New Book and a TV Appearance!

My apologies for not keeping faith with all of you, dear readers.
It was a very busy spring and summer. I finished THE LAPORTE INHERITANCE, which turned out to be a real labor of love.
For those who aren't aware, this is an historical fiction book about the founding of French Azilum, told through the fortunes and fates of one of Azilum's main families, the LaPortes. I fell in love with my hero, Bartholomew LaPorte, writing this book. There isn't much extant about him: a few letters by other people referencing him, a couple of passages in a couple of other people's books or journals, and one precious letter penned by Bartholomew himself. Alas, it's about sheep, and doesn't shed much light onto his personality.
But that's kind of the fun in historical fiction. You do your best, or I do at any rate, to find out details on your real life characters, and then what you truly cannot find, you create. I call it 'informed imagining,' and while I researched the LaPorte book heavily, when I couldn't discover facts on a particular incident or characteristic or event, I did have the latitude to imagine what it plausibly would have been.
So the LAPORTE INHERITANCE, all 400 pages of it, takes the reader from France during the French Revolution, to Philadelphia, and finally to the banks of the North Branch of the Susquehanna River where the colony was founded. It spans some 60 or so years, and follows Bartholomew and his great friend Omer Talon as they meet up with investors in Philadelphia and help to hatch the plan to establish Azilum. It was hoped that Marie Antoinette would escape France and the guillotine, and find her way to Azilum. Of course, that didn't happen, but some 200+ nobles did manage to get away, sail the Atlantic and arrive in the U.S. They heard about the Azilum, and decided to settle there and make a new life for themselves...and there begins the tale!
As always, THE LAPORTE INHERITANCE is available on Amazon in Kindle and in Paperback formats.
And next Sunday, October 22 at 8 p.m. on Pennsylvania Cable Network, you can watch an entire hour about the book! The program is called 'PA Books,' and I taped the segment a couple of months ago. Anyone with cable TV in or near Pennsylvania should have the PCN channel and will be able to watch it. I talk in depth about the reasons behind writing the story, how I went about it, and what I think of it, as well as give information on French Azilum itself. (The site is still operated as a living museum, and is open to the public!)
So check out THE LAPORTE INHERITANCE on PA Books next Sunday evening, and if you'd like to read it, head over to Amazon!
Meanwhile, I'm still mounting two period clothing exhibits: one at The Oldest House in Laceyville, and the other at the LaPorte House at French Azilum. I also still visit other historic homes in appropriate garb along with friends Karla, Lisa, Mike and others...and sometimes by myself. The weekend prior to Hallowe'en for those of you in the Wilkes Barre PA area, I'll be a special guest at the Dennison House in Forty Fort where I'll be helping out with their Hallowe'en festivities. Do check the Dennison website for more details, but it's Friday and Saturday, 6-9 both days, and I will say it should be a deliciously creepy and informative experience!
We've got a good slate of events planned for next year at the LaPorte House, too. I generally mention these and advertise them on my Facebook account, Deborah deBilly dit Courville.
Please send me a friend request, and I'll be sure to respond. Also, I've got a page Deborah L. Courville, dedicated to just my books, and another page for my English Country Dance group, and a third page called the Historical Costume and Fashion Society. The last one talks about events I and my friends attend in garb, and we always post photos, so check it out. If you live in the area and would like to join us on any of our events, just let me know on Facebook, or you can email me at debcourville@gmail.com.
Thanks, as always, for reading and I promise to post again soon.

Reflections on a Regency Ball

For those who may not know, this past Saturday evening I attended my first Regency Ball. I've been studying English Country Dance--the stuff they do in Pride and Prejudice, for example--for a couple of years now. The dance group of which I am a part, the Binghamton English Country Dancers, did not have a ball last year, so this year was my first opportunity to dance a series of dances that were in the Regency style (though there were dances from the 17th through the 21st century) in full Regency garb, with 60+ other people similarly attired!

It was a blast. It was elegant and beautiful and most important of all, fun! We were the host dance group, and dancers from Canada, upstate New York and other areas on the Eastern Seaboard joined us. The stunning Victorian Phelps Mansion in Binghamton, NY, was our venue, and their glorious ballroom complete with glittering chandelier was the center of all the action.

