A Tale of Two Victorian Crazy Quilts - and a Fabric Mystery

A Tale of Two Victorian Crazy Quilts - in Four Parts

Parr 1
Setting the Scene

    

This pair of crazy quilts still lives in the family and the town where they were made, with a descendant of the two quiltmakers.  

They were made circa 1890 in Brooklyn, Connecticut, by Emily Harris, and her daughter, Eva May Harris.  They are great-grandmother and grandmother to the current owner.  One of the quilts has a small piece of red fabric embroidered with the name of Samuel Cady Harris, Emily's husband.

Both quilts include bright yellow Special Constable ribbons and commemorative ribbons celebrating the dedication in 1888 of the statue of Gen. Israel Putnam.  The town celebrates their native son as the third in command of the Revolutionary Army. 

Some of the fabrics were in pretty bad shape or missing altogether.  I patched those, mostly with vintage silks, though none are as old as the original silks.  Some others were still mostly in place but quite shattered.  I stabilized those with couching stitches so as to keep as much as possible of the original fabric visible.  Each quilt had one patch that was pretty badly damaged but too interesting to patch over.  I covered those with crepeline, a very sheer silk, to protect them.  (Here's one, and the other is in the next photo.)

Here's a section that shows all the techniques that I used. 

The plum arches over the fans were pretty well all torn.  Here's one I patched.

A Tale of Two Victorian Crazy Quilts - in Four Parts

Part 2
What's Going on Here?

But for me, beautiful and well-documented as these are, the project really got fun when I discovered what to me was an anomalous fabric and some curious earlier repairs.  

Here's the area in question.  There are three pieces where the silks have disintegrated to reveal a large piece of printed fabric, with colors that are light and loud compared to the rest of the quilt.  

Here are the observations and questions that had me really scratching my head:

1. The colors seemed out of step with what I'm used to seeing in quilts of the late 19th century, particularly the bright, deep orange and the sky blue.

2. My first sense of the fabric was that it felt more like what I remember of ladies' slinky, synthetic nightgowns of the 1960s.  And the print style looked more like that era, too, not the 1890s.

3. Then I noticed the patches in that area have concentric embroidered edges, one along the shattered silks on top and one along the mystery fabric below them.  And then I saw that the edge of the mystery fabric extended around several intact silk pieces as well.  The entire area is about 10" x 13.5".

    

4. The mystery fabric was in much better shape than several of the silks that had been sewn on top of it.

5. I peeked inside the torn spots on the mystery fabric, and saw the same tan gingham that is used as a foundation fabric in other parts of the quilt.  None of the torn spots were large enough to get a glimpse of a torn fabric that might have been lying between the mystery fabric and the foundation.  

But what a mystery!  Could someone have patched shattered 19th century silks with a large piece of synthetic 20th century fabric, and then, maybe someone else, re-patched that spot with some antique silks, some of which disintegrated pretty quickly?? 

6. That's a weird enough story, but consider this:  the back and binding of the quilt are intact.  So if the mystery fabric was mending a large tear or other disaster, it might be that all happened while it was a top, before layering and finishing. 

Here's the completed patching over the mystery fabric area.

There's another place where a similar routine happened - a patch disintegrating faster than the original fabric beneath it.

And another piece where a painted fabric was apparently cut out and patched with a plain silk, which then disintegrated totally.  So now all we end up seeing is the gingham foundation fabric.

    

A Tale of Two Victorian Crazy Quilts - in Four Parts

Part 3
Science

So, we decided to try to identify the mystery fabric with a burn test.   

Here's the set-up.  There are some threads of the mystery fabric (removed with the owner's approval), seen just behind the candle.  For comparison, I used swatches and threads of known fabrics of silk, rayon, and synthetics.  Tools are a small candle, tweezers for holding samples, a fire-proof work surface.

I recorded the testing with my friend Pam Goffinet watching and helping me with the commentary.  (I thought I could fix the exposure problems caused by the candle flame later, but found out I couldn't.  I decided to pull some stills and fix them as best I could.  Next time I do this, I'll be better prepared and hopefully get a better video... ) 

The technique is to move a swatch slowly into the flame, and take note of things like:  how easily does it start to burn, does is burn quickly or slowly, does it have an odor and what is it like, what kind of residue is left when it goes out, and so on.  There are lots of sites online that give guidelines of what to look for on these kinds of topics.

