what is Work?

The focus on most of my research is what many today would call 'women's work'. The domestic arts. Even though, for centuries, men were tailors, a lot of the sewing work was done by women. Women were paid less for the same amount of time, and many women were as good or better at stitching that their male counterparts. The majority of my work is on stitching techniques, but also cut (the masculine side of my trade). I am a fit and detail person. I am not a decorative person. In the period, I may have been able to find a husband who would run the business, and I would do the work.

And, I would likely have done the work.

Today, I work on creating garments for people, I knit stockings, and I am writing a dissertation on eighteenth-century clothing and personal material culture. I think a lot on how things would have been made, and by whom, and how to make those things as proficiently, and efficiently as possible.

Sometimes I even get paid.

I say sometimes, because I am not a fully funded academic. I am not paid to think about things as academics were in the past. Institutions do not fully fund their graduate and PhD students like they once did. We struggle with wondering if our work is a valuable contribution, or is that load of laundry a bigger contribution to the overall well being of our families.

When I think on life, there's not much of the day where I would be considered 'not' working. And yet, because I do not receive a salary, cannot contribute financially to the family, my research, or the economy, is my 'work' actually valid?

Things I think about on a now much cooler, rainy day. Knitting stockings for a living historian, and trying to think about how to efficiently make these things that we all need so that I might earn a bit of actual money.

I think academia has also become 'women's work'.

Living History 101: One persona will not fit every event

When I played in the SCA, it was fun and easy. I picked a character to play, made some clothes, and went to events. The Society is really relaxed about things, a European, between 600 and 1600, or a person who would have been in Europe during that time period...but even then, people push envelopes, and the requirement for dressing is a 'plausible attempt'. So, there are women of Elizabeth's Court who wear poly cotton T-tunics and nobody bats an eye. Nobody really cares, it's a closed event, for fun!

When you do living history, it's a whole different ball game. Historic sites 'hire' you for the day or weekend to portray a specific character in a specific moment in time. There is not 'plausible attempt', it's all-in or nothing, please. Most living historians have a whole wardrobe of clothing and accoutrements to suit several different months, years, and characters over a given period of time. Some living historians do several different periods in time, and so have several different closets of clothing and bits to pull from. They are essentially a theatre costume shop to go. And a lot of them can stand scrutiny of a microscopic level.

When applying to attend an event, I need to know the date the event is recreating, but also the culture, and what the site needs from me as an actor in their drama. Would I even be there? A woman of a certain age? Do they only need men, only soldiers? If women are there, what would they be doing? Am I just 'stock background character, displaced person circa 1774'? or am I actually going to have a job to do, 'Scottish servant woman, circa 1758'?

 It is not just what I will get out of the event, but what the event needs from me.

Actually it's all about what the event needs from me.

There are events, that while fun to be at, didn't hold my thoughts for long. I have come to realize I like having a job to do, I like working my butt off. I get bored being a background character. Thoughts run to scenes in movies where you see the same actor running back and forth down various streets in Louisbourg...I'm looking at you Gabe ;-)
It's cool if I can just hop in the car and go hang out for the afternoon and meet up with my friends for supper and be home in time for bed. But most events for us are still hours away. It's just not feasible for us to drive five hours, spend the night in a hotel, for 45 minutes of interp, then drive five hours home.
AND THAT'S OK! Again, the event is not for me.

The 250th commemorations are beginning next year, there are going to be some cool events happening, but they won't all be for me, or my wardrobe. I will be looking at each individual event, and their requirements before applying. Sometimes, if I want to participate, it may mean making new kit for Pierre and I, maybe even from the skin out. And I am cool with that.

and with that, before our next Ticonderoga event, I need to tie up my gown skirts and make a new petticoat...running up and down stairs in floor length skirts is hazardous to my well being.

