The Woman in White

I enjoy listening to the free audio books on librivox.org. The current book I'm listening to is The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins.
http://librivox.org/the-woman-in-white-by-wilkie-collins/

The story was written in 1859 as a serial and made into a book in 1860. It is a mystery and takes place in England. There are 38 chapters in this book...its a long one. I'll be working on knitting another Norwegian Morning or Bonnet Cap while listening to the book.

Women's work is never done!

Freedom’s Champion [Atchison, Kansas] Saturday, March 15, 1862

          KITCHEN MEMORANDA.—Potatoes to be washed—meat to be put to soak—lamps to fill—knives to scour—furniture to be dusted—silver to be polished—front entry to be washed—beds to be made—apples to pare—flour to sift—shirts to be ironed—dishes to be washed—beets to be cleaned—carpets to be swept—fires to be tended—dinner to get—pig to be fed—pudding to be made—a runt to the store—front door to tend—children to be waited on—baby’s frock to be washed—stockings to be darned—buttons to be sewed on the shirts—shirts to be done up—tea to get—griddle cakes—dough nuts—custards—ginger-bread—preserves—dishes to clear away—company—evening meetings—bed time.

           

         What merchant, politician, or president has a longer list of daily avocations than the good wife; and yet how little they are considered. The hard and constant fatigue of the mother should elicit a deeper sympathy and a more strenuous effort to lessen her burden. 

Daily Evening Bulletin [San Francisco, CA] Friday, May 8, 1863

RULES OF HEALTH FOR MARRIED LADIES.—Here is some advice which married ladies can bet high on:

            Get up at three o’clock in the morning, clean out the stoves, take up the ashes, sweep the front sidewalk, and scrub the front steps, nurse the baby, put things to warm, see the shirt aired, broil the mackerel, settle the coffee, set the table, rouse the house, carry up some hot water for shaving to that brute of a lazy husband, and dry the morning paper. By this time you will have an appetite for breakfast. Hold the baby during the meal, as you like your breakfast cold. 

            After breakfast, wash the dishes, nurse the baby, dust everything, wash the windows, wash and dress the baby—(that pantry wants cleaning out and scrubbing)—nurse the baby, draw the baby in his wagon five or six miles for the benefit of his health: nurse him when you return;  put on the potatoes and the cabbage (nurse the baby) sweep everything; take up the dinner, set the table, fill the castors, change the table cloth, (there’s that baby wants nursing.) Eat your dinner cold again, and—nurse the baby.

            After dinner, wash the dishes, gather up all the dirty clothes and put them to soak, nurse baby every half hour; receive a dozen calls, interspersed with nursing the baby; drag the baby a mile or two; hurry home; make biscuits, pick up some codfish, cut some dried beef, Catnip tea for baby’s internal disarrangements: hold the baby and hour or two to quiet him; put some alcohol in the meter; baby a specimen of perpetual motion: tea ready; take your cold, as usual. 

            After tea, wash up the dishes; put some fish to soak; chop some hash; send for more sugar, (gracious how the sugar does go—and 20 cents a pound,) get down the stockings and darn them: (keep on nursing the baby;) wait up till 12 o’clock nursing the baby, till husband comes with a double shuffle on the front steps, a decided difficulty in finding the stairway, and determination to sleep in the backyard. Drag him up stairs to bed: then nurse the baby and go to sleep.

            Women in delicate health will find that the above practice will either kill or cure them.

1861 Woolen Socks for the Army

During the war both sides printed in newspapers the same or very similar directions  on knitting socks for the soldiers/army. It is interesting the slight variations between the previous post from 1864 Georgia and these earlier directions from Ohio.

The Daily Cleveland Herald, [Cleveland, Ohio] Tuesday, October 22, 1861

WOOLEN SOCKS FOR THE ARMY.

