Colonial Williamsburg - Wigmakers and other artisans

Wigs were big back in 1760.

The delight of Williamsburg is really in the hundreds of employees that come to work every day, don a period costume, and begin working an 18th century trade.  Over two and a half days I have observed wigmaking, silversmithing, printing, and mantau-making.  I have also stepped into an old fashioned apothecary.  Herewith, some artisans hard at work.

Wigmaker. 

Wigs were in fashion before the Revolutionary War.  You could order up a custom wig made of sheep, yak, or human hair.  The human hair came from girls in Eastern Europe who earned money selling their locks.  And while ladies could and did own wigs, they were mostly worn by wealthy men.  They were a status symbol.  And while we think of white wigs as the most common of that era, they were actually more expensive and reserved for formal occasions and portraits.  The most popular wigs were brown, worn over a shaved head.  Our wigmaker assured us colonial wigs were quite comfortable. 

Millinery and mantau-maker. 

 Until Eli Whitney, cotton was too hard to process to make into cloth.  The colonists relied on sheep and flax grown locally.  Our artisans were at the spinning wheel and at the loom when we met them.  The loom could produce an inch of cloth in 3-4 minutes with a skilled weaver.  Lodging in a canopy bed was always more expensive, not because of the extra wood (cheap) but because of the cloth curtains (pricey).

Apothecary.

It's here at the apothecary that Steven learned about the best methods for storing live leeches (keep them in a bowl marked "leeches" and  let them feed on human blood as needed, to keep them alive), and some old remedies still used today (camphor, antacids, licorice, smelling salts).  The smelling salts are ground-up antler horn. Medical instruments, which looked like instruments of torture, were in the back room.

Ghost story teller. 

Okay, this guy is not an artisan.  He's actually a third year student at the nearby College of William and Mary.  His night job is to lead tourists around to dimly lit colonial houses and assure them that the creaks they hear are really the ghosts of previous occupants.  Here he is outside the Bruton Parish Church. 

Colonial Williamsburg - The Lost Art of Drop Spindle Spinning

Betsy tries out drop spindling at the mantua-maker and millinery.  

Cloth was precious back in the 18th century, and there were no shortcuts.  You had to make the thread before you could weave  the cloth.  I had a taste of the process of creating yarn and thread when I visited the local Williamsburg millinery, which uses not only spinning wheels but an apparatus called the "drop spindle" which resemble a wooden spinning top.

Though our instructor assured us that spinning yarn from loose wool would be easy, and colonial lads and lasses learned to drop spindle spin by the age of five, I could only fumble through the steps.  But here are some pointers.  Use washed and carded wool from Leicester Longwool sheep, now only raised in Williamsburg and remote parts of Australia.  (George Washington had an exceptional flock too, at the time.*).  Use your drop spindle to help you twist the loose wool clockwise into a thread.  Then take that same wool thread and twist it again counterclockwise.  Now you have double worsted yarn.  Now you can dye it and work with it. Easier said than done.  I think I'll just buy ready made.

Leicester Longwool look like regular sheep with perms. They are now quite rare.  

* Leicester Longwool sheep (pronounced "lester") were first bred in England in the mid-1700s and were highly valued in America, but the British only sold ewes to the colonists, so they would have to reorder more sheep when the ewes died.  To start his own breeding stock, George Washington asked a British friend to send him only lambs, which were all described as ewes, but who could really tell? In this way, Washington built up his flock. 

Colonial Williamsburg - Taverns and Coffeehouses

Steven is ready to consume tavern grub.
At Chowning's Tavern on Gloucester Street.

Having been to DC on business, we are now taking a break for some living history in Colonial Williamsburg.  This city was at its apex before the Revolutionary War, as the state capitol of Virginia.  Its fortunes declined after the capitol was moved to Richmond, but it persisted as a quiet college town, home of the College of William & Mary (founded 1693), until John D. Rockefeller Jr. began funding the restoration of the town in the 1930's.  Now I hear they get four million visitors a year.

Mr. George Washington takes his coffee at Charlton's Coffeehouse.
Steven and I sat next to him and asked how his trip from Mt. Vernon went.

For a town founded in 1638, I was expecting something primitive.  But Williamsburg was built for the top 5% of society, and it resembles an upscale British village. Wealthy white male landowners came from hundreds of miles away to serve in the House of Burgesses, one of the ruling bodies for the state of Virginia. That included George Washington, who rode his horse hard for two days to reach the capitol.  When he arrived, he liked to have a coffee at R. Charlton's Coffeehouse or  perhaps something stronger at the Raleigh Tavern.  (We know this because we sat at the table with him.  See picture above. He introduced himself as Mr. Washington, and Steven asked if he was *the* George Washington.  He told us it wasn't the custom to ask strangers' their first name, but conceded that he was indeed that Mr. Washington.)

Our colonial guide shows off his collection of pipes
in the front meeting room of Raleigh Tavern.

Close up of the expensive wallpaper.

In our first day and a half in Williamsburg, we ate at the Chowning's Tavern and visited the Raleigh Tavern, the R. Charlton's Coffeehouse, and Wetherburn's Tavern.  All had to offer the public traveler food, lodging, and drinks at state mandated fees (7 pence for a sleeping space), but then offered private meeting spaces and ballrooms to wealthy patrons for an upcharge. Anyone that was anybody came to these taverns to see and be seen. 

The big meeting room at Raleigh Tavern that
held the first Virginia Continental Congress in May 1776. 

 

NIH unintended visit

Building 10, National Institutes of Health 

Today I got on the wrong shuttle and got a free tour of the National Institutes of Health in Betheseda, MD, a federal facility so secure they have their own police force, and if you do wander in, you will be forced to present your driver's license, run your purse through a scanner, and have your own personal badge created.  It is more secure than Fort Knox.  My hotel shuttle driver, who has been making the NIH loop for 19 years (yes, not a misprint!) said the drastic security measures were only imposed after 9/11.  Even after 19 years of driving through the campus, he takes it slow.  He is that nervous about the NIH police.  I am a tad surprised that a medical center requires such security, but the shuttle driver assured me that there were many dangerous viruses about, and pointed out the hospital where the U.S. ebola victim came to recover.  The NIH hospital is your last resort, it appears.  Still it is a lush green campus with sturdy brick buildings and many scientists bustling about.

My shuttle driver took pity on me, and he rounded the bend to the Metro station, where I had intended to go.  And then I was off to work in my firm's DC office.

The visitor badge I was issued to pass through
the super secure NIH facilities