 

 

I also tried a new technique I had recently read about - fiber testing with bleach.   It seems that bleach destroys protein (animal) fiber and not cellulose (plant) fiber.  

Here is a silk swatch on the left and a rayon swatch on the right.

Pretty quickly, things started to happen.  It looks like color is coming out of both.  What you're actually seeing on the silk (left) is a mass of teeny bubbles.  Pam and I decided that was evidence of a chemical reaction between the silk and the bleach.  What you see on the right is color loss, first turning blue and then losing that color as well, not a single bubble.  

And finally, there's very disintegrated (and paler) silk on the left and a fully intact and basically strong rayon on the right.

And then came the actual testing of the fibers from the mystery fabric.

The  results:  Both burn and bleach tests are quite clear that the mystery fabric is silk, not an early synthetic or rayon. 

The fibers did not burn easily and once removed from the flame, went right out.  What you see hovering over the fibers here is smoke, not flame.  It had a dark ash, soft not hard.

The silk fibers in bleach (next to tweezers in top photo, next to my finger in next photo) did make tiny bubbles and then disappeared. 

I posted my questions on a couple of Facebook groups, and got an answer from my friend Martha Spark, who said she's seen late 19th century silks that have these colors.  And then I finally remembered that silk and wool, i.e. animal fibers, take dye much more easily than plant fibers like cotton - and therefore a silk or a wool can often sport colors that were more difficult to dye on cottons. 

Here's one little piece of the mystery fabric that was used as a tiny, original piece.  I'm glad for that, so that there is some visible still.  And here, next to some orange embroidery threads, the color doesn't look out of place....

So all that means the patching could all have been done around the time the quilt was made.  

But I still can't quite come up with a story I like - why was there such an light colored print put on such  a large area of a generally dark set of fabrics, and then covered with fabrics similar to the rest of the quilt, some of which disintegrated faster than what they were patching?  Maybe a temporary patch until better silks were found? 

A Tale of Two Victorian Crazy Quilts - in Four Parts

Part 4
Just Enjoy the Beauty

But anyway, mysterious mending aside, these quilts have loads of gorgeous and interesting fabrics and some fun embroidery.

I love these stripes.  I can totally imagine a gorgeous gown made of either one.  Statement outfits, for sure.  I really like the more subdued brocade on the left as well.  The gingham check is silk.  Interestingly, the black has survived as well as the grey.  The little squares between the check are nearly all gone - what you're seeing is a muslin underneath.  Those little squares were originally white, as you can see at the top pointed corner where a few are still intact.

A rich, cut velvet stripe.

Here's a grouping of several tiny patches made from woven plaids and stripes.  Exquisite!

A great embroidered rooster and also a shamrock stripe. 

 

The center fan block on this quilt has miniature fans in the corners.  The fans on these quilts are all notable for their very skinny spokes.

Hand painted flowers and a soft floral print, looking like watercolor painting.

 One quilt is backed in this paisley, with a gentle woven ribbing. The other is backed with wavy lines.

 .......And that's the end of the tale!  The quilts are back home.  The fabric mystery is solved, but the story line remains a mystery!

 

Taking Care of a Crazy Quilt....by not Restoring It

 

The owner sent me these photos of her gorgeous crazy quilt for an initial assessment.  She and I decided not to do any repairs at this time.  However, it's such a beautiful quilt that I wanted to share it, and I am grateful that she has allowed me to share her photos.

It was made for my great great grandfather John Davis Cassada when he was born by his mother Lucy and his aunts.  Many were single or widowed from the Civil War.  All the initials are attributable to family members.  They were very thrilled to have a male in the family and used many 'fancy' scraps of silk and velvet. 

 John Davis Cassada was born in 1874.  His mother's name was spelled Lucie and Lucy alternatively.   John was born in South Boston, Virginia.  His family moved and he married and settled in Halifax then Raleigh area North Carolina. 

The reason I didn't have her send the quilt to me for repair is that the damage, shattering silk, is minimal for a silk quilt of this era.  Shattering is the damage caused by metal salts that were sometimes added during the manufacturing of silks during the Victorian era.

1897 Wool Crazy Quilt

This family heirloom quilt has some unique embroideries and provides a glimpse into the quiltmaker's personality.  (And no, I did not leave my scissors on the quilt by mistake.  They are embroidered with a variegated wool thread, giving them a wonderful metallic appearance!)