There were a couple of moments that will never leave me: the end of 'Sapphire Sea' when the musicians slowed to signal the end of the dance and the entire room collectively and impulsively said, 'ooooohhhhhhhhhh,' to express our disappointment. Such a brilliant evening!

On a personal level, the event brought back a feeling I have not had since I left NYC and Philadelphia and moved here to Northeast Pennsylvania. Dancing again has brought me great joy. (And for those who may not know, I danced ballet from age three through my early 30s, had my own studio in Philadelphia and danced professionally in Boston, Rhode Island, NYC and Philly. I stopped dancing when I moved here because quite frankly there were no classes around at the level I needed.) To move to music is a great gift and one that I am extremely grateful is once again a part of my life.

But last Saturday and in the days leading up to it I quite unexpectedly experienced the recurrence of another feeling, or emotion: the camaraderie of a bunch of women all getting ready for a big event. Yes, sure, in ballet especially there can be cattiness and infighting. But more often there is cooperation and a giving attitude: your pointe shoe ribbon is loose? here, I've got a needle and thread to stitch it firm. You forgot your eyeliner? here, borrow mine.

Two friends and fellow dancers from the Binghamton group asked me if I would lend them dresses for the Ball. They both seemed to think their requests were impositions, when the exact opposite was true: it was a privilege to have been asked. Both chose gowns and wore them to the Ball, and I must say, they looked beautiful. The fun part for me was discussing which gown might look best, helping decide when they tried on a couple to see what they looked like, and kitting them out with coordinating gloves and whatnot so they could have everything they needed. It was great, and I was so pleased to help out.

The good will and camaraderie continued on the evening of the ball when another friend asked me to bring a gown 'just in case' the one she was sewing (almost until the last minute) was not completed or did not fit properly. Then when I arrived at the venue, she asked me to help hook her into the gown when it was finished--that ended up being more pinning her in than hooking her in, but never mind! And finally, because she hadn't had a chance to hem it, she asked me to help with that as well.

As we were hooking, pinning and hemming and just before that while she was sewing and I was affixing my coronet while another woman graciously was snapping me into my gown, other dancers, from our group and elsewhere, floated in and began changing for the Ball. A happy chatter ensued, even though we did not all know each other. I'd brought hair spray and so did a couple of others, in case anyone had forgotten. Someone else had safety pins. Another had extra hair pins. I heard snatches of conversation about hem length, shoe styles and whether one should wear a shawl or not, with advice being freely given and happily received.

It reminded me of backstage, when I was dancing professionally, or even when I was teaching, and at the end of the year, we put on our 'Recital.' It felt wonderful, and it made me smile, and the energy in the suite that the Phelps Mansion allotted us to change was high and happy.

As my friend and I went down the beautiful grand staircase at the Phelps Mansion and prepared to enter the Ballroom--having deemed each other perfect and ready-- I even felt a little flutter as I used to before a performance. This was NOT a performance, but it was rather a grand occasion.The flutter quickly evaporated when I saw the rest of the dancers from my group, all looking so very smart, and was gone for good once the musicians began to play, and we started the Grand Promenade.

I will confess that more than once during the evening I got a bit misty eyed when it hit me that I was actually a part of this splendid event that echoed so faithfully the portrayals we see in films of dancing from the Regency period. That all the practice and study was really paying off! I also had to blink quite rapidly when I saw my friends, in my gowns, whirling away and having a wonderful time. What a joy!

So I will leave you with the assurance that I will be part of the Binghamton English Country Dancers' Ball next year. Another dancer and I have already been thinking about a couple of tweaks to the event, although I think last Saturday night was darn near perfect.

And I will quote the saying that the BECD has adopted as its motto. From Vicki Baum: 'there are shortcuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them.'