Once more into the breeches

this week, I have started working on a black broadcloth suit for a vicar in the local regency era group. I love making breeches, honestly. But, there are many of you out there who hate the process. I have come to realize that a lot of that hate is from trying to make breeches by machine. Asking the machine to do things regency and eighteenth-century breeches had never dreamed of doing.

In short, there are different processes to sewing in the machine era and the pre-machine era.

Ok, So how do I start making breeches?

I start by stitching the centre front seams on both the fashion layer and the lining. This you can do by machine. Then I press the seam allowances open.

Next, I press under the top edges of the fall on both the fashion layer and the lining. I place the two pieces together, wrong sides together, with the lining just a hair shy of the top edge. Then, BY HAND, I fell the lining to the fashion layer of the fall. This nails the edge in place and creates that beautiful little 'top' stitch that you see on the edges of hand stitched garments. It can only be achieved by doing it by hand, since it is so close to the edge. If you were to achieve this same 'nailing down' of the seam, preventing the seam from rolling, you would in effect, have to do the seam three times instead of one. You would stitch the seam, right sides together. Then, you would edge stitch all the seam allowances to the lining. Then you would top stitch the whole mess. This machine method is not the greatest, and believe it or not, is also not the fastest. I have tested the theory, and found that I can accomplish a better seam by hand in a quicker amount of time.

Top of the finished fall, right side. Notice the sides of the fall have not been cut yet.

I then baste the sides of the fall and lining together, and then with a small running stitch, I stitch the lining in place through the crotch. The edges of the lining are turned under a scarce 1/4" through the crotch, but left raw along the sides of the fall, since they will be encased in the fall placket.

I still haven't cut the sides of the Fall.

Next, I press the fall plackets into shape. It's important to press them properly so that stitching them will be easier. Trust me here. I will say it until I am blue in the face, the steam iron is the most important tool in the sewing room.

You'll also notice, that I stitched up the top edge of the fall placket. I did that part by machine, and pressed the seam allowance open, trimmed my seam allowances, and then pressed the whole thing flat. These are all well pressed and ready to go.

Next up, I stitch the curved seam of the front bearers, those bits that hang out inside the fall for modesty. I baste-stitch the curve by machine, and then roll and press the lining to the wrong side. Then, I fell the two pieces together. I baste by machine, right sides together, then turn and press, because I can achieve a nicer curve this way then by just pressing the curve under.

I am not quite ready to cut the sides of the fall...

Right sides together, I stitch, by hand, the placket edge to the fall edge. At the bottom of the seam, I knot-off, but do not cut my thread. Then I cut the sides of my fall. I then stitch the bottom point of the placket into place, wrong sides together, using a little slip stitch. Once I have gotten to the other side of the point, I turn the work to the wrong side, and slip stitch the bottom of the backside of the placket in place, and then up the remaining side of the placket, encapsulating all the raw edges of the side of the fall. The whole process is done with a single length of thread, and one continuous seam. 

You just cannot do this process by machine as easily.

After the fall is nicely finished and pressed. I stitch the bearers in place, also by hand, starting off with right sides together, then at the bottom of the seam edge, I turn and stitch from the back side. I will also slip stitch the bearer to the bottom of the fall placket to secure everything nicely.

There! The hardest part of breeches making is done! At this point, long seams can be done by machine and pressed open.

The second biggest thing people complain about are pockets. in this pair, I am including a waistband welted watch pocket.

My first step is to stitch the welt to the pocketing, and press the seam allowances open. I have done this by machine.

Keeping the welt and pocketing to one side, I stitch the welt to the waistband, following the same stitches as before (between the pins).

on the wrong side, I have marked in chalk where I need to cut the waistband open for the pocket. I am going to cut right up to, but not through the stitching, or past it...this is important. If you cut too short, the welt won't sit properly, if you cut past it, there will be a hole, and you may as well start over again. you cannot fix the hole once it's cut.

At this point, I stitched up the sides of the welt, and pressed everything nicely from the right side. I can double check now, to see what the finished welt will look like. If I have cut the pocket opening too big, there's only one seam to carefully unpick so I can start over again with a wider welt.

