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Linen: The Wonder of Touching History

 

Linen: The Warp and Weft of History.


Jay Wilkinson, April 2025

jewilkinsoniii@gmail --- jwwrote.blogspot.com



“Show me that you’ve been working over, Christina.” He leaned forward in the 

rocker and touched the square of linen. His speech sounded of his Silesian birthplace. 

His granddaughter pulled the piece away from the loom, carefully to keep the threads 

aligned and untangled.

 

He rubbed the cloth between thumb and forefinger and remarked: “Very vell done! 

The tight weave will last a lifetime.”


“It's my first one, I want it to be right so I don’t forget, poppa. You know I sowed the 

the flax seeds, weeded the field, pulled the plants, laid them out, soaked them, broke 

and stripped the threads out, carded out the seeds and such.”


“Yes, under your muter’s supervision and with Nana’s spinning help. You’ve done 

a wonderful job. Talented nine year old, you are.”



I am touching this fabric as I write. Did my fifth great-grandfather,Christopher Yeakel, touch 

this too? His granddaughter, my third great grandmother, Christina Yeakel Schultz, created it.  

Christina was ten when he died at 85 years of age in 1800. It is possible. I know she’s touched 

me.


I imagine such a conversation between them. She was born in 1790 in Pennsyvania and he lived 

until 1800.  He was one of the Schwenkfelder exiles who landed in Philadelphia from The 

Netherlands in 1734, driven out of their Silesian homeland by both Catholic and Lutheran 

oppression and violence. Aged just nineteen, he and 130 others settled in the region surrounding 

Philadelphia, reestablishing themselves as farmers. A number of these immigrants were also 

noted to be weavers on the passenger list of their ship, the St. Andrew.


The folded cloth fits loosely in a handmade, cloth-covered wooden box with handmade metal 

fastening.



Sewn with long loops onto the hem of this cloth is a note written to my grandmother, Gertrude, 

and her sister: “Presented to Gertie and Nellie Schultz by their Aunt Levina Schneider. This 

material was woven by their Great Grandmother Schultz.”


It is not clear who wrote this as our genealogy records show “Lovina Schultz Snyder” as being 

their aunt.





My grandmother passed it to my dad and he to me. I am preparing to pass it along to our 

granddaughter.


This again is a section of that plain, very tightly woven, very precious cloth.



I don’t know exactly how our piece was woven. Was it using something like this?:





Here is a wonderful video showing how flax is grown and hand-processed into linen:

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFuj7sXVnIU Linseed oil is made from flax.


I am guessing Christina wove for home use, though an expert writes that rural Pennsylvania

women spun yarn for a small group of trained male artisans who wove cloth for commerce. 

Adrienne D. Hood, The Weaver’s Craft: Cloth, Commerce, and Industry in Early Pennsylvania. 

Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003


We have maternal lineage running to work in the infernal mills of New England. Here’s some 

research on early commercial weaving businesses. “Resident weaver” means persons living on 

company premises and weaving cloth for the company on a piece work contract.


One resident weaver's contract has survived. On September 17, 1811, investors wrote about 

an agreement with Thomas Brand:


Sir, we have engaged Thomas Brand to go to Blackstone to weave 9/8 checks at nine cents full 

yard of full width number twelve warp and find him our looms and use of warping tools. He 

finding reed and harness, brushes and sizing and doing all the work of spooling, quilling, 

warping, etc." 

 

While the document is specific in describing the kind of cloth, the equipment and the services 

Brand must supply, it does not specify the amount of cloth or the tenure of the contract.


And concerning “outwork”, weaving in scattered, usually rural, homes, research shows 

something entirely unsurprising.


Despite the seasonal nature of agricultural employment, it is unlikely that the farmers 

them-selves took in outwork, as records indicate a consistent level of fabric production 

throughout the year. These factors all contribute to the assumption that the names listed 

in the cloth accounts are not necessarily the names of the people who actually wove and 

that the names in the weaving ledgers often hide the work of women. That women rather

 than men were weavers is suggested by both contemporary accounts and mill 

advertisements.


Mohanty, G. F. (1989). Handloom Outwork and Outwork Weaving in Rural Rhode Island 

1810-1821. American Studies, 30(2), 41-68. https://doi.org/10.1353/amsj.v30i2.2471



This year, 2025, Karen and I worked a sewing machine with my ten year old granddaughter, 

Elizabeth and with grandson Lachlann on his first hand sewing project. 

 

We are the warp and they the weft of history. 




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