A Steep Learning Curve

     Well, I started out with the idea to write a book about Elizabeth Charlotte LaPorte, the daughter of John and granddaughter of Bartholomew, one of the founders of Azilum. She is the first character introduced, and she will be a major player in the book and its story. But the bulk of the first several chapters, at least--I'm on chapter nine, at 13,400 words right now--is all about Bartholomew!
     He's a pretty fascinating guy, and I am imagining a lot about his character and personality since those types of details are few and far between. But because he was associated with Omer Talon in the founding of Azilum, and got to know Morris, Nicholson and a bunch of others who were involved in the land purchase for the location of the town, I've had to do quite a bit of research.
     And I'm still learning. The other day I was looking at ship's logs from that era to get a feel for what a transAtlantic crossing would have been like in 1792-3.  Then I had to learn all about early Philadelphia, including where some houses were, like Morris' house that was actually the President's Residence during this time! Today I was researching canals.
     It was an interesting time full of interesting people with grand ideas. Some, like the men who invested in what would become Azilum, had money, or could borrow money. These are the people who took chances on things like the French Town and on canals and later, railroads. The chances some times turned out. And some times they didn't.
    Which ties in neatly to the story of Elizabeth and her husband...later.
   

Period Garb and The Little Ice Age

Happy September!

I was musing this morning about the fact that in today's world, we who dress in period garb often mutter amongst ourselves about how warm the layers of clothing can be during the warmer months.
Even if one wears all natural fibers, which breathe and are actually cooler, just as they did 200 or 300 years ago, the padding and petticoats required to get the right shape and silhouette, or sometimes just the layers needed with some more diaphanous or light colored dresses from the Regency period, can really make it warm.

There may be a couple of reasons for this. First, we may be wearing modern clothing of centuries past, but we are still modern women. Likelier than not, we are rushing around at the pace we keep when wearing shorts and t shirts, despite our period garb, and so we get quite warm, quite quickly. Efforts to slow down may work for a short while, but overall we resume or usual pace and heat up again.

Did women in centuries past move more slowly? Possibly. Did they have servants to do things for them so they actually led lives of more leisure than we do today? Possibly, at least the 'better' classes, as they termed it then. Was perspiring and its attendant issues like stained and smelly clothing all less important than it is today? Certainly: sensibilities for that type of thing were quite different. Expectations were different and what people smelled like--even when clean--was also different. In fact, the smell of good clean sweat was thought by some to be attractive...but that's the subject for another posting!

As for moving more slowly and leading a more leisurely life, I do not know for certain, but I suspect it is partially true, at least.  Think about it: you get dressed in the early morning: it's still fairly cool, especially inside a thick-walled stone house. Whether or not you have a maid to dress you, you arrive at breakfast quite fresh. After breakfast, perhaps you go cut some flowers for the house. A pleasant task and you do not need to exert a great amount of effort or energy. Your lip may perspire a bit, or your brow, but you likely wouldn't be soaking wet.

Afterwards, maybe you sew or embroider or play the piano--inside, or for the first two pastimes, outside if there is shade and a breeze. You might also read. Again, not sweaty activities. If visitors come in the afternoon, you sit and talk, probably inside. Ground floor rooms are probably fairly cool, but hand fans might be employed if it is warm or humid. If you have hot tea, that actually helps you feel cooler. Eating will also draw blood flow to your stomach, making the rest of you feel slightly cooler. And chatting is normally not an activity requiring great physical exertion.

So you've made it to dinner time without too much perspiring. Once the meal is over, evening pursuits are probably not much more strenuous than those of earlier in the day. Then it's time for bed, and the day is over.

The one thing I think would certainly produce an uncomfortably sweaty situation is a dance in summer time. I don't care if you only have a single layer--scandalous! no petticoat???--and if you are doing the most stately of gavottes: you get all those people together in a room, it'll be warm. And movement, no matter how stately, is movement. You're going to perspire.

So did women in, say, Georgian or Regency times, or even in the Victorian Era, perspire when they went to dances? I think they did, at least if the dance were in summer time, when it would be warm. Why aren't period films' heroines depicted as sweating as or after they dance? Because it isn't terribly attractive. Did people object to the smell of perspiration? Probably less than we do today (see above) and as the decades passed, better methods for cleaning clothing were developed. And because women wore their chemises, or 'shimmys' next to their skin, that article of clothing would absorb much of the perspiration and odor, saving the outer garments. Chemises were usually made of cotton and could easily be washed and women had more than one if they could afford it. So while the ball room might have a distinctly less than fresh odor wafting through it by the middle or end of an evening, the perspiring participants could go home, wash their soiled chemises and probably themselves to some degree, and carry on.