            The army of sock knitters of course embarrass some new recruits in the ranks, as the girls of this age have not been brought up to “knit and visit” quite as industriously as their grandmothers. The following directions in regard to knitting woolen socks for the soldiers have been furnished the press by a lady of much experience, and may prove useful to many beside new recruits. The directions have passed muster with other veterans in the knitting service, and are worth preserving and giving heed to:

            The yarn should be bluish gray, No. 22, and the needles No. 14 or 15. Set twenty seven stitches on each needle; knit two plain and two seam rows alternately until the ribbing is three inches long; then knit plain seven inches for the leg, remembering to seam or stitch at the end of one needle. To form the heel, put twenty stitches on two of the needles, and forty-one on the other—the seam stitch being in the middle. Knit the first row plain, the next row seam, and so alternately until the heel is three inches long; then narrow on the plain row each side of the seam stitch for five plain rows, which will leave thirty one stitches. To close the heel, knit the last seam row to the middle of the needle, knit the seam stitch plain, then fold the two needles together, and with another needle take off the seam stitch. Then knit a stitch from both needles at once, and bind the seam stitch over it. Continue knitting in this manner until but one is left and the heel closed. Take up as many stitches as there are rows around the heel; knit one row plain; then widen every fifth stitch on the heel needles. Narrow once on every round at each side of the foot until there are twenty-seven stitches on each needle; knit plain six inches, narrow at the beginning and end of each needle on every third round, till you have seventeen stitches on each; then narrow every second round till you have seven—then every round until the foot is closed. One pound of yarn, costing from seventy five cents to one dollar, will furnish four pairs of socks.

            The proper quality and price of the woolen yarn, individual knitters and societies that purchase should look to. The Cleveland Worsted Company are engaged in manufacturing yarns on Bank street in this city. This company have very kindly offered to sell woolen yarn to those wishing to knit for soldiers at wholesale prices and are furnishing for that purpose good and durable yarn at 75 cents a pound. They keep the number of woolen yarn mentioned in the above directions, and which the Soldiers’ Aid Society in this city purchase for socks and give out to knit to such women as are anxious to do something for the good cause, but are not able to furnish the yarn. In this way many willing fingers are employed, and rich payment is received in the thankful soldier’s blessings. That the quality of the yarn is good and the price reasonable, is evidenced by the frequent purchases made by Cleveland Aid Society, which studies economy and utility in all its benevolent labor. Would not auxiliary Societies in the vicinity do well to get their supplies of yarn directly from the manufactory on Bank street, and but a few doors South of the Aid Society’s depot in this city?

            We are assured by the Cleveland Worsted Company, that no cotton or rags have ever been made into stocking yarn at their manufactory. Rags are worked up for carpet filling when ordered. We think the Company are deserving public patronage from the fact that their goods may be relied on and are sold at fair prices, and that they are the pioneers in Woolen Manufacturing in this city, a branch of business we hope to see liberally encouraged.

Hint to the Ladies...the socks...are too small

Thanks to the internet, data bases and search engines, finding primary sources today is quicker and efficient. I love finding and putting together information from the past.  

The Macon Daily Telegraph [Georgia] February, 17, 1864

Hint to the Ladies.—As a general thing a large proportion of the socks that have been sent to this office and forwarded to the soldiers, are too small. We published, some days ago, instructions from a lady on the art of knitting, and our lady friends would do well to observe them. A tight fitting sock affords not half the comfort of a loose one and will wear out in one third the time.

Macon Daily Telegraph [Georgia] January 26, 1864

DIRECTIONS FOR KNITTING SOCKS FOR THE ARMY.—The following directions, which have been furnished by a lady of much experience, may prove useful to those who will engage in knitting woolen socks for the army. The yarn should be bluish grey, No. twenty-two, and the needles No. fourteen to fifteen:

            Set twenty-seven stitches on each needle; knit the plain and two seam rows alternately until the ribbing is three inches long; then knit plain seven inches for the leg, remembering to seam one stitch at the end of one needle.

To form the heel, put twenty stitches on two of the needles, and forty on the other—the seam stitch being in the middle. Knit the first row plain, the next row seam, and so alternately until the heel is three inches long, then narrow on the plain row each side of the seam stitch for five plain rows, which will leave thirty-one stitches. To close the heel, knit the last seam row to the middle of the needle, knit the seam stitch plain, then fold the two needles together, and with another needle take off the seam stitch. Then knit a stitch from both needles at once and bind the seam stitch over it. Continue knitting in this manner until but one is left and the heel closed. Take up as many stitches as there are rows around the heel; knit one row plain; then widen every fifth stitch on the heel needles. Narrow once on every round at each side of the foot until there are twenty-seven stitches on each needle, knit plain six inches; narrow at the beginning and end of each needle on every third round till you have seventeen stitches on each side; then narrow every second till you have seven; then every round until the foot is closed. One pound of yarn, costing from seventy five cents to one dollar, will furnish

furnish four pair of socks.

