Doesn't it sometimes seem as if quilts find you? A quilt came to me a few years ago, seeking a good home. I love when this happens. I was not looking for an antique schoolhouse quilt or even an antique quilt that day. I was looking for a vintage Coach bag at a consignment shop near Chicago where all the rich people dump their unwanted items that are practically unused. Although I've seen some nice bags there before, they didn't have any good ones this time. So, I wandered into the back of the store where I saw some expensive linens piled up on a chair. I picked through them and look what I found:
This old Schoolhouse quilt cried out to me like a stray puppy: "Take me home with you, please!" This shop clearly was no place for an antique quilt to live - among all the designer bags, shoes and fur coats. It needed a less fancy home. I made an offer, the shop clerk called the owner and 10 minutes later I walked away with it for $45.00. I'm sure they thought I was nuts. "That old thing???" (I'm sure my husband thought the same thing, although he's used to it by now and just shrugs.)
Now, granted, things like this do not happen every day (especially to me) and after I got home I was glad I hadn't passed up the opportunity. The quilt is NOT in pristine condition. It looks like it may have sat in the back of a truck for years while the owner hauled around who knows what on top of it.
The blocks are hand pieced and the quilt is tied, not quilted. It is definitely well worn and loved, has some fading, a few stains and tears and is really in need of some good care. But it has such a primitive look and is truly a great piece of folk art. I couldn't just leave it there. I cannot display it unless I fold it so that some parts are well hidden. At one point I thought I might attempt to repair it myself because I actually have some reproduction double pink fabric that is the exact same as the original. But that always seemed like too big a job for a novice quilt collector like me.
I love that one house was patched with a similar brown fabric at one point. Someone must have valued it enough to take the time to do that.
My guess is that it's from around 1900. Schoolhouse quilts were popular in the late 19th century and that trend continued into the 1920s and '30s. According to the International Quilt Study Center in Nebraska, "For rural women of the late nineteenth century, teaching was both the most prestigious and the highest paying opportunity available to them. The Schoolhouse pattern, which became popular at the same time, may reflect the lives of the many women who helped support their families through teaching positions, prior to their marriage."
When I look at the quilt, I often think about the woman who made it and wonder: Where was she from? Did she live on the prairie? Was she a teacher? I know I did the right thing - I rescued it and gave it a home. A home that values schools and teachers. It was the least I could do to honor the quiltmaker, who may have felt the same way.
This old Schoolhouse quilt cried out to me like a stray puppy: "Take me home with you, please!" This shop clearly was no place for an antique quilt to live - among all the designer bags, shoes and fur coats. It needed a less fancy home. I made an offer, the shop clerk called the owner and 10 minutes later I walked away with it for $45.00. I'm sure they thought I was nuts. "That old thing???" (I'm sure my husband thought the same thing, although he's used to it by now and just shrugs.)
Now, granted, things like this do not happen every day (especially to me) and after I got home I was glad I hadn't passed up the opportunity. The quilt is NOT in pristine condition. It looks like it may have sat in the back of a truck for years while the owner hauled around who knows what on top of it.
The blocks are hand pieced and the quilt is tied, not quilted. It is definitely well worn and loved, has some fading, a few stains and tears and is really in need of some good care. But it has such a primitive look and is truly a great piece of folk art. I couldn't just leave it there. I cannot display it unless I fold it so that some parts are well hidden. At one point I thought I might attempt to repair it myself because I actually have some reproduction double pink fabric that is the exact same as the original. But that always seemed like too big a job for a novice quilt collector like me.
When I look at the quilt, I often think about the woman who made it and wonder: Where was she from? Did she live on the prairie? Was she a teacher? I know I did the right thing - I rescued it and gave it a home. A home that values schools and teachers. It was the least I could do to honor the quiltmaker, who may have felt the same way.
An 1840 restored schoolhouse not far from my home. Funny thing - instead of taking the expressway, I decided to take a slower route that day and passed it on the way to the shop.