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.