots can be traced to the early 19th century.

In the Newport Historical Soci­ety’s latest fashion exhibit, “Dress­ing Manifest Destiny: Men’s Cloth­ing in America 1800-1850,” several pieces show that when Americans forged West to expand our land as part of Manifest Destiny, men also expanded their wardrobes to include key garments that have remained staples in men’s fashion.

Located in the restored 1730 Sev­enth Day Baptist Meeting House in the historical society’s Touro Street headquarters, the fascinating exhibit features a variety of men’s work, everyday, formal and militia wear from the era spanning the presidencies of Thomas Jefferson to Zachary Taylor.

“I think one of the misconcep­tions about men in this time period is you see old photographs and old paintings and they’re kind of uni­formly dressed in black. And you’re like wow, what a boring out­fit,” said the exhibit’s curator Matthew Keagle. “But early in the 19th century particularly, men actually had a wide range of color, texture and pattern options for their clothing.”

Throughout the 18th century, breeches — tight-fitting, cropped pants (think skinny capris for men) — were fashionable until full­length, baggier cut trousers, origi­nally a working-class pant, took off in the early 19th century and dra­matically transformed how men dressed. Only old-fashioned, old men still wore breeches through the 1840s.

Like breeches, the first trousers featured a fall front, a wide, rectan­gular flap over the crotch that but­toned at the waistband. Around the mid-1840s, a buttoned fly closure, similar to what we wear today sans zipper, became fashionable. On dis­play are a pair of off-white, knee­length cotton breeches circa 1790-1810 and a pair of silk and linen full-length trousers with eared pockets circa 1820-1840, possibly owned by a Quaker.

“And it’s (trousers) stayed until this day. Who knows when we’re going to go back to (breeches) because obviously fashion is cycli­cal,” Keagle said. (Hit the gym, guys — skinny jeans could bring us back to breeches!) In the heart of the Industrial Revolution, even before sewing machines were made in the U.S. in the mid-1840s, the clothing busi­ness changed dramatically when tailors streamlined the way they made clothing by piece-working the process — specialized pattern mak­ers, cutters and sewers worked together to produce clothing faster than a single tailor completing one garment. Therefore, men had more affordable, quality-made, ready-to­wear clothing options than ever before.

In a daguerreotype of an unknown boy circa 1845-1850 on display, the child wears a playful combination of patterns and colors — a plaid waistcoat, striped trousers and a patterned neck cloth—considered fashionable for the time. Men also could play with texture and color through neck cloths or cravats, which were knot­ted or bowed over their shirts. For early 19th century formal wear, men wore thick stiffened stocks around their necks covered with black silk, a flattened bow and fake white shirt tips.

Tailcoats moved from daywear in the mid-19th century to formal wear when the frock coat, a longer, looser fitting coat with a full- skirt­ed hem, became popular business.

GQ, CIRCA 1800-1850 Gilt metal buttons owned by promi­nent Civil War general and engineer officer Gouverneur K. Warren represent his entire service (from left, topograph­ical engineers, general staff and corps of engineers) from 1850 to the end of his career sometime after 1870. He died in Newport in 1882.

Early trousers, like this pair circa 1820-1840, which likely were owned by a Pennsylvania Quaker because of its extremely fine silk, featured a buttoned fall front, a precursor to a fly closure.

The 40-inch chest and 40½-inch waist of this tailcoat, circa 1840-1845, challenge the misconception that men were much smaller in the past. The top hat is circa 1840-1860 and the shirt and neckcloth are reproductions.

images courtsey of The Newport Mercury

At the Newport County Visitor’s Center (Gateway)
23 America’s Cup Avenue, Newport

Daily, 9AM – 5PM

This exhibit offers visitors to this City a reminder that Newport’s story begins before the American Revolution and continues  to develop today.  A glimpse of how the sea has been integral to our history is combined with suggestions of “Where to Go From Here.”

Tooth and Bone: Scrimshaw and Minature Paintings from the Collections

At the Newport Antiques Show
August 13 – 15th only
St. George’s School, Purgatory Road, Middletown, RI
Weekend admission to Show: $12

 The 2010 Newport Antiques Show will include an exhibit featuring exquisite minaiture paintings, including four by Edward Greene Malbone, and scrimshaw items from the NHS collections. The scrimshaw includes portraits of John and Henrietta DeBlois, a Newport couple who shared a three year whaling voyage. Curated by Jeffrey Egan, NHS summer intern.

Reveal of original window sill at the Colony House.

The restoration projects in both buildings included paint analysis, and the removal of some wooden elements for repair. In both cases, it has become clear that the original treament on wood paneling, staircases and windows was minimal — a clear wax or other treatment with a small amount of pigment. Maintenance records for both buildings seem to confirm that neither was initially painted inside. The Colony House seems to have had its first interior painting after the American Revolution. The Meeting House was painted during a fairly comprehensive remodelling some 30 years after it was built.

Why were these interiors not painted? Perhaps it was as simple as the fact that paint was expensive, and the wood was gorgeous.

Another busk displays a portrait of a sailor and his lady in an intimate embrace.  

Learn more about these pieces and other scrimshaw items by attending our workshop with Dr. Frank.

Quite a few of these letters have found their way into the collections at the Newport Historical Society. We are not yet sure how. Among them are also several letters from Brown himself, including the one shown here. In this letter, written from jail while he was awaiting execution, he tells his cousin that he feels no shame for what he has done.  He writes:

I suppose I am the first since the landing

of Peter Brown from the Mayflower that has either been sentenced to

imprisonment; or to the Gallows. But y dear old friend; let not that fact

alone grieve you. You cannot have forgotten how; & where our Grand

Father Capt (John Brown) fell in 1776; & that he too might have perished on

the Scaffold had circumstances been but very little different. The fact that

a man dies under the hand of an executioner (or otherwise) has but little to do with his true character…

Several Newport abolitionists supported Brown’s plans for an armed slave rebellion, and our archives will allow us to tell more of this story as we assemble the information.

UPDATE: Since adding this post, we have learned the  following from Louis A. DeCaro:

In the 20^th century, the master scholar of John Brown studies, Boyd B. Stutler, investigated this particular letter, from which a good many facsimile letters were produced.  He concluded that the original copy of this letter was in the hands of Storer College, a black college located near Harper’s Ferry, West Va.   He mentioned a number of editions of this letter and also which schools/archives possessed copies, but he did not mention your historical society as one of them. Regardless, unless your archive obtained the original from the long defunct Storer College, yours is likely a copy.

It seems that a lithograph was made from the original letter, and what we possess, most likely, is one of the lithograph prints.