Every now and then when I am kipping (a/k/a knitting in public), someone will tell me how they wish they could do that, but it looks so hard to do. Perhaps it's because I am usually knitting in the round, with those four double pointed needles, and it looks like I am doing what one person described as "wrestling an octopus".

Then I tell them it's not really that hard; small children used to be taught how to do this when they were in kindergarten. They look at me a little strange when I say that, but it's true. I have a book called drills for children, which is all full of how to teach kindergarten boys and girls the basis of knitting and hand sewing.

It was not uncommon in the 19th century, and perhaps earlier, for children to be given a daily task of knitting. Some people record how they had to knit an inch on their socks before going out to play. In the Shetlands, small children are given toy knitting needles, and have been given them for over a hundred years, so they could play at they were knitting while their moms and other family members were doing production knitting.

And Victorian art is full of pictures of children knitting. Near the end of the Victorian period, a favorite theme seems to have been to dress a girl up like granny and take her photo. But there are plenty of photos, paintings and illustrations of children (usually girls) knitting away.

This is a craft not just for adults.

posted by Mrs. Stone 4:29 AM

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Doilies are fun things. Once upon a time, they were called tidies, because their job was to keep things neat and tidy by protecting furniture, dishes, etc. You couldn't put a vase on a table without putting a tidy underneath it. There were tidies to put in the bread dish, under the fish dish, and as things got more elaborate, doilies for the sofa and chairs, runners of various sorts. Often made of cloth, as the 19th century wore on, you see them made of crochet and knitting a lot. They were also netted and darned. Some were lacy and some were textured. It is very common for mid-Victorian doilies to have the name of their use (like fish or bread) worked in as part of the design. If you can think of a special use doily, someone during the Victorian era was making it.

But they were not merely decorative. The sofa pieces were designed to help keep hair oil off the furniture. Where we frequently would use paper towels or napkins to serve an item that would get damp or be a bit greasy, they would use doilies. They functioned as coasters in the pre-polyurethane days to protect valuable and beautiful wooden furniture. The longer pieces like piano scarves helped minimize dusting as well, so they have utilitarian functions.

But some of my favorite patterns for doilies aren't Victorian; many of the patterns I remember most fondly were crocheted in the 1950s by my grandmother, who loved to make rose decorated and pineapple doilies, large things that needed to be starched and pinned to dry to look crisp, but oh they were gorgeous, like rose decorated angel wings.

posted by Mrs. Stone 5:00 AM

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If you have ever done production knitting - knitting for sale - then you probably know something of what many people in the 1500-1800s went through trying to make a living. The first thing that happens is people begin to knit constantly...while walking (there is a great classic picture of a Shetland woman carrying a load of peats on her back, while knitting as she goes), in church (this is documented in the Dales among other places, as a unholy habit), herding (shepherds are often described with knitting in hand) and while waiting for their fishermen to come home from sea. Rules had to be passed to keep quality up. Laws sometimes were passed to keep people from knitting during certain times of the year when crops had to be brought in. Some towns passed laws from knitting in the streets. But all in all, it was work that sometimes made the difference between having a little money and enough to eat and not. especially in the earlier days.

One of the things that evolved out of the production hand knitting business was payment in kind. A woolens broker would buy up stockings, shawls or what have you, and offer an inadequate payment in money, or a better payment in goods, like foodstuffs. This was an exploitive arrangement that benefited the broker more than the knitter, but was very hard to stamp out. Frequently, the same broker would supply the wool, as well as paying for the end product. Those knitters usually made less than the ones that could supply their own yarn, but at the same time, they didn't have to spend time in processing the wool or spinning it.

Much of the production of this type of knitting was for coarse stockings (think heavier weight, not dress sock weight - work socks, hiking socks)...before dying and fulling, a man's full hose sock was expected to be 34 inches long, 12 inches long from heel to toe, and between 4 and 5 inches wide at the foot (measured flat). That was a lot of knitting to do!

posted by Mrs. Stone 7:19 AM

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An interesting literary use of needlework was in the Scarlet Letter. Hester Prynne, the young woman at the center of the story, makes her living by needlework, both sewing garments and especially by her embroidery. When convicted of adultery, and ordered to wear a badge announcing her crime, she makes an elaboratedly decorated A. Throughout the book we are told of her needle prowess, how she would make and was sought out for making the decorated garments of state (such as elaborately embroidered glove gauntlets), and other marks of status, how she dressed her daughter Pearl in delightfully well made and sewn garments, how, later in life, she not only did sewing for money, but was one who spent a lot of time making charity goods as well. The one thing she was not called on was to make wedding garments for the bride. Even though Hawthorne is actually making a statement about human nature and the wrongs we do each other, Hester's needlework is seen in some sense as a virtuous skill which goes hand in hand in her transformation of wounded but wicked woman to saint.

posted by Mrs. Stone 4:45 AM

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While the earlier folk tale discusses the drudgery of spinning, there is another where the willingness to work hard and do what one should with needle, shuttle and and spindle is rewarded by the touch of magic.
There was a young woman who lived in a small house at the end of the road in a little village. She had lost her parents when she was a little girl, and went to live with her godmother, who supported herself buy spinning, weaving and sewing.
The woman taught the girl well in how to sew, spin, and weave, and all the other things a poor but respectible woman should know. When the girl was 15, her godmother called her to her bedside.

