One Pattern to Rule them All: Making a “Jane Eyre” 1840s Dress from Simplicity 3723

One Pattern to rule them all; One Pattern to make them; One Gal to sew them, and with some changes, fake them!

One of the first project goals I ever set for myself way back when I started this blog was to see just how many different eras of dress I could squeeze out of Simplicity 3723.

I made three different ones between 2013 and 2014:

1: Mid-18th Century “Lady’s Maid” Dress
2: Bustle Dress (aka the future Lizzie Borden Costume)
3: Late 1850s-early 1860s “Civil War” Dress

I am a big fan of using something you are familiar/comfortable with as a starting point for creativity. Not everyone likes to dive into a new hobby or project head-first! If you start with something you are familiar with, you can make small tweaks over time, continually refining and changing it, learning along the way. That’s what Simplicity 3723 was for me. You can see the evolution of my sewing skills and styles in just those three dresses. Playing around with this pattern built up my confidence enough for me to branch out into other patterns, testing fit methods, and eventually doing my own (unabashedly reckless) drafting.

Simplicity 3723 is one of the simplest costume patterns that touches on four basic skills: gathering/pleating fabric to fit, attaching a sleeve to an armhole, inserting a zipper, and using darts to make a close fit– plus it’s often insanely cheap! On sale, you can buy a copy for $1-$5 and you can find second hand copies readily. From a historical costuming perspective, it also helps you learn how to wrangle large amounts of fabric in skirts, recognize a few key features of different eras (like collars, stomachers, sleeves), and begin making basic accessories like caps and shawls/fichus.
Though there are four “looks,” there are really only two base dresses: one with a darted bodice (Pilgrim and Prairie) and one with a stomacher/insert bodice (Colonial and Rococo). The more specific “looks” come from little add-ons, like the tall collar for the Prairie vs. the wide white collar for the Pilgrim.

Views A and B both share the same base dress, made from just 5 simple pieces.

Recognizing that, we can take the 2 basic dress types and change up the pieces and accessories to make even more options! Simplicity 3723 makes a great sloper– the sewing term for a basic, fitted pattern that has been personalized to fit your body so you can use it as the base for a variety of styles. These dresses aren’t Historically Accurate. Instead, it is designed to be Historically Inspired and quickly sewn, whether by machine or by hand. However, you can easily tweak the pattern to suit your accuracy, style, or fit preferences.

For example, my pink 18th Century Lady’s Maid dress was only my second costume sewing project– ever. It is far from perfect. I was using whatever vaguely accurate fabrics I could scrounge up. I was still learning the ropes of fitting and historical shapes. But you can see, even with my limited skill and knowledge at the time, I was able to make a presentable 18th century dress. I even sewed the whole thing by hand since I was terrified of sewing by machine. By the time I made my bustle dress version, I knew the construction wasn’t going to be Historically Accurate™, but I had begun to feel confident enough to start exploring with modifications and shapes, like using the polonaise swag pattern from the 18th century dress– View C– as a bustle “overskirt” instead. And for the Civil War dress, I had begun applying some historical techniques, like flatlining, plackets, and adding a hem facing, and I branched into drafting sleeves.

So Simplicity 3723 is a growth-chart of sorts for me. However, I’ve gained weight and moved on to other pattern methods. For 5 years, my (many) copies of Simplicity 3723 had sat mostly unused in my drawer, aside from its perfect one-piece sleeve pattern, which I used for many other dresses.

Before Covid 19 hit, the DFW Costumers Guild had planned on having a Romantic Picnic themed around the 1830s. I have long loved the 1830s! In fact, the fourth dress I had planned to make from Simplicity 3723 back in 2015 was an 1830s version. I just got distracted and never go around to it. However, with Romantic Picnic on the agenda, I decided to revive the idea.

Then the Pandemic hit. I suddenly had tons of free time, but no event or motivation…

However, my mom had also planned on going to the Picnic. It was her first historical dress project. When she asked my opinion on where she should start, I recommended Simplicity 3723, of course! She had sewing experience sewing darts, zippers, and gathering, so I knew that the pattern, while not Historically Accurate would make the process of creating her first Historically Inspired outfit much less stressful. She is much more principled and disciplined at sewing than I am, so she started and finished her dress for the event well in advance, rather than at the midnight-or-later-hour as I am apt to do. And guess what, she knocked it out of the park!

