Quilts: Their Story and How to Make Them (19 page)

Quite often beautiful quilts are found in old trunks and bureaus, which have gathered dust for untold years in attics and storerooms. Opportunities to ransack old garrets are greatly appreciated by collectors, as the uncertainty of what may be found gives zest to their search. It was of such old treasure trove that the hangings were found to make what Harriet Beecher Stowe in her novel, “The Minister’s Wooing,” calls “the garret boudoir.” This was a cozy little enclosure made by hanging up old quilts, blankets, and coverlets so as to close off one corner of the garret. Her description of an old quilt used in this connection is especially interesting. It “was a bed quilt pieced in tiny blocks, none of them bigger than a sixpence, containing, as Mrs. Katy said, pieces of the gowns of all her grandmothers, aunts, cousins, and female relatives for years back; and mated to it was one of the blankets which had served Mrs. Scudder’s uncle in his bivouac at Valley Forge.”

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THE “SNOWFLAKE” QUILT DESIGN

Brings to one’s imagination the sharp-pointed, glistening snowflakes against a background of blue sky. The quilting in fine stitches simulates the applied pattern, and the border suggests drifts of snow as one sees them after a winter’s storm

To view the real impromptu exhibitions of quilts—for which, by the way, no admission fee is
charged—one should drive along any country road on a bright sunny day in early spring. It is at this time that the household bedding is given its annual airing, and consequently long lines hung with quilts are frequent and interesting sights. During this periodical airing there becomes apparent a seemingly close alliance between patchwork and nature, as upon the soft green background of new leaves the beauty of the quilts is thrown into greater prominence. All the colours of the rainbow can be seen in the many varieties of design, for there is not a line that does not bear a startling “Lone Star of Texas,” “Rising Sun,” or some equally attractive pattern. Gentle breezes stir the quilts so that their designs and colours gain in beauty as they slowly wave to and fro. When the apple, cherry, and peach trees put on their new spring dresses of delicate blossoms and stand in graceful groups in the background, then the picture becomes even more charming.

This periodical airing spreads from neighbour to neighbour, and as one sunny day follows another all the clothes lines become weighted with burdens of brightest hues. Of course, there is no rivalry between owners, or no unworthy desire to show off,
yet, have you ever seen a line full of quilts hung wrong side out? It has been suggested that at an exhibition is the logical place to see quilts bloom. Yet, while it is a rare chance to see quilts of all kinds and in all states of preservation, yet it is much like massing our wild Sweet Williams, Spring Beauties, and Violets in a crowded greenhouse. They bravely do their best, but you can fairly see them gasping for the fresh, free air of their woodland homes. A quilt hung on a clothes line in the dooryard and idly flapping in the wind receives twice the appreciation given one which is sedately folded across a wire with many others in a crowded, jealous row.

T
HE dominant characteristics of quilt making are companionship and concentrated interest. Both of these qualities, or—better yet—virtues, must be in evidence in order to bring a quilt to successful completion. The sociable, gossipy “quilting bee,” where the quilt is put together and quilted, has planted in every community in which it is an institution the seeds of numberless lifelong friendships. These friendships are being made over the quilting frames to-day just as they were in the pioneer times when a “quilting” was almost the only social diversion. Content with life, fixity of purpose, development of individuality, all are brought forth in every woman who plans and pieces a quilt. The reward of her work lies, not only in the pleasure of doing, but also in the joy of possession—which can be passed on even to future generations, for a well-made quilt is a lasting treasure.

All this is quite apart from the strictly useful functions which quilts perform so creditably in every home, for quilts are useful as well as artistic. In summer nights they are the ideal emergency covering for the cool hour before dawn, or after a rapid drop in temperature, caused by a passing thunderstorm. But in the long chill nights of winter, when the snow sifts in through the partly raised window and all mankind snuggles deeper into the bed clothes, then all quilts may be truly said to do their duty. And right well they do it, too, as all those who love to linger within their cozy shelter on frosty December mornings will testify.

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THE DOGWOOD QUILT

Offers another choice in flower designs. The full-grown blossoms on the green background remind us of the beauty of trees and flowers in early spring

As a promoter of good-will and neighbourly interest during the times when our new country was being settled, and woman’s social intercourse was very limited, the “quilting bee” holds a worthy place close beside the meeting-house. The feeling of coöperation so noticeable in all men and growing communities, and which is really essential for their success, is aptly described in the old “Annals of Tennessee,” published by Dr. J. G. M. Ramsey in 1853 (“Dedicated to the surviving pioneers of Tennessee”):

“To say of one he has no neighbours was sufficient,
in those times of mutual wants and mutual benefactions, to make the churl infamous and execrable. A failure to ask a neighbour to a raising, clearing, a chopping frolic, or his family to a quilting, was considered a high indignity; such an one, too, as required to be explained or atoned for at the next muster or county court. Each settler was not only willing but desirous to contribute his share to the general comfort and public improvement, and felt aggrieved and insulted if the opportunity to do so were withheld. ‘It is a poor dog that is not worth whistling for,’ replied the indignant neighbour who was allowed to remain at home, at his own work, while a house raising was going on in the neighbourhood. ‘What injury have I done that I am slighted so?’”