All of this speculation is mostly concerned with the upper or middle upper classes. But what about the lower classes? Again, speculation, but I think those women must have perspired just as much or more than their upper class contemporaries because they were actually working. A laundress, though she spends much time immersed to her elbows in water, must expend considerable, sweat making energy to accomplish her task. Some of the water is very hot, too, making it worse. Women who serve in others' homes as maids of all work, for example, or cooks, would have had to sweep and tidy the house, do the laundry, prepare the meals and clean up, all endeavors that require effort. Going to market and carrying back heavy supplies would equal perspiration. Hauling water from the river and emptying slop pails would also make anyone sweat in the heat. And these women wore as many layers as wealthier women did, although they may have had fewer scruples about hiking up their outer skirts for convenience and coolness during some of the more arduous tasks. They also had a chemise as their first layer of clothing, but unlike wealthier women, they probably only had one. What this meant was that it wasn't washed very often and after a while did little to protect the woman's outer clothing from absorbing the perspiration and odors.

But again, sensibilities and expectations were different then, something that is not easy to assimilate and even more difficult to live: just visit with re enactors or living historians during a heat wave, and you will see what I mean. No matter how die hard you may be, if faced with wearing authentic garb in 90 F degree humid, sunny days, you're going to reach for that modern antiperspirant and deodorant because in today's world the smell of sweat is not as acceptable as it was centuries ago.

But there's one other thing to consider as you look, as I have been this week, at the forecast, and eschew your more elaborate garb for the simplest and coolest you have for upcoming events. I've got a Revolutionary/French & Indian Primitive Encampment event this Saturday and Sunday at the Black Walnut Legion Post near Laceyville, where I'll be in garb selling my historical fiction about The Oldest House (shameless plug). I was going to wear a new 1770's outfit, complete with bum roll, and I was really excited about it, as it's a somewhat new look for me. But it'll be in the upper 80's to low 90's on Saturday, and humid, mid 80's and damp on Sunday, so I'm thinking Regency, and I'll probably remove my bonnet...

So what gives with how hot wearing garb can really be? How did they do it, sensibilities aside, centuries ago without getting soaked through on a hot summer day?

Two or three centuries ago, the weather was, at least in the northern hemisphere, actually cooler. No, it's not your imagination. And this is not a diatribe about global warming, either. Whether that's a factor or not, the fact is that there was something called the 'Little Ice Age' a few centuries back that meant the average temperature could be as much as five degrees cooler in summer over all of Europe and North America.

The Little Ice Age started about 1250-1300 depending on which events one uses to date the Age. Pack ice moved down from the North Pole into the North Atlantic at a remarkable rate around 1300 but the movement had begun a half century earlier. Although 1850 is an accepted terminus for the Age, some climatologists say that it wasn't until the first or second decade of the 20th century that the Age truly ended, followed by gradual warming.

Prior to the Little Ice Age there was what's referred to as the Mediaeval Warm Period, probably a climate similar to what we are experiencing now. This allowed, among other things, for great migrations of people across the globe, because the warmer temperatures allowed for easier travel. So, it's not all bad: if it weren't for the MWP, we might not be living where we are, or not in the same way.

So back to the Little Ice Age. In addition to the pack ice, there were recorded heavier snowfalls. In Europe, warm winters no longer were reliable: there was even one year known as 'the year without a summer' (1816). That was actually caused by volcanic ash that spread across the globe and caused overcast days and dropped temperatures dramatically. But it occurred during the LIA and right after one of the coldest periods of the LIA. This made the volcanic ash from Mount Tambora, which erupted in April of 1815, able to cool the temperature across the world significantly. Crops began to fail, resulting in famines, and also in a change to the way farming was done and which crops were grown. The famines led to emigration and in the U.S., spurred the westward migration. The downswing in agriculture may, I think, have also been a partial impetus for the First Industrial Revolution: if the agrarian way of making a living looked, to most, as though it were going to tank, it would have been natural to invent machines that would enable people to make a living in other ways.

The Thames famously froze over several times, and 'ice fairs' were held on its surface in London. The Baltic Sea froze over during one especially chilly period. In the LIA there were three especially cold periods, one from 1650-1670, one from 1770-1800 and another from 1850-1870. Look at the dates of the LIA and the very cold decades: they coincide exactly with the periods re enactors portray. We strive to faithfully recreate the layers and look of late Renaissance, Georgian, Regency, Victorian, Civil War,  and Belle Epoque garb but we are living in a time when the weather is as much as five degrees warmer overall! If you don't think five degrees is much, think about 85F vs 80F. Especially if it is also humid. Big difference.

