I’ve finished Alice McAnnally’s bonnet!
My lovely reader Emma commented on that previous post with loads of additional information about Alice: she was apparently born in Louth in 1809, and convicted of robbing a person. She worked as a housemaid and washerwoman, and may have married a man named Manville.
The convict women of the Elizabeth were held in Cork before they sailed in 1827, and had a pretty difficult time, according to this account on ancestry.com.
(Emma, I’d love to know more about how you found these details – they are fascinating!)
When I sat down to trace the bonnet pattern – which I’d picked up from a fellow Irish Patchwork Society member – I was thinking very much about being thrown on my own resources – a thing I’ve experienced only rarely in my privileged, sheltered life. Arguably never, in fact: I’ve always had some kind of safety net.
Unlike Alice, who was 18 or 19 when she was deported.
That’s what I was thinking about, so I used what I had to hand. The fabric for the bonnet was part of a sheet from my great-aunt Maureen’s house – her initials were stem-stitched in one corner some time in the last century. (The sheet is almost all gone now: most of it turned into ghost costumes for the boys last Hallowe’en.)
I handstitched the bonnet, which was the first time I’d done that in maybe twenty-five years. It was actually lovely to rediscover the rhythm of a running-stitched seam – all soothing and silent.
I find the gathered crown piece very pleasing, for some reason!
Before attaching the brim, I wrote the names and date, and drew a very approximate rose. This is where I wish I’d winged it slightly less – I don’t much like the rose. The stem is far too thick, and the petals are wonky.
I was drawing straight onto the fabric with a rather hard pencil, which caused some distortion. If I’d played with the design on paper until I was happy with it, I could have traced it more easily afterwards. Lesson learned.
At least it looks like a rose, which is good, as this bonnet is made for Christina Henri’s Roses from the Heart project. I’m not unpicking it, at any rate! And I did very much enjoy chain-stitching the petals and leaves – I love tiny chain-stitch.
The long ribbon ties were made of strips cut from the sheet’s selvedge, folded over twice and stitched through all three thicknesses. This is where I nearly gave up on the handsewing: selvedge is tough stuff! I left the piece in the kitchen, and every time I went past, I picked it up and did an inch or two. Took me a few days, but I got there in the end.
Now, I need to send the bonnet to the woman who’s co-ordinating our branch’s effort. I gather Christina Henri, the artist responsible for this project, will be in Ireland in September, so you may not have heard the last of this project here on String Revolution.
I was so impressed to see Emma’s comment, it makes the bonnet so much more interesting.
That’s wonderful, Lean. The convict women are among the most documented of early nineteenth century women because they were under government control, and so their every blanket, dress, shoe, ration and so on were written down in some ledger or other. A lot of these resources are now being digitised and made searchable — State Records of NSW has a lot of information about searching for convict records. NSW Births Deaths and Marriages are online for the period, but I couldn’t find a marriage or a death for anyone called Alice McAnnally, or Alice Manville, so she must have moved from NSW before she died. Maybe she even got herself home — some of them did. She might have gone to one of the other colonies — she would still have been a strong middle aged woman when gold was discovered in Victoria and lots of people moved then. My own convict ancestor, Ann Glossop, was convicted in Monmouthshire in the 1780s and sent to Sydney in the First Fleet. She died when the ship she was going home to England on was attacked by Maoris in reprisal for the mistreatment they’d received from the British in New Zealand, but her daughter survived and was rescued. It’s a great story.
You are a very talented lady!
The bonnet has inspired me to see if my mother and I can make one for Ann Glossop. Thanks.
That’s quite cool. Once upon a time I found a transfer pencil where you can draw something and then iron it on!
Turns out my aunt has already made one for Ann Glossop. There you are, Lean, you didn’t even know you were in a cooperative venture with my aunt in rural NSW, did you? I love the Internet.
While I agree the stem is too thick for modern sensibilities, I don’t think it’s wrong for the time. And it’s perfectly fine from a distance.
Hi Lean
Sorry, this isn’t relevant to your post, feel free to not publish this comment, but something very strange is happening with your blog and Google Reader/RSS feed. I’m following you via RSS (having found you through the $100 biz forum), but suddenly somebody else’s blog posts are turning up in the RSS feed – their url is http://livingsavvy.com.au. Some glitch somewhere along the line, or have you guys got a collaboration going? Just thought I better let you know. Best wishes, Katie
I’ve had the same weird glitch with comments in Google Reader. They don’t show up in the raw RSS feed though, just when I get it via Google.
@Katie and Ailbhe: thanks for letting me know! I never usually check my RSS feed, so I might never have noticed. I changed Web hosts this week, and there was a copying error.
It got fixed after about 10 minutes, but in that time the industrious Google crawler had been by. It should sort itself out now.
Do not adjust your set
This is beautiful work, Léan, and meaningful in so many ways! I love it.
Guys, I love these comments!
@Emma: Your ancestor’s story is fascinating – and I love that I’ve been unwittingly collaborating with your aunt in rural NSW! I’m really drawn to the history of Australia and New Zealand (I came within a hair’s breadth of doing a PhD in NZ fiction). Thanks so much for enriching these posts with your knowledge.
@L Clare, @Josiane: Thank you! I’m really pleased to have done this.
@Deirdre: I have one of those pencils, buried somewhere among my disorganised supplies! I must fish it out.
@Mollydot: You’re probably right. Let’s say you’re right. Yes.