"My dear, I am at the end of my days. I leave you my little house, to keep the wind and weather off of you, and I leave my spindle, needle and shuttle, by which you can earn your living. Keep the love of God in your heart, and all will go well with you." After that, her godmother closed her eyes, and breathed her last.

The girl kept to the ways her godmother taught her, and lived alone in the little house, and kept busy spinning, and weaving and sewing. Whenever she wove a piece of cloth or made a bedspread or rug, or sewed a shirt, she found a buyer right away who paid her well, and the people of the village thought well of her. She was in want of nothing, and was generous to share with others who were in more need than she.

This went on for several years. Meanwhile, the King of that land had sent his son in quest of a bride. The prince had had a dream and declared that the woman he would marry would be both the richest and the poorest, and he searched all over the land looking for her.

He had travelled across the countryside many months looking for a woman like this, but had yet to find her. Finally he reached the village where the young woman lived. The locals pointed out the richest girl in town, who lived in the big house in the center, and directed him to the poorest girl, she who lived alone at the end of the village. When the richest girl saw the prince, she came out of her house in all her splendor and curtsied to the prince, but he said nothing and went on. He travelled on to where the young maiden lived.

He peeked through her window, where she was sitting, busily spinning. At first she didn't notice she was bing watched, but caught a glance of him, and then blushed very prettily, let her eyes fall down, and went on with her spinning, until he rode away.

"It is too warm here by the fire, " she said, and went to the window to watch the prince ride away. When she could no longer make him out, she went back to her spinning, and began to sing a bit of a spinning song she had learned from her godmother:
"Spindle, my spindle,
hurry hurry away,
and bring my true love
to me I pray."

She and her godmother had sung this song many times. But what happened this time? Her spindle sprang right out of her hand and danced out the door, going down the road. She watched it's merry dance as it wobbled in the direction the prince had ridden off, trailing a gold thread behind it. She stared at it in amazement, then looked at her hands, and grabbed her shuttle.

"If I can't spin now, at least I'll weave, " she said.

While she was sitting down at her loom and getting ready to work, the spindle continued it's wobbly dance onward, to near where the prince was resting. The prince, who evidently was wise in the ways of marvelous events, watched the madcap antics of this spindle and golden thread, and waited as it grow closer. Right as it got within hand's reach, the spindle ran out of thread, and stopped. The prince picked it up and said, "This spindle must want to show me the way!" Getting back on his horse, he began to follow the thread back the way it came.

The girl was patiently weaving, and wondering about her spindle, when she began singing a weaving song her godmother had taught her:
"Shuttle, my shuttle
Weave well today,
and bring my true love
to me, I pray."

Immediately the shuttle twisted out of her hand, and like the spindle, it went out of the door, but this time, it began to weave a carpet in unbelievable speed, and of unbelievable beauty. Flowers twined in gorgeous patterns along the edge of it, and in the center, a golden ground held pictures of the hunt -stag and hound and boar and rabbit in a merry chase around the trees of the wildwood, while birds merrily danced in the trees. All this the girl saw take shape with her own eyes.

Taking her needle, she began to sing the sewing song her godmother taught her:

"Needle, needle,
prepare the way
for my true love
to find me, I pray."

The needle leapt out of her hand and flew around the room as fast as lightning. The tables and benches were covered with fine cloth, beautifully worked, her chairs were cushioned in velvet, and curtains of fine lace hung by the windows.

Hardly had the needle stopped, and found its way back into her hand, that the young woman saw the prince drawing near with her spindle clutched in his hand. Dismounting, he walked over the carpet and opened the door. He looked around the house in amazement at the rich appointments, (for he had seen the house not an hour before) and he looked at the young woman there, wearing the clothes of a poor woman, but who seemed to glow with a special beauty that riches do not buy.

She blushed prettily once again as he looked at her.

"It's you - you're the one who is the poorest and the richest, just like in my dream. Come with me, and be my bride."

She did not speak, but she gave him her hand. Then he gave her a kiss, , lifted her on to his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings.

