Harvard Business School in Boston is not the first place most of us think of when seeking information relating to needlework and textiles in Maine. But the Baker Library at that institution has collections of old papers and ledgers of interest to those who write about the history of women and needlework. These include the Miss Sarah Curtis Collection, The Haskell Silk Co. Collection and the William H. Witherle Collection, according to the school’s Web site.

Miss Sarah Curtis “was a single woman who owned a dry goods store in Hampden between 1862 and 1866.” The collection of papers pertaining to Miss Curtis consists of two volumes recording her business dealings, including purchases she made from suppliers in Bangor. Curtis purchased for her store “stationery, cloth, needles, trimmings for dresses and hats, soap, scented oils, dyes, herbs, syrup, raisins, sugar, coffee, eggs, gloves, purses, corsets and photograph albums.”

The second volume of papers records Curtis’ personal and store expenses, including charitable donations, and wages paid to male and female employees.

The Witherle Collection contains the records of William H. Witherle’s general store in Castine and date from 1806 to 1892. Of particular interest is the fact that in the 1870s and 1880s, Witherle paid women in the Castine area to knit mittens with yarn he supplied. In return for knitting, the women earned store credit. The collection also contains records pertaining to the business the Witherle men conducted with the Castine Brick Co., the shipping and ship-building industries, the fishing industry, the outfitting of fisherman and the importation of salt from Cadiz, Spain, and Liverpool, England.

The Haskell Silk Co. manufactured silk and satin fabrics for dresses in Westbrook from 1874 to 1918. The women who worked at the factory were paid by the day.

Textiles, whether made in a factory, created by hand or sold over the counter in a dry goods store, played an important role in the lives of 19th century women faced with the necessity of supporting themselves or supplementing a husband’s income.

It must have been comforting to know that for every pair of mittens she knit, a woman accumulated credit at Mr. Witherle’s store, which could be cashed in at some later date for a silk ribbon, a length of fabric or maybe even a new pair of shoes.

Miss Sarah Curtis must have been felt a certain satisfaction at conducting her business so well that she earned enough to give an occasional donation to charity. Perhaps she took pleasure in leaning over the counter to confer with a Hampden woman intent on purchasing braid or lace to refurbish an old dress, or to help a customer choose the perfect shade of silk ribbon and flowers to trim a hat. Perhaps Miss Curtis exchanged the latest news of who had given birth, who was engaged to be married or who had died. Perhaps they talked about the sermon they heard at church the Sunday before.

The women who worked in the textile factory in Westbrook probably didn’t enjoy the best of working conditions. Surely, the looms clattered loudly and the dangers of being caught up in the belts and pulleys that drove the loom machinery were an ever-present danger. But at the end of the day, when they lined up to receive their wages, perhaps they felt a certain sense of accomplishment, and congratulated one another for having made it through another hard day’s work. Perhaps they commiserated with one another about aching backs, lacerated fingers and weariness. Perhaps they went home glad to have jobs that gave them money enough to buy food and to pay the rent.

The information in the collections at the Baker Library has not yet been published. Here then is fertile ground for future generations of scholars intent on illuminating how needlework sustained women’s lives, both economically and aesthetically, in the 19th century.

To learn more about the Baker library and its Women, Enterprise and Society collections, visit www.library.hbs.edu.

Ardeana Hamlin welcomes suggestions. Call 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.