Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-11-01
A MAYFLOWER CLOAK
VICISSITUDES OF A GARMENT
POSING AS SUCH.
It's Outer and Inner Coverings
Changed Many
Times.
Written for The Evening Star.

Written for The Evening Star.
It is the case of cloak proudly posed as
a Mayf1ower relic, by it's present possessor,
a Boston woman, who is daughter of
about everything yet invented. The word
possessor is used advisedly. The woman
herself would think it sacrilege to say own
er. To her the relic Is an heirloom, more
precious than gold, yea, than much fine
gold, and far above rubies.
These are the facts in the case. The wo-
mans remote Mayfiower ancestor certainly
had aboard that famous vessel a cloak like
unto the present day garment. 1t was
long and ample, of fine blue camlet lined
throughout with sad-colored paduasoy,
lightly quilted. Naturally it was cherished
as garment of state. But moths are no
respecters of persons, neither of even Puri-
tan piety. They Toasted on dark blue cam
let through several seasons, until the gar
ment of state would not wrap even it's
owners dignity. His wife, like John Gil
pins, had a frugal mind. The paduasoy
lining seemed to her nearly as good as ever
so she whipped off the blue outside for a
pattern, cut new cloak by it out of snuff
colored Flemish broadcloth-in a trice her
good man had a new garment, fine enough
to wear at the governors own levee.
The good man wore it with due care, but
in spite of gingerly handling, the paduasoy
came in rags before the outside had even
lost it's first gloss. Those were hard days
among the the pilgrims-the best new lining
available was of homespun red flannel. 1t
both looked well and wore Well-Still 1t
could not compare with Flemish broadcloth
The snuff-brown outlasted three full lin
ings, and might have come down to this
day, but that 1t was worn in a day-long
rain got soaked, was hung before the fire
to dry, and through carelessness was
scorched right down the middle of the
back.
The lining, however, was unscathed-the
new lining of plaid sarcenet lightly padded
and quilted in a Scripture text. Throwing
1t away was not to be thought of, so again
there was a span-new outside, this time a
blanket-cloth of rich bottle-green. OF the
bottle-green's yicissitudes there is neither
tradition nor records, until the cloak re-
appears a sober black. Whether 1t had
gone voluntarily into mouRning or suffered
the degradation of the dye-pot there is no
means of knowing. Instead of the plaid
sarcenet there was a most disreputable
flannel, coarse and sleazy, in hue a muddy
drab. With the revolution passed and
boughten goods once more plenty, the drab
was most tolerable and not to De endured.
1t gave place to the black lutestring, which
appeared to the cloak's clerical owner as
best suiting with his place in the social
economy. When his eldest son went to coll
Iege, the cloak went with him. He aspired
to be known somewhat as man of fashion,
yet dared not too deeply outrage the fami-
ly traditions of thrift. new garment out
and out he knew his father would not stand
so the cloak went to a fashionable repairer
who gave it first brand-new lining and
then new outside
Getting Worse for Wear.
AS it left his hands 1t appears today,
save that it is something the worse for
years of steady wear. 1t did not begin, you
see, to be a relic until the resourceful col
legian had grown-up daughters. Even then
-
the sentiment toward It, 1t was an old
thing, 1t had been good-they would pack 1t
away In camphor to show in later times
that they were not parvenues. Their ances-
tor had worn broadcloth even in callow col
lege days. broadcloth web cut and well fin
ished-the tailor. you see. had shipped and.
slashed his model to meet his own view.
Then the cloak lay fifty years buried in
odorous oblivion, brought to light maybe
once in two years, to be looked at remnis-
Gently summed refolded and bundled into
it's appointed place. Throughout those dark
ayatar awaiting it, 1t was only along about
1876 that the craze for ancestry, and to be
daughters of everything. began New Eng
land has the craze, somewheres wildly,
semewheres viruiently. The Boston woman's
case is viruient. She has spent years of
her life. as her sister says, publishing and
furnishing" Now when she goes to colonial
teas and revolutionary breakfasts draped
in the old cloak, which has been cleaned
and presse6 and darned. and generally
glorified. she feels that she has her reward.
The captious. however. do not fail to ask
themselves, rs 1t, after all, genuine relic