Lives and Legacies

Tag: 1743 Probate Inventory

  • Making our mark…on the laundry

    18th-century household linen management and its 21st-century historic house equivalent

    For the modern historic house museum collections staff, the care and cleaning of our spaces and objects are some of the most important tasks we do.  Proper dusting and routine cleaning helps preserve historic objects, vacuuming floors and wiping down woodwork help to maintain our historic interiors, and rotation of sensitive works help to prolong their life through limited light exposure and other environmental impacts.

    In January and February each year, when the Historic Kenmore and Ferry Farm sites are typically closed to the public, the curatorial staff is able to access the spaces to conduct inventories and condition assessments of objects…and to clean. Spring cleaning at the Washington House this year involved quite a bit of teamwork between our curatorial and buildings & grounds staff—fresh coats of whitewash went up on high-traffic areas of this historic recreation, and the wooden floors were vacuumed, spot-cleaned, and mopped to remove built-up dirt from tours and other activities.

    Low-post bedstead in the Hall Back Room piled high with reproduction bedding.

    Maintaining the bedsteads of the Washington House is an ongoing task for our interpretive staff, as they tidy and straighten the sheets and pillows that are moved about by visitors (something we encourage and celebrate!) during their immersive tour experiences.  This year, as we (the curatorial staff) conducted our spring-cleaning routine, we tightened the bedstead ropes and refreshed the bedding to prep the house for another busy year.  But as we went about conducting our room-by-room inventories and pulling bedding out for washing or airing, we uncovered an issue: many of our modern museum object labels for the sheets and pillowcases had become unreadable.

    White linen reproduction bedsheet with its twill tape label (sans number).

    Marking textiles in a museum collection typically entails a small length of twill (woven cloth) tape, a handwritten or applied object number, and small stitches to attach the tape to the textile object.  But for our reproduction bed linens on the bedsteads of the Washington House, these labels no longer were readable due to laundering—the “permanent” number used just didn’t last.  So what are our options?

    As we like to do, we turned to the past for an understanding of what might be a better, but still historically accurate method for marking our linens.  One such resource we turned to was cookery and household books of the period.  The Workwoman’s Guide, for example, includes a number of receipts (or instructions) for making marking ink as well as detailed instructions for marking household linens with thread.  In marking of linens, according to the author (A Lady), the textile would be marked with either the husband’s initials or the wife’s first name along with husbands initials, followed by an abbreviation of the type of article, and finally by the number and a date marker (last two digits of the year, for instance). 

    Receipt for “Permanent Ink for Marking Linen.” from The workwoman’s guide : containing instructions to the inexperienced in cutting out and completing those articles of wearing apparel, &c. which are usually made at home : also, explanations on upholstery, straw- platting, bonnet-making, knitting, &c. By A Lady (1838) via Smithsonian Libraries and Archives on Archive.org

    Existing household linens in museum collections and references in the written record indicate that some were in fact marked with numbers or initials/names (or both) to enable the items to be tracked and inventoried, although the exact combination of numbers and letters seem to vary, likely based on a complexities of the household and its linen inventory. The probate inventory taken after Augustine Washington’s death in 1743 records a variety of household textiles at Ferry Farm, including tablecloths, napkins, pillowcases, sheets, and towels.  The appraisers, however, make no note of whether these textiles were marked in any way (just noting materials or other descriptors and quantity). 

    Excerpt of 1743 probate inventory of Augustine Washington listing “Linnen,” including 6 Diaper Table Cloths, 10 Napkins, 6 pr Sheets, 10 White Linnen Napkins, 11 pr Pillow Cases, 8 Towells, 5 pr White Sheets, 5 pr brown Do. [Sheets], 6 pr Pillow Cases, 12 Towels, 7 Table Cloths, 11 Old Napkins, and 12 Oznabs Napkins. Inventory submitted 1 July 1743 to King George County court.

