Nancy Goyne Evans
The Written Evidence of Furniture Repairs and Alterations: How Original Is "All Original?"

The extensive database that forms the foundation of this study has been described in part 1, published in 2007. The material, which has a broad geographic range, covers locations both urban and rural and, for the most part, dates from the immediate pre-Revolutionary years to the mid-nineteenth century. At best, craftsmen's accounts are short on description, flexible in the language of object identification, and often highly original in orthography. Records of repairs and alterations to case furniture constitute the largest section of part 2. Included are desks, chests, and storage cupboards in their variety, followed by a brief discussion of clock case repairs. Notes on repairs to looking glasses form a separate short section. Completing the study are remarks on the maintenance of minor household equipment and personal items made of wood or with wooden parts.

Desks
Most desks deposited for repairs in the shops of American craftsmen from the mid-eighteenth century through the early decades of the nineteenth century were of the type often described today as a "slant-front desk" (fig. 1). The form was current in England in the early eighteenth century, although its popularity in large urban centers appears to have waned after midcentury. Thomas Sheraton, writing in his Cabinet Dictionary of 1803, provided a description of this desk form, noting that in England the term "bureau" usually was "applied to common desks with drawers under them, such as are made very frequently in country towns." Continuing, he stated,

They run from 3 to 4 feet long, and have three heights [tiers] of common drawers under them, the upper one divided into two in length. The desk flap turns down to 30 inches perpendicular height from the ground, or a little less, for sitting to write at. The inside of the desk part is fitted up with small drawers, and holes for letters. These pieces of furniture are nearly obsolete in London.

Considerably more popular in urban settings in late-eighteenth-century England was the slant-front case surmounted by a bookcase. Of particular note, English designers, including Thomas Chippendale, William Ince and John Mayhew, and George Hepplewhite, labeled this case form a "Desk and Bookcase" rather than a bureau.^[1]

In America the cost of general repairs to the low desk could vary from as little as 16 1/2¢ (1s.) to $9.00 or more. A general survey suggests that repairs priced at $1.00 (6s.) or more, $1.00 being equivalent to a day's pay for many craftsmen, were perhaps two times as common as repairs that cost less than $1.00. The desk was a popular furniture form. It served as a small commercial center and reflected a degree of social standing. Perhaps that is why, on occasion, householders paid a local cabinetmaker to restore an "old" desk, a process referred to at times as "fitting up [an] old Desk." The Oxford English Dictionary defines the term "fitting up" as "bring[ing] into a suitable condition."^[2]

The terms "repair" and "mend" appear to have been in about equal use to describe repair work to desks. Whatever the word choice, a shop usually was consistent in its use of the term. On rare occasions craftsmen substituted the words "fix" or "work at" to describe the general repair process. Wood identification appears to have been more common in desk repair than in the repair work discussed in part 1, which included bed frames, tables, and stands. Named in records as primary desk woods are pine, maple, cedar, cherry, black walnut, and mahogany, mahogany and maple being mentioned most frequently. Desk size appears to have been fairly consistent because the descriptors "large" and "small" rarely occur. A single reference only describes an uncommon desk form introduced in the federal period. In 1808 Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, made note of "Repairing a Cylender fall Desk" for £1.4 ($4.01).^[3]

Records cite specific desk repairs only on occasion, unlike the identification of new desk parts. Mentioned most frequently in named repairs is work to the board that forms the writing surface, a component Sheraton termed a "flap" because of its hinged structure. Among American craftsmen two other terms were common. Jeduthern Avery of Bolton/Coventry, Connecticut, described mending "A lid to [a] Desk" in 1830 and charged 15¢. Samuel Douglas identified a similar repair in western Connecticut and also supplied a lock, all for 25¢. "Hanging a Desk Lid" was a task Chapman Lee undertook at a comparable price early in the century at Charlton, Massachusetts. In "Reparing [a] Desk Fall" in 1809, John Sager of Bordentown, New Jersey, identified another term for the writing board. Ten years later Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, performed work for Captain John Bigley that included "Mending and Hanging a Desk fall and fitting a Key to the Lock," charging 50¢. Drawer repairs were less common. Of two recorded for 1792, Job Danforth of Providence repaired a drawer in a desk belonging to pewterer Gershom Jones. At Williamsburg, Virginia, William Pigget undertook the same work for St. George Tucker, a lawyer. Charges for both jobs were less than 50¢, as was the work of "gluen feet on a desk" for Captain William Bartlett of Beverly, Massachusetts, completed in 1772 by Sewell Tuck.^[4]

New desk parts in greatest demand at cabinetmakers' shops were "trimmings," the metal fittings that made interior access possible and brightened exterior surfaces (fig. 1). How much retrimming work was necessitated by normal wear and tear versus updating the style of the hardware is unknown. When Luke Houghton repaired and varnished a desk for a customer at Barre, Massachusetts, in 1821, he also refurbished the case with "one set of trimmings" for $1.00 and "five esscouchings" (escutcheons), the metal shields surrounding the keyholes, for 20¢. Decades earlier Job Townsend Jr. of Newport, Rhode Island, had placed a "handle" on a customer's desk. The specific reference to a single handle and the substantial cost of the hardware at 7s. ($1.17) suggest this was a large lifting handle of a type sometimes placed on the sides of cases to facilitate moving. Townsend's son, Job E. Townsend, employed alternative terms for case hardware and often named the structural material of the desk under repair: "To mending a black Wollnot Desk and finding New Brasses for Ditto" (1786); "To Putting firnuture on a old mapol Desk" (1791); "To mending a Mohogony Desk and Putting on New firnature" (1799); "To Mending & Plaining over a Cherry Desk and fixing on New firnature" (1824). At Philadelphia Daniel Trotter also used the term "new furnitor" when repairing a desk for merchant Stephen Girard. Desk repairs made at Boston in 1785 by Alexander Edwards were followed a few years later by the installation of new "Brasses and Locks." On occasion, Job E. Townsend was employed in "Cleaning the Brasses for a Desk" rather than mounting new hardware. When a craftsman fitted a desk with new furniture and brass locks, he sometimes provided "Nubs," probably the diminutive brass knobs used as pulls on the small drawers in the writing cabinet. An alternative material for desk trimmings was wood, although it appears to have been uncommon. Miles Ward of Salem, Massachusetts, made note in 1756 of "tunig [turning] 8 boles [balls] for desk."^[5]

Almost as common as trimming a desk was the installation of locks, of which many appear to have been new fixtures, where none existed previously. The many single locks installed on desks without further comment likely were intended to secure the writing cabinet, or "desk head" as it sometimes was identified. More specific are references such as that penned at North Stonington, Connecticut, in 1798 by Oliver Avery: "To [a] desk fall lock." A rarity is James Gere's reference to installing "Drawer Locks" for a customer at Groton. Isaiah Tiffany's work for a client at Norwich suggests some of the same activity. Constant use of the desk subjected the fall, or writing board, to damage at the attachment points with the case. When David Evans repaired a desk for Rachel Atmore at Philadelphia in 1777, he also supplied "a Pair of Desk Hinges" for 2s. 6d. (42¢). More expensive at 75¢ were the "large size butts hinges" Hiram Taylor placed on a desk for a customer in Chester County, Pennsylvania. As noted by Elisha Harlow Holmes at Essex, Connecticut, the installation of a pair of butt hinges required "1 doz screws."^[6]

The number of customer calls at cabinet shops for new desk lids, or falls, was perhaps about the same as that for drawers. The cost of replacing a lid was variable, depending on the type and quality of wood required, although craftsmen's accounts seldom identify materials. In 1780 Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, charged a customer 6s. ($1.00) for "making a fall for a Desk." The same year he charged another customer 13s. 6d. ($2.25) for "mending a Desk and making a New fall." In neither case is the wood specified. Some householders required new baize, a napped woolen cloth usually green in color, for the writing surface of their desk. Reed and Hollis of Salem, Massachusetts, charged John Devereaux, Esq., $2.00 in 1835 for "Finding Cloth & putting the same on Desk." Philip Warren provided more detail a few years earlier at Philadelphia, when he billed Thomas Cadwalader for "Repairing and Tacking a Cloth on a Desk, Green Binding, Tacks &c."^[7]

The records of Job E. Townsend describe other activity in desk repair, when in 1783 he provided a client at Newport with "a Drawer for the head of the Desk," or writing compartment. Other requests at this shop appear to have been for full-size drawers. Townsend's father, Job Townsend Jr., made a "Draw to a Desk" eighteen years earlier for John Wanton, "mariner" and member of a prominent Rhode Island family. Sometimes drawer work was coupled with other tasks, as described in 1808 by Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, who put "Castors & Drawers to a Desk" and charged £4.10 ($15.03), a sum that suggests the wood was mahogany.^[8]

Desk feet were subject to damage and destruction. Work carried out at Boston in 1781 by Alexander Edwards for his client Daniel Crosby involved "fixing up desk New feet & fall &c." The £2 charge ($6.68) reflects the status of the desk. A job undertaken at Providence two decades later by Job Danforth at a cost of £1.1 ($3.51) may describe a desk of similar quality: "To Plaining over & Putten too [two] new feet to a Desk." A single account appears to address a variant of the fall-front desk over a full case of drawers. The alternative form, known today as a desk-on-frame, was identified by a shop patron of Fenwick Lyell at Middletown, New Jersey, who engaged the cabinetmaker to put "Brackets on a Desk frame" at a cost of 14s. ($2.34). These small ornamental embellishments fit the angles between the tall legs and the case frame. Thomas J. Moyers and Fleming K. Rich pursued a more utilitarian task at Wytheville, Virginia, in 1837, when "reparing & putting backboard on [a] desk" with a full case of drawers.^[9]

Surface treatments requested by householders when having their desks repaired or refurbished ran the gamut. Craftsmen's records identify thirteen single or combination procedures. As indicated in part 1 of this study, technical language at times is variable. In the present case, planing and dressing a wood surface describe the same activity. Similarly, scraping and cleaning can be equated. In enumerating customer options in desk finishes, the list moves from preliminary to final treatments: planing—alone, with stain, with stain and polish, with polish alone, or with varnish; scraping—with varnish; staining—alone, with planing (as above), with planing and polish (as above), with polish alone, or with varnish; varnish—alone, or with other procedures (as above); painting—alone; coloring—alone.

Finish work on desks, which, as described, ranged from simple to complex procedures, is recorded for all locations, rural and urban. Charges varied from as little as 25¢ to the equivalent of a full day's pay, or more, for an average working man. The records of Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, are more complete and comprehensive than those of most craftsmen whose records exit. The cabinetmaker identified the wood of many refinished desks. In 1779 he recorded "Playning and Poillishing a mohogony Desk," followed two years later by staining and polishing a maple desk. Late in his career Townsend recorded "Plaining over" a cherry desk. In rural New Ipswich, New Hampshire, Josiah P. Wilder debited the account of James Bancroft in 1838 for scraping and varnishing a pine desk. The varnish could well have been toned with pigment to a medium or dark wood color. Two decades later Robert Rantoul of Beverly, Massachusetts, paid William Raymond for "Repairing & painting a large desk," possibly one used for record keeping in his extensive drug business. Coloring a desk with size and pigment probably was not much practiced beyond the opening years of the nineteenth century, when Oliver Avery of North Stonington, Connecticut, refinished a desk in this manner for which he was paid 42¢, while working in the shop of Gilbert Sisson.^[10]

Craftsmen's records identify several desk forms of specialized function, of which one is the "portable desk." John Marshall, cabinetmaker, advertised "Portable Writing Desks" from his shop in Meeting Street, Charleston, South Carolina, on February 17, 1796. These desks have several forms. An early design is a diminutive imitation of the head of a standard desk, complete with slanted façade above a shallow drawer, with an interior of small drawers and pigeonholes. Dating to the post-Revolutionary period, a rectangular, hinged-lid style includes a hinged writing board in the interior that fits into the lid, with compartments for writing equipment and supplies in the bottom section. Another federal-period portable case has an arched, tambour-top closure at the back behind a slanted façade above a shallow front drawer. The interior contains a folded, baize-covered writing board and storage compartments (fig. 2). Most, if not all, portable desks have carrying handles mounted on the side panels.^[11]

Ten references to the repair of this small portable center of business and social interaction have emerged from the body of records consulted for this study. Half are for unnamed repairs carried out in the shops of Silas E. Cheney (Litchfield, Connecticut, 1802), John Hockaday (Williamsburg, Virginia, 1807), Jacob Brouwer (New York City, 1808), and Elisha Harlow Holmes (Essex, Connecticut, 1829, two customers). At Kennebunk, Maine, Paul Jenkins undertook a moderately expensive job when he repaired, scraped, and varnished a portable desk and then installed a lock, $2.08 being the sum of charges. Two dollars was Thomas Boynton's charge for "scraping and varnishing a portable Desk" at Windsor, Vermont, in 1814 for Frederick Pettes, proprietor of an inn that also served as a "Stage House." The small desk likely received good custom from his patrons. At Middletown, New Jersey, Fenwick Lyell cleaned and polished a portable desk for one customer and installed a "New Lock" on a desk for another patron, both jobs completed just after 1800. Two decades later Elizur Barnes supplied a new portable desk lock for a client at Middletown, Connecticut. Aside from his repair work, Fenwick Lyell provided insight on the accessories and cost of a new portable desk: "1 Portable Desk with Ink & Sand Glasses" at £4.12 ($15.36).^[12]

When first encountered in records, the term "writing desk" appeared to this author to be an alternative term for the slant-front desk with drawers. The periodic recurrence of the term and the nature of some repair work, however, began to suggest that something more was indicated. Ultimately, the records of Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, shed light on the elusive form. On May 22, 1805, Lyell debited the account of Charles R. Camman for "Puting 4 Ledges on the flaps of a Writing Desk," identifying a type of work station for a counting room, office, or store that accommodated one or more persons. Most writing desks probably were elevated on a plain, open frame to a height suitable for either sitting or standing. The frame supported a slant-top box of appropriate width with hinged "flaps" to afford access to interior storage. Near the outside bottom of each flap was a "ledge," or cleat, to support a ledger or other document. The writing desk could be single-sided or double-sided, and it might contain a row of small drawers and pigeonholes, even a bookcase, across the back or at the division between two sides (fig. 3). The book Prices of Cabinet and Chair Work published at Philadelphia in 1772 describes both a double and a single desk on a frame for a "Store," with a row of drawers and pigeonholes at the back, the whole constructed of walnut or pine.^[13]

Complementing Fenwick Lyell's work on a writing desk are entries from the accounts of three other shops for constructing writing-desk frames at prices ranging from 75¢ to $4.75. Job Danforth built "a fraim to a Righting Dask" in 1796 for Philip Crapo, a merchant of Providence, Rhode Island. Hezekiah Healy's work a few years earlier at Windsor, Vermont, was for Isaac Greene, a storekeeper. Most expensive was Abner Taylor's job of building "a writing desk botom with a drawer" at Lee, Massachusetts. Nicholas Low, a merchant of New York City, required merely a "new brace to [a] desk frame" in 1824, which he acquired from Abraham S. Egerton. Aside from information in the Philadelphia book of prices, the wood used in writing desks is named only twice in the records consulted for this study. Dr. Isaac Senter of Newport, Rhode Island, engaged Walter Nichols in June 1784 to construct a "maple writing desk and frame" for $8.00. Pine was used in a new desk built for $6.00 in 1833 by William Webb IV for Joseph G. Waters, a lawyer of Salem, Massachusetts.^[14]

Several craftsmen made additions to existing writing-desk frames. Silas E. Cheney of Litchfield, Connecticut, billed Isaac Baldwin $1.17 in 1809 for "puting shelf to writing Desk." A "Book frame for writing Desk," costing $1.00, was supplied at Cooperstown, New York, in 1830 by Robert C. Scadin. Priced somewhat higher at $1.50 was a writing-desk drawer, as indicated in a bill of 1792 from Seth R. Kneeland to James Beekman, a merchant of New York City. Only four months earlier Kneeland had supplied Beekman with nine stools. Sometimes all that was required for a writing desk was a lock, as noted by Hezekiah Healy in Vermont. Job E. Townsend's work at "Mending and Cleaning a Righting Disk and Book Case" in 1795 at Newport, Rhode Island, indicates that bookcases were part of some writing-desk structures. At Providence Job Danforth twice recorded "putting [a] Cupboard to [a] Writing Desk" for 15s. ($2.51). The enclosed space may have served the same function as a bookcase. Another reference to a bookcase illuminates the subject of finish. In 1806 Stephanus Knight of Enfield, Connecticut, made note of "Painting [a] Boockcase and Writeing desk." Eight years earlier Knight had painted a writing desk for another customer, an activity also recorded at Windsor, Vermont, by Thomas Boynton and at Kennebunk, Maine, by Paul Jenkins.^[15]

A series of transactions between Stephen Girard, an eminent merchant of Philadelphia, and cabinetmaker Henry Connelly introduces another form to this discussion, the writing table. In June 1810 Connelly undertook to repair a table of this description and to cover it with "green cloth," probably baize, at a total cost of $6.25. The simple baize-covered frame in figure 2 may illustrate this table form, as well as a table William Webb IV repaired and covered with cloth for Joseph G. Waters, Esq., at Salem, Massachusetts. By November 1811 Connelly was again at work on Girard's writing table, this time engaged at "altering mouldings." A new cover was required again in May 1812, at which time Connelly also constructed a "New Drawer" for a table and installed a "patent Lock." The baize-covered table may have been replaced in 1817, when Girard purchased from Connelly a new writing table with a "writing flap" for $28.00. A decade later Elisha H. Holmes of Essex, Connecticut, enhanced the functionality of a client's writing table by making a "secretary," that is, a series of small drawers, and possibly pigeonholes, at the back of the frame.^[16]

The slant-front desk fitted with a bookcase above the writing compartment is termed a "desk and bookcase" in eighteenth-century and early-nineteenth-century records (fig. 2). Bookcase tops are flat or pedimented. The doors fronting the bookcase shelves show greater variety, being plain, paneled, arched, scalloped, or sashed. Records provide little information either about design or the exact nature of repairs. Descriptions in eighteenth-century accounts are particularly spare. After "mending a Desk and Book Case" at Newport, Rhode Island, in 1783, Job E. Townsend finished the job by "fitting the Locks." A few years later he mended and "cleaned" a desk-and-bookcase for another client, although there is no evidence that he applied any type of finish. During the 1780s Daniel Ross "polished" a desk-and-bookcase at Ipswich, Massachusetts, charging his client 6s. ($1.00). The size of the two-part desk-and-bookcase may have been a deterrent to carting it off to a cabinet shop for any but essential work.^[17]