She made View A without the standing collar, which most closely resembles  early-to-mid-19th century styles, specifically the 1840s:

Left: Wool Dress, 1840s, Tasha Tudor Collection via Augusta Auctions
Center: Fashion Plate, April 1846, via The Met Museum
Right: Silk Dress, circa 1844, via Museum at FIT

Sophia Finlay by David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson, 1843-1848

Together with my sister’s green Butterick 5832 dress and my dad’s dapper top hat and vest (plus the fancy crystal-topped walking stick he made), my family was looking darn spiffy in their 1840s outfits!

A few weeks ago, I dug out some tobacco-colored fabric I’d bought on super sale years ago. I have a penchant for ugly brown fabrics, apparently. Anyhoo, it immediately screamed “Jane Eyre” at me.

The 1840s weren’t just calling, they were pounding on the door and standing in the yard with a boombox over their head…

Having gained weight, I had to start my Simplicity 3723 sloper over from scratch. To do this, I used the “half-n-half” method: I measured my front half from side-seam-to-side-seam at the fullest part of my bust. Then I measured the bodice front pattern piece on the tissue and cut the size that most closely matched, in my case, a size 22. Then I measured my back from side-seam-to-side-seam and measured the back bodice pattern piece to match: I used a size 14 because it was the smallest in the envelope I had (12 would have been ideal), but tapered the shoulder line so it matched the bodice front shoulders.

I fit my dress over corset. This is optional, but it vastly improves the historical look, as you can see in both my 18th century and 1850s version of this pattern.

I used thifted sheets to make two mockups until I was comfortable with the fit. It’s still not perfect, but I was itching to get to work on the dress proper.

One of the hallmarks of 1840s dress is either a very long, straight, plain bodice or a floofy, pleated, fan-front bodice like this:

Left and Center: Wool dress, circa 1843 via the Met Museum
Right: Portrait of an Unidentified Woman, circa 1845-50 via LACMA

Because Simplicty 3723 already resembles an 1840s dress, that means we don’t have to do many major changes unless you just like to make your life more difficult for the sake of fanciness…

Me? Attempting to overachieve? Never!

By the time I widened the pattern piece enough to get the fullness over the bust, my front bodice pieces were going to take up a whole yard!

I reeeeeeeally wanted that floofy fan front! But, alas, I tried a few different ways, but in the end, my fabric proved to thick and too scarce to pull it off.

So I resigned myself to just doing a smooth fitted bodice, which was much quicker, easier, and while not super fancy, looked nice. Like I did for my 1850s version of this dress, I turned the back zipper into a front closure. Eventually I’ll get around to installing hooks and eyes properly, but for now, my Jane Eyre dress is closed with tiny straight pins.

But lo and behold, I put on my bodice after merrily sewing it together and discovered it was slightly too large because I accidentally cut double the amount of seam allowance. My solution? Remove the extra width in the front with the world’s tiniest fan-front–just two pleats! Serendipity at its finest!

Inside-out view of my bodice, showing the pleats. You can also see the placket I added and the extra skirt fabric folded over at the waist. This is a period method for attaching a skirt to a pointed bodice. I could trim it off, but if I ever want to let the dress out to be larger, keeping the extra fabric will make it easier. Oddly, I found the American Duchess Guide to 18th Century Dressmaking to be most helpful figuring out how to do this, despite my dress being a full 100 years later in date. Here is an example of a one-piece early Victorian dress with the extra skirt material folded down around the point. Simplicity 3723 accounts for a small point in its skirt pattern already, if you decide to use the skirt pattern they provide rather than a rectangle panel like I did.

To make the pleats, I literally just stood in front of my filthy bathroom mirror armed with a teacup full of pins and got to folding. Then I top-stitched the pleats down to make them stay.

The shallow V neckline and two simple rows of ruffles on the sleeves compensate for my rather plain bodice. Both things were stylish in the 1840s and both are simple additions to the basic 3723 pattern. Just trim the rounded neckline of the pattern into a V shape and for the ruffles, I cut four strips of fabric (two for each sleeve), hemmed one edge, and gathered them before sewing them to the sleeve while it was flat.

PRO-TIP: Trim your sleeves while they are flat! It’s sooooo much easier than trying to trim one once it’s sewn into a tube. Trust me!

For skirts, I always prefer to use one long panel rather than the multiple cuts Simplicity recommends. It happens that most 42-44″ cottons are just about right for a skirt length on me, plus using the selvedges at the waist and hem really cuts down on fraying!

