|
|
A Victorian Fisherman |
A Unique Garment :
Old sepia photographs evoke the romance
of far-off times. Yet there was little
romantic in the life of a North Sea
fisherman at the turn of the century when
most days involved a struggle against the
elements. Life could be just as hard for the
womenfolk.
Days were long but, in addition to such
essential tasks as baiting the lines, time
would be set aside for gansey knitting,
either for members of the immediate family
or else for sale to raise a few extra
shillings. Great pride was taken in this
knitting, especially for the ‘Sunday best’
gansey (often not in the traditional navy)
to be worn at such occasions as the
Flamborough sword-dancing or Filey
fishermen’s choir, both of which still
thrive today. |
 |
Flamborough Gansey |
At some time past the custom arose that each
fishing community would have its own
identifiable pattern based on a selection of
motifs related to the sea: nets, ropes,
ladders, herringbones, and so on. Although
it is now impossible to ascertain precisely
when the patterns came into being, this
style of knitting originated during the
reign of Elizabeth I and the patterns were
fixed by the beginning of the nineteenth
century. This means that it is possible to
tell where a fisherman came from by the
pattern on his gansey; it is also the factor
which, more than anything, makes the gansey
unique.
Eventually, however, the craft of gansey
knitting went into steady decline as younger
people moved out of the fishing villages and
was in danger of dying out completely. Each
gansey is a living part of history and we
believe it is essential that the craft is
maintained and nourished.
Every Gansey tells its own story. This was
originally for a very practical, if morbid,
reason. As each village fishing community
could be identified by the design on its
Gansey, if the body of a fisherman was found
it could then be returned to his home for
burial.
Note in the photograph at left that the
high collar, a feature of the Ganseys, has
been rolled down.
|
| In larger fishing communities, small
alterations to the basic pattern could even
allow for the differentiation of families
within that village. Indeed, it is perhaps
not too great an exaggeration to say that
Ganseys helped foster the community spirit.
Today that spirit is alive and well and
Ganseys are still being worn, not only by
those who work in them, but also by those
who appreciate the workmanship, history, and
beauty of these remarkable sweaters.
Note that the patterning is the same, back
and front. This means that the Gansey is
reversible, so that areas which come in for
heavier wear, such as the elbows, can be
alternated.
|
Flamborough Gansey |
|
One of our knitters |
THE
HISTORY OF THE GANSEY
Few occupations are more at the mercy of the
wind and weather than fishing. And it was
the practical requirement for warm yet
unencumbering clothing that prompted the
development of a fascinating tradition in
fishermen’s sweaters, variously known as
jerseys, guernseys and ganseys.
It is likely that the word ‘jersey’, used to
describe a knitted garment, owes its
derivation to the name of the largest of the
Channel Islands, where worsted spinning was
once a staple industry. Over a period of
time, the close-fitting garments knitted in
worsted-spun yarn made in Jersey, and
favoured by sailors and fishermen, became
known as jerseys.
Similarly, the neighbouring island of
Guernsey gave its name to the classic
square-shaped wool sweater, which was
designed with a straight neck so that it
could be reversed. Gansey, a term which
crops up in the writings of both Samuel
Beckett and James Joyce, is a dialect
variation of Guernsey.
Until the coming of the machine age in the
nineteenth century, most industries were
small-scale and craft-based. As early as
1589, however, the invention of the knitting
frame by William Lee, a brilliant
Nottinghamshire clergyman, had put into
motion the gradual migration of hosiery
manufacturing from the domestic setting to
the factory. The uptake of machines was
uneven, with pockets of the knitting
industry, such as the famous knitters of
Dent who made small items on short needles,
resisting change for many years.
The production of heavier gauge knitwear
remained a largely domestic activity until
much more recently, with women knitting for
entire families well within living memory.
Every village shop would have boasted a
section devoted to knitting yarn, and the
market towns would have had at least one
thriving wool shop.
|
The isolated communities along the rugged
British coastline were, by necessity, even
more self-sufficient than those further
inland. In the poor fishing communities,
families could ill afford the luxury of
goods imported from the outside world. Women
knitted for their sweethearts, husbands and
children. At a time when resources were
scarce, outgrown clothes were passed down
and adults’ garments cut down and remade for
children.
Visitors to the Yorkshire fishing ports such
as Whitby and Filey and tiny villages such
as Seahouses on the rugged Northumberland
coast, reported seeing women sitting in
their doorways busy with their needles.
Never wasting a moment that could be used to
earn an extra penny, women worked late into
the evening by the light of rush lamps,
knitting the navy-coloured yarn more by feel
than by eye.
Although the classic Guernsey sweater
remained plain (some Guernsey parishes did,
however, have their own patterns), the
stitch patterns used became more complicated
the further north the garment spread, with
the most complex evolving in the Scottish
fishing villages. These elaborate patterns
came south with the Scottish herring fleet,
as the women folk followed their husbands
down the coast to gut the fish. Thus the
pattern known as Whitby flag is in fact an
interpretation of a Scottish design.