Quilts occupied a preëminent place in the rural social scheme, and the quilting bees were one of the few social diversions afforded outside of the church. Much drudgery was lightened by the joyful anticipation of a neighbourhood quilting bee. The preparations for such an important event were often quite elaborate. As a form of entertainment quilting bees have stood the test of time, and from colonial days down to the present
have furnished much pleasure in country communities.

In a quaint little book published in 1872 by Mrs. P. G. Gibbons, under the title, “Pennsylvania Dutch,” is a detailed description of a country quilting that Mrs. Gibbons attended. The exact date of this social affair is not given, but judging from other closely related incidents mentioned by the writer, it must have taken place about 1840, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. The account reads as follows:

“Aunt Sally had her quilt up in her landlord’s east room, for her own was too small. However, at about eleven she called us over to dinner, for people who have breakfasted at five or six have an appetite at eleven.

“We found on the table beefsteaks, boiled pork, sweet potatoes, ‘Kohl-slaw,’ pickled cucumbers and red beets, apple butter and preserved peaches, pumpkin and apple pie, sponge cake and coffee. After dinner came our next neighbours, ‘the maids,’ Susy and Katy Groff, who live in single blessedness and great neatness. They wore pretty, clear-starched Mennonist caps, very plain. Katy is a sweet-looking woman and, although she is more than
sixty years old, her forehead is almost unwrinkled, and her fine hair is still brown. It was late when the farmer’s wife came—three o’clock; for she had been to Lancaster. She wore hoops and was of the ‘world’s people.’ These women all spoke ‘Dutch,’ for the maids, whose ancestors came here probably one hundred and fifty years ago, do not speak English with fluency yet.

“The first subject of conversation was the fall house-cleaning; and I heard mention of ‘die carpett hinaus an der fence’ and ‘die fenshter und die porch,’ and the exclamation, ‘My goodness, es was schlimm.’ I quilted faster than Katy Groff, who showed me her hands, and said, ‘You have not been corn husking, as I have.’

“So we quilted and rolled, talked and laughed, got one quilt done, and put in another. The work was not fine; we laid it out by chalking around a small plate. Aunt Sally’s desire was rather to get her quilting finished upon this great occasion than for us to put in a quantity of fine needlework. About five o’clock we were called to supper. I need not tell you all the particulars of this plentiful meal; but the stewed chicken was tender and we had coffee again.

“Polly M’s husband now came over the creek in the boat, to take her home, and he warned her against the evening dampness. The rest of us quilted a while by candles, and got the second quilt done at about seven. At this quilting there was little gossip, and less scandal. I displayed my new alpaca and my dyed merino and the Philadelphia bonnet which exposes the back of my head to the wintry blast. Polly, for her part, preferred a black silk sunbonnet; and so we parted, with mutual invitations to visit.”

The proverbial neatness of the ancestors of the Dutch colonists in America was characteristic of their homes in the new land. This is well illustrated in the following description of a Pennsylvania Dutch farmer’s home, similar to the one in which the quilting above mentioned took place: “We keep one fire in winter. This is in the kitchen which, with nice housekeepers, is the abode of neatness, with its rag carpet and brightly polished stove. Adjoining the kitchen is a state apartment, also rag-carpeted, and called ‘the room.’ Will you go upstairs in a neat Dutch farmhouse? There are rag carpets again. Gay quilts are on the best beds, where green and red calico, perhaps in the
form of a basket, are displayed on a white ground; or the beds bear brilliant coverlets of red, white, and blue, as if to ‘make the rash gazer wipe his eyes.’”

There are many things to induce women to piece quilts. The desire for a handsome bed furnishing, or the wish to make a gift of one to a dear friend, have inspired some women to make quilts. With others, quilt making is a recreation, a diversion, a means of occupying restless fingers. However, the real inducement is love of the work; because the desire to make a quilt exceeds all other desires. In such a case it is worked on persistently, laid aside reluctantly, and taken up each time with renewed interest and pleasure. It is this intense interest in the work which produces the most beautiful quilts. On quilts that are made because of the genuine interest in the work, the most painstaking efforts are put forth; the passing of time is not considered; and the belief of the majority of such quilt makers, though unconfessed, doubtless, is the equivalent of the old Arab proverb that “Slowness comes from God, but hurry from the devil.”

All women who are lonely do not live in isolated farmhouses, prairie shacks, or remote villages. In
reality, there are more idle, listless hands in the hearts of crowded bustling cities than in the quiet country. City women, surrounded by many enticing distractions, are turning more and more to patchwork as a fascinating yet nerve-soothing occupation. Not only is there a sort of companionship between the maker and the quilt, but there is also the great benefit derived from having found a new interest in life, something worth while that can be built up by one’s own efforts.

An anecdote is told of a woman living in a quiet little New England village who complained of her loneliness there, where the quilting bees were the only saving features of an otherwise colourless existence. She told the interested listener that in this out-of-the-way hamlet she did not mind the monotony much because there were plenty of “quiltings,” adding that she had helped that winter at more than twenty-five quilting bees; besides this, she had made a quilt for herself and also helped on some of those of her immediate neighbours.