Made by a Child: A Sampler of Siblings’ Names Stitched in 1778.

An exhibition catalogue of eighteenth-century embroidery would probably pass by this small sampler just purchased for Cotsen which records information about a family in the English Midlands 1767-1787. It is simply a list of names enclosed in a narrow  border unaccompanied by alphabets, mottoes, architecture, birds, and swirling vines in more bravura examples designed by school mistresses for their pupils.

Joan Oughton, the dexterous young needlewoman, signed at the bottom so posterity would know that she lived in Birmingham and finished the piece in 1788.   She used just three stitches–outline, cross, and tent—and a quiet,  harmonious palette of blue-gray, black, gold, and silver silk thread on linen.  The tiny stitches are so regular that the embroidered words and numbers are beautifully legible.  It  lacks the name of a teacher or school, which may be an indication that she worked it as part of lessons  at home to learn plain and ornamental needlework, an key component of girls’ education.

Perhaps Joan sewed it as  a  memorial to her sisters and brothers, rather like to writing out family members’ names, dates of birth and of passing on a blank leaf in the family Bible. Her mother was almost continually pregnant between 1766 and 1786, bearing eleven children, seven of whom survived infancy.   Joan’s brothers were Thomas Smith, who lived only a week in June 1767, James Harwick born in 1779, Samuel in 1781, and Timothy in 1783.  The oldest girl Elizabeth was born in 1768, Maria, in 1770 and passing away at age eight,  Harriet in 1772, Joan in 1773, Catherine in 1774, Ann who was alive the summer of 1778.  The last girl was a second Maria born in 1786 and living eleven months later. The detail below shows the lines for the first Maria, Harriet, Joan, Catherine, and Ann.Using Joan’s record of her brothers and sisters, I tracked down some very promising candidates for their parents in Ancestry Library even though there was no family tree that brought all these Oughtons together.  Christopher Oughton was the brood’s father.  Son of Timothy Oughton, he was born April 14th, 1747, and baptized in Lichfield, Staffordshire.  His wife was a Maria, but her maiden name and the date of their union didn’t seem to be documented.

How Christopher support his growing family?  He can be found in Birmingham city directories of tradesmen between 1751 and 1775 as a peruke maker (a more elegant term for someone who makes wigs) at fashionable 22 Church Street.  Someone in this line of work might also cut and dress hair, sell perfume and pomades, etc.  Christopher added a second, more unusual line of work around 1785—that of pawnbroking.

Joan’s somber tribute to her brothers has proven to be a little piece of family history worked on linen and a very welcome–and unusual–addition to Cotsen’s small group of samplers among the textiles.

First Gather Your Eggs, then Boil and Decorate Them: Some Easter Bunny Handkerchiefs

The featured illustrations of hard-working Easter bunnies were not taken from a picture book, but from a group of children’s handkerchiefs in the collection.  These four, along with forty-eight more examples, were bound into a book (Cotsen 18735). There is an inscription in German dated December 1902 and the style of the pictures suggests they are from the 1890s.

First gather the eggs from the hen.

Now they can be hard boiled.

Next, the decoration.

Get to the stall early for the best selection!

All the subjects in this volume of handkerchiefs suggest that they were manufactured for the children’s market.  There are pictures of circus acts, including one of lions jumping through hoops of fire.  Four each tell the story of Puss in Boots and Little Red Riding Hood.  Others show children playing at the beach, rolling hoops, sailing a boat, and parading down a country lane. Three illustrate scenes from the story of Noah’s ark.

If you are wondering why there are handkerchiefs in the Cotsen Children’s Library, here’s the answer.  Mr. Cotsen was also a passionate collector of textiles and accumulated quite a selection of children’s handkerchiefs–enough to fill three boxes– which he gave to the Cotsen Children’s Library, instead of a museum.  And why not?  After all, there are at least fifteen boxes of cloth books in the stacks as well…

Hoppy Easter!