Early-nineteenth-century evidence of repairs to the desk-and-bookcase is slightly more common and descriptive, probably because by this period the form was aging. A customer engaged Perez Austin at Canterbury, Connecticut, in 1823 to "fit" his desk-and-bookcase, a job that likely rehabilitated an older piece of furniture for new service. Work carried out by Elizur Barnes for a patron at Middletown two years earlier may describe some of the tasks also performed by Austin: "To Repairing, Cleaning & Varnishing Desk & Book Case." Barnes charged $3.50 for his work; Austin's bill was higher at $7.00. Allen Holcomb's work at New Lisbon in central New York State in the 1820s included varnishing a desk-and-bookcase for Dr. Walter Wing.^[18]

A small group of records relative to the desk-and-bookcase describes an alteration/conversion that likely was relatively common, especially in the federal period. First mention in records consulted for this study is in 1774, when Robert Cockburn, who worked in Orange County, Virginia, charged a customer £2 ($6.67) for making "one Wal[nu]t Bookcase and mending the ould Desk." A dozen years later Townsend Goddard of Newport, Rhode Island, performed similar work for merchant Christopher Champlin, again using walnut and charging £2.2. Converting a desk to a desk-and-bookcase was relatively simple, and in these two jobs the material of the desk likely dictated that of the bookcase. In 1808 Jonathan Peckham paid Edward Slead of Dartmouth, Massachusetts, $2.00 for "colouring and fixing a desk," which was followed by "making a book case for the Desk" for $5.00. When, several years later, Albert C. Greene engaged Stephen Sweet of East Greenwich, Rhode Island, to build a bookcase, his desk required only some "Bracing." Work to a desk, described in 1821 as "fixing a desk," was a prelude to Daniel Downing's acquisition of a bookcase for his desk at the shop of Thomas Safford in Canterbury, Connecticut. As late as 1833 John Wolferspergen bespoke similar work, which was spelled out in detail by John Ellinger of Palmyra, Lebanon County, Pennsylvania: "To mending and old Desk [and] Varnish'g and Making Book Case on and Cleaning old Mountings" (hardware). The transaction, which serves to illuminate the conservative nature of the German community in Pennsylvania, also demonstrates that it was never too late to convert something old into something new and useful.^[19]

In distinguishing the secretary-and-bookcase from the desk-and-bookcase, George Hepplewhite noted in his Cabinet-Maker and Upholsterer's Guide (1794) that the secretary "differ[s] in not being sloped in front." He went on to explain that "the accommodations . . . for writing are produced by the face of the upper drawer falling down by means of a spring and quadrant, which produces the same usefulness as the flap to a desk." Descriptions of the secretary-and-bookcase in craftsmen's records are few. Therefore, it usually is not possible to know the exact form of the double case: whether the lower case was close to the floor or elevated on tall legs; whether it was filled with drawers or a combination of drawers and cabinets; whether the writing surface was a drawer with a drop front or a fold-out board at the top of the lower case. The type of writing surface also dictated the style of the upper case. The drop-front drawer has a fitted case at the back containing small drawers and pigeonholes, and the upper case is a full bookcase, usually glazed (fig. 4). The small drawers and pigeonholes accompanying the fold-out board are concealed at the bottom of the upper case behind cupboard doors, a tambour, or small solid panels in the glazed doors.^[20]

Craftsmen rarely distinguished between the low secretary and the secretary-and-bookcase. Internal evidence, such as repair costs and named furniture parts, indicates that the two terms were interchangeable in most cases. The secretary was a new form in America in the federal period, and, indeed, most repair work noted by craftsmen falls in the 1820s and 1830s, a period when many cases had accrued sufficient age to require attention by the local cabinetmaker. Many repairs are anonymous. In one unusual circumstance Elisha H. Holmes of Essex, Connecticut, noted, "Going to Deep river & repairing secretary." The 75¢ charge would have included the time spent going to and coming from Deep River, a community on the Connecticut River about 3 1/2 miles distant from Essex. More specific is Allen Holcomb's record of "Reparing a Secretary Drawer" for 50¢ at New Lisbon in central New York State. Of particular note is work undertaken in 1810 by Silas E. Cheney at Litchfield, Connecticut, for his client Joseph L. Smith. Each task in the extensive job is listed and priced separately, the total amounting to $4.56: "to puting feet to seckretary" ($2.00); "to fixing locks & hanging Dores & altering quadrents" ($1.25); "to Varnishing seckretary & book case" (50¢); "to 2 handles for [secretary]" (50¢); "to 5 kee hole etscutions [escutcheons]" (31¢). The "quadrants" Cheney speaks of are the curved metal straps supporting the drop front of the writing drawer, as identified in Hepplewhite's Guide (fig. 4).^[21]

The varnish finish noted by Cheney was, by far, the more common of the two surface finishes noted in craftsmen's records for the secretary-and-bookcase. In 1827, when Michael Bouvier, a cabinetmaker of Philadelphia, repaired a secretary for Stephen Girard, he identified "polish" as the alternative surface coating. Bouvier completed the job by "Putting Knobs On Secretary," although the material of the new knobs is uncertain. More specific is a reference in the accounts of Thomas J. Moyers and Fleming K. Rich of Wytheville, Virginia, who in 1837, after "reparing & varnishing [a] secutary and book case" for James R. Miller, installed "1 set glass knobs." Glass was a new medium for furniture trimmings by the second quarter of the century, made possible by technological advances in the rising American glass industry. Moyers and Rich completed their job for Miller by "painting glass," an apparent reference to coating the back surfaces of the panes in the bookcase doors in lieu of installing interior hardware and curtains.^[22]

New trimmings were a frequent addition to repaired and refurbished secretaries-and-bookcases. Unfortunately, most trimmings are not identified beyond the knobs installed at Philadelphia and Virginia, and Silas E. Cheney's handles and escutcheons for a Connecticut client. In 1807 John Collins trimmed a secretary belonging to Richard Blow of Portsmouth, Virginia, using "10 handles," and twelve years later Friedrich Bastian recorded "Putting Mountins [mountings, or hardware] on a Secretary" in central Pennsylvania. Thomas Boynton supplied hardware of another type at Windsor, Vermont, in this period, when he debited the account of Charles Marsh, Esq., $2.00 for "3 Balls for a Secretary," identifying spherical finials for the pediment.^[23]

A reference to "Repairing a Ladies Cabinet," a new, specialized furniture form in the federal period, is a rarity among records consulted for this study. Fenwick Lyell carried out the work in 1809 for a client at Middletown, New Jersey. If Lyell's terminology is accurate, the form he referred to is described and illustrated in Sheraton's Cabinet-Maker and Upholsterer's Drawing-Book (1793) as well as in his Cabinet-Makers' London Book of Prices for 1793. Basically, the form is a small rectangular writing table with a fold-out board supported when open on lopers or on a shallow drawer in the frame. At the back of the table rises a shallow, two-tier case fitted variously with a bookshelf, small cabinets with drawers, nests of drawers, "letter holes," and open recesses. Lyell's shop at Middletown was located near the northern Jersey coast, within easy sailing distance of lower Manhattan, the business center of New York City. Lyell would have been familiar with the latest furniture fashions in the urban center, given his location in New Jersey and his earlier business experience in Manhattan between 1797 and 1799 at his shop in Beaver Street.^[24]

Bookcases
When considering repairs to the freestanding bookcase, references cannot always be taken at face value. Undoubtedly, some bookcases identified without further description actually formed the top section of a desk-and-bookcase rather than a stand-alone case. Examples of this ambiguity include Isaac Vose's record of "work on [a] book case" at Boston in 1791 and Joel Mount's note of "reparing [a] bookcase" half a century later at Juliustown, New Jersey. By contrast, a job at "Fitting up Book cases" undertaken by Reed and Hollis at Salem, Massachusetts, for John Devereux, Esq., appears to identify the independent form more clearly.^[25]

Regardless of the independent or dependent status of the bookcase, structural repairs to the form were similar. John G. Hopkins repaired a "Shelf to [a] book Case" in 1830 at Providence, Rhode Island, for as little as 20¢. Felix Huntington's work for Colonel Joshua Huntington at Norwich, Connecticut, in the late 1770s included "new hanging [a] Book Case," that is, rehanging the doors. The cabinetmaker also indicated that he supplied the new "hinges & screws." "Putting [a] pice [piece] on a book case" was all that was required to refurbish a case for Doctor B. Smart at Kennebunk, Maine. Paul Jenkins further accommodated the doctor by moving the case and "putting up [an] old one." At Middletown, New Jersey, Fenwick Lyell made repairs to "the Lower part of a Book Case," charging his client 7s. ($1.17).^[26]

More activity revolved around the actual replacement of bookcase parts. Phillip Filer supplied a new shelf for a client's bookcase at or near Rome, New York, whereas David Pritchard of Waterbury, Connecticut, made a new bookcase back. In an unusual credit arrangement Elizur Barnes of Middletown, Connecticut, permitted one of his woodworking customers to offset part of his debt by "making [a] bottom to [a] bookcase" for another of Barnes's customers. From Vermont to Virginia woodworkers were kept busy installing new locks on bookcases or replacing old ones. A relatively complete, although unusual, job of providing hardware was recorded by Pennell Beale in 1791 at Philadelphia. Beale charged General Henry Knox 7s. 6d. ($1.25) for "Rectifying [putting right] a Book Case" and then itemized the additional hardware and installation charges: "1 Stocklock" 11s. 3d., "putting it on the Doore" (2s. 6d.), "1 Small Lock" (1s. 6d.), "putting it on" (6d.), "4 Screws and putting a Lock on" (1s. 6d.). The total additional charge was 17s. 3d. ($2.88). As described in the Oxford English Dictionary, a stock-lock is a mechanism enclosed in a wooden case and usually fitted on an outer door. The secondary locks in this order appear to have secured internal drawers or cupboards. Other bookcase work focuses on the doors. Both Howard Smith of New Haven, Connecticut, and Nathaniel Holmes of Kingston, Massachusetts, may have supplied doors where none existed previously. Holmes's $1.00 charge also included priming. Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, supplied one pane of glass for a door, whereas Robert Kennedy carried out more extensive work at Philadelphia for merchant William Barrell by "Glazeing 12 lights" and painting the entire bookcase, all for 12s. ($2.00).^[27]

Paint was the surface finish on at least two other bookcases, as recorded by Thomas Boynton at Windsor, Vermont, and William G. Beesley at Salem, New Jersey. Polish was requested at Litchfield, Connecticut, and Newport, Rhode Island, by customers of Silas E. Cheney and Walter Nichols, respectively. A varnish finish was the more common selection, however. Before varnishing a bookcase for a client, Elizur Barnes of Middletown, Connecticut, first "cleaned" the surface. In this process he either removed all of a former finish or smoothed the surface in some manner so that the varnish coat he applied made the case look as good as new. When work on the bookcase was finished, Barnes recorded "Sending it home." The wording implies that the owner had previously directed the cabinetmaker to make the transportation arrangements. A description of work undertaken by Daniel Trotter at Philadelphia in 1787 for Benjamin Thaw was more focused. When completed, the cabinetmaker recorded "mending & varnishing the head of a Bookcase" for 7s. 6d. ($1.25). The term "head" identified a pediment or a substantial molding that formed an ornament at the top of the case.^[28]

Chests
The term "chest" when first encountered in craftsmen's records appears to be an ambiguous word. A study of pertinent references indicates, however, that in most cases this term identified a box-form chest with a hinged lid at the top accompanied at times by one or more tiers of drawers at the bottom (fig. 5). The relevant evidence includes many references to mending or replacing a chest "lid," or "top," the frequent installation of a single lock, the occasional mention of a chest till or a chest with one drawer, and the extensive use of paint as a surface finish.

"Mend," "repair," and "fix" were terms craftsmen employed to describe the process of returning a chest to a sound structural state. The word "mend" appears in the records more often than "repair" and "fix" combined. On occasion the terms "old" or "large" are part of the description. When working for widow Mary Norris of Philadelphia in 1778, Thomas Tufft named the construction material in "mending a Walnut Chest" at a charge of 10s. ($1.67). Solomon Cole of Glastonbury, Connecticut, identified the function of a chest he refurbished in 1801 as a repository for clothes. Structural repairs varied in cost from as little as 10d. to well over £1. In the decimal-based currency adopted in the United States in the 1790s, this represented a range of 14¢ to $4.00.^[29]

On occasion, craftsmen identified actual structural repairs and replacements. Most common was work involving the "lid" or "top" of the chest, a job described sometimes as "hanging a Chest." Part of the same task might be other structural repairs or replacements and the repair or installation of a lock. A typical entry, recorded in 1797 at Ridgefield, Connecticut, by Elisha Hawley, reads: "to Chest Lid for Josiah & puting Lock." Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, used alternative language in 1790 when identifying the basic job as "a New top to a Chest" for his customer Daniel Weatherly. No money exchanged hands. Instead, Weatherly bartered "fish Sounds" (air bladders) and fish to pay for the work. Second on the list of structural work was the repair, replacement, or addition of a drawer or drawers. Again, Townsend's records provide comprehensive insights into the nature of this work and the scope of related activity. On August 22, 1818, Townsend charged Isaac Stoddard 17¢ for "Mending the Drawers of his Chest." This appears to have been the same chest for which Townsend had made a "New Till & Draws and Perticeans" (partitions) eight months earlier, charging Stoddard $2.00 for the work. In the 1780s Townsend had accommodated another customer, J. Hill, by "making a New Bottom and two Drawers to a Large Chest" for 9s. ($1.50). Whether this was replacement work or an alteration to an otherwise drawerless chest is unclear, although the cost of Townsend's work for Stoddard and for Hill indicates that both jobs, including materials, required more than a day's labor. Still another structural repair is identified in the accounts of Peter Ranck, a Pennsylvania German craftsman of Jonestown, Lebanon County. In 1795 Ranck recorded "putting feet to one chest and one lock and painting it."^[30]

Hardware for lidded chests is an item of considerable note in craftsmen's accounts. Lock work, whether a repair or the installation of a new or replacement lock, was the most common request. Nine pence (12 1/2¢) was the amount Samuel Durand charged Henry Bull at Milford, Connecticut, in 1814 for "mending [a] Chest lock." The supply and installation of a new lock appears to have cost in the range of 1s. 4d. to 4s. (22¢ to 67¢). A simple installation of a lock in hand usually cost less than 1s. When putting a lock on a chest in 1770, Timothy Loomis of Windsor also noted the use of "nails." Some jobs were more extensive. After mending a chest at Wallingford in 1806, Titus Preston put on both a lock and hinges. More complete information occurs in the records of George Claypoole of Philadelphia, who in 1773 recorded the installation of hardware on a chest belonging to Samuel Meredith: "to a lock & hinges" (2s. 2d.), "to a hasp & two staples" (1s.), "to puting the above to a Chest" (1s. 6d.). The various charges ranged from 16 1/2¢ to 36¢.^[31]

At times the installation of hardware accompanied repainting the exterior surface of a chest. Titus Preston provided considerable detail in 1819, when describing work he carried out for a client in Connecticut: "painting & puting brasses on a chest which with the necessary preparations [for painting] & going over it 5 times took me over 8 hours beside finding oil paints & varnish and puting on a lock." Preston's charge was 8s. ($1.34). More modest in cost at 41¢ was a job Samuel Douglas undertook for Miss Mary Embry in 1812 in the area of New Hartford and Canton, when "puting Lock on Chest, hanging lid [and] painting Mahogany Couler." Paint was the popular finish for the lidded chest, far exceeding all other options combined. Aside from mahogany color, Douglas recorded "painting [a] Chest with oran[ge]" three years later. At the beginning of the century Stephanus Knight of Enfield had recorded "Painting a Chest Blew."^[32]

A few householders elected to have their chest recolored, a relatively cheap surface treatment utilizing pigment suspended in size. This was the option of several customers at the shop of Oliver Avery in North Stonington, Connecticut, in the late eighteenth century, a period when David Haven of Framingham, Massachusetts, also recorded "Collaring a Chist with one Draw" for a resident of Hopkinton, a community located about nine miles to the west. Of unusual nature is a customer entry of 1764 in the accounts of John Durand of Milford, Connecticut: "by Coming up to your hous and Colering a Chest." Only rarely did a craftsman undertake repair work or refurbishing at a client's home. Furniture delivery and pickup were the responsibility of the customer. In this case Durand's customer paid handsomely for the service at 8s. 6d. ($1.42). Other options for refurbishing a chest surface were staining, as recorded by Abner Taylor circa 1814 at Lee, Massachusetts, and varnishing, a task Jeduthern Avery completed on an "old Chest" for 15¢ in 1824 at Bolton/Coventry, Connecticut.^[33]

Chests of Drawers
The storage form consisting of a set of drawers within an open box-style frame was identified by one of three names in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Most common was the term "case of drawers" (also called a case "with" or "and" drawers), which was used far more often than the second and third choices combined, "drawers" and "chest of Drawers" (fig. 6). Two cabinetmakers identified the primary wood of chests of drawers they repaired. Job E. Townsend named mahogany at Newport, Rhode Island, and John Hockaday cited walnut at Williamsburg, Virginia.^[34]

General references to chest-of-drawers repair work occur as early as the 1740s in materials supporting this study. In 1743 Joseph Lindsey recorded "repairing a Case of Drawers" for a customer at Marblehead, Massachusetts. Another repair is of interest because of the nature of the customer's barter goods. When Job Townsend Jr. of Newport, Rhode Island, completed work on Thomas Weaver's "Case [of] Drawers" in late December 1767, he already had recorded partial payment on December 24 in the form of "one Turkey 8 [pounds]." A small group of documents provides specific insights into structural work. Silas E. Cheney put a "Back to Case with Draws" in 1808 at Litchfield, Connecticut. A contemporary, Reuben Loomis, who worked in the area of Suffield, accommodated a client by "puting a top to an old case of draws." Two craftsmen installed new legs on customer's chests. William Proud of Providence, Rhode Island, charged 1s. 6d. (25¢) in 1776 for "torning a Seatt [set] of . . . Case of D[r]aws Legs." The date, the nature of fabrication, and the low cost suggest these were feet for an early-eighteenth-century chest. Samuel Davison's job of "makeing a leg for draws" at the same price in 1801 at Plainfield, Massachusetts, appears to describe work to a chest with bracket feet. Four years later Jacob Sass of Charleston, South Carolina, recorded "Gluing a Chest of Drawers Bracket [foot] and putting on a set of new Castors" for a client at a charge of $3.50. Most of the expense lay in the cost of the casters. More extensive work at "Rep'g [repairing] the under part of a chist of draws" required "2 days" of Alexander Low's time in 1798 at Freehold, New Jersey. To the 16s. charge for labor Low posted a charge of 2s. for "glew, wood & sprigs."^[35]