No wonder we perspire under our panniers!

The Little Ice Age and indeed, historical global climatology, has fascinated me ever since I learned about the LIA a couple of decades ago. If you're interested, just google it: there's a host of info out there, all of it intriguing and thought provoking.

And the next time you have to garb for an event, remember as you don your cotton petticoat and dress, pop your bonnet on your head, and suddenly feel unacceptably warm, that you are dressing for colder weather than what we are currently experiencing. Take a deep breath. Stay hydrated. Smile...and try to think of perspiration as just your personal 'glow.'

Good luck!

The Past as Therapy:Deep Thoughts on Historical Interpretation and the Modern World

More and more I find myself having brief 'out of body' experiences when watching television ads and news programs. I feel as though whatever is coming through to me on my television is part of a really bad science fiction film that I'm watching, about how horrible the future could be. Cataclysms, terrorist attacks, floods, and other disasters across the globe; extreme weather; reality tv programs that pander to prurience and sensationalism; even bombastic crayon-colored candidates for the highest office in the most powerful nation on the earth: they all make me feel as though this life is surreal. And not in a cool way.

So it's interesting to think that perhaps others are feeling disaffected with this situation, this milieu, this time, if you will. And if they are feeling less inclined to be happy with the present, then perhaps they would enjoy a respite by imagining themselves in another time. In the past, to be precise.

Not that the past was all rainbows and ice cream: far from it! But there were fewer people and statistically, therefore, less crime. Also, most people didn't travel very far from home, and when they did, it still wasn't really far. Therefore, disasters, attacks and similar atrocities in foreign lands, when heard about on U.S. soil, were not as immediately affecting, because they had happened so far away. Very few, if any, felt--as I did a couple of days ago, hearing about the attacks at Ataturk Airport in Istanbul--a personal shock when hearing of a disaster. Or said to themselves in disbelief, as I did, 'gee I've flown into and out of that airport!' Additionally, in the past, communication was far slower than it is today. Therefore, news about disasters, attacks, etc. was doubly removed by distance and by time, because by the time people heard about things that had happened, weeks or even months had gone by.

For all these reasons, and probably more that I could think of but will not address here, the past seems to us here in the present to have been a much simpler time: quieter, calmer, more gracious perhaps as well. And it draws us, particularly when we find today's world less than inviting. The past beckons--'take a rest in me,' it says, 'even for an hour or so, forget the modern world and return to me.'

When I first heard a presentation last year on effective historical interpretation, I was excited. My friends will tell you that that's because I get excited about a lot of things: enthusiasm is one of my character traits. I enjoy an informative presentation when I'm on a tour--something I do rarely, except at historic sites, and even then I prefer to do my own 'tour'--but I really dislike having the obvious presented to me, or stated. I have a brain, and I can read: tell me something I cannot learn on my own!

Taking that tack, when I began doing guided tours at The Oldest House in Laceyville, and now at the LaPorte House at French Azilum near Towanda, I attempted to imbue them with spirit, a bit of that excitement about the past that I felt, a bit of the love and respect for the people and things from former times that I felt, too. I read books on various theories of historical interpretation, and attended another seminar on the subject, and I developed a method of giving a tour in an historic home that invites the visitors to become a part of the house's mythos, inveigles them, for a brief time, to adopt the rôle, mentally of course, of a visitor to the house back in times gone by.

Those who are willing to let their guard down enough to do this, even a little bit, enjoy the tour a great deal. They seem quite willing to enter into the spirit of pretend, a variation on the old 'suspension of disbelief' that we all do from time to time: we know we are not really back in the 18th or 19th century, but isn't it fun to pretend that we are for an hour or so?

I invite the visitors who take my tours of these historic homes to see the homes through the eyes of visitors from centuries past, friends of the family who lived there at that time, perhaps, who are stopping by to say hello. Although the visitors are not dressed in period costume, I am, and I think this adds to that 'suspension of disbelief' for them: everything they are looking at, including me, evokes an earlier time or is, in fact, from an earlier time. My visitors are still cognizant of the fact that they are from the modern world, and still ask questions, like, 'what kind of lighting did they have back in 1836?' (or 1781, or whenever). But they readily slip into the ambience of a past century, if they allow themselves to. (This is one reason I ask for mobiles to be silenced during my tours. Not only would a ring tone be disruptive, it would break the fragile spell I weave around us all as we travel through the house. We are encapsulated in a little bubble of time past, but that bubble can break with the first note of an electronic message.)