NOT-A-PRO-BY-ANY-STRETCH TIP: In a time crunch or just lazy like me? Use the selvedge edge as your hem! If you selvedge is white/printed with color testing rather than being edge-to-edge printed with the fabric pattern, you can turn it up and do a little 5/8″ hem or add a facing. Another trick I’ve used before is utilizing the hemmed edge of a sheet at the bottom edge of the skirt!

I pleated rather than gathered the skirt into the waist. I used a piece of fabric 112 inches long and gathering that much is too tedious. Pleating is fiddly, but faster for moi. Plus, I like pleats in general.

I intended to do a slash placket like I did for my 1850s version, but I was a dum-dum and got so excited about my pleats that I didn’t realize I’d put the skirt seam up the front instead of the back…

PROFESSIONAL-AMATEUR TIP: A small, busy print helps hide seams and little mistakes. If you’re new to historical sewing, take a few minutes to look at Pinterest (I made a small board with examples) or a museum collection website like the Met Museum to familiarize yourself with the fabric colors and patterns popular in the era you want to wear. Some costuming folks look down on the quilting calicos, but let me tell ya, those fabrics have been an absolute joy for me to sew with: easy to find, easy to clean, easy to assemble, easy to hide mistakes with. Seriously, a nice, small repeating floral on a colored background is impeccable for this pattern.

Thanks to the busy print and the pleating, it’s hardly an issue. Crisis avoided!

Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Seriously. Victorian costumes in particular are surprisingly forgiving. Wonky seam? Just add some fancy trim. Weird neckline fit? Cover it with some lace or a big ribbon bow. Fabric has a smudge because the Entenmann’s chocolate-dipped donuts were on sale? A brooch lives there now! Mistakes are opportunities for creativity, whether design choices or choice words.

Besides dog-ear hairdos, tunnel-vision bonnets, and fancy pleating, a classic bit of 1840s fashion is the pelerine. An 1840s pelerine is like a little cape/shawl/collar made out of the same fabric as the dress. They were used both for warmth and to protect the shoulders from the sun during the early part of the decade when off-the-shoulder and wide boat necklines were popular.

Right to Left: Via Augusta Auctions, via Pinterest, via the John Bright Collection, via Pinterest

Looking at the 3723 “Pilgrim,” I couldn’t help but notice how her oversized collar resembled a little pelerine….so I pieced together the last few little scraps of my fabric to make one!

I didn’t have enough of the antique grey ribbon to use on the pelerine, so to jazz it up, I used antique tape lace collar had been languishing in a drawer since 2014 when I bought it to put on my 1850s version of 3723. It was the wrong length to fit that dress, but fit the neckline of the pelerine/collar perfectly.

So here is my final 1840s Jane Eyre/Mrs. Bates look!

I decided I needed some last-minute lappets, so I just slapped some chunky lace on my head like a Victorian Unfortunate Biggins. Ain’t I gorgeous?

Yes, I am.

(And I’m not the only one!)
(Though, honestly, this crochet cap with chenille dangles is pretty baller)

I also owe a huge thanks to both American Duchess and Mistress of Disguise aka ClusterFrock. In addition to my corset, I am also wearing two petticoats — an Ugly Puffer based on Lauren’s blog post here and a wonderfully ruffled cotton petticoat made by Megan— that absolutely help transform this dress from sad flat frump to sassy plump frump!

Ugly Puffers also make fantastic scarves.

If you’ve been a fan of the Simplicity 3723 series, thanks for your continuing support. One of the highlights of my life is when I get a comment or message from someone who saw a project on my blog and felt inspired to give it a try! Now that I have updated my measurements and have a new 3723 sloper, I hope to pick the series back up, finally completing the projects I had planned 6 years ago.

Better late than never! Stay tuned!

Note: This pattern is available under a couple of different names, including Simplicity 3723 (standard misses’ sizes), Simplicity 3725 (girls’ sizes), Simplicity 2354 (extended misses’ sizes, OOP), Print On Demand EA235401 (extended misses’ sizes), and It’s So Easy H0113 / S0321 / S0705 (Pilgrim and Prairie only, in girls and standard misses, OOP). The pattern pieces are similar across all these patterns, so and tweaks I make should be possible regardless of the pattern number you are working with.