Constant use or a desire for enhanced efficiency led other householders to request repairs to the drawers of their chests. Two craftsmen, Silas E. Cheney of Litchfield, Connecticut, and Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, replaced "Sliders on a Set of Drawers" at charges of 17¢ and 39¢, respectively. Job Danforth of Providence charged 33¢ for a new "Draw Bottom." "Puting partitions in [a] Drewer" was more costly at 50¢ and 60¢, as recorded by George Merrifield at Albany, New York, and Luke Houghton at Barre, Massachusetts.^[36]

Repaired or replaced hardware was the focus of other customer requests at the local cabinet shop. When "mending a Case of Drawers" in 1788 for merchant Samuel Coates of Philadelphia, Daniel Trotter also altered the lock. Craftsmen identified case hardware by several names: "brasses," "trimmings," "mountings," and "furniture." Replacing the hardware on a chest of drawers often accompanied more extensive work, as when Titus Preston mended, painted, and put "Brasses" on a "case with draws" in 1798 for a customer at Wallingford, Connecticut. In the same decade Asa Jones completed work for James Perkins at Bridgewater, Massachusetts, by "Repairing a Case of Drawers, plaining and Staneing and polishing," then noting, "found Brasses." Somewhat later, Friedrich Bastian of Dauphin County, Pennsylvania, recorded mending and varnishing a chest of drawers and "Puting on monnlings" (mountings). By the 1820s and 1830s customers were requesting fashionable "knobs for draws," as indicated in the records of Daniel Ross of Ipswich, Massachusetts, and George Merrifield of Albany, New York.^[37]

Customer options for resurfacing the chest of drawers were broad. Surface smoothing was accomplished by planing, as identified by Asa Jones at Bridgewater, Massachusetts, or scraping, a task noted at Litchfield, Connecticut, by Silas E. Cheney, who then put varnish on the new surface of a double case (chest-on-chest). Varnishing sometimes accompanied mending a case, as indicated on several occasions in the 1820s by Moses Parkhurst of Paxton, Massachusetts. Painting the surface of a chest of drawers may have been almost as popular. Three craftsmen working during the first quarter of the nineteenth century recorded "painting a Chest of Drawers," or "Low Chest" as it was identified at times, at charges ranging from 33¢ to 42¢. Included in this group are Oliver Moore and Samuel Douglas of Connecticut and Allen Holcomb of New York State. Like the varnished chest, cases to be painted were repaired on occasion. Other householders deposited their chests of drawers with a woodworker for the purpose of having the surface polished. In one instance, in 1795, Elisha Hawley of Ridgefield, Connecticut, identified the polishing agent as "wax." The material and job cost 2s. 9d. (46¢). In 1748 Joseph Symonds of Salem, Massachusetts, posted the earliest reference in this study to polishing "a cas[e] of Draws." Of about equal popularity with polishing was coloring the surfaces of a case. Lemuel Tobey and Edward Slead of Dartmouth recorded "Cullering [a] Cais Draws" in 1774 and 1801, respectively. Staining a surface, as undertaken by Asa Jones at Bridgewater, appears to have been an infrequent option.^[38]

Tall chests received attention from furniture craftsmen in proportion to their more limited frequency in clients' homes. Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, recorded making an inexpensive 12 1/2¢ repair to a "High Case of Drawer[s]" (fig. 7) in the immediate post-Revolutionary years. Several decades later at Framingham, Massachusetts, Abner Haven undertook "fixing a high Case of draws," whose greater age appears reflected in the $11.00 charge for repairs. Surface coating accompanied some general repairs, which Townsend noted on several occasions in the late eighteenth century. In 1785 he recorded staining and polishing "a high Case of Drawers." Polish, alone, had accompanied "mending a Pair of hy Case of Drawers" almost three years earlier. Varnish was the surface coating applied in 1831 to a "highcase of Draws" in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, by Jacob Bachman.^[39]

In terms of structural repairs, more descriptive information emerges from records for the chest-on-chest of drawers (fig. 8). Silas E. Cheney spent the better part of three days at Litchfield, Connecticut, in 1801 "peasing and mending [a] Chest on chest." Another day, or more, was devoted to scraping and varnishing the case. Equally enlightening is a lengthy job carried out a few years earlier by Alexander Low at Freehold, New Jersey, described as "Rep'g a chist on chist 3 days work." Low's labor charge of £1.4, or 24s., suggests that his usual daily wage was 8s., a figure considerably higher than the common 6s. wage, or less, although Low's figure may reflect working days of extra length. In itemizing the materials he supplied, Low described, in part, what the work entailed: "To a lok & key 2s., one handel 1s., rep'g lokes 4s." for a total of 7s.; the "sprigs & Glew" he supplied cost another 3s. Somewhat unclear is work undertaken for Christopher Champlin in 1786 at Newport, Rhode Island, by Townsend Goddard, who recorded "To Carkes [carcass] & Repairs on a Chest on Chest of Draws."^[40]

Equally current with entries for repairs in craftsmen's accounts are references to alterations to the various chest forms described above. Many alterations made to the low chest of drawers (fig. 6) are unidentified, and the adjective "old" occurs with frequency. Jeduthern Avery of Bolton/Coventry, Connecticut, provided some insight in 1824, when he recorded "Altering old Draws & trimings." His charge was $4.00. The records of two other craftsmen, who posted similar charges, are more enlightening. Elizur Barnes of Middletown charged Mary Bement for "Altering & varnishing [a] Case Draws," "Cleaning Handles," and providing a "sett [of] Locks." Oliver Moore of East Granby described the final product in 1818, when debiting George Griswold's account for "altering your old Case of Drawers into a Bureau." A more explicit record is that of Nathaniel Dominy V of East Hampton, Long Island, who in 1819 noted a job for Jeremiah Miller: "To cut off old drawers, make new top, feet &c. to D[itt]o." Dominy's substantial charge of £1.16 ($6.01) indicates that he spent most of a work week at the job. His description suggests that the "old drawers" were of tall form, five or six drawers high, lowered to a four-drawer chest and updated with a new style top and feet.^[41]

A number of high chests underwent significant alteration. On two or more occasions high chests of drawers (fig. 7) became "a Berew [bureau] & Dressing table." Alexander Low recorded this work in 1799 at Freehold, New Jersey, followed by James Francis in the 1820s at Wethersfield, Connecticut. When Job Danforth of Providence, Rhode Island, made "two beaurows out of a case of draws" for 48s. ($8.02) in 1801 and provided "trimmings" for one of them, he identified another tall form, the chest-on-chest (fig. 8). The following year Silas E. Cheney of Litchfield, Connecticut, was employed at "aultearing [a] Chest on Chest into two burose" for prominent jurist Tapping Reeve. When undertaking a similar alteration a few years later, Cheney identified the resulting bureaus as "Large Size." Polishing followed some structural work, which Job E. Townsend undertook following repairs to "a Case of Drawers and Putting feet to the Top Part."^[42]

To begin a discussion of the bureau form, it is necessary first to define the term as it was understood and used in American society at the end of the eighteenth century and later. In French and British use "bureau" identifies a desk, the word derived from the French term "bure," the name for the woolen baize used to cover the writing surface. In America the word "bureau" appeared in a published notice of New York City origin as early as 1777, when a public auction offered household furnishings that included mahogany desks, "buroes," and chests of drawers, the list suggesting strongly that the bureau was not a desk and in some way could be distinguished from a chest of drawers. Another city auction, held in 1783, offered chests of drawers and "fine Buroes." More particularly enlightening are several advertisements of John Marshall, a cabinetmaker of Charleston, South Carolina, who in 1795 was prepared to supply "Ladies commode chests of drawers, of different forms" and "[Ladies] plain straight [chests of drawers]." Marshall shortened the first item to "Ladies Commodes" when advertising the following year. His use of the term "Commode" appears to have had special meaning, which is further amplified by the Oxford English Dictionary in identifying the term as "a chest of drawers . . . of the decorative kind." Few American craftsmen used the term "commode," however, preferring to use "bureau," as demonstrated in 1793 by Jonathan Gostelowe, a Philadelphia cabinetmaker, who advertised that he had on hand "a few Mahogany Bureaus" (fig. 9). Four months later Gostelowe held a public auction, offering "Circular and plain Bureaus," suggesting that "bureau" had become a generic term describing any new chest of drawers in a current style. As for the vintage styles, craftsmen still identified repairs to chests of drawers as late as the 1840s.^[43]

Like the short studies of repairs to other case forms, an investigation of bureau repairs comes up short on description. Without particular information about structure and style, it is difficult to envision that cases with drawers that passed through the repair shops of American cabinetmakers from the post-Revolutionary years until the 1840s were anything more than plain rectangular chests. Fortunately, a group of documents mentioning furniture repairs also contains information on new work, often in more detail, thus providing greater insight. Bureaus with four, six, and seven drawers are identified, the latter two cases containing at least one tier of narrow drawers at the top. Case façades are described as "straight," "circular," "round," "swelled," "elliptic," "sweep front," and "commode style," with some terms likely overlapping. To this list is added the "undulating serpentine façade," identified in both the London price book of 1793 and Hepplewhite's Guide (1794).^[44]

New cases with paneled ends are first mentioned in 1814 in documents used in this study. "Colum[ne]d" bureaus appear in the records as early as 1795 and 1796, although these quarter-column cases are different from later bureaus with three-quarter columns continuous with the feet (fig. 10) and the even later cases with freestanding columns, or pillars. References in this study to the last two styles date from 1817 to 1841. A variation of the full-column bureau was the half-column case. Several records cite bureaus specialized for "dressing," also described as having a "drassor top" or a "Case on the top." Features may have included a fitted dressing drawer, a dressing glass, and/or a tier of narrow setback drawers on the case top (fig. 10). A "back Board" of a type extending above a case top appears in two records dating to 1827, one board described as "ornamented." The second bureau also had a "prospect front," a term suggesting that the front of the case had cupboard doors or a cupboard below a drawer. Joseph Meeks and Sons' well-known broadside advertisement produced in 1833 at New York includes tiny images of two "Mahogany Bureaus" with cupboards in the case. From 1829 into the 1830s several cabinet shops produced bureaus with a front "projection," that is, a case with a top drawer extending forward of the lower drawers. Nathaniel Knowlton of Eliot, Maine, provided a particularly complete description: "a Bureau, mahog[any] front, Top projected, turned & reeded pillars."^[45]

Craftsmen's records also describe a small number of nonstructural ornamental embellishments that might be present on a bureau deposited at a cabinet shop for general repair. Cock beading bordered many drawer fronts, and some feet were carved. Crossbanding and stringing offered other visual diversity. Relatively new in the 1820s and 1830s were "Glass Triming[s]," more particularly described as "Cut glass Knobs."^[46]

Wood choice for bureaus describes a moderate selection. Mahogany was the decided preference as a primary wood, although the "mahogany front bureau" was more common than the full mahogany case. Cherry "ends" accompanied some mahogany façades. The all-cherry bureau was the next most popular choice. A new maple or curled maple case was an occasional selection by householders. Pine was more popular in this era of painted furniture, one example described as "ornamented." Birch and butternut cases appear to have been rarities. Whitewood (yellow poplar) ends framed at least one case, although whitewood was more common as a secondary material, as described in 1829 by James Gere of Groton, Connecticut: "Cherry, pine, and whitewood for mohagany front bureau."^[47]

Whether craftsmen recorded fixing, mending, or repairing a bureau, the records are almost uniformly silent on the exact nature of the work. The most comprehensive description is that recorded by William Rawson in 1836 at Killingly, Connecticut. His labor cost was $1.00, suggesting that the craftsman spent a day or less at the work. His itemized list of materials describes the nature of the work: "8 feet [of] Boards @ 3 [cents]" (24¢), "4 Bureau feet" (50¢), and "8 [Bureau] Knobs" (70¢). The board length was about right to supply a new horizontal two-board backing to the case. The new bureau feet, which were cheaper than the eight turned knobs, may have been of simple bracket form. The eight knobs would have accommodated a four-drawer case. Rawson completed the job by varnishing the case. In reviewing other, briefer, citations focused on the fabrication of new parts, it is possible to enlarge on vulnerable construction features. Several shops made a new "top for [a] burow," among them that of Moyers and Rich at Wytheville, Virginia. In 1834 the partners charged a client $14.00 for the work, almost half the price of a new "mahogany front bureau" purchased at the shop the same year by another customer for $30.00. Constructing this new bureau top involved more than simply supplying and finishing a top board. At a minimum the work involved building a tier of setback drawers and an ornamental backboard. More likely, given the cost, the new top board and drawers were accompanied by a vertical structure supporting a dressing glass of the general type illustrated in figure 10, with the supports possibly updated to the period. It is unclear whether the work represented the replacement of a damaged structure or an alteration to enhance an older case. Most jobs involving case tops were less extensive. For example, when Nathaniel Dominy V of East Hampton, Long Island, made a "Top to [a] Bureau" for a customer in 1819, his charge of £1.4 ($4.01) also included smoothing (probably scraping), coloring, and trimming the case. The new top likely was no more than a new board shaped on the edges and attached to the case. At the Middletown, Connecticut, shop of Elizur Barnes a client requested a new or replaced ornamental backboard for his bureau. "Vaneering a Bureau top" was a task carried out at Eliot, Maine, some years earlier by Nathaniel Knowlton at a modest charge of 37¢.^[48]

The cost of a complete new drawer for a bureau varied with size and material. In 1807 George Short of Newburyport, Massachusetts, charged a customer as little as 50¢. At the Virginia shop of Moyers and Rich "4 new drawers for [a] bureau" cost a substantial $6.00 several decades later. All, or most, of these drawers were of large size and possibly made of mahogany. Fifty cents was the charge at the same shop to another customer who required "new sides in [a] bureau drawer." Other cabinet shops recorded work to the case feet. On several occasions during the 1810s Friedrich Bastian of Dauphin County in central Pennsylvania charged customers for "Meaking feet on . . . Bearow." John T. Ball carried out related work in 1809 at New York City for merchant and land developer Nicholas Low. Of more specific nature is Solomon Sibley's record at Ward (Auburn), Massachusetts, of "Putting on Bracket feet to Buro." A related, although probably more extensive, job was undertaken at Petersburg, Virginia, in 1814 by Alexander Taylor for Richard Blow. The "new apron & feet" Taylor supplied for the Virginia merchant's mahogany bureau likely describes work to a case with French bracket feet (fig. 6, bottom). In another type of work, dating to 1830, Providence, Rhode Island, craftsman John G. Hopkins accommodated Richard W. Greene, United States attorney for Rhode Island, by supplying two sets of "Brass Socket Casters," one priced at $1.25, the other at $1.50. Hopkins's charge for "putting them on Buerows" was 50¢.^[49]

Of the cabinet shops that undertook some type of bureau work, half recorded the replacement or repair of hardware. A typical general account entry, as recorded by Elisha H. Holmes at Essex, Connecticut, in 1828, reads, "Repairing and triming [a] cherry bureau." Oliver Moore of East Granby provided a more specific explanation when he described "taking off old trimmings from a Bureau and puting on new ones." Elijah Sanderson of Salem, Massachusetts, Benjamin Ellery of Gloucester, and True Currier of Deerfield, New Hampshire, described the same work as "putting on new brasses." Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, preferred the term "New firnature." Individual items are further described in some accounts as handles, escutcheons, and locks and keys. Two craftsmen recorded polishing hardware, although they used other terms. Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, referred to the process as "cleaning," whereas Pennell Beale of Philadelphia used the word "rubing." Knobs were a feature of some bureaus, whether of wood, metal, or glass. Paul Jenkins of Kennebunk, Maine, supplied "8 mahogany knobs for [a] Bureau" in 1838 at a cost of 45¢. Elizur Barnes of Middletown, Connecticut, described a "Sett of Knobs" for $1.50 in 1821, suggesting by the price that the material was brass.^[50]

Varnish was the common finish for the bureau when the surface was refurbished. Abraham S. Egerton of New York City recorded "repairing & varnishing 4 bureaus" in 1824 for the household of Nicholas Low. "Varnishing [a] Burua twice" was the request of a customer at the shop of Silas E. Cheney at Litchfield, Connecticut, some years earlier. James Gere of Groton recorded the cost of materials for coating a bureau once: "Varnish for Bureau," 25¢, and "Turpentine," 3¢. Varnishing preceded by planing or scraping surfaces was the second-most common consumer option. Elizur Barnes undertook either procedure, as requested, for his customers at Middletown. Staining and varnishing a surface was an occasional choice among householders and the finish selected by several customers at the Hartwick, New York, shop of Leonard R. and James R. Proctor. Sometimes a surface was intact and needed only to be polished. Few bureaus were repainted. Thomas Boynton, a chairmaker and painting specialist of Windsor, Vermont, described a job at his shop as "painting Bureau Draws mahog[any] Im[itation]." Use of the term "imitation" virtually guarantees that the case was grain-painted; the charge was 50¢.^[51]

Cupboards
The term "cupboard" as used in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries may be defined as an architectural "recess or piece of furniture with a door [or doors] and usually shelves for storing crockery, provisions, or other small items." This was not the only name for the form, however. On occasion craftsmen alternatively employed "closet," "bofet" (buffet), and "dresser," the last named form containing a superstructure of open shelves set at the back of the frame. Although most references to cupboard repairs are general in nature, the chance descriptor provides insights into cupboard use, placement, and specific form. Some cupboards were repositories for cheese or pewter, some stood in a kitchen, and others were fitted into the corner of a room. A highly specialized cupboard was the wardrobe for clothing, also called a "press." A few wardrobes made of mahogany were more than utilitarian in nature.