Young women, who had received little formal
education, would develop the ability to
memorize complicated patterns, which were
passed down from mother to daughter,
gathering new variations with each
generation. The garments were made on five
or more needles, often called “wires” or
“pins”, so as to be seamless. It was not
unusual for men, too, to knit ganseys.
Knitting was a natural extension of the
familiar tasks of making and mending fishing
nets, routine jobs which required
considerable dexterity.
Tightly knitted in worsted yarn the
fisherman’s gansey was virtually windproof
and waterproof. As these working garments
were rarely washed, there is no doubt that a
layer of filth would have added to the
general protective effect. It is consoling
to learn that fishermen had “Sunday best”
ganseys which, being
decidedly more fragrant, were worn for
church and on high days and holidays. |
|
Many venerable ganseys appear in the sepia
toned photographs taken by the well-known
Whitby photographer Frank Meadow Sutcliffe
from 1880 to the turn of the nineteenth
century. Prints made from Sutcliffe’s
original glass plates provide a fascinating
insight into the clothing of ordinary
working people.
The characteristic, almost tubular, shape of
the fisherman’s gansey was dictated by
practicality. The welt, neck and cuffs were
knitted tight so as to keep out winter
blasts. According to hearsay, so tight were
the ganseys knitted for the unfortunate
children of one fisherman that, when the
garments were pulled over their heads, the
children’s ear lobes bled.
The cuffs, also made to be close-fitting,
generally ended short of the wrist to avoid
impeding the hands and becoming soaked with
sea water as the men worked. The close
fitting design also helped to reduce the
chances of the hem or cuffs becoming caught
on pieces of equipment or tackle, a mishap
which could prove fatal
As time took its toll on the cuffs and
elbows, the lower half of the sleeves could
be unravelled and re-knitted with new yarn.
Garments made in various shades of blue,
ranging from deep navy to a hue faded with
age, were a common sight.
The upper part of the body was knitted more
densely than the lower part to provide extra
warmth, and it was on the yoke and upper
arms that the knitters had the opportunity
to show off their knitting skills and to
elaborate on the basic stocking stitch with
numerous variations.
For detailed records of the many local
interpretations of traditional fishermen’s
jerseys, we are indebted to the tireless
efforts of Gladys Thompson, who, in the
1950s, pencil and paper in hand, scoured the
fishing ports on the east coast—from
Sheringham and Cromer in Norfolk as far as
Upper Largo in Fife.
Her quest, fired by a determination to
preserve for future generations patterns
which were seldom written down, took her
down the narrow harbour ginnels (passages)
and into the cramped fishermen’s cottages,
where often a single room served as kitchen,
bedroom and living room, with an attic above
for storing and mending nets.
|
 |
On one occasion Gladys Thompson describes
how, on the track of two knitters who lived
on Holy Island, she hired a young lad to
drive her across to the island from Berwick.
He arrived in a car at least thirty years
old and covered with rust and sand. Their
journey, made before the causeway linking
the island to the mainland was built,
entailed driving through the sea which
surged into the ancient car through the
floor boards.
Many of the stitch motifs used to decorate
the ganseys were inspired by the everyday
objects in the lives of fishing families.
Some of the best-known designs represent
ropes, nets, anchors and herringbone. Other
patterns are based on the weather, echoing
the shapes made by waves, hail or flashes of
lighting. Some patterns had more complex
symbolic meanings. One of the traditional
Filey patterns, for example, is a zigzag
design called “marriage lines” which
represents the ups and downs of married
life.
It was even possible for fishing families to
recognize from the pattern of a gansey,
which fishing village, or even which family,
the wearer came from. At a time when the
loss of a boat was a frequent occurrence,
deliberate mistakes or the wearer’s initials
were often incorporated into the design in
order to help to identify a body recovered
from the sea. As the gansey was was
traditionally worn tight-fitting and close
to the skin, and with no seams to come
apart, it could not be washed off in the
water.
By tradition, the sweaters worn by all kinds
of seafarers, whether they be fishermen,
naval or retired sea salts, are navy blue—a
colour reflecting the sea and sky. Before
the advent of synthetic dyes in the late
nineteenth century, blue was obtained by
using natural indigo, a plant extract
imported from India. However, summer weight
ganseys, knitted in a three- or four-ply
yarn rather than the usual five-ply, were
sometimes pale grey or fawn.
In a world
which is becoming increasingly global in
popular culture, the preservation of our
traditional craft takes on a fresh urgency.
|
Download our catalogue :
Download the current
Flamborough Marine catalogue in Adobe PDF format
[file size 1.5 mb].
To download, right click
the following link:
PDF CATALOGUE
and
select [Windows]: "SAVE
TARGET AS".
Please note that, to be viewed, the
catalogue requires Adobe Acrobat Reader
(available as a free download from Adobe.com).
|