Back to the wrong side of the waistband, I have picked up the bottom edge of the pocketing and will stitch it to the other long edge of the pocket opening, between the pins.

I press that seam open, then stitch the sides of the pocketing shut, catching the tiny triangles that form on either side of the pocket opening. I usually stitch my pockets by machine, running back and forth a few times over those triangles to fully support the sides of the pocket opening. I have also serged the sides of the pocketing, since linen frays. I have determined that the side that shows when the breeches are inside out, will be my 'good side' of the serging (yes, there is a good side and a wrong side to serging). Then, taking a darning needle, I have run the ends of the serging stitches up inside the wrong side of the serging. This is a couture/dancewear thing that keeps the serging from ravelling if you have just cut the threads flush. Leave them long, and then run them back through. It takes like 3 extra minutes but makes for a far nicer seam finish.

Ta-da! pocket. I have now stitched the sides of the welt to the waistband itself as well...thus the shadow line.

Finally, the edges of the waistband are pressed under, same with the waistband lining, and the two pieces are felled together. Waistbands finished and ready to be applied to the legs.

A few final notes: Sewing takes time, sewing seams properly, and by hand can sometimes take more time, sometimes less. The iron needs to become your best friend, honestly. Just enjoy the process of making, your garments will look better for it. These breeches took two afternoons to make, and are still in need of buttons, buttonholes, and knee bands...and a fitting in there too. You will not get a quality garment for less than the price of the material cost...even from Asia. 

Be well, make good breeches!

Regency on a Shoestring: Living the Federal era life right now

September will be men's wear central at the shoe. I have two suits to make over the next few weeks while Pierre is on course. I have tested out some theories and figure I should have no problems once I get underway.

The first is for a gent over on the island (Montreal). He's slowly getting out of soldering and is looking to style himself as a clergyman. William Booth, draper supplied some lovely wool broadcloth and worsted, and Club Tissue some nice shirt linen. Mrs. Milligan's Haberdashery supplied the cotton mull for throat and wrist ruffles on his shirt. We are going for breeches, waistcoat with standing collar, and a shawl collared, frock coat that is well tailored to skim his torso. A bit conservative in fashion, but there's enough imagery of breeches wearing gents in the period that I am good with it.

French Fashion Plate,1811

Portrait of a Young Man, Francois-Xavier Fabre 1809

The Skater (portrait of William Grant), 1782 (oil on canvas), Stuart, Gilbert (1755-1828) National Gallery of Art, Washington

These are the paintings I am using for inspiration. Yes, they span a bit of time, but I feel like the clergy should be a bit more conservative in dress. I did up a little fashion croquis and Jay was happy with the style. I will likely start cutting this week.

For Pierre, because we are going to be doing some teen-era and later stuff, I wanted to try a bit more fashion forward stuff. Fashion forward, but still practical, given our class level. Currently, we live on the south shore of the Saint Lawrence, in farm country, and I had thought about reproducing the quintessential French Canadian couple...

Canadiens, deuxieme moitie du XVIIIe siecle

I might yet, still, but for now, I want a bit more commonplace look for us. That means more of an American look, with French leanings because he is French after all, but, I want more early 19thC stuff than late 18thC, so the Canadiens will have to wait a bit...though if anyone comes across those perfect fabrics, please let me know!

Habit a Collet de Velours, Gilet de Pique, 1816

I did a test run of his trouser draft last week. I have to take in the legs to a more shapely fashion, the draft I started with was from the 1930s to get the fit through the hips I wanted. They won't be skin tight through the leg though, like I have seen in some artwork, but shaped. I made them up in a heavier linen, which may be wonderful for three season wear, but I will be on the (stash) hunt for some suitable wool for ones he can wear in February. His frock coat will be made up in the cross-barred olive wool that I made a suit for myself out of last Fall, I have just enough left over from that project for a coat. I may do the top collar in navy wool that I have scads of...his winter trousers and waistcoat may also be made out of that navy, we'll see once I get Jay's suit finished and I can get back to the less pressing suit for Pierre. Our next event is in February, so I have a bit of time.