More often than not, craftsmen used general terms when citing repairs to the tall, closed, single-stage or two-stage cupboard of broad or narrow form (figs. 11, 29, left). Abner Haven of Framingham, Massachusetts, charged Levi Metcalf 15¢ in 1810 for "fixing a Cheese cupboard," the charge a typical one for a general repair. Another craftsman, Peter Ranck of Jonestown, Pennsylvania, identified the place where a cupboard stood: "mending a kitchen cupboard." Among named repairs, the most common one was reattaching a cupboard door. When "hanging cobbard doors" for Asa Rogers in 1809, Scolley and White of Newtown, Connecticut, may have spent as long as half a day at the work, judging by their 50¢ charge. Even more common was the fabrication and installation of new doors. Two craftsmen, Perez Austin of Canterbury, Connecticut, and Elias Savage of Windsor, Vermont, each recorded "making a paniel [panel] Cubboard Dore" for a customer, although whether the panels were recessed (fig. 11) or raised (also fielded, fig. 13) is not indicated. "Two small cubard Dors" supplied by "Skipper" Lunt of Newbury, Massachusetts, in 1767 refurbished Lemuel Fowler's piece of furniture. More extensive work was undertaken in 1840 in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, by Jacob Bachman, who installed "Cupboard Doors, Locks and Hinges" for David Graff. The function of another cupboard was indicated in 1756, when Peter Emerson of Reading, Massachusetts, provided "Doors for [a] Puter Closet" in the home of his father.^[52]

Rather than locks, some cupboard doors were secured by bolts, as recorded in 1833 near Canton, Connecticut, by Samuel Douglas. Another option was the "Cupboard turn," a small pivoting bar of wood attached to the cupboard frame next to a door. The device was supplied to customers in Massachusetts in the 1820s by Luke Houghton of Barre and Moses Parkhurst of Paxton (fig. 13). Other cupboard work was of large scale. "A Camesh [cornice, cornish] for a Cupe boord" was the focus of a 5s. (83 1/2¢) job in 1801 at the Freehold, New Jersey, shop of Alexander Low. Two other shops, those of Luke Houghton in Massachusetts and Moyers and Rich in Virginia, recorded "puting on back on cupboard." In 1816 Nathaniel Bassett sought the services of Abner Taylor at Lee, Massachusetts, for "putting a shelf in a Cupboard." The modest charge for the work was 17¢. Less clear is the nature of Chapman Lee's work for Orlean Prince in 1820 at Charlton, when "puting an End on [a] Cupboard." The 41¢ charge seems low for the structural work involved in replacing an entire end panel. Work to the lower parts of cupboards is described in account entries of two other craftsmen. Job E. Townsend recorded "Laing a floor" in a cupboard in 1789 at Newport, Rhode Island, and five years later Elisha Hawley made a "Cleat for [a] Cubbard" at Ridgefield, Connecticut. The cleat, priced at only a few pennies, may have been a trestle-style foot secured beneath a side panel of the case (fig. 13). Some cupboards had solid doors in the upper stage, whereas others were glazed. As early as 1735 Miles Ward of Salem, Massachusetts, recorded "Glasing a Bofatt" (buffet) for Captain Ebenezer Bowditch (fig. 11).^[53]

Paint was the common surface coating for refinishing the cupboard. Prices for the work indicate the job took anywhere from half a day or less to more than one day. Enos Reynolds of Boxford, Massachusetts, charged the low sum of 66¢ in 1815 for painting a customer's cupboard and table. At the high end was Charles C. Robinson's bill of $1.50 for painting a cupboard at Philadelphia the previous year. Prices would have reflected the size of the cupboard and the number of coats applied. Of particular note is a job recorded by Abberley and Hartley of New York City in 1839 for Miss Sophia Roorbach. The partners charged Roorbach $2.00 for "Painting & Grain'g [graining a] Cubbard" (fig. 11). Repairs sometimes accompanied the work of repainting. Judging by the single reference in this study to "staining [a] Cupboard," that method of recoating a surface appears to have been a limited option. Oliver Moore of East Granby, Connecticut, recorded the job in 1809 at the low cost of 25¢.^[54]

Few entries in craftsmen's accounts make specific reference to the corner cupboard (fig. 12). Undoubtedly, some structures were identified merely as "cupboards" and others were termed "buffets," as suggested in the accounts of Miles Ward of Salem, Massachusetts: "to Dowrs [doors] for Bofut & Cobard." Some corner cupboards were part of the architecture of a room rather than freestanding. Peter Emerson of Reading, Massachusetts, near Boston, completed "work in ye Corner Closet" for his father in 1756 and charged him £2 ($6.68). That sum seems high and may reflect the currency problems of the region at the time. During the early nineteenth century both William G. Beesley of Salem, New Jersey, and Friedrich Bastian of Dauphin County, Pennsylvania, recorded "painting a corner copbord" for $1.50, a charge similar to that for a rectangular closed cupboard.^[55]

The cupboard with recessed, open shelves above an enclosed base was termed a "dresser" in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries (fig. 13). Some cases were of broad form; others were narrow. Dressers were particularly common among the Pennsylvania Germans, although the form was known in New England as well. References in this study identify dressers in New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, rural Pennsylvania, and a Quaker household in Philadelphia. Some of the common wares stored in the dresser for everyday use were pewter dishes, plates, and spoons; knives and two-tined forks; wooden trenchers (platters or plates); lighting devices; coffeemills; and crocks containing foodstuffs.^[56]

Records cite general repairs to three dressers in rural Pennsylvania households, of which two dressers are identified as standing in the kitchen. The kitchen also was the location of a dresser in the Philadelphia home of merchant Stephen Collins. The only named repair is one made at Newport, Rhode Island, by Job E. Townsend in 1785 for Robert Taylor, Esq.: "To mending the Dresser, a floar." The charge was 7s. ($1.17), representing about a full day's work. Like the closed rectangular cupboard, the common surface coating of the refurbished dresser was paint. John Sager painted a dresser in 1810 at Bordentown, New Jersey. When Jacob Bachman carried out the same work several decades later in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, he again identified the place where the open cupboard stood as the kitchen. On two occasions Moody Carr of Rockingham County, New Hampshire, identified the material used in refurbishing a dresser. He charged John Mudget 2s. 9d. (46¢) in 1807 for "paint for Dressers 2 3/4lb." and another 1s. 6d. (25¢) for "putting the paint on myself." The previous year he had supplied paint for a dresser to another customer, who apparently did the work himself. When David Haven of Framingham, Massachusetts, undertook a job of painting "your Dressers" for Levi Metcalf in 1789, the modest charge of 1s. 2d. (19 1/2¢) probably identified cupboards of small size.^[57]

A cupboard alteration recorded in 1818 by Chapman Lee at Charlton, Massachusetts, could apply to any of the cupboard forms discussed so far: "to Cutting Cupboard in two &c." The work cost 25¢ and likely divided the case into separate upper and lower sections. The purpose of the work is not indicated. The owner may have desired more flexibility in moving the tall case, especially through doorways, or he may have wanted to use the two parts of the case independent of one another. An upper cupboard section could have been placed against a wall at the back of a large rectangular table.^[58]

The nature of references to the wardrobe form in craftsmen's accounts and the cost of the work described there indicate that most framed cases used for this purpose were more sophisticated in style and material than the cupboards discussed above (fig. 14). Mahogany is identified as the primary wood of several wardrobes included in this study. The desirability of fine materials for this furniture form is emphasized in a letter written in 1802 by John Hewitt, a cabinetmaker of New York City who at that time was a temporary resident of Savannah, Georgia, to his supplier Matthias Bruen in New York: "I shall take it a particular favour if you will send me as many vineers as will answer for a wardrobe that I have on hand." Hewitt apparently had constructed the carcass and awaited suitable finishing materials, described as "four vineers 4 f[oot] 4 I[nches] Long & 12 Inches wide." Hewitt also indicated that if Bruen "should see a handsome pair of pannels" he "should be glad to have them." Although Hewitt did not indicate what he intended to do with the panels, it is likely he wanted two book-matched veneers for use on the doors of the same wardrobe or another that he intended to build.^[59]

In 1792 Daniel Trotter of Philadelphia repaired "a Mahogany Cloths press" for Stephen Girard, thereby identifying an alternative term for this storage cupboard. A brand-new mahogany wardrobe purchased a few years later, in 1805, by St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia, from John Hockaday was returned the following month for "Extree work" to the drawers, described as "Extree locks, Escutcheons, screws, &c." Because of the size and delicacy of a fine wardrobe, Richard W. Greene of Providence, Rhode Island, elected to have S. and J. Rawson come to the "House" in 1839 to repair his case; the complete charge was $2.00. Just the business of "Hawling [a] Wardrobe," probably at a time of moving eight years earlier, had cost James J. Skerrett, Esq., of Philadelphia $2.50. Skerrett's cabinetmaker, Charles H. White, also charged $1.25 for "Taking Down & Putting up [the] Wardrobe." Two other craftsmen supplied new parts for their clients' wardrobes. David Pritchard provided a "Back for [a] Wardrobe" in 1837 at Waterbury, Connecticut. Four decades earlier George Claypoole of Philadelphia had supplied "a lock for a Cloths press" belonging to merchant Samuel Meredith. Surface refurbishing is addressed in two accounts. On the eve of the Revolution William Savery of Philadelphia charged Joseph Pemberton 5s. (83 1/2¢) for "polishing & Mending a Cloaths Press." More than half a century later J. A. Moricet of New York City repaired, varnished, and "put up a wardrob[e]" for Arthur Bronson for the substantial sum of $16.00.^[60]

Sideboards
The sideboard was a new furniture form in America in the federal period (fig. 15). Repairs to the case, as indicated in materials collected for this study, are recorded from 1781 to 1845. Two references of early date describe alternative serving equipment or furniture. Twice in 1782 Felix Huntington, a cabinetmaker of Norwich, Connecticut, mended a "Server" for his prosperous kinsman Colonel Joshua Huntington. Rather than a sideboard table, the precursor of the sideboard, this item may have been a serving tray; the repairs cost a modest 8d. (11¢) the first time and 1s. 6d. (25¢) later in the year. Clouding the picture, however, is the same 1s. 6d. charge made by Walter Nichols at Newport, Rhode Island, early in 1790 for "mending [a] side board table" for Dr. Isaac Senter. Little more than a year later, Senter purchased what likely was his first sideboard from Samuel Ward of New York City. Rather than a serving and display piece only, the sideboard, with its drawers and cupboards, added a storage function to the household furnishings.^[61]

The cost of general repairs to the sideboard varied from as little as 17¢ to a substantial $7.00. Information illuminating the nature of sideboard work is somewhat more plentiful than for many other furniture forms. Cupboard doors may have received more attention than other parts of the sideboard. Philemon Robbins of Hartford, Connecticut, and Elizur Barnes of Middletown undertook this work. Barnes recorded "mending [a] Side Board Dore & hanging at house" in 1821 at a charge of 34¢ to his client Mrs. Esther Williams. As furniture craftsmen did not ordinarily undertake work at a client's home, Barnes may have made the repairs when he returned to Williams a table for which he had made a new leg. After repairing a door in Nicholas Low's sideboard in January 1798, Jacob Brouwer of New York followed the work a month later by "blocking the side board draw[er]s." The nature of this work is unclear, although Brouwer may have added glue blocks to the underside of the drawers to better secure the bottoms. Four years later Peter Douglass of Philadelphia made a minor repair to "a Side board leg" for merchant Samuel Meredith.^[62]

Several craftsmen identified modest structural additions or improvements to their clients' sideboards. At New York Robert McConachy fitted two sideboards with "Back Boards" in 1808 for merchant and entrepreneur Nicholas Low and charged him $10.00. The price indicates these were ornamental pieces fixed to the upper back edges of the furniture. Three years earlier Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, a cabinetmaker who began his career in New York City, had carried out similar work on a client's sideboard, charging him $3.00. About this time Job Danforth of Providence, Rhode Island, was called upon by James Burrel Jr., Esq., to put "a board in [a] sideboard for decanters." This was a much simpler structure than the rectangular partitions for bottles fitted into sideboard drawers (fig. 15, right detail). The single horizontal board pierced with rectangular or, more likely, circular holes probably was fitted over a narrow ledge inside a drawer. The charge was a low 2s. 6d. (42¢), reflecting the simplicity of the task. Comparable in price at 39¢ was Elizur Barnes's job of "altring shelves in [a] Side Board" for a client at Middletown, Connecticut.^[63]

Considerable activity centered on repairing, replacing, or adding hardware to the sideboard. Several general references to "Triming [a] Sideboard" at a low cost, including one recorded by Robert C. Scadin at Cooperstown, New York, may have identified wooden knobs or, at best, a few circular metal pulls. "Puting New Handles on a Side Board" often accompanied general or other repairs, as indicated in the accounts of Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, and John Collins of Portsmouth, Virginia. A significant amount of sideboard work involved the locking mechanisms and closing devices common to this furniture form. Elizur Barnes of Middletown, Connecticut, mended a "brass lock" in 1823 and reattached it to a customer's sideboard. Other craftsmen supplied new locks, as recorded by Elisha Adams at Boston in 1809 in his accounts with David S. Greenough. In New York City Walter Livingston required only a new "kee" for his sideboard, which Gifford and Scotland supplied for 4s. (67¢). Other closing fixtures varied from bolts to ketches to turn buckles. Casters provided a measure of mobility for the sideboard, as desired in some households. In 1805 Jacob Sass of Charleston, South Carolina, fitted "a set of Castors" to a sideboard owned by his client Peter Trezevant.^[64]

Polishing and varnishing are the two treatments named in refurbishing the surfaces of the sideboard. Polishing a sideboard could cost as little as 50¢, as recorded at Philadelphia by Pennell Beale, or as much as $3.00, reflecting several days' work, as charged by Philemon Robbins in 1834 at Hartford, Connecticut. The more common request among customers was for a coat of varnish, which usually accompanied repairs. Paul Jenkins of Kennebunk, Maine, undertook this work, as did craftsmen on the North Shore of Massachusetts—Thomas Needham and Henry Hubon of Salem and Porter Russell of Newburyport. In New York State George Merrifield varnished customers' sideboards at Albany, and Robert C. Scadin performed similar work at Cooperstown. The combined jobs of repairing and varnishing a sideboard completed at Philadelphia by the firm of Barry and Krickbaum in 1836 cost John Cadwalader, Esq., $5.00. Some measure of surface protection for a new sideboard or a newly polished or varnished one was realized through the use of a sideboard cloth. Elizabeth de Hart Bleecker McDonald, when a new bride in 1800 at New York, chose instead to have a Mrs. Germond come to the house "to fix an Oil Cloth on my Side Board."^[65]

In another dimension to sideboard work, two cabinetmakers who worked at Philadelphia identified tasks that involved an accessory to the sideboard found in some households, the knife case for storing cutlery. Isaac Ashton completed a job for General Henry Knox in 1793 described as "Varnishing 1 Knife Case." Some years later, in 1820, Richard Alexander undertook more extensive work in the city, when "Repairing and Varnishing a pair of Knife Cases" for Mrs. John Francis at a charge of $6.00. The records of Nicholas Low, a successful New York City merchant of the early federal period, provide further insight by identifying a series of household purchases and maintenance work that focuses on sideboards and knife cases. Low's first sideboard may have been the mahogany case purchased from David F. Lanny in December 1794 at a cost of £18. The records are silent on the acquisition of a knife case, although one appears to have been introduced to the household following the purchase of the sideboard because Jacob Brouwer submitted bills to Low for "mending a knife case" in January 1796 and again in June and August 1797. Low added a second sideboard to his furnishings sometime following this work and before November 1808, when Robert McConachy provided ornamental backboards for two sideboards, as described previously. Meanwhile, Brouwer had already submitted bills for "Repairing two knife casses" in July and November 1807. Circumstances in the Low household likely describe related activity in the domestic settings of other affluent families. Knife cases of the early nineteenth century frequently took the form of an urn or an upright box with a slanted lid. A number of skilled craftsmen in London specialized in making this accessory, and it is likely that many cases identified in American settings were imported from that center of fashion. Other records indicate that some knife cases were of domestic origin. Fenwick Lyell, a cabinetmaker who pursued his craft at Middletown, New Jersey, in the early nineteenth century, had some years earlier conducted business in New York City, where he advertised "knife cases made to contain any Number of Knives, forks, or spoons."^[66]

Whether a sideboard was new or in need of repair, it was transported at times to the customer or to a local cabinet shop in a specially constructed packing case to protect the surface and structure during travel by road or water. When John Bunnel bought a new sideboard for £26 ($87.00) from Fenwick Lyell at Middletown, New Jersey, in 1808, he ordered that it be wrapped in a mat and packed in a box for delivery. The further cost for this service was $4.34. At Middletown, Connecticut, Elizur Barnes charged a customer $1.75 for "making Box for Side Board & Packing it at your house" before sending it off in a wagon to the shop. Not all packing was substantial enough to withstand the rigors of sea travel, as John Hewitt found to his dismay at Savannah, Georgia, where he had traveled at the turn of the nineteenth century to retail furniture shipped to him by Matthias Bruen and others from New York City and vicinity. In a letter of 1801 to Bruen, Hewitt stated, "I must get you to send me three sideboards tops for those streat [straight] fronted sideboards that you sent Last, for the tops are split from one end to the other, so that I cannot sell them till there is new tops made for them." Hewitt then added a postscript, advising, "You had better make the sideboard tops with you [at your shop], the sise of them must be five foot Eleven Inches Long when finished By two feet wide outside."^[67]

There were times when even a brand-new sideboard did not quite suit after a few months' use, and the owner took steps to remedy the situation. In August 1794 James Beekman of New York City bought a new sideboard from McEvers and Barclay for £8 ($26.72). By December Beekman had engaged a Mr. Hoes for the work of "altering a side Board bot of McEvers & Barclay" at the cost of another $16.70.^[68]

Clock Cases
Records in this study that provide information on the repair of clock cases indicate that as many as one-fifth of the craftsmen who made case repairs also undertook work on the movement itself. References recording work on the case of a clock are clear-cut. When work on a "clock" is recorded, internal evidence is necessary to determine whether the case or the movement was the subject of repair. The practice of cabinetmakers repairing clock movements appears to have been relatively common in Connecticut, although woodworking craftsmen in New York State and Massachusetts also recorded this activity.