Here's what the quilt owner told me about the quilt:
I believe it was made by my great-grandmother, Johanna Gerbracht (born: 1865).  She was married to Henry Gerbracht (born: 1863).  They lived in Chatsworth, IL.  The best record I have online says that she married Henry in 1888.  That would make the quilt (dated: 1897) around their 10 year anniversary.  Online records show that she had three children, one of whom was born in 1898/1897.  You would know better than I, but that quilt doesn't scream baby quilt to me.  So I'm assuming that she made it for her and her husband. 

There are plenty of photos below, and you can see some other views of the quilt and listen to more descriptive information in a short video.

Three Quilts, Three Generations - The Repairs

The family story of these three quilts is at Three Quilts, Three Generations - The Story.  Here, I will descirbe the repairs that I made to them.

The two crazy quilts were made primarily of wool and flannel fabrics.  One of the crazy quilts has an embroidered date and name, as well as more and more varied embroidered details.  The crazy quilts have some fabrics in common, so it's likely that they were both made around the same time.  The log cabin is cotton and significantly older. 

The repair techniques chosen for each quilt were chosen according to the kinds of damage, the age, available fabrics, and the owner's preferences.  We had quite a few long discussions!

Three Quilts, Three Generations - The Story

I recently had the pleasure of repairing three heirloom quilts made by three generations of quilters. Two are heavy, wool and flannel crazy quilts, and the third is a cotton log cabin.  (You can read about the repairs at Three Quilts, Three Generations - The Repairs.)

Here's how the owner describes the quilts:



Preserving Our Quilt Legacy - Virtual Workshop - Starting soon!

Hey, hey - I'm starting to get the hang of this video promotion situation! My second video is up and running. It's a little "tour" of a great crazy quilt that I've been repairing. 

And this video is by way, of course, of reminding you that the start date for my quilt care and repair workshop is coming closer and closer. You can register for the whole workshop, or for selected alá carte items. Full details and registration info can be found on my website.

 

Bringing a damaged quilt back to life is such a satisfying endeavor. It honors the quiltmaker and the whole of quilting history. You can check out this blog for stories and photos of the repairs of quilts like these:

beaded crazy quilt, made by the owner's grandmother

signed by the grandmother of the current owner

Improved Nine-patch, before restoration

 

Improved Nine-patch, after restoration

1894 wedding quilt, signed by friends and family

A Sparkling Crazy Quilt - Part 2

I've just received a wonderful story in my email.  It comes from a woman whose family quilt I've just repaired.  If anyone ever asks why history is important and fun and how quilts can be a part of history, here is the best answer!

Good morning.  Last evening my grand daughters, Desmin 7 and Cecilia 3 were over for dinner and we were sitting in the dining room. Desmin was facing the quilt and Cecilia with her back to the quilt. The girls are usually very observant and notice anything different in our house but had said nothing about the quilt. Suddenly Cecilia said I love this and went over to touch the bottom of the quilt. Desmin who is quite the artist at her young age and since very small done lots of art projects with her grandpa and daddy and on her own, still said nothing. I said Desmin what do you think. She said, I just keep looking at the quilt and how beautiful it it is. Then she gets up and go to the quilt and very gently feels some of the patches and is especially interested in the beaded ones (sparkle ones). Then they wanted to know how old great great grandma would be. Desmin wanted to know how old she was when she made it, how long it took her and how she did it. The quilt lives on.

I recently posted about the subject of this story, a sparkling crazy quilt.  On that post, you will find lots more photos of the creative and fun embellishments and fabrics on this quilt, and why there is a ribbon on the quilt bearing the name "Nordd. Lloyd / D. Havel".

A Sparkling Crazy Quilt

 

This is a stand-out crazy quilt, isn't it?  

I generally think of Victorian crazies as having so many more blacks and maroons, browns and navies, with brighter fabrics and embroidery threads interspersed only now and then. 

So I looked back at photos of other crazies that have crossed my path, and well, was surprised to see how many are very colorful after all.  So what is it about this one that makes it feel so very different? 

This quilt is super joyful!  It is packed of a wide variety of embellishments, all heightened by beading and other creative and fancy bits - it is simply dancing.  The brightness has been heightened a bit by patching done in the 1970s that add in that era's colors, too.  But clearly the quilt was a riot of color right from the start!