There are noticeable differences between late eighteenth-century tailoring and the early nineteenth-century, most importantly, the collar and lapels. This is where the modern suit jacket starts to take shape, with pad stitched lapels and collar over more flexible hair canvas instead of the stiffer buckram. Wool padding over the front shoulder concave also make s a return from earlier in the eighteenth-century, and the whole garment has more tailoring involved. They end up taking almost twice as long with all that padded work. the m-notch collar is also an interesting bit of construction, best done with well fulled wool that you can cut and not worry about turning. When I made my spencer with it's silk top collar, I had to do some interesting facing work to be able to turn the inside points of the M. Pierre's collar will be wool, well fulled.

There are photos from my regency era gown and spencer project and I will write up a full post on that over the next few days. In the meantime, for quick teasers, follow my Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/kellyarlenegrant/
All of this is working itself towards more formal writing in my dissertation, as I develop construction techniques and supporting photos. I am also currently writing the chapter on how we use all this research to develop better quality living history programs. The shoe is a busy and happening place these days.

Regency on a Shoestring: Caps

Caps, they are something more of us should just be wearing, all of the time. Not only do they keep the sun off the top of our heads, they keep our hair clean and tidy too. I have even taken to wearing a triangle of cloth on my head on the regular day to day life, since wearing my hair up doesn't always mean my hats will fit my noggin'. I hate having my head sunburned.

Unless you are dressing in evening wear, where your hair will also be dressed to suit the fabulous ballgown you are wearing, your head should be covered.

Look at these two lovely ladies wearing caps, the Oyster Girl on the left is even wearing her cap underneath her hat. This keeps her hair from sticking to the interior of her hat and pulling, but also allows the hat something else to purchase on. If you have also done your hair nicely, the cap is nailed to your head, and then the hat can be nailed to both cap and hair nicely with some long pins.

I have found recently, that there is no possible way I can make caps for folks that are within a price range people are willing to pay. My latest cap literally took as long to make as my gown did. So many little hems and tiny seams. They should be something that every lady makes for herself though, since the sewing is simple, if repetitive.

Cutting: measure your head from ear to ear, over the top. Then from where you want the caul to sit, towards the back of your head...don't forget to add enough space for your hair if you use extra bits at all...I do, as I have baby fine hair. I actually stuff the back of my head with C-clip hair rollers to give it enough volumn. Cut a rectangle this size, and round off the top two longways corners. There, you have a caul.
Now, the front of the cap is usually a lappet style in this period, that's what I think the Oyster Girl is wearing above, since the frill comes under her chin. This is cut by making the front long side the length of the measure of around your face, chin to top of head, and back to chin. The parallel, back line of this section is usually from earlobe to earlobe, over the top of my head. Sometimes this has a section that curves around to the back of the nape.

Let's look at some caps...

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

Met Museum, New York*

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

 All these caps are seemingly fancy-pants caps. A lot of people think they are for upper class folks, but if you look at the shapes, and not the fancy lace, you can make a similar style of cap, but for a more lower-class persona. What is available to you in your local fabric store? Can you obtain small amounts of batiste or mull, fine shirting fabrics? Use these for your caps, and save the lace for the upper class personas. Most laces available from your local Fabricland and Fabricville stores are not appropriate for this period, it being heavy crochet lace, and not this fine netting style of lace.

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

 Look at the simplicity of this cap though, cut in one piece, just a large rectangle that has been cut into and  gathered into the back neck, edged in a very small lace. This is likely a simple batiste.

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

 And here we have another very simplistic cap in fine cotton mull, without any lace at all!