Among Connecticut craftsmen, a straightforward reference to repairing a clock mechanism is that penned in 1837 by Alexander H. Gilbert at Chester: "To mending movement of clock & cleaning $1.34." Samuel Durand of Milford provided clarity in another way: "To repairing clock and case & varnishing." At Wallingford two craftsmen, Titus Preston and John Doolittle, recorded "regulating" and "Cleaning" a clock, respectively. Reuben Loomis performed another type of job for a client in 1801 at Windsor by "altering the clock face & the clock," a job that took "one Day." Seven years later Loomis permitted an indebted customer to earn credit by "Cleaning my Clock & a spindle."^[69]

In Massachusetts Robert Cowan of Salem cleaned a clock in 1802 for Aaron Wait and then finished his work by varnishing the case. The entire job cost $3.00. One of John Roulstone's clients at Boston was merchant Caleb Davis, for whom in 1787 he performed the work of "Clean'g an Eaight Day Clock that Stands on the Stairs" and for which he provided "a new line." Roulstone later accommodated his customer by "Cleaning the Clock in the parlour." Work undertaken by several craftsmen in New York State was comparable. William Bentley of Butternuts (Gilbertsville), Otsego County, repaired a clock movement in 1812 for Cornelius Jenny and charged him 50¢. On occasion Nathaniel Dominy V of East Hampton, Long Island, recorded cleaning a clock. William Kip's work for Robert R. Livingston at Red Hook, along the Hudson River, was more detailed. In May 1833 Kip charged Livingston $1.75 for "Reparing Musical and Hall Clock[s]." He followed this job in November with "Rep'g Parlour and Musical and Hall clocks" for an additional $2.25.^[70]

Craftsmen identified general repairs to clock cases using a variety of terms (fig. 16, fig. 29, right). Most familiar are the words "mend," "repair," and "fix." For example, Slover and Taylor of New York City charged merchant Nicholas Low $1.00 in 1805 for "repairing a Clock Case." In the same period Stephanus Knight of Enfield, Connecticut, and Solomon Cole of Glastonbury employed the phrase "To Work on a Clock Case." Earlier, Jonathan Gavit of Salem, Massachusetts, recorded "a Jobb at your Clock case" and charged Timothy Orne 2s. 4d. (38¢). "Glueing [a] Clock Case" was a simple and inexpensive repair carried out in the 1820s by William Capron at East Greenwich, Rhode Island, and by Miles Benjamin at Cooperstown, New York, who charged 12 1/2¢ for the work. Other calls focused on the case doors. Silas E. Cheney of Litchfield, Connecticut, recorded "aultering dores" in 1800 for his client Elijah Wadsworth. Several craftsmen, including Job Townsend Jr. of Newport, Rhode Island, made general door repairs. At Philadelphia William Savery specifically identified the hinge sites of a door as the location of damage to a clock case owned by merchant Joseph Pemberton. Records indicate that considerable activity also centered on the glass-faced areas of the hood. The work is expressed in several ways. Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, spent part of a day in 1836 "glazing [a] Clock Door." Paul Jenkins of Kennebunk, Maine, and Titus Preston of Wallingford, Connecticut, recorded "setting glass." At Plymouth, Connecticut, Philemon Hinman identified "putty" as one of the essential materials in completing this work. When "Repairing ye head of a Clockcase" for Major Thomas Jones of Northumberland County, Virginia, for the sum of 10s. ($1.67), Henry Mann of Richmond identified a part of the clock case that was the focus of attention by other craftsmen.^[71]

The "head" referred to that part of the clock case identified today as the hood, or bonnet (fig. 16). Craftsmen recorded the replacement of entire heads, although the cost of that work usually was lumped into a more extensive job that encompassed repairs, surface coating, or both. For example, when Moyers and Rich of Wytheville, Virginia, constructed a "new Clock case head" for Daniel Wiseley in 1834, they also varnished the entire case. Two decades earlier at Wallingford, Connecticut, Titus Preston supplied Jotham Tuttle with a new "clock head" and included in the charge "repairing and painting the other part and setting it up." Moving down the case to the waist, or midsection, Abner Taylor of Lee, Massachusetts, completed a simple job in 1818, when "putting a cupboard turn in [a] Clock case." The waist section, top or bottom (fig. 16), may have received the "Moulding round a Clock Case" installed for Matthew Cozzens in 1757 at Newport, Rhode Island, in the shop of Job Townsend Jr. Richard Johns's record of "making a Bottom to the Clock Case" a decade later at Philadelphia for Deborah Morris was not an unusual repair. The interior lines supporting the weights of the movement broke on occasion, causing the heavy metal to crash through the bottom of the lower chamber. Nathaniel Dominy V of East Hampton, Long Island, sought to avoid this mishap in 1842, when "puting a new line in his clock" for Nathaniel Hunting.^[72]

Case feet also were subject to damage. On occasion a single new "Clock Case foot" sufficed, as replaced in 1825 for 50¢ by Thomas Boynton at Windsor, Vermont. At other times a complete new set of supports was required. Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, charged Captain William Gardner 7s. 6d. ($1.25) in 1801 for "Raising his Clock Case with New feet." Although the language was different, the outcome was the same when David Evans of Philadelphia charged a client 12s. 6d. ($2.09) in 1778 for "making a Set of New Clock Case Brackets." Less clear is Benjamin Baker's record of a "mehogni Base for Clock case" made in 1774 at Newport. The cost, recorded in inflated currency, provides little help in determining whether Baker replaced the entire box below the waist section or merely the feet and related structure at the bottom. For the top of the case, three accounts identify new trimmings, or finials, all described as "balls." Silas E. Cheney of Litchfield, Connecticut, charged Daniel Huntington $1.34 in 1807 for "3 Brass Balls for [a] Clock Case" (fig. 16). That sum was on the high side of many a workingman's daily wage. A charge of $1.25 covered another "set of clock ball[s]" in 1824 at the Barre, Massachusetts, shop of Luke Houghton. Three finials priced at 12s. ($2.00) cost somewhat more from Job E. Townsend at Newport in 1801, although the material of all the finials likely was the same.^[73]

Varnish is named slightly more often than paint as the coating material of the refurbished clock case, as indicated in records informing this study. Labor and material charges for varnishing or painting likely were comparable, when circumstances were similar. Jeduthern Avery's bill for "varnishing [a] Clock Case" at Bolton/Coventry, Connecticut, in 1834 was 40¢. At Chester, Alexander H. Gilbert charged only 34¢ for both "cleaning" (probably scraping) and varnishing a case. The cost of "Rubing and Varnishing a Clock Case" at Fenwick Lyell's Middletown, New Jersey, shop several decades earlier was substantially higher at 8s. ($1.34), reflecting the greater amount of labor involved. Frequently, charges for individual tasks were buried in the cost of a larger job, as when Paul Jenkins of Kennebunk, Maine, varnished a clock case for Captain Isaac Downing after setting a glass and making general repairs.^[74]

In 1813 Elihu Harvey, who at that time was boarding with craftsman Jonathan C. Loomis at Whately, Massachusetts, was credited 25¢ for "painting [a] clock case." Based on other records, that figure appears to have been close to the basic charge for this activity. In pursuing that assumption, Thomas Boynton's price of $6.00 for "painting a clock Case" at Windsor, Vermont, for Leonard Spaulding in 1813 is at first difficult to explain. Because Boynton was a chairmaker and a painting specialist, it appears that the charge covered some highly ornamental work, such as grain painting and perhaps simulated inlay. Two other craftsmen recorded another type of work requested on occasion. In 1772 Benjamin Baker, a cabinetmaker of Newport, Rhode Island, debited a local clockmaker, Thomas Claggett, for "polishing [a] Clock Case." Almost two decades later David Evans repaired and polished a walnut clock case for a client at Philadelphia, charging 7s. 6d. ($1.25).^[75]

One chore that regularly brought the furniture maker to the home of his client was that of assembling a clock case and movement. Job E. Townsend, of Newport, Rhode Island, charged a Mr. Martinberry 2s. (33¢) in 1783 for "Setting up a Clock in house." Another local cabinetmaker, Benjamin Baker, used a more common term for this work, when in the same year he charged merchant Jacob Rodriguez Rivera 50¢ for "puting up [a] Clock." As late as 1836 Nathaniel Appleton of Salem, Massachusetts, still employed this term. Jacob Brouwer described a more extensive job at New York in 1814 as "Taking down & putting up a clock" for Nicholas Low. Alternative terminology in the records of Silas E. Cheney at Litchfield, Connecticut, under the date 1800 describes "fastening up [a] Clock" for Elijah Wadsworth. Whether the term "fastening" also identified the process of assembling the case and regulating the clock or described instead a method of securing the case to the interior architecture is unclear. Several reasons are apparent for the need to reassemble a timepiece: repairs made to the case or movement that required disassembly; changing one's place of residence; receiving a timepiece as a bequest; or simply a desire or need to relocate the timepiece to another part of the house. Both Job E. Townsend of Newport and Job Danforth of Providence recorded "moveing [a] clock" for a client. On occasion a timepiece other than the tall case clock is the subject of a written record. In work completed for Thomas Baker in 1825, Nathaniel Dominy V of East Hampton, Long Island, described "seting up Clock and making shelf for it."^[76]

Looking Glasses
Many looking glasses repaired by craftsmen during the late colonial and federal periods were imported from Europe. Merchants found looking glasses a salable item, along with imported textiles, ceramics, metalwares, tea, spices, and other household necessities, although shipping conditions at times were less than ideal. In 1776 Owen Biddle, a Quaker merchant of Philadelphia, engaged David Evans to mend "a Parcel of Looking Glasses" he had imported. Similarly, looking glasses offered for sale by the proprietors of looking glass stores in America were not necessarily of their own manufacture. Two well-known craftsmen in this business advertised imported merchandise in 1784 at Philadelphia. John Elliott Jr. offered a "very neat assortment of looking glasses in mahogany frames" from London, and James Reynolds stocked "a great variety of English, French, and Dutch Looking-Glasses." A decade earlier Reynolds was engaged by merchant Samuel Powel III to make repairs to two groups of looking glasses at a cost of £13.5. and £7.7.6, respectively. The high figures suggest these were imported glasses that had suffered considerable damage rather than furnishings from Powel's own home.^[77]

Most household looking glass repairs recorded in this study were of a modest scope and priced under $1.00, the average cost being less than 50¢ (fig. 17). Few minor repairs are described, although gluing a frame was a recurring task at cabinet shops. John Spurlock made note of "1 Days work glueing a lo[o]king glas & other jobs" at 5s. (83 1/2¢) in 1791 for Major Thomas Jones, a resident of Northumberland County, Virginia. If gluing a frame was insufficient to address a repair problem, the next step might be "fixing [an] iron on [a] looking Glass," as recorded by Nathaniel Dominy V in 1815 at East Hampton, Long Island. Fixed in place with screws, this metal strip could secure a crack or add structural strength to a delicate element, such as a headpiece. Job Danforth recorded a more complete job fourteen years earlier at Providence, Rhode Island, for Jabez Bowen, a wealthy public official and chancellor of Brown University: "To putting a back to a looking glass, to finding screws, to putting up, & gluing frame." The charge was a reasonable 6s. ($1.00). The looking glass could well have been imported; however, the new backing would have been fabricated from a native American wood. In addition to screws, Daniel Trotter of Philadelphia also named "hooks" as a necessary accessory, following the repair of a looking glass for merchant Stephen Girard. A particularly fragile part of a looking glass frame named in a number of accounts is the pediment, or "top." Job Townsend Jr. of Newport undertook to construct "a Top for a Looking glass" in 1752 for a member of the prominent Wanton family at Newport, Rhode Island. At Canaan, Connecticut, Jonathan Gillett referred to the same task several decades later as "Making a Crown to a Looking glass" and charged 9s. ($1.50). Of more specific nature is Jonathan Kettell's record of "Carving a peice for [the] Top [of] your glass" for a customer at Newburyport, Massachusetts.^[78]

Several circumstances dictated the need to frame or reframe a piece of silvered reflecting glass. When Luke Houghton set about "framing [a] looking glass" in 1817 at Barre, Massachusetts, he may have framed either a new or a recycled piece of glass. His charge of 50¢ suggests that the frame was a basic one, little more than a picture frame. This type of work is better detailed in charges posted in 1768 by John Elliott Sr. to the account of the Philadelphia firm of Hollingsworth and Rudolph. The job included "a new Glass put in a frame" and "framing the broken Glass," the charges being £2.14. ($9.02) and 9s. ($1.50), respectively. The cost of the new glass suggests an imported plate of some size. The craft of silvering glass plates was still in its infancy in America, and the resulting products often were imperfect. Because of the cost of silvered glass, broken plates were regularly trimmed and put into new frames. Other framed glasses were altered to fit a special need, as when Philemon Robbins of Hartford, Connecticut, added "pillars & feet to [a] looking glass." The 75¢ charge identifies a small glass altered to stand independently on the top of a chest of drawers or dressing table or a new superstructure for the top of a small dressing box.^[79]

The "supports for looking glasses" that Abraham S. Egerton supplied in 1824 to the household of Nicholas Low in New York City for $2.00 appear to have been another item altogether. Likely these were small stamped or cast brass cloak pins with long shanks, which doubled at times as looking glass supports at the bottom of a frame. Large, heavy glasses, such as the "Pier Glass" and "Chimney Glass" mended by John Elliott Sr. of Philadelphia in 1772 for the wealthy John Cadwalader, were prime candidates for this type of extra support. Elliott appears to have carried out the repair work at his shop rather than at Cadwalader's home because he supplied "A Case & packing D[itt]o" for 10s. ($1.67) to transport the glasses. The chimney glass likely was of horizontal form to hang above a mantelpiece and the pier glass of vertical form to fit the wall space between two windows.^[80]

Several general references to looking glass repair demonstrate further how specialists in this field at Philadelphia and New York City interacted with prominent clients in the 1770s and the early nineteenth century. John Penn, a governor of Pennsylvania and a grandson of the founder, paid James Reynolds 7s. 6d. ($1.25) at Philadelphia in 1771 "for mend'g a Looking Glass." John Elliott Jr., a second-generation looking glass specialist in the city, altered "the frame of a Glass" in 1779 for Hannah Morris, member of a prominent Quaker family. When Charles Del Vecchio of New York City billed James L. Brinckerhoff $10.00 in 1816 for "Repairing Mirrors," he may have described something other than flat-surfaced glasses. Thomas Sheraton commented on the term "mirror" in his Cabinet Dictionary of 1803, calling it "a particular kind of glass, either of convex or concave surface." Today the term "girandole" generally applies to this form, which may also be fitted with candle arms, or "branches." In elucidating further on the subject, Sheraton described how these glasses collected reflected rays of light "into a point, by which the perspective of the room in which they are suspended, presents itself on the surface of the mirror and produces an agreeable effect." As early as 1796 Nicholas Low of New York City owned a pair of girandoles, which he had the firm of Cumberland and Beazor regild "with new branches" for £6 ($20.04).^[81]

Sometimes a looking glass required only a surface coating of varnish on the frame to restore the original luster. The price varied with the size and delicacy of the frame. Elisha H. Holmes of Essex, Connecticut, charged a customer 25¢ in 1826 for "varnishing [a] looking glass frame," a job that required a quarter of a day or less of the craftsman's time. Allen Holcomb's fee was the same at New Lisbon, New York, about a decade earlier for both mending and varnishing a glass. Regilding a frame, sometimes accompanied by varnishing, was another surface treatment requested by clients. This could be an expensive job, depending on the size of the looking glass frame. Charles N. Robinson of Philadelphia repaired and regilded two frames in 1830 for Charles Wistar at a charge of $7.00 apiece. Joshua Ward paid the same price at Salem, Massachusetts, in 1809, when he engaged P. Vannuck, a looking glass specialist, to gild and varnish an "old Looking Glass frame," and again the following year, when Barnard Cermenati gilded another looking glass frame. The firm of Cumberland and Beazor of New York City regilded an elegant pier glass frame in 1796 for merchant Nicholas Low. The charge of £12 ($40.08) also included the installation of a "pannell ornamental top." Without further description it is impossible to know whether the panel was a reverse-painted glass tablet or a board embellished with wooden or composition ornament.^[82]

Miscellaneous Objects
The many small utilitarian and personal items scattered throughout a household that were the province of the woodworker, from fabrication to repair, often are overlooked in furniture studies. This section will highlight a number of those objects, as detailed in craftsmen's accounts when returned to the shop for repairs or refurbishing or when the subject of reinstallation in the client's home. The seven subtopics in this section form somewhat arbitrary groups of objects, the purpose of the divisions being to create more manageable units and to establish reasonable relationships for purposes of discussion within a diverse body of material. The subject matter includes general household objects, kitchen and laundry equipment, handles and gunstocks, hearth equipment, textile equipment, small containers, and personal items.