Clearly, I enjoy it, too: just look in my closets. There are as many (well, nearly) outfits from 1770-1920 as there are 'modern' clothes; indeed, I appear at so many functions and in photographs online and in print media in period or vintage clothing that when people see me in normal clothes they sometimes don't recognize me right away! And if I go to a fancy function where semi formal or formal dress is the norm, you'll probably see me in period garb, since I actually like wearing the clothes. Also, wearing them typically engenders questions, and these lead to information I can share,  about what I do and where I do it, with others who may not know.

When I tried this technique out the first couple of times, I was a bit hesitant, tentative: would my visitors like it, or would they think I was a fruitcake for suggesting they 'pretend they are visitors to the house, coming to pay a call, perhaps, or coming to see the family and their new house.' Would they do it? Or would they refuse, and trail after me inwardly thinking I was a jerk?

A woman on one of the very first tours I did using this imaginative approach gave me the confidence to carry on with it and now I will unapologetically tell you it has become my favorite part of being a docent at an historic home. When I said, 'I'd like you to imagine, if you will, that you've come today to visit the family here, and you've just alighted from your carriage and come into the house...' she smiled a little bit, closed her eyes, and was clearly seeing herself in a long traveling gown and bonnet, stepping into the centuries old home as a welcome guest of some former owner.

These days, given the state of the country and the world, I feel that people are longing ever more for an escape. Not everyone has the means to fly off to a tropical island where you have no mobile reception or television and can forget for a while the plagues of modernity. But most people have the few dollars that the average historic home requests as a donation to enter and have a tour. And while they may not think of it as an 'escape' as such when planning their visit to The Oldest House or the LaPorte House and French Azilum, subconsciously they welcome it when it is offered to them.

Escape the worries, anxieties, fears and pressures of the modern world, even if just for an hour. Visit an historic home--preferably one of the two I docent at, of course, if you can!--and give your brain a short respite with an imaginative, immersive visit to the past.

EVERYONE LOVES THE INSIDE SCOOP!

Everyone loves the inside scoop, right? Everyone loves to know the little intricacies and details of things, the stuff only people in the sanctum sanctorum, the privileged, the elite, the inner circle, as it were, know, right?
ABSOLUTELY!

Do you love period drama? Are you a Jane Austen fan? Do you miss Downton Abbey? Does your jaw drop at all the glorious, stunning outfits the actors wear?

Well, your chance to find out all about period costuming and historical dress must haves and faux-pas is here!

Those of you within driving distance of French Azilum might wish to mark July 23 on your calendar. On that Saturday, we will be hosting three very special tours of the LaPorte-Hagermann House, focusing on some fabulous reproduction clothing on loan to us from the talented Lynne Symborski. Lynne is known nationally for the historical accuracy and the quality of her work and these garments are breathtaking and exquisite. We at French Azilum (I am on the Board, and I also Docent there now, as well as at The Oldest House) are very fortunate to have this great display this year.
But July 23 is the ONLY chance this year you will have to learn all about underpinnings, ensembles and outerwear for men, women and children from historical costumiers who will be leading the guided tours! (Yes, I'm one of them. The gracious Marny Gerhart and our knowledgable site manager Lee Kleinsmith are the others!)

You'll be greeted on the front porch of the LaPorte-Hagermann House by your historically costumed guide and ushered into the beautiful foyer. Here you'll learn a little bit more about French Azilum and the types of people who lived here (they were nobility or royal descendants, most of them, so there's a clue!), as well as their immediate descendant John LaPorte, who built the House you are visiting. Stunning architectural features will help you to forget the 21st century, and enter an era long past...

And then, the fun begins. Assume the guise of one of the LaPortes' guests, calling on the family, and enter the first reception room. Admire the period furnishings, learn of their provenance, and enjoy the beautifully costumed mannequins representing what visitors at that time might have worn to pay such a visit! It doesn't matter if YOU happen to be in flip flops, shorts or jeans: you can pretend you're wearing a sumptuous cape, gown or top hat like the mannequins. Learn the importance of dress, particularly when calling on friends and acquaintances, and even business partners.