Sewing caps: You need to know how to make tiny hems, since almost every piece of the cap will be hemmed before you put the pieces together. I do a little whipped rolled hem, by folding the edge over as slightly as I can one time, then picking up a couple of threads where the cut edge meets the body, and then a couple of threads right on the fold, making little 7s with my thread. After about 8 or 10 stitches, I pull up the thread to roll the hem. For any felled seams, I use a simple running stitch to sew the first leg of the seam, and then after folding the fell over, a pick stitch. Using tiny sewing needles and silk thread, I am able to achieve tiny stitches. Get used to using small needles and a thimble, and your sewing will improve. I have stronger strength glasses just for hand sewing.

My last note is about reenacting clothing. Far too often I have seen women making their caps from heavier linen or worse, poly cotton blend broadcloth. I just have not found any extant pieces from this period in a heavy linen...and let's face it, poly cotton may be cheap, but it is not at all historically accurate. The amount of material required for a cap is so small, everyone in this hobby/profession can afford to purchase enough to make a cap. All you really need is less than a half metre, and really, you are likely to be able to cut a couple of caps from a half metre. If you want a stiffened cap (which is the excuse some have given for using poly/cotton), boiling in starch will give you the best results. And it's period!

My caps are one of those items of clothing that hardly ever get laundered...I want the heritage of a few days of wear, so really only launder them when they are pretty darned nasty. This takes a long time to occur though, since I starch my caps and the starch repels the dirt like nobody's business.

*working on accession numbers for these caps...Pinterest can be your friend for quick searches, but a lot of people pin without information. I am working to rectify the situation on my own Pinterest boards.
https://www.pinterest.ca/esteladufrayse/regency/
https://www.pinterest.ca/esteladufrayse/regency-footwear/
https://www.pinterest.ca/esteladufrayse/1820-30-ross-farm/

Front Line Staff are Valuable

I would hazard to say that the front line staff are among the most valuable staff a museum or historic site can have. Not only do they work the cash registers, which bring in the money for the site, but they can make or break an experience for the visitor.

These staff members give the tours, talking about the artifacts in our collections. They tell the visitor why the site and its collection is important to the community's heritage and culture. Often times, as part of 'other duties', they assist curators in mounting exhibits, they keep things clean, including the toilets, they provide security for each other, the site, and the valuable collection.

And yet, they are often the lowest paid people on staff, if they are paid at all...

We need to start appreciating these folks better than we are currently. Paying them better would be nice, but not every site has a fabulous budget, in fact, many of our sites run on no budgets at all. We can work around this by providing better resources to the front line staff members to do their jobs better, maybe to even live their lives better.

 - Are your staff members university students? Apart from many government programs that you can apply to, to help pay them a wage for the summer, could working for the site earn them university credit?

- Do your staff wear historic costume? Do they show an interest in building and owning their own kit? You could run workshops during the winter months to help them build accurate pieces of clothing. Staff who have their own clothes take pride in those clothes. They learn how they were worn and why. They also tend to stick around as occasional volunteers after working for the site.

- Do you have the resources to help front line staff develop accurate and informative tours? Can you offer them time to research, other staff to help guide them in good directions? A librarian on staff can do wonders for the overall quality of knowledge production for the site. Developing good relationships with community librarians also helps, if you don't have a library on site. Schedule research trips to other sites in the community to see how other sites work, share resources.

- How do you engage the community? Are you sitting back, waiting for them to come to the site, either as a visitor or as a potential employee? Can you develop better methods of engagement with the communities, yes plural, in your area? Who are you missing from your community outreach? What stories aren't being told because of those missing community members?

- Finally, how do you develop a cadre of volunteers?

Recently, a group of living historians approached a small historic site with a solid interpretation plan and an offer to animate the site for a weekend. A group of hard working, dedicated volunteers put together a scenario of a Tailor and Bookbinder's shops in an over/under building. They gathered together all the things you would find in those environments, the living history interpreters not only knew the information that pertained to their chosen persona, they also intimately researched the site and the local community. Over the weekend event, the number of visitors rose significantly than during regular days opening. The visitors also stayed longer and were more engaged with the interpretation programming.