    The archaeological record of Ferry Farm includes a number of implements related to sewing, as touched upon in past blog posts such as this one or this one about thimbles.  Our own museum collections house a few 18th or early 19th century sheets or other household linens, some of which have been marked in ink or stitching with (unidentified) owners’ initials/names and dates, much in keeping with the instructions outlined in period references such as The Workwoman’s Guide and other household manuals.

    Sample layout and makeup of marks to include owner’s initials, item identification, number, and date. Excerpt from The workwoman’s guide (1838) via Smithsonian Libraries and Archives on Archive.org

    So, for our modern museum inventory management purposes, I think we’ll be skipping the caustic nitrate of silver or crunchy cochineal beetles for coloring and stick to the needle and thread method of marking our reproduction bedding and other textiles.  As suggested by A Lady, the Washington House marks will include both Mary and Augustine Washington’s initials along with notations of item type (such as WS for the five pairs of White Sheets listed in the 1743 inventory) and date of creation (for many of these reproduction linens, that would be 2018 or 2019).  I’ll be getting my needle and thread ready so that next year’s inventory and spring cleaning will hopefully be easy-breezy.

    Gretchen Goodell Pendleton

    Aldrich Director of Curatorial Operations

  • Horsing Around: Archeological Finds at Ferry Farm

    Think about a portrait or painting of George Washington.  What is a common element in the paintings?  His uniform, yes, he is indeed painted quite a bit in his impressive military uniform. But how about a horse?  George is often painted riding beautiful horses with a quiet dignity and noble appearance we expect from the father of our country. 

    Washington at Verplanck’s Point by John Trumbull, Source: Winterthur

    However, the horses in these paintings are not mere symbols of wealth or power. They are depicted with George because, from a tender age, his life has been intertwined with these creatures. As a surveyor, soldier, landowner, farmer, gentry, commander-in-chief, and president, he was inextricably linked with horses, not just as a mode of transportation but as a vital part of his daily life.

    And it all started at Ferry Farm…

    George moved to Ferry Farm around 1738 at the age of six. His father, Augustine Washington, was a member of the “planter class,” or Colonial American gentry. This meant he was a prominent member of society, involved in politics, and owned lots of land. Augustine purchased 150 acres across the river from Fredericksburg and later added an additional 450-acre parcel.  In total, he owned Little Hunting Creek, Pope’s Creek, and the Ferry Farm properties. 

    The point?  Augustine needed help because there were places to be, people to see, and fields to farm.  So, horses were a fundamental necessity for the Washington family, and George would have grown up around them, taking care of them and learning to ride.

    We have two great sources that give us some understanding of the horse situation at Ferry Farm. First, in 1743, the Washington patriarch died, leaving behind a widow, an 11-year-old George, and a probate inventory. On page two of the inventory, three horses and one mare are listed.

    Augustine Washington Probate Inventory, 1743

    Secondly, some pretty cool horse tack dating from the Washington occupation has been found during various archeological digs.

    The Finds

    One of the most universally known horse tack, essential for all horse maintenance – is the horseshoe.  The horseshoe was used to protect the hooves because “…being rendered subservient to the use of man…applied to severe and continued labour, and compelled to tread frequently…on the irregular and stony surface of the roads, it became necessary to secure his feet from ruin by strengthening them with the iron band which we call a shoe” (Vial de Saint Bel, 1793).  These shoes were handmade with no standardization across makers in shape, narrowness, or thickness. (Hume, 2001).  This makes it difficult to pinpoint and assign a time on shape alone.

    Farrier Shoeing a Horse by Marechal Ferrant et Operant Source: The Wellcome Collection

    Our horseshoe was found in the second cellar of the Washington Home. It is quite wide between the branches (the curving sides), and the toe seems to straighten a bit at the center. The crease (the groove that runs down the sides) gives enough depth to allow the shoe to be firmly attached to the hoof with six nails (which we found a few originals). (University of Zurich, 2024)  This find illustrates that there was active shoeing and horse maintenance going on at the farm.  Additionally, these horses were ridden or used for farm work because shoes were used to protect the hooves from the wear and tear of hard roads, distribute the horse’s weight evenly on uneven ground, and provide traction on various surfaces. 

