A Tale of Tails: Conserving a Horsehair Footstool
Can you name a fabric that would have all of the following characteristics?
- Durable and hard-wearing
- Comes from a natural and replenishable source that is cruelty free
- Naturally antifungal with hypoallergenic properties
- Naturally water, stain, and fire resistant
- Lustrous and fashionable
It’s not easy to come up with something that would meet each and every one of these criteria, but if you guessed horsehair, then you guessed right!
A view of the formal parlor in the Webster Home, Greenfield Village.
Let’s rewind to 1835 and step inside the Webster home in Greenfield Village, where you will find a grand couch and two footstools in the formal parlor. The set is upholstered in a rich and lustrous espresso-colored horsehair fabric. Why horsehair? Before automobiles came along, working horses were everywhere and it was commonplace for their tails to be trimmed short for practical and hygienic reasons. People made use of the cut-off portion, finding it to be a natural material that was both plentiful and resilient. It would have been a popular, sensible, and stylish choice for upholstery in high-traffic areas and common in parlors, dining rooms, and meeting areas across Europe and the U.S. (in fact, you’ll find many examples throughout the village, so keep those eagle eyes peeled the next time you visit).
The tails of working horses were cut short for practical reasons, as you can see in this painting by George Stubbs titled “A Saddled Bay Hunter,” 1786. Oil on panel; 21 3/4 inches by 27 3/4 inches. Berger Collection, Denver Art Museum. (Public Domain)
This particular furniture set dates to 1815-1825, so it’s in pretty wonderful shape, all things considered. Village staff spotted surface damage to one of the footstools, and so it was brought to our conservation labs, where our historic objects get the TLC they need.
The damage is not new and was likely caused by beetles that would be attracted to the proteins in the horsehair. Sometimes a damaged artifact gives us the chance to see what’s on the inside and learn more about the innovative techniques and materials that were used to produce it. For instance — do you see the squiggly nest of strands inside the holes in the photo above? That’s actually horsehair too. It could be used as stuffing for upholstered furniture because it’s malleable but also has lots of structure to keep cushions from deflating.
The Treatment
Conservation work involves a bit of science, art, and a lot of patience. Our job isn’t to make the object look new. Instead, we aim to consolidate original materials and stabilize the artifact as a whole in a way that honors its craftsmanship and allows its story to continue to be told.
We considered various materials for making patches but were eager to experiment and see if they could be made from horsehair fabric itself. This is tricky because of how this type of fabric is woven. As you can see in the image below, each strand of hair sticks out from either selvedge edge of the cloth because horsehair isn’t long enough to be woven back and forth through the cotton warp (the solid black threads that are strung onto the loom). The hairs selected for this type of fabric are the thickest and most wire-like ones. The fabric is tightly woven but can fray easily when cut.
John Boyd Textiles Ltd. in Castle Cary, England, is one of the last remaining manufacturers of horsehair fabrics. You can see a video about their traditional production process on their website: Horsehair Fabrics woven by John Boyd Textiles (Image via Creations Metaphores, Instagram).
Our supply of horsehair fabric comes from John Boyd Textiles in the UK. The adhesive that we use to attach the new patch to the original material comes as a film held between two sheets of mylar; it can be heat-sealed to fabrics with a tacking iron. In this case, it allows us to attach the patch to the footstool but also helps to seal the raw edges of the horsehair together as they are being cut.
A tapered patch is carefully slid into place using fine-tipped tweezers.
We ensured the direction of the weave on each patch aligned with where it would be placed on the footstool and refined the tapered ends to limit the amount of disruption to the object as we slid them into place between the layers of existing upholstery. With tweezers, we were able to do this without lifting or stretching the original surface. Once heat-set, we then carefully wicked hide glue (another natural material and one of the oldest types of adhesives) into the edge of each hole so that the patch was fully stabilized from either side. We chose hide glue for its ability to expand and contract due to changes in temperature — a helpful quality for an artifact that lives in Greenfield Village year-round.
The upholstered cushion of the footstool before (L) and after patches have been applied (R).
Finally, we used a fine-tipped brush and a blend of acrylic paint colors to disguise the raw jute around the edge of each hole, matching the placement of the striated dark and light strands of horsehair. In this way, we can maintain the integrity of the object’s history for study or further treatment down the road while still allowing it to tell the focused story of its current exhibition without distraction.
Kate Herron, conservation specialist, textiles, Henry Ford Museum of American Innovation
Facebook Comments