View of Halifax, Nova Scotia, Dominic Serres 1765, Art Gallery of Nova Scotia

I think it behoves a site and it's site director to develop these relationships. Better quality interpretation programing can come out of good working relationships with the community the site is surrounded by. Don't let the only time community members visit your site be when they have company in from out of town, and it's the 'touristy' thing to do. Give them reasons to be at the site all season long.

Interpretation: Setting a table, setting a scene

I grew up in a house where the kitchen table served as both work surface and dining table. Living in a Q (private married quarters), meant we lived quite closely, the house was small with no room for a separate dining room. My grandfather thought is was important that we learn proper table manners though, and at meal times, the table would be cleaned off and set with a table cloth and all the required dishware and cutlery. His reasoning, so that we would not embarrass ourselves if having to share a dinner table in a more polite setting. We learned how to hold all our cutlery in the European fashion, which fork to use with which course, and how to consume alcohol properly.

These skills have come in handy in my adult life, as I feel comfortable in any setting now, with any dining companion. Skills that have helped further a military career, as one of the main aspects of our social life at the moment is attending Mess functions on a monthly basis. Seeing that P can function in a very political setting has possibly paved the way for finishing out his career in a more favourable light. At this point, it is far more than just being able to do his primary job. He has to be able to socialize with the higher ups perfectly to be accepted into that social circle.

This has been a long standing requirement for higher ranks in the military for hundreds of years. Up until fairly recently, to obtain such ranks, your family bought them for you. Establishing the soldier in a social order not available to many. Proving that you could afford to live the expected lifestyle of the rank. In living history, I have used our modern experiences of growing up and living a military career to reflect how I interact in my role as a servant to officers. It has become second nature to me to set a table properly, how to interact with the men I am serving, how to blend in to the background and make things happen for them to do their jobs easier.

Recently, I was asked by a friend how far these niceties of class would extend? They were organizing an event at a house/workshop for business and trades people. Would these people have used a tablecloth? what sort of dishware would they have used? And it got us thinking about how much we take for granted in our cross-over modern and historical lives. Conversations around how dirty a work table could get, especially if it were the only table in a shared work and living space, how quickly it could become 'clean' enough for eating. I thought of the table in the soldier's barracks at Ticonderoga, and how dirty it has become through years of use and abuse, cleaning muskets, doing dirty soldier's chores, and how quickly a fresh tablecloth could clean it up enough for a meal.

Jack Sprat, c.1800. collections.museums-sheffield.org.uk

what a great cartoon of a well known subject matter. Working class, for sure, but with a tablecloth. There are enough historical images kicking about that backs up my thoughts that a work table could quickly become the dining table with a clean tablecloth. Now, I'm not terribly worried about the condition of the tablecloth for most instances. I'm not one to bring my best linen out into the field, but hand-me-down linens, maybe with a few small holes or stains, but clean, now there's the ticket for my working class or frontier officer's table. After all, we are not entertaining the King of England!

I have come to that conclusion by studying archaeological records of fortifications with British garrisons. Lynne Sussman, in her 1978 paper British Military Tableware, 1760-1830 states, "It has been possible, using the large samples from Fort Beausejour, New Brunswick, as well as evidence from other military sites, to select tea and dinner services that were used for regimental messes during the period 1760-1830" (p.93). Sussman notes that the common soldier may have been issued a tin plate and cup, or more likely would have been given an allowance to purchase said implements, and that they may have been simply wood (p93-94). The officer's mess, on the other hand, seems to have been fully equipped with cooking and dinner service, paid for by the officer's of the regiment, and style was often dictated by the highest ranking member, the Colonel. Cooking and dining services were purchased through factory wholesale warehouses and may have actually been 'seconds' of popular styles in the non military world. Finds include pieces of redware and stoneware, then as fashion shifted, creamware, pearlware, and transferware such as blue willow are featured in the historical archaeological record. Sussman also backs up my thoughts on class structure stating, "An officer in the British army was expected to maintain himself, in a style appropriate to an officer and a gentleman, at his own expense", she also notes that as far back as the eighteenth-century mess dues were collected, "graduated according to rank, for maintenance of the regimental mess. Most mess furnishings, including the tableware, were purchased collectively by the officers" (p.95). Similar to our modern mess structure, furnishing, and tableware. Sussman also notes an early form of 'regimental' tableware, at Fort Lennox, Quebec, creamware that bears the transfer printed insignia of the 13th Regiment of Foot (p.95), similar to our dinner service at our local mess, which sports the markings of the Canadian Armed Forces.

