Half Done is Well Begun

Grey stockings: one down, one to go.

I'm using fingering weight wool this time, instead of lace, and it seems to work up quite well (not to mention MUCH faster). The result isn't nearly as cloud-like, but I think it's closer to the gauge intended by the original pattern. Also, I'm working it over three needles this time instead of four, as I read that stockings are knit with four needles (three for the stitches, one for knitting) and doilies with five. I guess it's to help manage the decreases and heel shaping.

Next up, the second grey stocking. And then there is the red yarn...and then the white silk blend.

P.S. I'm going to give in and buy some machine knitted stockings online. I found a few sites that sell them at various prices/qualities. And someday, maybe, I'll find someone with a working 19th-century stocking frame -- and bribe them.

Mostly Stockings

Thanks to a very mid-19th century sounding case of the sniffles, I had a bit of extra time to knit this weekend, and so have finished my husband's non-19th century sweater vest more quickly than expected.

Additional news from the knitting front includes the arrival by post of my latest yarn supply from knitpicks.com (I know it's very un-1850s to admit ordering yarn from a website, but what else can one do these days?). The colored balls are Peruvian wool, the undyed skein is a wool and silk blend. All are fingering weight and intended for railway stockings.

I must admit I begin to have doubts about how many reasonably well-to-do urban women knitted their own stockings in the 1850s. According to Godey's Lady's Book in March, 1847:

The knitting of the family stockings has, to be sure, been in a great measure superseded by the cheapness of the manufactured article. Still, the warmest and most lasting stockings are those knit by hand. We know several elderly ladies who now do the work of charity with their knitting needles, furnishing many pairs of strong, substantial stockings for the poor.

Clearly there was considerable availability of very fine manufactured product at a price that made it unattractive for many women to make or wear 'homespun' stockings. Most fashionable seem to be silk stockings, decorated with embroidered 'clocks' or even beads, according to one article. I have seen a pair of stockings from the 1870s matching this general description. They are of very finely knitted silk -- clearly done by machine -- their ornament being in the form of a monogram. They are figured (shaped to the leg by decreases and increases) and reach over the knee. I imagine that many stockings from the middle of the 19th century followed this pattern.

It seems that knitted stockings -- credited to Spain -- have been in demand ever since the mid 1500s when they began to replace cloth hose. It did not take long for someone to invent a machine to replace the extensive human labor involved. The frame was not immediately embraced, for fear of putting hand knitters out of work, but growing demand ensured its eventual adoption. Again, from Godey's Lady's Book, June, 1853:

HISTORY OF STOCKINGS.

WE are told that Henry II. of France was the first who wore silk stockings, at his sister's wedding to the Duke of Savoy, in 1509. Howell, in his "History of the World," says that, in 1550, Queen Elizabeth was presented with a pair of black silk knit stockings by her silkwoman, Mrs. Montague, and she never wore cloth ones any more. He also adds that Henry VIII. wore ordinarily cloth hose, except there came from Spain, by great chance, a pair of silk-stockings. His son, King Edward VI., was presented with a pair of long Spanish silk stockings by Sir Thomas Gresham. Hence it would seem that the invention of knit stockings originally came from Spain. Anderson tells us— others relate— that one William Rider, an apprentice on London Bridge, seeing at the house of an Italian merchant a pair of knit stockings, from Mantua, took the hint, and made a pair exactly like them, which he presented to the Earl of Pembroke, and that they were the first of that kind worn in England. There have been various opinions with respect to the original invention of the stocking-frame; but it is now generally acknowledged that it was invented in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, in the year 1589, by William Lee, M.A., of St. John's College in Cambridge, a native of Woodborough, near Nottingham. In the "London Magazine," vol. iv. p. 337, we are told that this gentleman was expelled the University for marrying contrary to the statutes of the College. Being thus rejected, and ignorant of any other means of subsistence, he was reduced to the necessity of living upon what his wife could earn by knitting of stockings, which gave a spur to his invention; and by curiously observing the working of the needles in knitting, he formed in his mind the model of the frame, which proved of such advantage to that branch of our manufactures. Mr. Lee went to France, and for want of patronage there and in England, died of a broken heart, at Paris. The Framework Knitters' Company was incorporated by Charles II., 1663. In their hall is the portrait of Lee, pointing to one of the iron frames, and discoursing with a woman, who is knitting with needles and her fingers.