As for the spindle, shuttle, and needle? They were preserved in the treasure-chamber, and held in great honor.

posted by Mrs. Stone 11:43 AM

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There is a folk tale that casts light onto both the value and need and drudgery involved with spinning.
Once there was a girl whose mother could not get her to sit still and do her daily amount of spinning linen for anything. She would bribe her, and it wouldn't work. She would punish her, and it wouldn't work. One day, after a particularly bad blow up, the woman was sitting outside of her house, exasperated, while her daughter was inside weeping loudly.
The queen of that region came by, and stopped the carriage when she heard the girl's crying. She asked the woman why her daughter was weeping so loudly, and the woman, embarrassed by her daughter's lazy ways, said her daughter was being punished for spinning too much, because they couldn't afford all the flax she was using.
This image of an industrial young woman pleased the queen to no end. "I love to hear the sound of the spinning wheel. I love such an industrious spirit. Send out your daughter, and I will take her in service. She shall be well rewarded for her industry!"
Seeing how her daughter would finally have to sit down and spin, the exasperated mother quickly agreed.
The queen brought the girl into her home, and lead her to a room where there was a large amount of flax stored. "Your mother told me how much you love to spin, child, and how you would spin thread more than she could afford the flax. Here is the best spinning wheel in the castle, and all the flax you could want. When you have spun it all, I will marry you to my son, for I think industry and a willing spirit is better dowry than gold or lands."
For three days, the girl sat in her room and stared at the flax and wept, for she sorely hated to spin, and knew she could not spin all that flax if it took 50 years. The next day, she looked out the window, and saw three women coming her way. The first of whom had a broad flat foot, the second had such a great underlip that it hung down over her chin, and the third had a broad thumb. "Child," they asked, "What is wrong?" and the girl told of her predicament."Child," they said, "If you call us your aunts, and invite us to the wedding, and have us sit at the table with you, and we will spin for you. We love to spin."
The girl quickly agreed and let them
They set to work immediately. The girl had never seen anybody spin the way they did as a team. She of the big foot treadled the wheel, she of the big lip wetted the linen, and she of the broad thumb twisted and pulled the linen into the finest of threads. What would have taken her years to spin, and spin badly, took just a month. Her aunts hid whenever the queen came by to check on the girl. But the queen was mightily pleased with the work.
After the last skein was finished, the three women took their leave, and reminded her of their promise. Nor did the queen forget her promise to the girl, and soon wedding preparations were in full swing. The girl did not forget her promise, and as the three women came to the wedding feast, they were seated at the table with the girl and her mother and the royal family.
"Do you spin too?" the women were asked. "Of course," they said. She of the broad foot said, "It was from treadling that I got my broad foot."
"It was from wetting the thread that I got my broad lip," said the second.
"It was from twisting the thread that I got my broad hand." said the third.
The prince, who looked at his lovely young bride and the three aunts, said, "My dearest, you shall never spin again."
And thus the young girl's fortune was made.

(Spinning was hard and useful and boring work. Not having to spin was no doubt a joy many young girls looked forward to!)

posted by Mrs. Stone 4:37 AM

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There is a legend that Queen Elizabeth I began wearing silk stockings because one of her women knitted her a pair, and she liked them so well, she declared that she would no longer wear woven fabric stockings. In fact, her father Henry wore silk stockings whenever he could get a pair. They were still rare and expensive and had to come from Spain, but woolen stockings were already coming into use (although at this time were probably knit fairly coursely, and something a young king who was proud of the way his calves looked when dancing would never have wanted to wear, no doubt).
By the American Revolution, stockings were commonly knit of silk, wool or thread (fine linen). Poor women tended to dye their stockings black; frequently after they were knit. The traditional color for everyday stockings for men in much of England and thus America was a greyish blue. Bluestockings, the nickname for intellectual women, derived from this color blue. White stockings required care in keeping them white, and thus the working poor tended to stay away from them for everyday use. Those with more means and ability preferred many other colors than black. It is said when Queen Victoria donned her mourning clothing, her black stockings had white feet. Some have wondered if this was to make it clear they weren't working class women's stockings.

posted by Mrs. Stone 4:32 PM

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Aside from stockings, knit caps of various styles and shapes have probably been one of the mainstays of knitting since it became widespread in Europe. The Scottish bonnet, the fez, the tam, the beret, the stocking cap, all have old histories and are continually in use. As someone noted, among historical figures Henry VIII, John Knox and Rob Roy all shared one thing in common - the use of knitted caps. The professional knitters and wool producers had an act passed in England in 1571 to require men below a certain rank to wear a woolen, knitted cap - but these hats had been high fashion for a long time before, and we see portraits of well-heeled gentlemen sporting their caps. Even after the fashions changed and the working class were able to get away from the requirement, knitted caps have remained popular...The classic hat of the french voyageurs who explored the hinterland of North America was a knit cap which and interesting characteristic: it starts at the point on one end, increases to the center, then after knitting a cylinder of proper length, decreases to a point. It is worn by doubling the length. (a hat of this design can also be used as a neck scarf!) A similar pattern is found in the 1840s _Handbook of Needlework_ by Miss Lambert, where there it is used as a night cap. And let us not forget the classic watch cap. The knitting manuals of WWI and WWII have plenty of watch cap type patterns...but in shape and size, it is very similar to working class laborer's caps of the late English Renaissance. Nowadays these types of hats are called beanies and are all the rage. What goes around comes around.

posted by Mrs. Stone 9:02 AM

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