Lois Feister undertook a similar investigation at Crown Point New york and published her paper, Material Culture of the British Soldier at "His Majesty's Fort of Crown Point" on Lake Champlain New York, 1759-1783, in 1984. Feister's conclusions echo those of Sussman, bringing up potential difference in enlisted men and officer's dining accoutrements, stating "historians were confident of 'wooden trenchers; pewter spoons, knives, and forks; and horn cups as having been the primary personal items of culinary ware" (p124). Feister notes that, "one of the primary characteristics, however, of North American 18th-century domestic sites, even of apparently low economic status, is the presence of British manufactured earthenware, quoting Stanley South, 'from port town ruins to town house mansions to frontier forts and Indian villages have similar groups of ceramic types present at similar periods of time" (p124).

This tells me that no matter what, fashionibility was key no matter the economic class one found oneself in. You did your very best to present respectability given what you had at hand.

Feister goes on to explain how the archaeological evidence at Crown Point "contributed significant data toward a better understanding of the material culture of the British soldier in Colonial America" (p125). She explains how the barracks blocks were constructed and used, "revealing a standard of living at least comparable to that found on 18th-century domestic sites, despite the isolated location of this British fort", allowing even the common soldier to obtain "such domestic goods as were necessary for a way of life that went beyond the tin plate and mug" (p127).

Evidence reveals how the barracks rooms were used as well, noting "Mrs. Jane Ross's room in the soldier's barracks where she cooked food for the (mess of nine) soldiers. Her room being referred to as the 'mess room', indicating that it was customary to cook in the barracks rather than in a separate building" (p128). this backs up several theories that possibly, in regular eighteenth-century life, a single room with a fireplace could be inhabited by a whole family, undertaking all the daily taskings required to live a quality life.
The officer's had an even further separation of spaces, having a space set aside and referred to as the 'dining room', apart from sleeping quarters (p129). Archaeological findings of tableware included redware, creamware and some stoneware fragments appearing outside every barracks unit, suggesting widespread use. Porcelain teaware were found clustered behind the end of the third and into the fourth unit of the barracks block, suggesting occupation of higher status individuals, the officers (p129).

Feister goes on to explain that all activities of daily life occurred in every unit of the barracks, but that with the focus on certain types of finds, each unit may have been separated into dining and sleeping room activities (p131). I feel that just this brief exploration of daily life through food helps to substantiate my feelings of setting the table for dinner service. Closer examination of the historical record can help to determine items issued, purchased, and used by people in a given living situation, as well as the foods consumed, and how they were cooked and served. All of this can add to the overall interpretation of a given site, as it can break down barriers between the visiting public and the interpreter. All of us eat, many of us cook, and each of us knows what smells good! Conversations can be started based on very few sensory cues.

Bibliography

Feister, Lois M. "Material Culture of the British Soldier at 'His Majesty's Fort of Crown Point' on Lake Champlain, New Yory, 1759-1783." Journal of Field Archaeology, vol 11, No. 2 Summer (1984): 123-132.

Sussman, Lynne. "British Military Tableware, 1760-1830." Historical Archaeology, vol.12 (1978): 93-104.