The block selections for the second installment of the blanket series were inspired by the themes of movement and shelter in relation to the history of the American frontier. The Pinwheel evokes sensations of motion; you might picture the spokes of wagon wheels rolling to carry travelers to destinations unknown. The Log Cabin represents the safety and shelter of a permanent home, built once the journey had ended and life in a new place had begun. While exploring these concepts, I discovered a term for a type of quilt people actually lived with and depended upon for warmth and shelter while moving towards that new home.
I found references to a type of quilt closely associated with the American West: the sugan quilt. The word sugan is derived from the Irish word súgán, which originally referred to a straw rope. These were not the pristine heirloom quilts carefully made for a dowry or received as a meaningful gift, but the ones subjected to weather, dirt, travel, labor, and constant use. There are not many photos of quilts like this; they were used until they were beyond repair and were not considered aesthetically notable. They were made from necessity, and necessity tends to care very little for beauty.
photo from The Quilt that Walked to Golden by Sarah Dallas
These quilts were often roughly pieced, heavily worn, awkwardly repaired, and made from whatever durable materials happened to be available at the moment. Old coats, wool trousers, or work shirts too worn to continue wearing but still capable of providing warmth would be roughly stitched together as tops with heavy wool blankets as batting.
A sugan could be found tied to the saddle of a horse or folded in the bed of a wagon, ready to be spread on the ground to provide warmth wherever the day happened to end. They moved with people whose lives were not yet settled; one small, homey thread of comfort through a journey woven with discomfort.
Here is where we find the beauty of a sugan. There is something beautiful about an object that has been repaired repeatedly because it mattered too much to discard. A sugan quilt tells us that textiles were not simply decorative expressions of creativity; they were tools of survival. Warmth itself was valuable enough to justify the labor of piecing together worn-out scraps into something beautiful through its necessity.
That may be one of the most compelling aspects of quilting history: quilts have never existed solely as art objects. They have marked births and deaths, marriages and departures, celebrations and grief. But they have also provided insulation, warmth, privacy, comfort, and physical protection. Sometimes they are treasured heirlooms. Sometimes they were simply the barrier between the cold hard ground and a worn out traveler.
If you'd like to read more, the book The Quilt that Walked to Golden (referenced with the photo above) would be a great resource. Author Sarah Dallas mentions the sugan only briefly, but the pages are filled with history, stories, and photos of pioneering women who settled in Colorado, bringing their quilting traditions with them on the journey west.
We are so excited for you to receive the next installation of the blanket club. You will be in for a real treat with the Ledger entry relating to our third set of blocks.....our friend Mary Murphy, PhD historian and author, will be sharing a beautiful Montana-made quilt and the story behind it.
If you have any photos of your blocks that you'd like to share, please email them to support@stixyarn.com. We'd love to hang your photos in our gallery!