Life in a Stocking

I am currently reading articles in 19th century newspapers as I research knitting and stockings/socks.

The Pittsfield Sun [Massachusetts] June 30, 1859

Life in a Stocking

            Life has been likened to almost everything, and has been looked upon in as many different ways as it could be turned by Fancy’s shuttle in the rattling loom or busy brain. But in all the different ways life has been presented to you, have you ever see it compared to a stocking? If not pause a moment and listen.

At first the stocking is not a stocking, not the life a life, but each a skein of yarn, pure, clean and waiting to be reeled off. Sometimes, to be sure, the yarn is clouded, mixed and even grey, but with care it will all knit in and nicely blend together. There are no breaks, no tangles in it now as you look at it ere it starts upon its course, but thread is frail, the needles may bend or break, and a steady hand, must watch them now their life-work is begun.

            Look at the stocking and look at the life—stitch by stitch do they progress, and how nicely are those stitches all linked together, held by a single thread—the thread of the stocking and thread of life—and yet so long as the thread is unbroken so long will the stitches hold together.

            But see!—there is a stitch dropped, the thread broken and tied again, and it leaves an ugly scar—a knot—a mended life. The stitch dropped may be smoothed over, the broken thread mended, but the stockings, the life are marred; the first miss-stitch is made, the first warning given.

            There is magic music in the click of the knitting needles plied with nimble fingers, and there is music too in the click of Time’s knitting needles as he knit away at the young life, now laughing a merry strain, and again, one mournful as a dirge.

            Sometimes the knitting needles grow rusty and the half knit stocking is laid away; but the hands that held the needles first grew tired, were folded over the still breast, and laid to rest when the stocking and the life were nearly half done.

            There is a great deal of seaming in the stocking, and so there is in the life; more seeming than doing, the best foot put forward, the bright side out, and the seam stitches uppermost.

            There is the widening, too—the stocking grows, the life expands, the purposes grow stong, the hands qrasp for more—and then comes the narrowing. The thread has been held so loosely, so many stitches have been dropped along the life-road, the thread of hope broken so many times, that we begin to narrow in the life-stocking, to draw more closely within ourselves, and guide the needles with a more careful hand. Then comes the footing—there is a good deal of footing in life, a good deal of trudging—the foot-path is well beaten—the feet are grown weary and sometimes they refuse to go further—the life tramp ceases and for a while we rest.

            All along the stocking and the life there are black, red and white threads—those are the way marks.

            When you were knitting the stocking your mother put those threads in that she might know when your stent was completed, you “ten times round” knit, and you could easily pull them out again; but in the woof of life they are firmly woven, and if you brush the dust away they are as plain as ever; you pull them out, but in vain.

            In the stocking those way marks are only threads, but in the life they are great joys, and grief’s; graves which draw you down to earth where hopes and hearts are buried, and jewels that draw you up to heaven—yea, even jewels in our Father’s casket.

            As you glance back to the way you have come even to the casting on of those first life-stitches, you see a great many knots mended but not hidden, a great many stitches dropped, the thread held loosely till kinked and tangled, many needles rusted and broken, and a great many way marks you would brush with the dust away.

            The knitting goes on, the ball of yarn grows smaller, the life dwindles away, the stocking is almost done—then comes the toeing off, the last stitch is bound off, the thread drawn through and broken, and the stocking and the life are done!

The Moral of a Pair of Stockings. 1851

The Pittsfield Sun [Massachusetts] June 12, 1851

The Moral of a Pair of Stockings.

           

            The following letter was written by a distinguished literary lady, Mrs. W., of Troy, N.Y., and sent to a learned judge of New Haven, on the eve of his marriage.

            “Dear Cousin: Herewith you will receive a present of a pair of woolen stockings, knit by my own hands; and be assured, dear coz., that my friendship for you is warm as the maternal, active as the finger-work, and generous as the donation.