Find of the Month: Gentleman’s Black Silk Stock Collar circa 1840-1844

July 2016

I always seem to write these “Find of the Month” posts when I have otherwise been highly neglectful of this poor blog! I have been working longer hours over the summer which has left little time for costume projects, but has given me a little extra money. For a weekend treat, Christopher took me to a new antique store we’d been trying to visit for a year now: Maine Barn and Attic Antiques on Highway 199 outside of Azle. The only catch is that Christopher and I both work on Saturdays — the only day the shop is open! We finally got to visit and it was WONDERFUL!

Inside is a dreamland. It’s the classic antique store I remember from my childhood before “antique stores” became expensive craft and clothing boutiques with a few overpriced knicknacks scattered about. I have nothing against craftshops or boutiques, but nothing beats a smorgasbord of true antique finds in the rough– dusty, weathered, and crammed in every corner! The Maine Barn and Attic is huge and is packed floor to ceiling with everything imaginable, even a not-so-shiny-but-very-romantic little surrey with the fringe on the top. I wish I’d gotten some interior pictures, but I was so engrossed, I forgot. The place is THAT GOOD. They do have a Facebook page.

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The prices were all very reasonable and the variety of goods endless. However, they only take cash or check– no credit cards! I did not know that, so I had amassed a small pile before I realized that I didn’t have a lick of cash on me. The proprietors kindly offered to hold my pile (“Happens all the time”) and I returned the following week to pick up treasures…and then some.

In the darkest corner of the shop, I was ecstatic to exhume one piece in particular: a black silk stock collar!

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I found it folded like this in a plastic bin filled with crumbling beaded trim and ric-rac. I literally “squeed” out loud and clutched it to my chest. 

Stocks are such a fascinating piece of clothing. Men had been wearing tall, stiff collars in various forms for centuries, but early 19th century stocks are a very distinctive garment. A brother of the cravat and jabot, stocks are high collars made in one piece, frequently stiffened with horsehair or boning to keep them standing tall. A stock accentuates a man’s neck’s length and *ahem* girth, swathing his face to the jaw and sometimes even to the cheeks! They were common in military uniforms, always a source of inspiration for civilian fashion, and were further popularized by King George the IV, the foremost dandy of the time:

Portrait Miniature of King George the IV by Johann Paul Georg Fischer, circa 1815

Some say that George wore them to distract from his chubby face (he was frequently lampooned for a being a larger fellow), but stock collars also helped military officers and civilians alike maintain a ramrod straight posture, projecting strength and control with a dash of mystique. Usually thought of as a Romantic Era (1825-1840) item, stocks were widely worn into the 1850s until fashions shifted to a more boxy, relaxed day look for men.
The stock I stumbled upon at Maine Barn and Attic Antiques is made of very lustrous black silk with a very stiffly starched linen collar basted inside.

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The stock is 15 inches long not including the tab and is 4 inches tall at the center, 5 inches if you include the linen collar.

The edges close with a three-pronged steel buckle. The prongs of the buckle are very sharp, designed to pierce directly through the fabric tab rather than to fit through pre-made eyelets.

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When I first saw the stock, I was struck by just how tall it is! I wouldn’t say I have a long neck, but I don’t have a stumpy one either. This collar would not fit me comfortably no matter how good my posture is! A gentleman would have to hold his chin tilted quite high in order to accommodate it.

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When you look at the stock laid out, it has a very definite taper. It is wider in the center and smaller at the buckled ends. It would seem, then, that for comfort and ease of dressing, a gentlemen would wear it buckled in front so that the narrower end would tuck under his chin, like this:

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However, this does not seem to be the case. Many extant stocks have both a buckle behind and a decorative bow to adorn the front:

Silk Wedding Stock, circa 1835

Black Silk Stock with long ties, circa 1820

While mine lacks the decorative tie in front, it is shaped the same and is probably designed to buckle in back like so:

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You can see the graceful curve in the center. It’s not boned, but the horsehair/canvas interlining is plenty stiff to keep the shape. The collar inside has what appear to be decorative pressed folds (though they may just be from how it was stored).

The stock forces the wearer to tilt his chin up in a rather proud posture, very different from the modern slumped posture we’ve adopted with our chins tucked back and down. Such tall stocks are usually found in paintings and fashion illustrations from the earlier decades of the 19th century, from about 1810 to 1835.

David Lyon by Thomas Lawrence, circa 1825

Men in Tailcoats and Top Hats (french), circa 1830-34
Cravats and stocks create similar looks. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell in drawings and early photos which is which, but they could be worn together as well.

