Miss Peacocke, With the Needle, in the Classroom

Sewing instruction manual belonging to Miss Peacocke, 1832. She conquered Sleeve Gussets for a Shift.

Tutorials aren’t usually a feature of this plain sewing blog, but I set out the steps for someone who needed help with sleeve gussets, and thought I’d share for anyone who flirts with insanity when inserting them for dolls or costume. I like pictures in sequence best – except maybe when assembling anything from Ikea!

A gusset is a little piece of fabric inserted to reinforce or to increase the ease of movement in garments like shirts and shifts – you can see in the pictures how it gives more room under the arm. They were used up until mid-19th-century-ish when fashion, fitted patterns, and sewing machines made them pretty much obsolete, though some sewing classes included directions for small ones at garment openings into the 20th century.

Plain sewing projects might include a sample sleeve gusset, because they used basic stitches like hemming, felling, and sewing/seaming1. A miniature size was practical, saving both time and material; the ones pictured here were pasted in books meant as guides for sewing teachers.

Closeup look at another specimen. It’s also been hemmed on the side that would be inserted into the body of the garment, but that’s only for extra hemming practice and tidiness of the specimen.

So just how hard can it be to sew straight seams on a little square? Well, if you want all the edges to be neatly enclosed, lie flat, and the right size when finished, it can be a pain in the armpit! The following sequence shows the “sew-and-fell” method, replicating the miniature specimens above. I’ve seen other methods – and I have some examples – but this one set the standard for fine needlework.

Note: In 19th century manuals, the deeper double fold for felling was always completed before any sewing was done. See pics Fig. 50 and 51 here. That’s difficult to illustrate in a photo sequence, so I’ve made the second fold after the seaming is done. I’ve used a coarse cotton printed on one side, contrasting thread, and big stitches (ha!) so that it’s easier to see.

Above: The sleeve piece is on the left, the gusset on the top right, and a finished gusseted sleeve on the bottom right.
Above: Fold the sleeve edge down to the desired width of the seam. Crease the gusset diagonally and then fold it down twice as deep as the sleeve.
Above: Place the sleeve and gusset wrong sides together and then seam together, stopping just short of the end, since that side will be folded next.
Above: This is the same step as above, viewed from the side. You can see that the gusset side fold is twice as deep as the sleeve side fold. (It should already be folded back again, ready for felling, if you want to do it exactly as they taught it.)
Above: Fold/fell the gusset edge down over the sleeve edge. WARNING: OPTICAL ILLUSION! Sometimes the gusset crease in this photo appears to be folded back onto the right side instead of forward onto the wrong side. It’s all in how your eye first perceives the image. It’s actually folding forward toward the needle.
Above: Next, fold the adjoining edge of the gusset – this time it’s the gusset’s turn to be the narrower fold! (You can see why the stitching wasn’t taken all the way to the edge earlier.) Fold the bottom edge of the sleeve twice as deep. Then with a little twist, bring corner A down to meet corner B, fold to fold.
Above: Now seam the gusset and sleeve together, and keep on going past the end of the gusset, seaming the rest of the sleeve together.
Above: A view of the inside, looking up into the sleeve from the gusset opening, before the sleeve edge is felled down over the gusset edge.
Finally, fell the sleeve edge over the gusset and keep on going, all the way to the end of the sleeve. This photo is peeking inside the sleeve, to give perspective. Of course when you’re actually SEWING it, you’ll need to turn the sleeve inside out!

The author of The Workwoman’s Guide (1838) may have been a little impatient with gusseting herself. She suggests simply hemming the gusset evenly all around, hemming the sleeve where it will be inserted, and then seaming the two together. I’ve done that myself! As long as the work is neat….

Gussets – Much depends upon the nicety of the putting in and finishing off, but when well accomplished they have a peculiar charm to a good needlewoman.

Personally, I find peculiar charm in just finishing one with my good humor intact. I’ll save the appreciation of niceties for those glorious gussets worked long ago.

1 Terms used for stitches differ according to time and place. The stitch I’m referring to here, a very shallow overcasting used to “butt” two pieces of fabric together, was called seaming or sewing. The term sewing was more common in the first part of the 19th century in English and Irish manuals. Seaming was more popular later. There are no early American sewing manuals, but in the U.S. over-and-over stitch was frequently used by mid-century and then overhanding was popular later (as distinct from overcasting which was a wider stitch used to prevent edge raveling). I usually call the stitch seaming because calling it sewing would be really confusing (even more than this footnote!) and over-and-over stitch is too wordy to verbify!

7 thoughts on “Miss Peacocke, With the Needle, in the Classroom

    1. Thank you! Yep, terms can be so different and it really doesn’t matter what something’s called as long as long as the referent is understood. That’s why it’s sooo wonderful to have a labeled sample or illustration to go with really old text!

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a reply to TextileRanger Cancel reply