Move on (in rather dramatic fashion if I'm doing the tour!) to the second reception room and learn a bit more about the ways in which the rooms in houses such as the one you are visiting might have been used: visiting, certainly. But what about dances, parties and receptions (as the name implies), even weddings! There's a surprise in this room, but I won't give it away.

You'll leave the public rooms, now, and traverse the grand staircase with its large window that looks out over the property, and pass into the private areas of the House.

Upstairs, mannequins in each of the three bed chambers--and learn why they are called that--represent the ways in which residents of the House might have dressed for bed and immediately upon rising in the morning. You'll get to see exactly how they wore various elements of clothing and undergarments, and why, to achieve the correct 'look' for the fashions of various periods. You will learn the importance of a lady's maid and settle once and for all the mysteries of closets and corsets.
And what about children? What did they wear? See examples and learn more about the theory of child rearing, such as it was, in the 18th and early 19th centuries.
On this floor, you'll also be treated to a peek at French Azilum's research library and even get to see the remarkable lath and plaster on the inside wall of the attic stair!

Returning to the ground floor, you'll be welcomed as a close friend of the family into the Ladies' Parlor. Here again, mannequins dressed for visiting will allow you to more easily assume the identity of such a 'caller' on the family in bygone days. More intriguing items from our past, both furnishings and ornaments, will be on show for your admiration. 
Then it's on to the Library, where a more masculine flavor imbues the room and the mannequins are dressed for sport and outdoor activity of that era. Items here evoke John LaPorte: Pennsylvania's Surveyor General, U.S. Congressman and banker. 

Finally, you'll arrive at the dining room, a spacious area where everyone can have a seat, a glass of iced tea and some home-baked goodies, and ask questions of the tour guides. It is really much more complicated to dress properly in period clothing than you might think, although having been through the tour, you probably will have a much better idea now, than before. (I mean, who knew there were so many types of stays, or 'bodies' or corsets to use their more modern name). Additionally, questions about the house or the families who lived here, if not asked and answered during the tour, will be invited at this time.

Additional history of the house and a visit to the 'new' kitchen, built some time before 1870, will conclude your tour and your glimpse into how people really dressed and lived, and why they wore what they did when they did, even out here in rural Pennsylvania!

So I hope you're intrigued and will decide to make the journey out to French Azilum, near Towanda, PA, on July 23 and visit me and my friends Marny and Lee and allow us to share with you the delight we have found in the LaPorte Hagerman House. 