Portrait Miniature of a Gentleman by John Wood Dodge, circa 1833
For a lovely collection of late Georgian fashion plates showcasing some impressive neckwear, click here.

 Stocks were considered one of the many accessories needed to be a well-dressed respectable gentleman, but the garment also features prominently in satirical cartoons poking fun at the ever-flamboyant dandy whose fashion faux pas often included preposterous proportions and pretentious postures aided by hyperbolic stocks long enough to make a giraffe uncomfortable:

“An Exquisite” Satirical Cartoon of a Dandy from around 1820

Thanks to its size and styling, I thought for certain I had a Georgian stock from around 1825-1835 in my possession. However, when I folded it open and took a closer look, I discovered some damning–albeit awesome–proof that my stock isn’t as old as I originally thought.

The inside is in rough, but not terrible, shape. The collar is still papery crisp from the last time it was starched all those years ago. It is mounted on a neckband that has a pointed dip in the center to somewhat follow the lines of the stock.

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Other than the large basting stitches holding the linen collar on (which are kind of sloppy even for basting. One basting stitch even nipped through the black outer silk. If you look close at the pics of the outside, you might see the tiny white blip) everything is hand sewn with absolutely beautiful, tiny stitches.
Here’s one of my cheap, slightly bent hand needles looking absolutely vulgar next to the dainty stitches that hold the silk lining to the leather piping along the top edge of the stock:

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19 stitches per inch– yes, I counted!

The tiny stitches, beautiful as they are, have split along the bottom edge, giving us a tantalizing glimpse of the pad stitching inside! Once again, the stitches are dense and small enough to make a fairy cry:

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Compare the stitches to the tiny fashion magazine print on the left—each stitch is barely the height of an i!

Inked under the linen collar are a few odd markings, perhaps laundry or ownership marks? They are done in blue ink which has blotted a bit:

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I also discovered the greatest gift any random antique object can possibly give: The original maker’s stamp, clear as day, fabulously green, and perfect!

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“Ward Manufacturer. No. 116 North Fifth Street. Philadelphia. & No. 40 North 4th”

I HAD to look the company up! And I found…..a modern pipe fittings company that started in 1924. Hint: this stock is far older than that.
But the Wards Manufacturer that made my stock did me a huge favor: they included not one, but two addresses in their stamp! So, where would a gentleman need to go in order to buy this stock?
I looked up both addresses and quickly realized that this stock was going to push me down a deeper rabbit hole than I had anticipated.

As it turns out, the old part of North 5th street has been renamed Independence Mall East. You can search for the address in google maps, but it is now part of Independence Mall– mere blocks from Independence Hall and right across from the Philadelphia Mint! The shop is now a parking lot; the building was destroyed in the 1950s to clear the land for Independence Mall. 40 North 4th was also lost to time; it is now near a modern office building.

116 and 40 in the same picture modern day

Approximate Locations of 116 North 5th and 40 North 4th in the modern world. Neither of these addresses belong to buildings anymore, so Google only offers approximations.

I refused to resign myself to this unsatisfactory answer. Greater Philadelphia GeoHistory Network to the rescue! I found this amazing research website through this “How to Research the History of a House” packet. The GeoHistory Network website is chock-full of amazing features for anyone wanting to research historic Philadelphia.
The most fascinating tool is the Interactive Map Viewer which allows you to view, at full scale, antique maps overlayed over modern Google Maps, so you can find exactly where something was even if that street or building doesn’t exist anymore! And guess what: I found 116 North 5th street!

116 north 5th street philadelphia penn 1875

The most detailed map is the 1875 Atlas map, which even has some lots and businesses labelled. Here, you can see 116 (labelled with only a 16) across from Appletree Alley/Lane, a street which once ran where the Philadelphia Mint is now.

116 north 5th street philadelphia penn 1858

1858 Map of Philadelphia is the earliest map with clearly marked building numbers, proving that 116 N. 5th existed back to at least 1858 in the same location.

These maps don’t have “street view” like Google Maps, but I learned that William H. Rease, a Philadelphia lithographer, did a series of illustrations in the 1840s and 1850s of local businesses. He didn’t makes an illustration of Ward’s shops specifically (darn). However, he did do an illustration of the businesses mere steps away at the corner of N. 5th and Market Streets:

Detailed view of “Bennett & Company, Tower Hall Clothing Bazaar, Number 182 Market Street, between Fifth and Sixth Streets, Philadelphia” circa 1853
There’s also a great vintage photograph of this same section taken in 1949. These buildings were also leveled in the Independence Mall project.