General Household Objects
The open wooden frame enclosing visual material to be hung on a wall was commonly identified by craftsmen in general terms as a "picture frame," most of the contents subject today only to speculation (fig. 29, center). Specific references in this study identify a map, several portraits, and a group of prints. Most frame repairs probably were of modest scope, although determining factors, such as frame size and degree of embellishment, are usually unknown. William Sherman of Philadelphia noted "1 picture frame Repeared" in 1824 for merchant Stephen Girard at a modest cost of 50¢. The brothers Daniel and Samuel Proud of Providence, Rhode Island, charged a customer a mere 6¢ for "Glewing [a] picture frame." Another type of repair was described by Job E. Townsend of Newport as "framing one Picktur Broking Glass," the cost being 1s. (16 1/2¢). Paint was a common surface finish for a frame. Charles C. Robinson charged 18 1/2¢ in 1821 for "painting a map frame" for a customer at Philadelphia. Four years later Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, charged only 1¢ more to paint "3 picture frames," although their collective dimensions could have equaled that of the map. A larger job recorded by Moyers and Rich of Wytheville, Virginia, and credited to the account of one E. M. D. Reed in 1837 was that of "painting 6 portrait frames" at an allowance of 2s. 3d. apiece, for a total credit of $2.25. Painting a frame sometimes was accompanied by other surface coatings. Stephanus Knight's charge for "painting and guilding a Picture frame" in 1803 for a customer at Enfield, Connecticut, was 1s. 6d. (25¢). A sizable job at Providence in 1789 for Rev. Enos Hitchcock called for Grinnel and Taylor to gild sixteen picture frames, although the individual charge per frame was only 1s. (16 1/2¢). These could well have been small profile, or silhouette, frames. Another job for the cleric involved "Painting, gilding and varnishing a picture frame" for 4s. (67¢). Executed in stages because of the nature of the work, the job took the shop a total of one-half to three-quarters of a day to complete, based on the cost.^[83]

More sophisticated work, again as determined by cost, was undertaken by specialists in the framing and gilding business. In 1815 Charles Del Vecchio of New York City completed an expensive job at $15.00, when "regilding a frame" for Robert L. Livingston, member of a prominent local family. Other specialists were residents of Philadelphia. Charles N. Robinson, a looking glass and picture frame manufacturer, regilded a picture frame for $5.50 in 1836 for Judge John Cadwalader. David Kennedy's charge for "Regilding a Rich portrait frame" in 1821 for John Francis was slightly higher at $7.00. Other work undertaken in the city is of eighteenth-century date. During the 1770s James Reynolds gilded a frame for wealthy Samuel Powel III, who became the first mayor of the city following adoption of the Constitution. Reynolds's contemporary Robert Kennedy (fig. 18) also served Powel and several other prominent citizens of the city: James Hamilton, a provincial governor of Pennsylvania; Edmund Physick, attorney to John Penn, grandson of the founder; and William Barrell, a Quaker merchant. Aside from glazing, gilding, and varnishing clients' picture frames, Kennedy also repaired, cleaned, and glazed their framed prints.^[84]

Window blinds were desirable covers for controlling the heat of the summer sun and assuring privacy year-round. Thomas Sheraton identified two types of blinds in use in his Cabinet Dictionary of 1803: "a plain rolling blind," likely made of canvas, and a "Venetian blind." The early Venetian blind, a European accessory composed of wooden slats, appears to have been of fixed position until 1757, when a French craftsman advertised a movable blind. Ten years later, in 1767, John Webster, an upholsterer who emigrated from London to Philadelphia, advised that he retailed "the newest invented Venetian sun blinds for windows . . . stained to any color, moves to any position, so as to give different lights, screens from the scortching rays of the sun, draws a cool air in hot weather, draws up as a curtain, and prevents from being overlooked [provides privacy], and is the greatest preserver of furniture of anything of the kind ever invented." Most material in this study referencing the repair of blinds appears to refer to the Venetian blind. Initially that blind was something of a luxury item, but by the second quarter of the nineteenth century expanded production and mechanization made the product more affordable. The Venetian blind illustrated in figure 19 is an original window cover from the residence of John Imlay, a Philadelphia merchant who retired and built a house at Allentown, New Jersey, sometime between 1790 and 1794.^[85]

As early as 1775 William Savery of Philadelphia recorded a charge of 10s. ($1.67) against the account of Joseph Pemberton for "Peicing 2 Window Blinds & fixing them & 4 hooks for D[itt]o" followed by "Painting D[itt]o." The nature of the work and the cost indicate that the window covers were more than plain, rolling blinds. Piecing was necessary to repair wooden slats that had broken. Adding new wood dictated that all the slats be painted because paint still was hand-mixed by the job and exact matches were difficult to achieve. More than two decades later David Evans of the city left no doubt about the nature of work he completed for Ann Head: "Repair'd . . . 2 Venetian blinds, Painted & new hung with tossils &c." Handsome embellishments, such as tassels, were readily available in the city, as advertised in 1797 by C. Alder, an upholsterer: "Fringes, linens and tassels imported and manufactured as usual." Within several years Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, completed a job of "New Hanging and Painting 2 Sets of Blinds" for Jane Micheau for which he also provided "2 tossels." The charges for Evans's and Lyell's work at $12.53 and $5.34, respectively, support the reality that Venetian blinds were indeed luxury goods. By the 1820s and 1830s the cost of owning and refurbishing Venetian blinds was more moderate. Robert C. Scadin of Cooperstown, New York, recorded painting and trimming blinds for $2.75, the trimming probably describing new tapes. Even more reasonably priced at 92¢ was a job that Elisha H. Holmes undertook at Essex, Connecticut, for widow Polly Hayden, when "Makeing 22 pieces for venitian blinds" and providing six brackets.^[86]

A complement to some blinds, and to some window curtains, was a cornice. In 1806 Jacob Sass of Charleston, South Carolina, repaired a cornice for Peter Trezevant, although most general cornice work appears to have focused on restoring the surface with paint. This was the type of work carried out by Timothy and John Minott in 1796 at Boston and by George Landon in 1818 at Erie, Pennsylvania. Prices per cornice varying from 50¢ to more than $1.00 indicate that not all cornices were plain-painted. Thomas Boynton, when working in Boston early in his career, described "ornamenting and varnishing a set of cornices," although the nature of the ornament is not indicated. Charles N. Robinson of Philadelphia identified another type of ornament in 1825, when he recorded "Regilding & repairing Cornices" for James J. Skerrett.^[87]

A variety of miscellaneous household items received the attention of the worker in wood and related materials. Many recorded jobs represent single references only, such as Richard Johns's note made at Philadelphia in 1767 of "fixing up the Shell Work" for Deborah Morris. This may have been a boxed ornament to hang on the wall, with or without a candle arm. Another infrequent call is represented in Michael Allison's record of "Repairing [a] Hat Stand" at New York in the early nineteenth century. When Grinnell and Taylor refurbished the surface of another household item at Providence, Rhode Island, they described the work as "Painting a Wine Cooler twice over." Close, if not similar, in form and function was the wine cistern repaired at New York in 1797 by Jacob Brouwer. Both objects were receptacles for wine in the bottle. When the terms "cooler" and "cistern" were not used interchangeably, the cooler may have been distinguished by the presence of a cock to drain water from the tub-shaped or chest-shaped form. The wine cooler, or cistern, was at times an accompaniment to the sideboard and stood on the floor beneath the center section.^[88]

Kitchen and Laundry Equipment
The kitchen, and adjacent areas in some households, was the principal center of domestic activity during the period covered by this study. The repair and maintenance of household equipment were well within the scope of the woodworking craftsman, whether in a rural or urban location. Because breadmaking was an activity central to most homes, craftsmen's records identify a variety of pertinent equipment. Essential to the breadmaking process was the "bread trough," also known as a "kneeding trough" and a "dough tray," a large box with canted sides that was placed on a table or supported independently on long legs (fig. 20). Some dough troughs had wooden covers that also served as surfaces for shaping the bread loaves and preparing other baked goods. Aside from general repairs to the bread trough, which many shops reported, Abner Taylor of Lee, Massachusetts, identified the common task of "putting [a] Bottom to [a] Bread trough." His charge of 17¢ for the job was comparable to that of John Durand at Milford, Connecticut, for similar work. Another craftsman, Luke Houghton, supplied a "cover to [a] bread trough" for widow Abigail Wheeler at Barre, Massachusetts, again at a nominal charge. Of related form to the board-type cover, if not the entire dough box, was the "Break [brake] for to make bread upon" repaired in 1757 for the household of Jacob Rodriguez Rivera at Newport, Rhode Island, by Job Townsend Jr. Some bread troughs appear to have been placed in service without a finish on the wood; others received a coat of paint. Hiram Taylor of Chester County, Pennsylvania, painted a customer's bread trough in 1835 following unnamed repairs.^[89]

The miscellany of other breadmaking equipment noted in craftsmen's accounts includes the peel, a flat, long-handled, shovel-like implement used to insert and remove loaves of bread and other baked goods from a masonry oven. Elisha Hawley mended a peel for a customer at Ridgefield, Connecticut, in 1787 and charged him 3s. (50¢). A few years earlier Daniel and Samuel Proud of Providence, Rhode Island, provided a customer with "an Oven led [lid] for [the] bakehouse," probably to replace a broken or charred one, at a time when the brothers also supplied a "Lage Led [large lid] to a Chest for the Bake House." A "Bread tray" figures in craftsmen's accounts on occasion. William Lander of Salem, Massachusetts, repaired one as early as 1739 for Captain Joseph Bowditch. Many years later, in 1804, Reuben Loomis noted a similar job at Suffield, Connecticut. Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, recorded another type of work, when in 1827 he was asked to "ornament [a] Bread tray." At a cost of 17¢, the design likely was as simple as that illustrated in figure 21, which decorates a tray that may have served at times as a bread tray. In the early nineteenth century two Massachusetts craftsmen, Lewis Chandler Jr. of Bernardston and Daniel Ross of Ipswich, made repairs to a specialized baking accessory, the "gingerbread board," or "mould" (fig. 22). Housewives and bakers used these carved, ornamental boards to impress a design into a type of gingerbread that was rolled flat and baked hard, perpetuating a tradition brought from Europe. The gingerbread board illustrated in figure 22 originated in New York, a city that even in the early nineteenth century retained strong elements of its Dutch heritage.^[90]

Somewhat more substantial than the tasks of repairing and supplying parts for breadmaking equipment was the craftsman's work on another household fixture—the churn. Of the many references informing this study, only one may refer to the rotary churn, a barrel-shaped chamber elevated on legs, with a handle or crank at one end. Hiram Taylor, a craftsman of Chester County, Pennsylvania, recorded "turning [a] handle for Churn" in 1836 for a female customer. Craftsmen directed major attention instead to the upright churn, a tapered cylindrical, stave-formed container with a central hole in the top to accommodate a "staff" fitted with a "dasher," or "dash," at the bottom for agitating milk or cream in the butter-making process. Three components of the upright churn, the top (also called a "cover"), the staff, and the dasher were the focus of repairs and replacements recorded by woodworkers.^[91]

Three Connecticut craftsmen, Elisha Hawley of Ridgefield, Samuel Douglas of New Hartford/Canton, and Titus Preston of Wallingford, along with two Rhode Island woodworkers, Job Danforth and Job E. Townsend, recorded making a replacement top for the churn. Only Preston noted a specific charge of 6d. (about 8 1/2¢) for the top alone. The staff, basically a cylindrical stick, appears to have been more durable, as there are few references to its replacement. In one instance Reuben Loomis, when working at Suffield, Connecticut, in 1820, recorded making a "churn staff & dasher for [a] stone[ware] churn" at a cost of 38¢. The dasher was the focus of most of the reported work to the churn. Craftsmen in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Jersey repaired or replaced this component. Aaron Ogden of Newark, New Jersey, recorded a job in 1817 "to fix [a] Churn Dash" at a cost of 1s. 3d. (21¢). Jesse Tuttle's charge for this work at North Haven, Connecticut, a year earlier was only 9d. (12 1/2¢). Like the bread trough, some churns were painted. The cost of this work in the early nineteenth century varied significantly, suggesting that size could be a factor—the small upright churn versus the large rotary model. Josiah P. Wilder painted a churn at New Ipswich, New Hampshire, for 13¢, whereas John Ellinger's charge at Palmyra in eastern central Pennsylvania was 25¢. George Landon, a woodworker at Erie in the far northwest of the state, charged 50¢ for the job.^[92]

The use of trays in the home frequently revolved around the service of tea (fig. 29, center). That focus is reinforced in Sheraton's description of these serving pieces as "boards with rims round them on which to place glasses, plates, and tea equipment." Sheraton further noted that tea trays were of "various shapes and sizes." Craftsmen's records indicate that repairs to "tea bords" were not uncommon. Nehemiah Munroe of Boston mended two boards in 1788 for Major William Erving of neighboring Roxbury at a cost of 2s. (33¢). More specific tasks included a "Tea board Glued & Clined [cleaned]" at Portsmouth, Virginia, in 1791 by Robert Borland and the work of Job Townsend Jr. in "Pollishing a Large Tea Board" at Newport, Rhode Island. One craftsman, Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, referred to this serving form as a "tea waiter" when billing a customer in 1816 for repainting.^[93]

Trays or traylike forms were used for other purposes. Job E. Townsend of Newport made note in 1821 of "Making a New Bottom to [a] Chopping Tray" for 25¢. The word "voider," a term dating from the Middle Ages although still in use in the eighteenth century, often identified a tray of some size used particularly in clearing away dirty dishes, utensils, and waste food from the table. In 1790, shortly after joining the new federal government at New York, General Henry Knox paid a visit to the shop of Isaac Nichols, where he purchased "one uncommon Large mahogany voider" for £1.10 ($5.00) and a smaller one in mahogany for 18s. ($3.00). Mrs. Knox thought better of the purchase, however, as described by Nichols in his accounts: "To altering the large voider and making Two of it by order of Mrs. Knox." The further charge was 8s. ($1.34). The large tray may well have proven awkward and heavy for servants, when in service.^[94]

Woodenware containers met various needs in the home. To extend the life of these utensils and perhaps for the sheer joy of adding color to ease the drudgery of daily life, many examples were painted and repainted. Reuben Loomis applied paint to a pail (fig. 23) and a washtub in 1811 for a customer at Wethersfield, Connecticut. Three years later James Gere of Groton posted 12¢ to a customer's account for painting a keg. During the 1820s Luke Houghton of Barre, Massachusetts, and Allen Holcomb of New Lisbon, New York, each charged a customer for painting a bowl, the charges being 6¢ and 12 1/2¢, respectively. Houghton's work also included repainting a pail for 17¢. A request for an alteration was described by Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, as "making two Washing Tubbs out of a Barrell."^[95]

Aside from washtubs, a variety of laundry equipment was part of the large miscellany of domestic items repaired or refurbished by the woodworker. Of some consequence in the early nineteenth century, given the number of repairs recorded, was the "washing machine," a piece of household equipment that received considerable attention from would-be patentees. These early "machines" consisted of a large tub with a drain, which was elevated on legs or placed on a low table. Agitation was produced through the use of a cranked handle or some type of spring action. Repairs might cost 1s. (16 1/2¢) or less, as recorded by Jesse Tuttle at New Haven, Connecticut, or as much as $2.50, the charge made by Nathan Lucas at Kingston, Massachusetts, for "repairing a Wash Machine." Other laundry equipment in need of attention on occasion was the clotheshorse, a rack for drying garments indoors. Both urban and rural craftsmen made repairs. George Claypoole mended a clotheshorse at Philadelphia for merchant Samuel Meredith; Phillip Filer undertook similar work at his shop near Rome, New York. At Litchfield, Connecticut, a center of county government, Silas E. Cheney recorded "painting [a] close hors white." Another craftsman, Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, was engaged by a customer to repair an "Ironing Board," typically a length of padded board placed for use on the surface of a table. The Philadelphia book of prices for 1772 describes ironing boards from four feet to six feet in length, with the option of purchasing a pair of "trussels," or trestles, for support.^[96]

Householders requested that local woodworkers repair a variety of equipment useful in the kitchen in the preparation of food and drink. One of the most consistent requests was to repair a coffeemill (fig. 29, lower right). Most repairs were of nominal cost and unspecified nature. An exception is Nathaniel Dominy V's "repair [of a] Coffe mill" in 1818 for Sarah Gardiner at East Hampton, Long Island, at a cost of 4s. (67¢), suggesting that the damage was significant. More descriptive is the work of two Rhode Island cabinetmakers, both jobs completed in 1798 and each at a cost of 1s. 6d. (25¢). Job Danforth of Providence supplied "a bottom to a Coffee mill," whereas Job E. Townsend of Newport dealt with the mechanism in "Sharping" a coffeemill. Some years earlier, in 1780, Townsend had made a "Coffemill Box" for another customer. The 3s. (50¢) charge suggests that Danforth's later use of the term "bottom" described a replaced part rather than the entire wooden structure.^[97]

Danforth and Townsend also directed their attention to the repair of a kitchen gadget popularly named "Squash Squeezers," a piece of hand equipment for squeezing juice from lemons and limes for use in cooking, baking, and the preparation of punch drinks. Alternatively identified as lemon or lime squeezers, the implement could be simple in from—a two-part hinged block shaped on the interior with a hemispherical dome opposite a complementary hollow, each part of the block having a handle extending from the end opposite the hinge for applying pressure when squeezing—to the more complex equipment illustrated in figure 24. This platform squeezer, with interior space for a bowl, introduced greater efficiency to the process, especially when juice in quantity was required. Two Pennsylvania craftsmen made repairs to other equipment of general or special use in the kitchen. Abraham Overholt, who worked in the area of Bedminster, Bucks County, "repaired a pair of butter molds" in 1798 for Karla Zelner. John Ellinger's work centered on "Mending [a] Pealing Machine" for Jacob Early at Palmyra, Lebanon County.^[98]

Several repair jobs describe other domestic activity in the kitchen. In 1822 Elizur Barnes of Middletown, Connecticut, recorded "putting Leggs to [a] Bottle Drainer" at 25¢ for a local customer. More than a quarter century earlier, Daniel and Samuel Proud of Providence, Rhode Island, accommodated a client by "fixing [a] Rowl [roll] for [a] towell." At Newport Samuel Mosers sought the services of Benjamin Baker in 1770 for the repair of a "Candil Mold," a reminder that in the pre-Revolutionary period candlemaking was as much an urban as a rural household task.^[99]

Handles and Gunstocks
The large number of references in craftsmen's accounts to the replacement of teapot handles describes the vulnerability of this appendage. Unknown is the exact style of any given pot or handle and, with a few exceptions, the metal of fabrication. References range geographically from Vermont to Virginia, with both rural and urban locations represented. The reference period extends from 1741 to 1829, with all but a few dates falling before 1800. The price range of most handles was 12 1/2¢ to 50¢, although three-quarters of the handles in this group actually were priced on the low side, between 12 1/2¢ and 25¢. Of the three silver teapots identified, the cost of new handles for two of them falls on the high side in this general group. At Newport, Rhode Island, Job E. Townsend charged Mary Collins 2s. (33¢) in 1795 to replace the wooden handle in her silver teapot. Job Danforth of Providence recorded "putting [a] handle to [a] Silver Pot" in 1804 for Jabez Bowen at a cost of 2s. 6d. (42¢). Among Danforth's other clients were two local pewterers, William Billings and Gershom Jones, for whom he provided teapot handles during the 1790s, presumably for new pots, priced at 1s. (16 1/2¢) and 1s. 6d. (25¢), respectively. Given those prices, it would appear that many teapots taken to woodworkers' shops for replacement handles were made of pewter. Metal handles for teapots, either of pewter or silver, were uncommon before the 1810s.^[100]

Craftsmen shaped handles for teapots to various profiles. Basic is the C-shape (or ear shape, fig. 25), sometimes modified by an angular top. The S-shape profile is still more complex and varies in length with the design of the pot. Small spurs, or carved projections (fig. 25), often embellish either shape. At a cost of 7s. 5d. ($1.24), "a kink teapot handle" made by Joshua Delaplaine in New York City for a Dr. Brownjohn in 1741 appears to have been the most expensive type. The kink handle was formed either with a compound curve, consisting of a long S-shape profile at the top and a short reverse C-shape at the bottom, or an S-curve with an angular return at the bottom into the lower handle socket. Almost certainly Dr. Brownjohn's teapot was made of silver. Another "handle for [a] Silver tea pot" made half a century later, in 1791, at Portsmouth, Virginia, by Robert Borland cost merchant Richard Blow 6s. ($1.00). A second replacement part for a teapot is described in the records of Job Townsend Jr. of Newport, Rhode Island, both as "a Nub for the Top" and "a Top of a Tea pot."^[101]