            But I consider this present as peculiarly appropriate on the occasion of your marriage.—

You will remark, in the first place, that there are two individuals united into one pair, who are to walk side by side, guarding against coldness, and giving comfort as long as they last. The thread of their texture is mixed; and so, alas! is the tread of life. In these, however, the white is made to predominate, expressing my desire and confidence that thus it will be with the color of your existence.—

No black is used, for I believe your lives will be wholly free from the black passions of wrath and jealousy. The darkest color here is blue, which is excellent, when we do not make it too blue.

            Other appropriate thoughts rise in my mind in regarding these stockings. The most indifferent subjects, when viewed by the mind in a suitable frame, may furnish instructive inferences, as saith the poet:

                        “The iron dogs, the fuel and tongs,

                        The bellows that have leathern lungs;

                        The firewood, ashes, and the smoke,

                        Do all to righteousness provoke.”

            But to the subject. You will perceive that the tops of these stocking (by which I suppose courtship to be represented) are seamed, and by means of seaming are drawn into a snarl; but afterwards comes a time when the whole is made plain and continues so to the end and final toeing off. By this I wish to take occasion to congratulate your self that you are now through with seeming, and have come to plain reality. Again, as the whole of these comely stockings was not made at once, but by the addition of one little stitch after another, put in with skill and discretion, until the whole presents the fair and equal piece of work which you see, so life does not consist of one great action; but millions of little ones combined; and so may it be with your lives. No stitch dropped when duties are to be performed; no widening made where but principles are to be reproved, or economy is to be preserved; neither seeming nor narrowing where truth and generosity are in question.

            Thus every stitch of life made right and set in the right place: none either too large or too small, to tight or too loose; thus you may keep on your smooth and even course—making existence one fair and consistent piece—until together, having passed the heel, you come to the very toe of life; and here, in the final narrowing off and dropping off the coil of this emblematical pair of companions and comforting associates, nothing appears but white, the token of innocence and peace, of purity and light. May you, like these stocking, the final stitch being dropped, and the work completed, go together from the place where you were formed to a happier state of existence, a present from Earth to Heaven.—

Hoping that these stockings and admonitions may meet a civil reception, I remain in the true-blue friendship, seemly, yet without seeming, Yours, from top to toe.  

Alpaca Hose

Found some advertisements for Alpaca Hose...This ones for you my friend Deborah :)

The Arkansas Whig [Little Rock, Arkansas] May 25, 1854

Bargains! Bargains!

Dry Goods and Clothing Selling off at Cost.

…black, white and mixed Cotton Hose, black Alpaca Hose,…

Richmond Enquirer [Virginia] October 1, 1850

MERCHANDISE.

NEW GOODS.

VALENTINE, CRENSHAW & CO

Ladies’ black and white, plain and embroidered silk Hose and half Hose

Ladies’ spun Silk, Moravian and cotton Hosiery

Misses’ and boys mixed black and white Hose and half Hose

Ladies’ Lamb’s Wool, Cashmere and Alpaca Hose

Heavy woolen and cotton Hose for servants, all sizes

The Constitution [Middletown Connecticut] February 24, 1847

NEW SPRING GOODS...

Gloves and Hosiery.

Gents,…English, French and spun silk hose, Alpaca Hose, Merion, Cashmere, worsted and woolen House, Ladies cotton Hose of every color and quality; Misses Merion, lambs wool and cotton Hosiery, all kinds.

Boon’s Lick Times [Fayette, MO] October 10, 1846

For the Ladies.

We are now offering a desirable lot of the following styles of Goods, which we invite your attention to—

Lambs wool Cashmere and Alpaca hose,

Lamb’s wool and cotton                       do.

Telegraph and Texas Register [Texas] April 23, 1845

DRY GOODS FOR CASH.

NORH & BROTHERS

Magazine Street, corner of Common,

…mixed English half hose; brown and mixed German do; mixed French do; blue cotton do; gray cotton hose (for servants;) ladies’ brown mixed and black cotton holes; children’s white do do; Ladies’ black cashmere hose; do worsted; do Alpaca do; do mode color do; do white cotton do; do blue do do; woolen socks,…

The Jeffersonian [New Orleans, Louisiana] December 16, 1845

Marshall & James, Wholesale Dry Goods Dealers, No. 18 Chartres street, are now in receipt of their fall and winter stock of DRY GOODS, which they are selling very low for cash or approved credit, their stock in part consists of—

500 dozen Cotton, Silk, Merino, Cashmere and Alpaca Hose;