I also found 40 North 4th which, despite playing second fiddle, turned out to be the key to dating my silk stock! Here it is on the 1875 and 1858 maps:

40 north fourth street 40 north fourth street 1858

Unlike 116 N. 5th, the 4th street address is labeled with a name on nearly every map: It’s the Merchant’s Hotel!

“Merchant’s Hotel, Number 38, North Fourth Street, Philadelphia” circa 1838

The Merchant Hotel was built in 1837. On the bottom floor were spaces rented out for shops. It was not demolished in the  Independence Mall project, but burned in 1966, so it’s no longer with us either.
Street numbering in Philadelphia was changed a few times throughout its history. So the 1830s illustration above shows shop #38 on the right while the 1857 illustration below shows a different set of numbers:

40 N. 4th street was either in or right next to the hotel, depending on the street numbering that year. No one said doing research was easy!

Since the Merchant’s Hotel wasn’t built until 1837/38, my stock could be no older than that.

The GeoHistory website had another tool to share with me: a digital library of City Directories dating all the way back to 1785! City Directories were the phone book in an era before phones. It listed every tradesperson, their occupation, and their shop’s address. I dove into the directories starting at 1837 and I emerged triumphant!

Ward’s Manufacturing, as it turns out, was owned by one George W. Ward whose business life is chronicled by the annual city directories of the late 1830s to the 1850s:

1837 phil bis directory ward dry goods1837: His first appearance at the address listed on my stock, 116 N. 5th Street. He is listed as a general dry goods seller.

1839 phil bis directory ward stocks1839: George W. Ward decides to specialize in manufacturing gentleman’s stocks. Philadelphia had a large garment manufacturing industry and there were a few other stock makers/manufacturers in the area besides Mr. Ward. 116 North 5th Street placed him right in the midst of the bustling shopping district.

1840 phil bis directory ward stocks1840: He’s still there! Merrily manufacturing stocks on N. 5th Street.

1841 phil bis directory ward stocks both addresses1841: BINGO! Mr. Ward expands his stock manufacturing business to a shop in the Merchant’s Hotel. This is the first year that both addresses are listed in the directory as they appear in the stamp on my stock.

1842 phil bis directory ward stocks both addresses1842: Putting his stock in stocks!

1843 phil bis directory ward stocks both addresses1843: Ditto.

1844 phil bis directory ward stocks both addresses1844: Still merrily manufacturing stocks!

1845 phil bis directory ward gents furnishings1845: Mr. George W. Ward is no longer making stocks, but moves shop to #38 (from the engraving above!) and decides to go back to the dry goods he sold before, but this time with a specific, posh clientele in mind. “Furnishing” in this case is not furniture for a room, but men’s clothing and accessories. As a gentleman’s furnisher, he would have still sold stocks, but he likely outsourced production to a different stockmaker.

An advertisement for a Victorian furnishing store. Mr. Ward’s shop would have sold similar items.

George W. Ward was a very active man, constantly evolving and moving his business, even starting a short-lived weekly newspaper called the “Sunday Ledger” around 1850:

History of Philadelphia, 1609-1884 george w ward newspaper 1848

Mr. Ward certainly liked to stay busy!

From all this, I know that my stock must have been made between about 1840 and 1845. Less Mr. Darcy and more Charles Dickens, but still very exciting!

Charles Dickens by William Powell Frith, circa 1859

1840s Fashion Plate showing three fashionable gentlemen.

Black Silk Stock, circa 1840

Portrait of Michael Faraday by Antoine Claudet

Daguerreotype of the cutest 1840s couple ever!
If you love daguerreotypes or early Victorian fashion, you’ll love this site: Archive of Fine Daguerreotypes

Even though Mr. George W. Ward’s company only made stocks for about 5 years, the stocks they produced were very well designed. Ward Manufacturing’s stocks even earned a commendation for their quality in the Franklin Institute’s 13th Exhibition of American Manufactures in 1843:

Journal of The Franklin Institute 1843 ward stocks

You’ll notice there are a few other quality stock manufacturers in Philadelphia at the same time, so he might have run in to some fierce competition that prompted him to diversify.

I’m no expert on 19th century stocks, yet I can instantly feel how well-made mine is. I mean, it has survived for over 150 years in very good shape! I am so happy to have found it– and at $9.50, it was an excellent bargain!

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Though that stray little basting stitch is slowly driving me batty! :P