Reflections on Back Lacing Being Back in the 21st Century

It seems as though most of March and April I spent in earlier times--or at least, dressed for earlier times! Between Downton Abbey themed events (Victorian, Edwardian), Titanic themed events (Edwardian) and regular Queen Victoria's Court Victorian teas, lunches, fashion shows, et cetera, each weekend brought at least one, and in one grueling but fun case THREE, events, each requiring (because I'm me) a different ensemble.
Yeah, yeah, I could just wear the same thing. But wouldn't that be, well, dull? And one thing my best friends will tell you: I am NOT dull!
So on with the corsets and petticoats and chemises and pantalettes and walking suits, gowns, tea dresses, gloves, fans, reticules and hats. And hair ornaments. And parasols. Whew.
If you think getting ready in today's world takes time, it's a breeze compared to what one has to go through and coordinate to dress in the style of centuries past!
This summer I will be helping out at the LaPorte House at French Azilum, in addition to my docenting at The Oldest House. The latter will be limited because of our foundation project at the House, which will give me time to ease my way in to the French Azilum routine. I hope that by next season, when I'll be docenting and curating period clothing exhibits at both homes, I'll be easy and adept at both.
But pursuant to the volunteering at Azilum--and if you don't know what I'm talking about, please google 'French Azilum' and find out about the refuge planned and built in the late 1700's for Marie Antoinette, would she have been able to successfully escape France. She did not, nor did her husband, Louis XVI, or their children. And although nothing but a foundation remains of the scores of little rustic houses built to house the Queen, and which did house some of France's nobility who did successfully escape, French Azilum is a thriving non profit historical site unique in the world. It also boasts the John LaPorte House, built in 1833-36 and quite grand for a house stuck out in the middle of nowhere.
Anyway, pursuant to that activity at Azilum I have been expanding my Georgian and Regency wardrobe because the Regency, of course, suits the LaPorte House (although, like The Oldest House, it was inhabited for decades and generations, and virtually any period of clothing from Regency through WW I or even later if you really want to be 'modern' would be suitable for a docent giving tours). Although the Georgian is too early for the LaPorte House it certainly works for the whole Marie Antoinette vibe. So I plan to wear both, depending on how energetic I feel and the weather.
Energetic, you wonder? Yes. I dress myself because I do not have a lady's maid. So I've made a couple of adjustments to the fastenings, in particular, of my gowns, so that I can get into them solo. Actually, getting out of them is more difficult, but that's another blog!
And while I'm at it, please allow me to weigh in on the subject of back lacing. My new Georgian gowns are both back laced. I like it. And I've figured out a way to do it without a lady's maid, a way which was unavailable to women back in the 18th century.
But--back lacing. This has recently reared its ugly head, due in large part to the popularity of the Starz series Outlander, taken from Gabaldon's books. The story is set in the Georgian period in Scotland and France, thus far. Several women are portrayed wearing back lacing gowns, jackets, dresses, etc. A couple of historical fashion mavens, who no doubt know a lot more about historical fashion than I do, have begun reaming the fashion designers of the program because they included back lacing gowns. So I have to have my say.
First, although I'm sure we've all studied hundreds of extant gowns, dresses, jackets, etc that have survived from this period, none of us lived then or time traveled back to that period. At least that I've heard of. So although we deduce from careful study, we do not empirically KNOW.
Having said that, let's also remember the constraints costume designers are working with, including time, and budget.
Also, I was once told by a woman whose grandmother had told her (and at the time this lady told ME, she was in her 90's) that women wore back lacing corsets and back fastening dresses and gowns ON PURPOSE to show that they were wealthy enough to employ a ladies' maid. Think about it: you cannot really properly do yourself up in a back lacing anything. You can try, but it won't be right. You need someone to lace you up and securely fasten the laces. So back lacing garments, according to this lady's grandmother, who had been born before the Civil War, in 1850, became a status symbol.
And finally, don't we think, honestly, that people back in 1750 or 1780 or whenever were as varied and individualized about their clothing as we are today? I do. They didn't all wear the same things. Yes, advances in dyeing and weaving in later decades made more choices available, and advances in indoor plumbing made washing oneself as well as clothing much easier, and both of these meant that brighter colors, patterns, etc. as well as whites became more usual by the later Victorian period. Wealth and status still drove--and still do-- how many outfits a woman had and what color and what material she could afford to choose for her clothing. But given their individual constraints of money and status don't you think that woman would have tried to have as many outfits of as many types and colors as they could?
So: back lacing. Why not? If a woman could afford a maid, or had a nanny, or even sisters who could help her to dress, why not wear a fashion that was just that much more special? I bet that fact made the wearer, especially if she was not born to wealth, feel particularly grand.
Just like the diatribes I read about front lacing bustier type garments not being worn: I doubt that they were worn by women of, well, of good reputation. But by serving wenches in busy portside taverns who perhaps plied another trade besides serving ale to earn some extra money? Sure: front lacing corset type garments are easy to undo and re-do and their very resemblance to undergarments is titillating--no doubt the reason behind the fashion.
So too, I doubt that back lacing gowns and dresses and corsets were usually worn by women from the working classes and lower classes: they were only worn by ladies who were dressed by someone, i.e., their maid or nanny. With some exceptions, see above.
Why aren't there very many back lacing gowns still around? Who knows? Maybe there were comparatively fewer of them because they were reserved for the elite, and so fewer have come down to us.

I look forward to the summer and swanning around French Azilum in my panniers (I have two types, cage and solid!) wearing my Georgian gowns with their stomachers and high fashion back lace design. I greatly enjoyed my Victorian and Edwardian dresses, gowns and suits, corsets and hats and gloves and fans and reticules...the number of pieces is astounding!
But this morning, as I pulled on my camisole, tied a scarf around my neck and shrugged into my jeans and linen blazer I smiled, because it felt so very easy to be back in the 21st century.