My son found a treadle machine for me a few years ago and my husband helped me restore it. I did most of the work but I couldn't have completed it without his help and expertise. I have made one quilt on it.
Every seamstress should experience the treadle. Makes you appreciate what we have in the new machines and it is a very pleasant work out-for me anyway. I should make something again on it just to keep it working. Parts are easy to find and so are old machines that have been taken out of the cabinets. It may take a while to collect all the parts but it is a fun adventure and a beautiful piece of American history when you are able to restore one of these life changing machines.
I found a few article on Mother Earth News that I thought I'd share with you. Maybe you will be inspired to go green with a treadle machine (no electricity required).
Relearning to Sew On Treadle Sewing Machine
3/29/2013 4:35:20 PM
By Linda Holliday
When I was young, I’d watch in fascination as my mother used her treadle sewing machine (an 1800’s Singer that belonged to my great-grandmother) to fashion fuzzy coats, couch covers and zippered pencil bags. I’d sit on the floor and watch as her feet deftly pedaled fast on the straightaway and then slowed as she rounded a curve or reached an end.
Built before electricity, the Singer purred, interrupted only when the ancient leather belt flew apart. Mom would stop pedaling, rejoin the belt ends with a bent nail and string, and resume sewing. Without realizing it, I was learning much about human-powered machines just by watching my mother sew.
Finally, at age 11, I was allowed to use the machine myself. What a thrill to pick out a Raggedy Ann pattern at Ben Franklin in town for my first project. The fabric, buttons and stuffing came from my mother’s scrap box – what she called “glad rags.” They may only have been faded remnants of former garments, but she was “glad to have them.”
For the ruffles, I used the Singer pleat-gathering tool. Embroidering the facial features required attaching another clever gadget. I followed the directions in the yellowed manual, eventually trying out each attachment as I completed Raggedy Ann.
As a teen, I modified straight-legged jeans by adding triangles of gaudy fabric to create bell bottoms. It was the 70’s. What can I say?
After a car, my next big investment as a young adult was a $400 sewing machine that could form buttonholes and even had some extra fancy stitches (that I never used). I just plugged the machine in and away I went, consuming a million miles of thread over the years as I crafted curtains, quilts, clothes and even a boat cover or two.
Nothing compared, though, with the satisfaction of sewing with that antique treadle machine. The hum of an electric motor is impersonal and the speed challenging to control. But, I grew up being told technology is better. My mother, too, gave away her treadle in favor of a modern plastic and tin marvel. Thankfully, her treadle did not end up in the city dump with mountains of others.
On our journey to self-reliance, my husband, Darren, and I have been gathering human-powered tools when we can find them. It’s surprising and sad how quickly hand- and foot-powered tools were junked when electricity became available. From 1850 to 1890, more than 100 apple-pealing devices were patented. Then none, except those running on electric power. And so it goes with thousands of other nifty human-powered appliances.
I drove by a fix-it shop recently and couldn’t believe my lucky find – an antique stainless steel hand-powered washing machine sitting out front. I zoomed in the parking lot and ran over to the washer, only to discover petunias blooming in the rusted out basin.
Our search for non-electric tools revived memories of that faithful Singer. Within a few days of putting my brother-in-law on the lookout, he found an abused White Rotary treadle machine at a Springfield thrift store for $60. Even though I was somewhat discouraged by its neglected condition (I didn’t even take a picture), I was eager to get it home and start refurbishing. I wasn’t interested in beauty; I just wanted a working treadle machine.
The machine appeared (and smelled) as if it was stored in a chicken coop. The cabinet was brutally battered and the hand wheel was nearly paralyzed, but we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Darren replaced broken boards while I disassembled, oiled and cleaned the machine. I took a few photos to remember how to put it back together.
We learned that unless a machine is severely rusted, it is not difficult to restore. Ours was not missing pieces, but even those can be found online for little expense. I bought 25 feet of leather belt online (enough for a lifetime) for less than $10. Copies of manuals are also available, which you may need to learn to thread your machine. I discovered that opposite of other machines, the White hand wheel is turned away from the operator to sew. That took some getting used to.
As we worked, Darren and I marveled at the White’s quality craftsmanship. Online copies of advertisements reveal this machine was built to be affordable for the average household, costing about $55 new in 1913. Yet, the cabinet has in inlaid ruler, handsome curved drawers and detailed wrought iron stand. The machine is adorned on every side with golden decals.
Darren was especially intrigued with the precise machine work. After cleaning and oiling the treadle in the shop, he gave it a few pumps to get it spinning and then came in the house to fetch me. We went out and saw the flywheel still silently turning minutes later, perfectly balanced and smooth.
Between the two of us, we had the cabinet and machine looking and running like new in three days. Then, I couldn’t stop sewing. I scoured the house looking for small repair projects – a kitchen curtain, cover for the cinder block holding our water filter and padded arm rests for my rocker. Then, just for fun, I created a true scrap quilt of ragged clothes, bits of leftover fabric and old pillow stuffing.