A few references identify handles for coffeepots. Some are priced in a low range below 1s. (16 1/2¢). An entry in the accounts of Daniel Trotter, "To fixing a handle in a Coffee pot" for Philadelphia merchant Stephen Girard in 1790, suggests by the wording and the cost at 1s. 3d. (21¢) that the handle was not new but simply refastened in its sockets. A handle made for a coffeepot by another Philadelphia craftsman, Samuel Matthews, for merchant and public official Charles Norris and a handle made by Samuel Cheever of Salem, Massachusetts, for merchant John Derby likely were installed on silver pots, given the charges of 5s. (83 1/2¢) and 75¢, respectively. Support for those identifications exists in the work of Henry Mann of Richmond, Virginia, who put "a Handle to a Silver Coffee pott" for the sum of 6s. ($1.00). Size, embellishment, and material would account for the differences in price between these three new handles.^[102]

Besides the teapot and coffeepot, a variety of other domestic equipment required new handles from time to time. Craftsmen recorded a moderate business in producing long, turned handles for warming pans (fig. 26). The usual cost varied from 12 1/2¢ to 39¢, although one example was priced as high as 83 1/2¢. Choice of wood, degree of turned embellishment, and the extent of correlated repair work dictated the cost. As recorded in this study, craftsmen from New England to the South engaged in this work. In 1762 John Durand recorded "puting a handle into a warming pan" for 1s. 6d. (25¢) at coastal Milford, Connecticut. During the period of the Revolutionary War, General John Cadwalader of Philadelphia sought the services of Jacob Falconer in rural Kent County, Maryland, on the Chesapeake Bay for putting "one handl in a warming pann." Even as late as 1829 George Landon answered a request for a "warming pan handle" at Erie, Pennsylvania, a gateway to the western states and territories.^[103]

Craftsmen installed handles on a miscellany of other domestic utensils. Most handles discussed here were turned to form and of nominal cost, 18¢ and less. Heading the list is the dipper, a type of ladle, frequently of large size. The Rhode Island shops of Daniel and Samuel Proud and Job E. Townsend replaced handles on dippers in the 1790s and later. Townsend's father, Job Townsend Jr., had earlier provided a customer with "a Punch Laddle Handle." In the early post-Revolutionary period several households required handles for chafing dishes. Daniel Ross responded by providing a customer at Ipswich, Massachusetts, with four handles. At Dartmouth, Lemuel Tobey recorded "Turning 2 Chafin Dish handles" for John Blackwell, a customer who earlier had acquired a new teapot handle at the shop. The most expensive handle purchase recorded in this study was that of Christopher Bubier of Marblehead, who paid 5s. (83 1/2¢) in 1745 for "a Handle for a Frying pan" at the shop of Joseph Lindsey.^[104]

Apart from domestic repairs, individuals approached the woodworker, whether in rural or urban locations, to undertake work on their firearms, namely the "gun" (fig. 29, upper right) and the "pistol." Few records provide more than a basic description of the work. Typical is that of James Gillingham of Philadelphia, who charged merchant William Barrell 15s. ($2.50) in 1766 for "Repairing [a] gunstock." Job E. Townsend provided somewhat more information at Newport, Rhode Island, in 1779, when "Mending a gun and Making a ramer for Ditto," which cost William Roberson 7s. ($1.17). Other records include repairs made by Elisha Hawley at Ridgefield, Connecticut, and Nathaniel Heath at Warren, Rhode Island. In one instance, Judkins and Senter of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, described their repair work as "peicing [a] Gun Stock." On other occasions the work required completely "new Stocking a Gun," as recorded by Shaw and Chisholm at Annapolis, Maryland. When Samuel Douglas of New Hartford/Canton, Connecticut, undertook to polish a gun for Arnold Crane in 1813, the work may have included both the wooden and metal parts of the firearm. Requests for pistol repairs were fewer than those for the gun. Daniel Ross mended "a pistol Stock" at Ipswich, Massachusetts, in 1786 for Aaron Smith for the modest sum of 8d. (11¢). The previous year Ross had mended a gunstock for the same client. More detailed is Titus Preston's record of work performed at Wallingford, Connecticut, in 1814 for Samuel Cook. Preston apparently was concerned that his customer would question the 3s. (50¢) charge. Consequently, he took the unusual step of including an explanation in his account book: "by peicing a pistol stock & making a rammer which took me more than four hours steady labor."^[105]

Hearth Equipment
References in this study identify repair work to the fire screen between 1784 and 1810, although each reference is without further description. Whereas most repair costs were minimal, identification of the screens' owners, who resided from New England to Virginia, suggests that all the screens were relatively sophisticated pole stands supported on tripod bases to which was attached some type of adjustable shield to protect the face from the heat of the hearth. At Boston David S. Greenough, Esq., engaged Elisha Adams to mend a "fire screne." Job E. Townsend carried out related work at Newport, Rhode Island, for Captain John Oldfield. In western Connecticut Silas E. Cheney mended a fire screen for Tapping Reeve, founder of the Litchfield Law School. Prominent Philadelphia cabinetmaker Thomas Affleck made repairs to a fire screen for General John Cadwalader in 1784 as well as to the general's basin stand. Cadwalader purchased no fewer than five fire screens during the early 1770s, one from Robert Jewell at a cost of £3 ($10.00) and four others from Affleck described as "Mahogany" and priced individually at £2.10 ($8.35). The Philadelphia book of prices for 1772, which lists a fire screen at Affleck's price, identifies the form as having claw feet "with leaves on the knees." Circa 1789 Richard Blow, a merchant of Portsmouth, Virginia, paid Robert Borland to mend a fire screen. Perhaps this was one of the two screens Blow purchased in 1785 from George Seddon and Son of London, whose invoice describes "2 face screens on Claws green silk mounts" (screens).^[106]

In addition to the fire screen, craftsmen's accounts identify a piece of hearth equipment of a more ordinary stamp termed a "fireboard," also known today as a chimney board (fig. 27). Construction consisted of either an open frame stretched with a piece of canvas or two or more horizontal (or vertical) boards butted together. The references at hand appear to describe board construction. Fireboards were made to fit into a hearth opening or provided with some type of support at the bottom to stand independently on the hearth. The purpose of a fireboard was to cover a hearth opening in a parlor or chamber during the summer months, when there was no fire. The board helped to secure a room, and the house, against the intrusion of birds, insects, dampness, and soot. Undoubtedly, some boards were plain painted. Many more, perhaps, were hand decorated or stenciled with a variety of ornament, including pots of flowers, flowering trees, fruits, animals, birds, land-, marine-, and townscapes, classical motifs, and trompe l'oeil subjects, some depicting ceramic tiles.^[107]

Making a new fireboard, painting it, and adding decoration could cost almost half the price of a new mahogany fire screen. Elisha Adams's charge for a fireboard made in 1811 at Boston for David S. Greenough, Esq., was $4.00. Although there is no indication how Greenough's board was embellished, the records of John Derby of neighboring Salem provide some insight. In 1791 the merchant engaged Robert Cowan, an artist of Scottish birth, to paint a landscape on a fireboard, probably provided by Derby, and paid him £1.9.7 ($4.94) for the work.^[108]

Several craftsmen recorded "Mending [a] fire Bord," including Benjamin Bardine of East Greenwich, Rhode Island, and Phillip Filer, near Rome, New York. Both men charged 1s. (16 1/2¢) for their work. The need for an alteration to a fireboard prompted Dr. Charles Dyer to seek the services of Elizur Barnes in 1823 at Middletown, Connecticut. Barnes charged Dyer 25¢ for a "Job at house Plaining Flore & Sawing Fire board for handiron" (andirons). Two spaced slots at the bottom of a board permitted the use of andirons as a support for the heavy hearth cover, when it was not fitted into the hearth opening. Several craftsmen refurbished the surfaces of fireboards with paint or varnish. Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, recorded charges in the 1810s of 25¢ to 33¢, representing in time, perhaps, something less than a quarter of his working day. This may have been sufficient time to undertake some modest decoration, or touch up, given that the typical working day could have been as long as ten hours. Allen Holcomb of New Lisbon, New York, also recorded painting several fireboards, one identified as green.^[109]

A miscellany of references identifies repairs to other objects identified with the hearth. The hand bellows is the subject of several notations. Silas E. Cheney mended a "pare [of] blelloses" in 1799, as he entered business at Litchfield, Connecticut. David Evans, a Quaker craftsman of Philadelphia, made a handle for a bellows belonging to Benjamin Rittenhouse and charged him 2s. 6d. (42¢). Somewhat more expensive at 4s. (67¢) was the "new top to a Mohogony Bellosses" that Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, made in 1783 for John Bass. Another accessory for the hearth was the fire fender George Landon painted green for a customer at Erie, Pennsylvania. Although not strictly an accessory of the hearth, the "foot stove" (foot warmer) that George Merrifield repaired at Albany, New York, for H. B. Haswell utilized coals from the hearth as its heat source.^[110]

Textile Equipment
A survey of textile equipment repaired by woodworkers indicates that the spinning wheel received the most attention. Of the two types of wheel in use, the flax, or little, wheel was the subject of repair more than twice as often as the wool, or great, wheel. In neither case is the material of fabrication indicated. References to wheel repair appear in accounts in the New England and the Middle Atlantic regions. Lack of insight on Southern activity is merely a shortcoming of the data collected for this study. Unlike the wool wheel, the flax wheel was known by many names (fig. 28): "little wheel," "linen wheel," "Dutch wheel," "foot wheel," "chair wheel," and "spinning wheel." Of the group, "spinning wheel" was the common generic term. "Linen" describes the spun thread of the spinning wheel, which when woven produced linen cloth. "Dutch" describes the general European inspiration for the apparatus, with its prominent tilted table. "Foot" and "chair" describe the operation of the wheel; the spinner put into motion a foot treadle while seated in a chair.

Data for the study of flax-wheel repairs cover more than one hundred years, from 1731, when Jacob Hinsdale of Harwinton, Connecticut, provided Robert Webster with "a head for [a] Wheal" (possibly a wool wheel) at 8d. (11¢), to 1843, when Josiah P. Wilder made general repairs to a "spinning wheel" for Nathan P. Cummings at New Ipswich, New Hampshire. Because the flax wheel was essential to the domestic economy of many households, it was in frequent use, resulting in high demand for repair work. Charges ranged from a low of 4d. (6¢) to a high of more than $2.00, although forty-two percent of the priced jobs cost the customer 25¢ or less. Raising the upper limit of priced repairs to 50¢, or about a half day's work, represents fifty-nine percent of the total recorded in this study. Most expensive at 13s. ($2.17) was a job undertaken in 1800 by Jonathan Dart at New London, Connecticut, for George Daniels: "to Repairing foot wheel, all new but the Rim, Crank, and spindle." In carrying out this work, the wheel rim, made of several curved sections (felloes) butted together and secured with internal pins, or tenons, would have been disassembled to install a new nave and supporting spokes. The crank, a small, curved iron piece keyed to the end of a shaft through the nave, imparted motion to the wheel when a long stick, called a footman, was activated by the foot treadle. The spindle is a short, horizontal spool mounted between two short, upright posts forward of the wheel. Basically, Dart delivered his customer a new spinning wheel. The reconstruction cost compares closely with the cost of new flax wheels at 13s. 4d. ($2.23) supplied in 1763 and 1769 by Robert Crage of Leicester, Massachusetts, and a spinning wheel priced at $2.00 made by Nathan Lucas of Kingston in 1823.^[111]

Because spinning wheel nomenclature used by craftsmen was variable, it is not always possible to determine exactly what part was repaired or replaced. Fortunately, the confusion is limited to the spinning mechanism forward of the wheel, consisting of two short, turned, upright posts (maidens) supporting between them a turned cross member (the bobbin) and a large C-shaped piece known as the flyer. The flyer both spins the flax into thread and winds it on the bobbin. In his accounts for 1811 Abraham Overholt of Bedminster, Pennsylvania, recorded the following work: "I made a large spinning wheel flyer for Philiph Kraut and turned two spools [and] two maidens." "Spool" was an alternative term for the bobbin, along with "quill" and, on occasion, "spindle." Some years later, in 1828, Overholt recorded a related job: "I turned six spools and put leather into the maidens for David Hoch" at a cost of 7¢. The leathers formed the connection between the maidens and the spool. Samuel Fithian Ware of Cape May County, New Jersey, a contemporary of Overholt, identified another part of the spinning mechanism, when he recorded "to turning whirl to wheel" and charged his customer 12 1/2¢. The whorl, a small cleft disk adjacent to one end of the bobbin, or spool, provided the track that enabled the driving cord from the wheel to transfer power to the spinning mechanism.^[112]

Another vulnerable part of the spinning wheel was the wheel itself. Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, and his contemporary Titus Preston of Wallingford, Connecticut, provided one or more new "spokes" for clients' wheels in the early nineteenth century at a unit cost of 8¢ to 13¢. In the same period Moody Carr of Rockingham County, New Hampshire, recorded "mending [a] rim to a wheel." John Paine's work for Ezra L'hommedieu at Southold, Long Island, was of greater scope in supplying both "1 spoke [and] 1 feler" for 4s. 6d. (75¢). The feler, or felloe, was one of the several curved sections that form the rim of a wheel. Repair or replacement of the foot assembly engaged other craftsmen. Robert Crage of Leicester, Massachusetts, pursued this work in 1763, and Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, noted calls in 1787 and 1791 for making or mending a "foot to a Wheal." At East Hampton, Long Island, Nathaniel Dominy V had many requests for mending or supplying a "footboard." One request called for more extensive work in providing a "transum & footboard to [a] Dutch wheel." The transom is the transverse piece of the treadle assembly at either side of the footboard.^[113]

The wool, or great, wheel is a much simpler and larger machine than the flax wheel. Its large wheel rim is formed of splint, a thin, wide supple strip of wood bent to form. An upright post forward of the wheel accommodates a simple head with a horizontal spindle for spinning woolen yarns. In lieu of a treadle, the standing spinner turns the wheel by hand. Whereas Robert Crage of Leicester, Massachusetts, charged 13s. 4d. ($2.23) for his flax wheels in the pre-Revolutionary years, the cost of his wool wheels in that period was about half the figure, at 6s. 8d. ($1.11).^[114]

Repairs to the great wheel, when specified, involved new parts more commonly than the repair of damaged components. Among actual repairs, Samuel Douglas of New Hartford/Canton, Connecticut, identified work on the "head of a Great Wheel." John Paine of Southold, Long Island, repaired a wheel rim for each of two customers. Perhaps his work paralleled that of Abraham Overholt of Bedminster, Pennsylvania, who made two splints for the rim of a wool wheel owned by Henrich Meyer.^[115]

The majority of newly fabricated parts for the wool wheel were for the wheel itself. Nathaniel Dominy V recorded newly "riming a Woolen Wheel" at East Hampton, Long Island, where in the 1810s he also installed new "axeltrees" in wheels for several other customers. Alexander Low of Freehold, New Jersey, was one of a number of craftsmen to supply "spoks to a wool whell." The fabrication method was turning, as identified by Abraham Overholt of Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Another turned part supplied by Overholt was "a pulley for a wool wheel," a part identified as a "whorl" by Dominy and by Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island. Dominy also is the only craftsman who indicated that he fabricated a new leg for a wool wheel.^[116]

Craftsmen's records identify a variety of devices used to reel yarns into skeins for dyeing and storage before winding into balls for handwork or onto bobbins for weaving. Although many repaired reels are not further identified, a small body of material relates to repairs to the clock reel. This upright apparatus supported on a low platform has a box at the top of the vertical shaft on which is mounted a wheel nave containing from four to six turned, radiating, T-shaped arms. Interior gearing operates a small external clock hand mounted over a paper or painted clock face used to count the wheel revolutions, thereby measuring the yardage, whether a skein (560 yards) or lesser amount of yarn. Philip Deland of West Brookfield, Massachusetts, identified the cost of a new apparatus in 1839, when charging a customer $2.50 for making a "Clock real first rate." The price in this rural setting likely was equivalent to about three days' pay for a journeyman woodworker. The cost of actual repair work, as recorded in this study, varied from 3¢ to 50¢, although with one exception the nature of the work is unidentified. The exception is Titus Preston's work in 1803 in "puting an arm to a reel" for a customer at Wallingford, Connecticut, at a charge of 21¢. The clock reel had a long life in the domestic setting. Early repair records include those of circa 1735 for Thomas Pratt at Malden, Massachusetts, and for Isaiah Tiffany in 1757 at Norwich, Connecticut. An alternative method to skeining yarn on the upright reel, with or without a clock mechanism, was by using a "hand Reel," as identified in a New York City bill of 1792 from Gifford and Scotland to Walter Livingston for cleaning and polishing the apparatus. The woodworking partners likely described a niddy noddy, which has cross arms set at right angles to each other at the ends of a short rod. The device is turned and rotated by hand to wind yarn into skeins or shorter lengths.^[117]

The records of three craftsmen identify repairs to the swift. This revolving cage, which stands on the floor or is mounted on a table edge, followed the reel in use. In mounting skeins on the frame, the process of winding wool into balls for knitting or onto bobbins for weaving was simplified. Some swifts are collapsible in the manner of an umbrella. Samuel Davison of Plainfield, Massachusetts, and Job Danforth of Providence, Rhode Island, each recorded mending a swift. Job E. Townsend's work at Newport involved "Mending a Pair of Swifts" at a unit cost of 6d. (8 1/2¢).^[118]