One of the ways that women contributed to the 18th-century American revolution was by foregoing European manufactured clothing and creating 'homespun' wardrobes for their families. This included a re adoption of the hand knit stocking. Not to imply that that cozy woolen article ever went completely out of favor in deference to its machine made counterpart. Merely that by the 1850s (and likely well before) it was not a la mode to encase one's calf in coarse wool if silk was available, nor was it considered a good use of an active woman's time to knit such intricate articles. Children and the elderly knitted stockings where bought ones were too dear or could not be had easily or in sufficient number. Of course there were many proponents of handmade stockings as better fitting, warmer, longer lasting, etc. Still, increasing improvements in their manufacture continued to make inroads on hand knitting.

This of course applies mainly to women's legwear. Many patterns of socks and stockings for men, and children especially, are given in the pages of Godey's (and one may presume in the pages of comparable publications) throughout the 1850s. Directions for knitting women's stockings are included in The Workwoman's Guide of 1840 (originally published earlier), and also in a number of issues of Weldon's Practical Needlework (published by a thread company in the 1870s to reintroduce lower and middle class British women to dying needlearts).

The only women's stocking pattern that I have yet found in Godey's around mid century is the aforementioned railway stocking pattern from 1861. Perhaps it was presumed that women knew as much as they needed to about knitting stockings and the railway stocking happened to be print worthy by virtue of novelty. But is it not a pretty coincidence that this simple (yet lacy), time saving pattern for hand knitting something that most women were accustomed to buy ready made was published just in time for the country to again go to war (when access to manufactured goods would be disrupted)?

Regardless of strict accuracy, I plan to continue my knitting of railway stockings in red and grey wool, and white silk. While it may have been more likely for a woman of my means to buy her stockings already made, I challenge you to find a stocking counter still in New York City, let alone one that carries figured knee-high clocked silk stockings at a reasonable price. Now if I could only convince my husband to let me build a stocking frame in our apartment...

**On another note that might interest my husband, legend claimed that the inventor of the stocking frame did so because he was tired of trying to attract his wife's attention while she sat knitting. In 1847, British painter Alfred Elmore imagined the scene in an oft-engraved painting entitled "Rev Lee Inventing the Stocking Frame" (the image below is of the engraving, also by Elmore).

Well Stockinged

I'm pleased to report, thanks to weeks of frantic knitting, that my first pair of stockings is completed; never again shall my legs be chilled, or less than historically accurate, when I wear 19th-century clothing. It's rather a surprise to me still that I undertook such a project, having always planned to purchase modern "thigh-high" stockings rather than waste the time on such a gargantuan effort.

I was finally tempted by a pattern published in Godey's, 1861. Its appeal lay largely in its relative ease, being merely an abbreviated tube partially unraveled to give it length, shaping, and a pretty openwork pattern.

THE RAILWAY STOCKING . TO BE WORKED
IN COTTON THREAD OR WORSTED.

CAST on the needles as many stitches as would be required for an ordinary stocking for a child. Knit it once around, then rib it until an inch long, then bind off. Take up the stitches and commence knitting straight around plain stocking stitch until you have a finger and a half done; then knit once around, dropping every other stitch off the needle; then stretch out the stocking ; and the stitches will run down until it reaches the ribbed piece, and no farther, forming a beautiful open worked stocking . Having kept the remaining stitches on the needles, finish off the toe by knitting straight around, narrowing every time on each needle. It will shape itself on the leg, and will be sufficiently long, as it only requires two fingers in length for a lady's
stocking .

A combination of foolish ambition and a desire to start right away without waiting for a new shipment of yarn convinced me that it would be a good idea to knit them in a heathered brown lace weight merino wool that happened to be lying about my apartment. I used a set of 5 double pointed pins in modern size 00.

I was a bit worried over length at first. Partly because I know that my legs are rather long, especially by mid-19th century standards, and partly because I was not sure if the stockings should reach over my knee. In the illustration accompanying the pattern, they do not cover the knee. I have seen references to the great garter debate pitting over-the-kneers 'gainst under-the-kneers, but I could not remember where. So I decided to see what The Workwoman's Guide (1840) had to say:

STOCKINGS.