It’s been a few months since we restored it, but I still marvel at the machine’s strength, precision and ease of use. I picture the machine’s original owner, whoever she may have been, in a long calico dress sewing bushels of baby clothes by lantern light. The machine was surely a treasured piece of furniture in her home.
Now, 100 years later, I wouldn’t trade my antique White Rotary for a hundred brand-new sewing machines.
Linda Holliday lives in the Missouri Ozarks where she and her husband formed Well Water Boy , a company devoted to producing products for off-grid living.
RELATED CONTENT
Handy online sources include:
www.TreadleOn.net.
(This is where I learned how to restore my treadle machine.)
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Tips on Buying, Restoring, and Using Treadle Sewing Machines By Helene Ellis
March/April 1975
Helene Ellis shares advice on how to buy a treadle sewing machine, treadle machine restoration and other antique sewing machine insights.
Buying an Antique Treadle Sewing Machine
[1] Singer is first choice, White second, and other brands should be purchased only if complete (check for bobbins, presence of operating manual, and condition of moving parts). Singers are more numerous and, therefore, parts for them are more readily available ... if not from dealers, then from other old machines.
[2] Singer made various models, and accessories are not equally easy to find in all cases. If the machine you're considering comes with only one or two bobbins, for instance, make sure they're the disc variety rather than the scarcer long type.
[3] Look over the machine carefully. A few small parts may be missing, but such pieces are generally replaceable. Major hardware, however, is more difficult to obtain or repair. Move the treadle to be sure it functions, and check the rods that connect it to the wheel. See if the skirt guard — a handy item — is in place. And, no matter what its condition, if you come on an unusable machine for free or a couple of dollars, take it. It may be a fine source of parts.
[4] If you're at an auction and overhear some woman saying that she wants a treadle operated sewer because the cast iron base makes a nice table or the drawers make pretty flower boxes, outbid her if you can. This sort of thing is being done far too often, and it's a terrible waste of good sewing machines.
Restoring Treadle Sewing Machines
[1] Replace missing parts. Items like the spool post or leather wheel belt can be purchased at a sewing machine parts store.
[2] Run sewing machine oil through the various oil ports.
[3] Use Three–In–One oil to clean the surface of the head (the working part of the machine). Detergent may strip the gold leaf ornament. The metal on our Singer was completely black when we started refurbishing the machine, and we were joyfully surprised to find the baroque scrolling underneath.
[4] To redo the cabinet as the fine piece of furniture it is, we chose the rough way ... by stripping the old varnish with straight ammonia. (There must be a better method!) Then we refinished the wood and painted the iron parts with black enamel.
Using a Foot-Powered Sewing Machine
Rest assured that a treadle sewing machine can be used as creatively as any zigzag. Just remember that your first couple of hours with the device are a period of social development, and don't try anything elaborate right away.
The adjustment is greatly simplified by a good book on the operation of the foot powered machine. My favorite is Machine Sewing: A treatise on the care and use of Family Sewing Machines and their attachments especially prepared for teachers of home economics, published by Singer Sewing Machine Co., Inc. of New York in 1923. Check old book sales for this work it's valuable to treadle machine users. (Machine Sewing is no longer available and I can't reproduce any portions of it because the Singer Company's policy does not allow reprinting of the firm's copyrighted publications, Singer, unfortunately, has no other information on treadle machines for sale or free distribution — MOTHER. )
Here are some basic rules to make foot powered sewing easier:
[1] From page 7 of Machine Sewing: "The most comfortable and effective position for treadling is with the ball of the left foot upon the upper left corner of the treadle and the heel of the right foot on the lower right corner. Treadling in this position takes very much less effort than when the feet are placed in any other position." It works.
[2] Always use the same thread on the bobbin as on the head. The two strands must be from the same spool or you'll be fiddling with the tension until you go mad.
[3] The machine has no reverse. Just turn the material around and stitch over any place you wish to reinforce.
[4] The large band wheel that drives my Singer's mechanism is equipped with a belt shifter to remove the leather strap when necessary. I found that this device interfered with the belt and often knocked it off while I was sewing so I tied it to the skirt guard and now remove the band manually.
[5] One of the trickier operations in normal use of the treadle sewer is the replacement of the bed slide (the metal lid that covers the bobbin hole). On my model, this part must be slid under the needle from the right, fitted gently into the grooves on the sides of the opening and pushed to the left.
[6] Get the bobbin tension where you want it, and then learn by experience the proper adjustment for the upper thread. (Some sewing machine owners prefer to reverse the procedure. See Kent Rayman's suggestion in this issue. — MOTHER).
These few precautions make life with a treadle machine much easier. Now that I know my Singer, I love it dearly. When the old gal gets ornery we have a little conference ... and I often find that the problem is really very simple to deal with after all.