    Horseshoe with original nails

    Another artifact found in the cellar of the Washington Home, the stirrup, further demonstrates horse riding as a family necessity. (Cofield, 2014) 

    Stirrup

    The stirrups are used as foot support for the rider, and they hang from a saddle on straps known as stirrup leathers.   Basic stirrups are made of three parts the eyes for the stirrup leathers to attach the stirrup to the saddle, a platform or base where the rider places their foot, and arms which connect the eye to the base. (Cofield, 2014)

    Examples of Stirrup Forms Source: Diagnostic Artifacts in Maryland

    Horseback riding master and author VS Littauer described the Forward Seat as a stirrup-centric approach versus traditional riding’s seat-centric. He argued riding without stirrups taught people to grip with the knee, which he considered a dangerous habit and likely to stiffen the rider. With stirrups, you can ride with a looser knee, letting your weight flow PAST your knee and into the stirrup. That is a more secure approach than riding with the thigh and knee. (Littauer, 1962)

    Captain Vladimir Littauer – Forward Seat Riding,1947

    Stirrups allow the rider’s legs to absorb up/down motion by allowing them to stand in matching balance with the horse, which makes riding longer distances more comfortable. Augustine certainly had to travel a great distance to check on his properties and perform his civic duties, like serving as a justice of the peace and sheriff for the county of Westmoreland. 

    One final utilitarian bit of horse tack found again in the cellar is a mullen mouth bit or snaffle bit. This bit consists of two rings on each side of a half-moon-shaped bar with no joint.  The bit applies even pressure on the horse’s tongue and bars (gums) and allows the horse’s lips to feel the pressure from the bit and side rings.  The bit, bridle, and reins function to create communication between the rider and the horse.

    Mouth Bit

    The Washington children would have used bits to learn to control.  They would have learned how to work with the horse in a cooperative way that would create an effortless and seamless ride.  George used this skill of communication and intuition to become a great rider.  As Thomas Jefferson reminisced in a letter in 1814, “his person, you know, was fine, his stature exactly what one would wish, his deportment easy, erect, and noble; the best horseman of his age, and the most graceful figure that could be seen on horseback.” (National Archives, n.d.)

    Lastly, just south of “The Quarter,” we uncovered around twenty leather ornaments.   They were used to decorate the leather straps, nosebands, harnesses, and reins of horses.  We wrote a post about them earlier explaining their purpose, which was purely aesthetic. Horse tack could be made without these pieces, but where is the fun in that?  These flashy accessories were a great way to grab the attention of the public and hint at how fashionable and elegant you were as you trotted through town.    


    These artifacts illustrate that not only were horses actively used by the family, but it also fostered an environment where young George would have taken his first steps into learning about horsemanship.  This knowledge and skill would help him in his future careers of surveying the Shenandoah Valley, as a lieutenant colonel during the French and Indian War, as a farmer and landowner at Mount Vernon, as a representative in the House of Burgesses, as commander-and-chief of the Continental Army and finally President of the United States. 

    Come see our new pop-up exhibit at Ferry Farm, where all these wonderful artifacts are displayed and put together with the help of our Fleming-Smith scholar, Sarah Moore.


    References

    Cofield, S. R. (2014, May 14). Stirrups. Retrieved from Diagnostic Artifacts in Maryland: https://apps.jefpat.maryland.gov/diagnostic/SmallFinds/Stirrups/index-stirrups.html

    Hume, I. N. (2001). A Guide to Artifacts of Colonial America. New York: Vintage Books.

    Littauer, V. S. (1962). The Development of Modern Riding. Washington D.C.: D.Van Nostrand Company, Inc.

    National Archives. (n.d.). Thomas Jefferson to Walter Jones, 2 January 1814. Retrieved from Founders Online: https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/03-07-02-0052

    University of Zurich. (2024). Fullering. Retrieved from E-Hoof: https://e-hoof.com/glossary/en/fullering/

    Vial de Saint Bel, C. (1793). Lectures on the Elements of Farriery. London: Veterinary College, London.