Knit stockings are considered so much better than woven ones for wear, that it is advisable for all servants, cottagers and labourers invariably to adopt them, as the former will last out three or more of the woven, which are more suitable for the higher classes.

The children of the poor should always be taught to knit, and each member of a family ought to have a stocking in hand to take up at idle moments, by which means many pairs might be completed in the year. It is difficult to make very correct scales for different sized knit stockings, as so much depends on the quality of the worsted and of the pins, as also on the knitter, as some persons work much slacker than others, so that two stockings knit with the same pins and worsted, may be of very different sizes when knit by different persons.

The following proportion for a general rule is good, and may prove useful, though to tolerably experienced knitters, it is recommended to procure a pair of stockings that fit very well, and to knit others like them, which can easily be done by means of constantly measuring and comparing them with the pattern.

GENERAL PROPORTIONS FOR STOCKINGS. PLATE 21. FIG. 21.

Ascertain the proper breadth of the stocking. From the top to the bend of the knee is one square, or the length of the breadth. From the bend of the knee to the beginning of the calf is one square or breadth. From the beginning to the end of the calf, is one square or breadth. (See note.*) •

I suppose most of that is quaint and colorful rather than useful to the question at hand, but the final paragraph helped me quite a lot. As you can see, the top breadth is clearly meant to be taken above the bend in the knee, assuring me that stockings, at least in 1840, often covered that portion of the leg. They were also quite figured, with many complicated formulas for decreasing, making me very thankful for my tube stocking pattern.

(Perhaps the change in length has something to do with the universal introduction of drawers around mid century...but that is merely speculation!)

After testing a ribbed band that turned out to be far too large, I settled on 116 stitches divided between four needles. I was particularly curious to see how much the knitted fabric expanded after every other stitch was unravelled. My guess was a 3 to 1 increase, and I was very nearly right. Having decided to make them over-the-knee, I knitted 11 inches (2 inches extra) before dropping the stitches and narrowing for the toe.

Here are more pictures of my stockings in various stages of progress:

11 inches long and ready to drop half the stitches.

Stretching out to unravel the dropped stitches.

Finished and worn with garters.

Order of the Garters

It's hard to relive the 1850s in slacks, let alone skinny jeans. Researching, and occasionally recreating, historic fashion has long been one of my favorite hobbies. As you might guess, lately I've been focusing on the middle of the 19th century.

Having spent the last year or so reading issues of Godey's Lady's Book and poring over The Workwoman's Guide, I'm finally ready to start sewing, knitting, crocheting, etc. It seemed a good idea to begin from the inside out, since 19th-century undergarments have a great deal to do with the way the rest of the clothing fits.

My first official project (remind me to show you some of my earlier slapdash 19th-century efforts when I'm in a self-effacing mood) was stocking and garters. Knitting is more space economical than sewing and therefore more suited to a studio apartment.

I tackled the garters first, having already knitted a pair for a friend from the pattern accompanying this illustration, as seen in Godey's June 1862 issue:


Since this particular pair was billed as "NEW STYLE OF GARTER" and I am interested in the previous decade, I figured it might be as well to find an earlier reference. Here's what the Workwoman's Guide, c. 1840, had to say on the subject:

GARTERS.
PLATE 21. FIG. 23.

These are chiefly worn by females, and are merely narrow strips of knitting, of three quarters of a yard long, and a nail, more or less, wide. They are made of worsted, cotton, or soft wool ; the latter is most elastic and pleasant. For garters, set on from twelve to twenty, or even thirty stitches, according to the fineness of the material. Knit backwards and forwards till of the proper length, when fasten off. Some persons prefer a loop at the end ; for which purpose, when near the end, divide the stitches equally upon two pins, and knit each pin about ten ribs, after which connect them together by binding them in fastening off. Garters arc sometimes knit by putting the material, which is fine, twice round the pin at every stitch, letting the pin be very thick. Garters are sometimes ribbed, at others knit, in a succession of squares of different patterns.

I used some leftover fingering wool as it seemed to achieve the correct gauge. By combining generalities from the earlier source with some of the later pattern, this is what I came up with:

The only problem with foot/leg wear -- you have to make two! More soon.