Back to my Salem singlewomen shopkeepers and businesswomen: they continue to be my favorite subjects among these #SalemSuffrageSaturday posts. Socialites, authors and artists: too easy! I came across one of the most stunning nineteenth-century photographs I have ever seen: of Miss Eliza P. Punchard, dressed formally in black bombazine, in front of Ann. R. Bray’s dry goods store at 76 Federal Street circa 1875. The picture was taken by the very accomplished Salem photographer Edwin Peabody, and it is in the collection of the Peabody Essex Museum, although you will never find it on the PEM’s impenetrable and unhelpful website: I make most of my PEM discoveries through old publications of either of its founding institutions, the Peabody Museum and the Essex Institute. In this case, the photograph was published in Museum Collections of the Essex Institute, published in 1978. It may seem like an old-fashioned way to access a museum’s collections in 2020, but believe me, such publications are your best bet for now.
This photograph is so compelling, so sharp, so curious! Miss Punchard is not posing formally, yet she looks very formal! Her cheekbones! A literal window into a shop full of fabrics! I want to see more of the sign! So what’s the story?
Miss Eliza P. Punchard and Miss Ann R. Bray worked together in the dry goods business but they were not business partners: the former was always listed as clerk in the census and directory records while the latter was clearly the shopowner. They were, however, friends and perhaps life partners: after leaving bequests to a score of nieces and nephews in her native Gloucester, Miss Bray left the bulk of her estate, and her shop, to Miss Punchard in her 1875 will: I can only assume that this photograph marks Miss Punchard’s succession to the well-established Bray business: and is she wearing mourning? Miss Bray’s will implies that they were very close but I can’t presume anything more than that—although again, they lived together and alone (except for a succession of servant girls, several from Maine and several from Ireland) for more than three decades: every time they needed a new servant Miss Bray advertised for help in “a household of two”. Following Miss Bray’s death in 1875, Miss Punchard ran the shop until her retirement in 1886; she died three years later. And that was the end of a seemingly-successful woman-owned business in Salem, one of many: I am sure I am just scratching the surface with these posts. The Bray business had a long run, from around 1821 at least, when Miss Bray began advertising her services as a tailoress in Salem: not a seamstress mind you, but a tailoress. The “trimmings”took over and she moved into dry goods dealing from a variety of Federal Street locales: ending up at #76.
Advertisements in the Salem Gazette and Register, 1821-1853: Cambric and Bombazine dresses from MoMu: Fashion Museum Antwerp and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Miss Bray was an enthusiastic advertiser in the Salem Gazette, Register and Observer and even the Wizard of South Danvers (now Peabody) and her stock got larger and more exotic as her business expanded: she offered gingham from the beginning to the end (and you can see it in the photograph of Miss Punchard) but added many other fabrics and frills from the 1840s on. I’m familiar with lots of things (merino, tartan, worsted, muslin and linen), but clueless about others: what in the world are “Russian Diapers” and “Circassian Bombazettes”? From some fashion historian crowdsourcing, I did learn that “Quaker Skirts” were a lightweight hoop, and Miss Bray offered other hoops as well, including the “Watch Spring” and “Bon Ton” varieties, and all manner of petticoats, including the popular Balmoral Skirt inspired by Queen Victoria. BUT there is definitely a patriotic shift during the Civil War: towards simpler fabrics, manufactured domestically. Mourning wear, unfortunately, was always in demand.After the war Miss Bray returned to her vast array of fabrics and accessories, and even included pianofortes in her stock! Just brief glimpses into two women’s lives in Salem: their public roles are somewhat revealed while their private world remains just so.
Salem Register, January & July 1862; South Peabody Wizard, January 1869; Newburyport Daily Herald, November 1886.
August 1st, 2020 at 7:19 am
Enjoyed this, including the ‘pubic roles’! Not the first time I’ve seen a typo like that.
August 1st, 2020 at 7:32 am
oh no! Thanks for the heads up. They’ll have to read about it in your comment!
August 1st, 2020 at 7:34 am
Early morning pre-coffee blogging: dangerous!
August 1st, 2020 at 11:58 am
Great story of those two old gals. Together in business and in life. I always enjoy reading over those old advertisements too.
That’s a great pic of Miss Punchard, I agree. Interesting that Almy’s disposed of the remaining inventory after her demise.
August 1st, 2020 at 12:23 pm
According to a site called Lexico dot com which draws on the OED, “Russian diaper” is “A coarse linen damask produced in Russia, frequently in a diaper pattern (based on diamond or lozenge shapes).” It says the term first appeared in the early 19th c.
It’s hard to judge from your image, but is it possible that “Circassian” and “Bombazettes” are not conjoined, but part of a list? Because I’ve found the two terms repeatedly in several lists, as if they describe two kinds of somewhat related fabrics?
August 1st, 2020 at 8:53 pm
Well there you are! Do you know–I have a subscription to the digital OED, and consult it regularly for my academic work, but never think to research modern American English there–I’m really missing out!
August 2nd, 2020 at 4:55 am
Sometimes it’s just serendipity. I tracked down an online dictionary of Scots to help read some 17th century witchcraft confessions, and in the process was able to verify the origin of some strange words in my Ulster-Scots grandmother’s vocabulary!
August 1st, 2020 at 12:32 pm
I think that printed word reads “Drapers”, not “Diapers”. Drapers, as you know, are cloth and dry good merchants, as was Miss Bray. My wife, from Russia, used many diapers on our daughter many years ago, but knows nothing of a Russian variety!
August 1st, 2020 at 8:50 pm
Thanks Terry—I know, that certainly makes more sense as a phrase, but it still doesn’t work in context–and as it is used as an advertising term, one assumes that it would have some public resonance, which is even more perplexing!
August 3rd, 2020 at 1:15 pm
I stand corrected by the previous post. I do remember an old friend telling me that the sails of USS Constitution were originally from duck cloth imported from Russia as it was for other US ships in late 18th & early 19th centuries. Perhaps the so called Russian Diapers were cut from the same cloth, so to speak!
August 4th, 2020 at 5:27 am
Well that’s an interesting idea–and connection!
August 8th, 2020 at 2:05 pm
As a needleworker, my first thought was that Russia diaper refers to the type of weave, especially when that term is next followed by linen damask.
August 8th, 2020 at 2:39 pm