The quill wheel identified in the accounts of several craftsmen resembles the wool wheel in appearance, but its function is different. The quill wheel enabled householders to wind bobbins mechanically by attaching yarn mounted on a swift directly to the bobbin (also called a spool, quill, or spindle), which is positioned forward of the wheel between a pair of upright maidens. Samuel Durand of Milford, Connecticut, recorded "work at [a] quill wheel" in 1818 for Sarah Newton. Other records provide more insight. In 1790 Joseph Stone of East Greenwich, Rhode Island, fabricated "ten Spokes and a hub to a Quill wheel" belonging to the household of Captain William Arnold. On occasion, Abraham Overholt also undertook spoke repair at Bedminster, Pennsylvania. Several woodworkers, including Stone, directed their attention to making a "whirl on [a] Quill wheel spindle." Nathaniel Dominy V charged 6d. (8¢) for that job at East Hampton, Long Island, and Job Townsend performed similar work at Newport, Rhode Island. The whirl, which accommodates the drive cord from the wheel, is mounted at one end of the bobbin adjacent to a maiden. The "Spooling Whele," identified by both Townsend and Overholt, is the same machine as the quill wheel.^[119]

Of several miscellaneous textile-related accessories identified in craftsmen's records, the quilting frame appears most frequently (fig. 29, left). The simple frame consisted of four rails, or bars, that overlapped at the corners, where they could be lashed together for easy adjustment. The fabric to be quilted was stretched within the frame. The frame could be supported on trestles, or flat-top chairs could be placed at the four corners. The charge for "making a quilting frame" was nominal, as demonstrated in the records of Isaiah Tiffany of Norwich, Connecticut, from whom John Elderkin purchased a new frame for 1s. 8d. (28¢) in September 1755. By January 1756 Elderkin sought repairs to what was likely the same frame and paid Tiffany 7d. (10¢) for the work. The price of a new frame appears to have risen by the early nineteenth century. When individual customers of Joseph Griswold at Buckland, Massachusetts, and Luke Houghton at Barre required "2 pieces to a quilting frame" in 1821-1822, they paid 35¢ and 25¢, respectively. Three shillings (50¢) was Fenwick Lyell's charge at Middletown, New Jersey, in 1806, when a customer needed "2 laths for a Quilting frame."^[120]

A single reference to "Mending a Tape Lomb" (loom) describes the presence in some households of a more sophisticated piece of textile equipment (fig. 30). When Job E. Townsend repaired this small loom for a customer at Newport, Rhode Island, in 1799, he recorded a charge of 25¢. The loom illustrated in figure 30, one of a variety of designs, is of particular interest because John Singleton Copley included a virtually identical table loom in his well-known double portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas MiZin, painted in 1773 at Boston. As the MiZins, who were Philadelphians, were merely visiting Boston, the loom perhaps can be ascribed to either city. In later years Thomas MiZin became governor of Pennsylvania (1792-1800). Another textile accessory associated with a refined lifestyle was the tambour frame, consisting of two circular hoops, one inside the other, used to strain a piece of fabric for purposes of embroidery. Fenwick Lyell repaired tambour frames in 1807 and 1815 for clients at Middletown, New Jersey.^[121]

Small Containers: Boxes, Cases, Chests, and Trunks
The term "container" as used in this study is a general word describing a broad group of small receptacles identified variously in craftsmen's records as "boxes," "cases," "chests," and "trunks." Many descriptions go a step further and identify the exact function of the receptacle. Why craftsmen distinguished between a case and a chest is not readily apparent without first consulting a dictionary and then reviewing function-specific examples in the records. Basically, a case is a box or container fitted to receive a specific object, whereas a chest is a box of strong construction, or at least one containing a lock, for the storage of articles of value. As it happens, the materials gathered for this study fit perfectly with those definitions, as will be demonstrated.

Wig boxes received the earliest attention of the woodworker. Charles Norris of Philadelphia engaged Samuel Matthews in 1761 to make "2 wig box tops" at a complete charge of 1s. 6d. (25¢). The low cost of the replacement lids describes the utilitarian nature of the boxes. Two New England craftsmen, Joseph Symonds of Salem, Massachusetts, and Job Townsend Jr. of Newport, Rhode Island, made general repairs in 1752 and 1770, respectively. Townsend's client was Colonel Joseph Wanton, who, like Norris, owned two wig boxes and, presumably, two wigs. Many wigs, particularly those that simulated natural hair, were stored and transported in bags. More genteel types of wigs fared better in box storage. During the late eighteenth century, however, the formal wig gradually faded from fashion.^[122]

Boxes for other uses also commanded the attention of the woodworker. In the pre-Revolutionary years John Durand of Milford, Connecticut, recorded mending a "Candle Box" for 3s. (50¢). A few years after the war Elisha Hawley described mending a "Shugar Box" at Ridgefield. More attention appears to have been paid to the pipe box (fig. 31). Lemuel Tobey of Dartmouth, Massachusetts, and Job E. Townsend, of Newport, Rhode Island, repaired pipe boxes for their respective clients in the late eighteenth century, and both men, when called upon, supplied a "Pipe Box Draw[er]" at a modest charge. In 1791 St. George Tucker, a prominent jurist of Williamsburg, Virginia, engaged Richard Booker to repair his "ink Box," a form at times also fabricated of metal.^[123]

Changing lifestyles, especially among middle-class consumers, mark the post-Revolutionary years. Fashionable headgear was best protected in a suitable container. Tapping Reeve, Esq., of Litchfield, Connecticut, paid Silas E. Cheney 1s. (16 1/2¢) in 1800 to put "a lid to a bunet [bonnet] box" for a female member of the family. To the north, in Windsor, Vermont, Thomas Boynton identified boxes for related purposes. The bandbox, made of wood or pasteboard, might serve as a storage container, a work box, or even a traveling valise for lightweight garments, in which case a fabric bag with drawstring handles to contain the box was a useful accessory. Some bandboxes were covered with ornamental paper. Boynton identified a wooden box, when he recorded "painting a Band Box verry handsome." His charge of $1.25 for the work indicates that he hand decorated the container. The price is in striking contrast to the 25¢ he charged another customer for "painting A work box." If that price reflected more than a surface coat of paint, the ornament was minimal. On another occasion Boynton recorded "making a top to a work Box."^[124]

Work on unidentified boxes sheds additional light on the activity of the woodworker. At Providence, Rhode Island, Job Danforth recorded "putting tops to 2 Boxes," although there is no indication of box shape or whether the tops were hinged lids or separate covers. Glue was all that was required when Rookesby Roberts repaired the top of a box for St. George Tucker in 1795 at Williamsburg, Virginia. A rectangular box shape is implicit in the work of Elijah Barnes in the 1820s, when "putting [a] Bottom & Back to [a] Box." For another Middletown, Connecticut, customer Barnes installed "2 partitions in [a] Box." Exterior surfaces, when not repainted, were coated with varnish, as executed by Thomas Boynton in Vermont and Mark Pitman at Salem, Massachusetts. On occasion, craftsmen provided a general indication of box size. Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, and Jonathan Kettell of Newburyport, Massachusetts, each completed work at "Mending a Small Boox" in the early post-Revolutionary period.^[125]

Craftsmen who lived in close proximity to the seacoast had occasional calls to fabricate or repair a receptacle to house a quadrant, an instrument used for navigation in the period of this study. Job Danforth recorded one such request in 1799 from Benjamin Gladding of Providence, Rhode Island: "To manding Quadren case for Son." The bottle case, a fixture of some households, was the subject of other repair work. In 1775 Joseph Pemberton, a Philadelphia merchant, engaged William Savery to mend a "Bottle Case," a request also made after the turn of the century to two New England craftsmen, Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, and Benjamin Ellery of Gloucester, Massachusetts. In the same general period (1799), William Wragg, Esq., of Charleston, South Carolina, who had ordered "a large liquor case" from Nicholas Silberg for the sum of £2.5 ($7.52), changed his mind and had his purchase altered to "a paper Case with two inside Boxes" for an additional £1 ($3.34). Other cases repaired by woodworkers for clients had more personal associations. William Guier of Philadelphia paid Davis Evans in 1801 for "painting a watch case," a box in which to hang a watch when not on the owner's person (fig. 32). Of unusual circumstance is a job of "Repairing a Music Case," which was a request to the firm of Hodghton and Son of Lima, Peru, in 1832 by Samuel Larned, a Providence merchant, who at that date was in the diplomatic service in South America. Of the cases identified here, all have a feature in common. Each was fitted to house a specific object.^[126]

The two chests, or containers for storing valuable items, named in this study are identified in craftsmen's accounts as a tea chest and a medicine chest. References focused on the tea chest are the most numerous, and, with one exception, all date to the third and fourth quarters of the eighteenth century, a time when tea was still an expensive, precious commodity (fig. 33). For the most part, repairs to the tea chest are without further description, although several references provide some insight. Alexander Edward of Boston recorded "mending [a] tea chest & Lock" in 1785 for Grant Webster. In "puting a lid to a tea chest" for Captain Phineas Pond at Wallingford, Connecticut, Titus Preston either supplied a new top for the chest or, more likely given the 1s. 2d. (19 1/2¢) charge, rehung the original lid. A finishing task was that of "Varnishing a Tea chest," as executed by James Poupard in 1773 for General John Cadwalader at Philadelphia. The locations of other craftsmen who made repairs to the tea chest describe the heavy urban focus of ownership: William Jenkins at Salem, Massachusetts; Joseph Lindsey at Marblehead; Job Townsend Jr. at Newport, Rhode Island; James Linacre at Albany, New York; and Richard Johns, William Savery, and Daniel Trotter at Philadelphia.^[127]

By the nature of its contents, ownership of a medicine chest was limited. When Dr. Jonathan Easton of Newport, Rhode Island, purchased a chest in February 1798 from Job E. Townsend for 15s. ($2.50), the cabinetmaker carefully recorded the specifications of the new box: "A medeson Chest 20 Inches Long and 14 Inches Wide & 7 Deepe . . . [and] 12 Partings" (partitions). Something in the design of the chest proved unsatisfactory because the doctor returned the chest to Townsend's shop in May for alterations at a cost of 3s. (50¢). Two years later, in 1800, Townsend was approached by a Dr. Turner of the frigate General Green (probably named for the American general Nathanael Green, 1742-1786) with a request to put a "Lock on the Meddecion Chest." To the north in Beverly, Massachusetts, in 1806, Robert Rantoul, a young druggist and merchant, required a new "Hinge on [a] midicin Chest." This may have been one of two "Medicine Box[es]" Rantoul purchased from Ebenezer Smith Jr. in 1796-1797, when he commenced business.^[128]

The trunk, described succinctly by the Oxford English Dictionary as "a large box, usually with a hinged lid, for carrying clothes and other luggage when traveling," was also within the scope of repair work undertaken by the woodworker. Dressed skins, smooth or with hair, often covered the wooden foundation of the trunk. Sometimes covered surfaces were ornamented with brass-headed nails, and metal straps and corners could be introduced to provide reinforcement. Paper linings were common on the trunk interior to protect clothing and other possessions from damage by wooden splinters. A trunk lock was essential for security. Both Moses Parkhurst of Paxton, Massachusetts, and Fenwick Lyell of Middletown, New Jersey, recorded "putting on 1 trunk lock" in the early nineteenth century. Other vulnerable metalwork on the trunk was the hinges. "New hinges for trunk & putting on" are described in the accounts of G. and D. Cleveland of Providence, Rhode Island, and Titus Preston of Wallingford, Connecticut, the work priced between 22¢ and 25¢. The utility of a trunk could be enhanced by the addition of interior drawers and a till, a job undertaken in 1794 by Job E. Townsend at Newport, Rhode Island. A complete refurbishing of the exterior and interior of a trunk, described as "Covring, papring, and triming a trunk" was recorded in 1797 by Stephanus Knight of Enfield, Connecticut, who charged the sum of 5s. (83 1/2¢).^[129]

Personal Items
Musical instruments loomed larger in the lives of American families in the federal period than they do today. The piano, or pianoforte, stood at the top of the hierarchy, a ranking that is reflected in the financial and social standing of the owners who sought repair work or other accommodation from a woodworking craftsman or a specialist in instruments. Included in this owner's group are Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge, a merchant of Litchfield, Connecticut; Nicholas Low and James L. Brinckerhoff, merchants of New York City; General Henry Knox, a resident of Philadelphia when secretary of war in the first federal government; and James J. Skerrett, a wealthy Philadelphian, who also owned a country seat.^[130]

Named repairs to the piano focus principally on the legs. Philemon Robbins of Hartford, Connecticut, charged 42¢ in 1834 for "repairing [a] piano leg." Elizur Barnes supplied casters to a client at Middletown a decade earlier, when he also constructed a new "musical Stool" that cost $2.25. The "New Caps on a Piano Forte" installed by Fenwick Lyell for a client at Middletown, New Jersey, in 1809, likely were cup casters. Two years later at Litchfield, Connecticut, Silas E. Cheney himself, rather than a shop journeyman, varnished Benjamin Tallmadge's piano, suggesting, perhaps, the delicacy and prestige of the job. Unspecified repairs made by Duncan Phyfe to James L. Brinckerhoff's piano in 1816 were accompanied by a new "Covering [for the] Piano Stool." The total job cost Brinckerhoff $13.00, the equivalent of about two weeks' pay for a journeyman furniture maker. Rather than repair work, James J. Skerrett's request to Loud and Brothers of Philadelphia in April 1832 was for "Removing a Piano Forte out of Town" to his country seat, where the instrument remained until November 1833, when Skerrett gave the order for "Removing a Piano from the Country." The moves cost Skerrett $4.00 and $5.00, respectively.^[131]

Stringed instruments, specifically the violin (also called a "fiddle") and the double bass (known in the federal period as a "bass viol"), were the subject of broader ownership. With one exception, repairs to the violin identify only general mending (fig. 29, right). John Green of Southampton, Long Island, described a simple job for a customer in 1791 as "Gluing Your fidle." Making unnamed general repairs were Thomas Boynton of Windsor, Vermont, Jonathan Kettell of Newburyport, Massachusetts, and Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island. Boynton also identified a job for another customer as "glueing [a] Bass violl," for which he charged a modest 25¢. Repairs to a double bass in the shop of Elisha H. Holmes at Essex, Connecticut, were accompanied by the job of "making [a] bow." George Short of Newburyport, Massachusetts, recorded the most comprehensive account of work to the double bass: "to 2 bassviol pins, 1 bridge & foot piece for d[itt]o." Again the charge was 25¢.^[132]

The umbrella, an item of personal convenience offering protection from rain or sun, was the subject of public notices in the late colonial and federal periods, thereby providing insight into the materials and general appearance of this accessory during the period covered by this study (fig. 34). Isaac Greenwood, a turner of Boston, could supply umbrellas "with Ivory or Bone Sockets and Sliders, and Mehogany Sticks." A retailer of house furnishings in the city described the cover when offering "a variety of silk and oyl cloth Umbrillos for Ladies." The owner of an umbrella lost in New York City identified the color of that example as "Scarlet." The cost of repairs, as reported in craftsmen's accounts, ranged from less than 10¢ to almost 50¢. Job E. Townsend of Newport, Rhode Island, put "a wire in [an] umberiller" in 1799 for as little as 6d. (8 1/2¢). A new handle at the Erie, Pennsylvania, shop of George Landon in 1817 cost a customer 25¢. The price suggests that the wooden piece was turned. Several craftsmen undertook the work of replacing the "stick," or "staff," in an umbrella, among them Titus Preston of Wallingford, Connecticut, who charged 2s. 3d. (38¢), and Nathaniel Dominy V of East Hampton, Long Island, who priced his work at 2s. (33¢). Umbrella repairs were as much in demand in urban areas as in rural locations, as demonstrated in the accounts of Samuel Matthews and Samuel Benge, Philadelphia craftsmen whose clients included Charles Norris, Stephen Girard, and Henry Knox.^[133]

Globes mounted in stands appear to have been uncommon, except in homes of the aZuent and at some educational institutions. In the pre-Revolutionary years two Philadelphia merchants, Joseph Pemberton and Charles Norris, owned stands with globes, which they placed in the hands of William Savery and Samuel Matthews, respectively, for repairs to the stands. There followed a similar request by General Thomas Cadwalader of the city in 1823, when patronizing craftsman Philip Warren.^[134]

Equipment used for games and sports required periodic attention. When acquiring "two Bowlen Pins" from Job Townsend Jr. at Newport, Rhode Island, in 1757, Jacob Rodriguez Rivera took two other pins to the shop to be altered, presumably to match the new ones. Rivera's pins likely were for use in the game of ninepins, suggesting that somewhere in the area there were one or more outdoor alleys. Half a century later, in 1808, Richard J. Tucker carried a backgammon board to the shop of Fenwick Lyell at Middletown, New Jersey, for repairs that cost 2s. (33¢). Shops equipped with a lathe could also supply the gamesmen, or checkers, used in board games. A different type of request was made by Joseph Ailsworth, who in 1823 sought the services of Job E. Townsend at Newport for "Wooding [a] Pair [of] Skates" (fig. 35). The ice skates may have been refurbished for a son in the family, although it was not unusual for both children and adults to skate, when winter conditions permitted.^[135]

The accommodation of a pet was the concern of other patrons of the woodworker's shop. Sometime before July 27, 1797, William Douglas visited the shop of Job. E. Townsend at Newport, Rhode Island, requesting that he make "a Squirrill Cage" at an agreed-upon price of 7s. ($1.17). In less than a month Douglas returned the cage to the shop for an alteration that Townsend described as "Cutting a Door in his Squirell Cage" at a cost of another shilling. Receiving more attention from the woodworker were enclosures described in an advertisement of 1759 as "Cages for Parrots and other Birds," which could be fabricated of wood, ivory, metal, or other material (fig. 29, upper right). Townsend and his father, Job Townsend Jr., each recorded "Mending a Bird Cage." George Merrifield engaged in similar work at Albany, New York, and Charles C. Robinson of Philadelphia undertook a related task described as "painting [a] bird Cage." Native birds, such as cardinals and mockingbirds, were prized, although some individuals preferred the more exotic parrot. In some homes parrots were released from their cages on occasion and given free rein of the household, often to the annoyance of visitors. A bird owned by John Girard, brother of Stephen Girard, may have had that freedom. In 1788 Girard visited the shop of Daniel Trotter in Philadelphia for the purpose of obtaining a "Board for a parrot Stand" for which he paid 3s. 5d. (75¢).^[136]

Furniture-making shops active during the late colonial and federal periods offered a broad range of services to their patrons. A substantial part of their business consisted of repairing and refurbishing household furniture, whether of utilitarian or formal design, and a wide variety of domestic objects composed wholly or partly of wood. Charges were reckoned in pounds until the 1790s and the introduction of the dollar as the national monetary unit. Although circulating specie was scarce into the early nineteenth century, business flourished because an active barter economy permitted householders to exchange products and services to meet their domestic needs.