From the United States’ bicentennial to this year’s 250th anniversary, historical costumer Henry Cooke, A79, AG84, has been remaking the clothing of 18th-century America
Historical costumer and interpreter Henry Cooke, dressed as a soldier in George Washington’s Continental Army from the 1777 Battle of Saratoga, in clothing he made.
Henry Cooke can’t take more than a few steps at Minuteman National Historical Park in suburban Boston without tourists approaching. They ask if his wool clothes are hot (Yes!) and if his musket works (Also, yes!). They ask for photos, and he’s always happy to oblige.
Cooke, A79, AG84, volunteers at the park, and other historical sites, as a historical interpreter. He’s often clad as his Revolutionary War-era alter-ego, Hopestill Bradley—a real farmer, tailor, and minuteman from Braintree, Mass.—in a tri-corner hat, double-breasted coat, and wool mohair breeches. Sometimes he wears a minister’s dense gray wig, or he dons the colors of a unit in George Washington’s Continental Army.
He’s not just playing these historic figures—he’s recreating their outfits, from the leather shoes to the linen undershirts. Cooke’s mother taught him to sew as a child and, when he got involved in historical reenactments, he quickly realized that skill would be useful. Fifty years later, he’s a leading tailor of 18th-century American clothing.
Cooke, who founded Historical Costume Services after earning bachelor’s and master’s degrees in history from Tufts, makes replica clothing and repairs original items. His customers are fellow reenactors and historical interpreters, museums, and even the U.S. Navy—he makes uniforms for the officers on the USS Constitution.
With the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence approaching, Cooke spoke with Tufts Now about why it’s as important as ever to keep the memory of the founding of the United States alive.
How did you get started doing historical reenactments?
When I was in high school, my guidance counselor said if I was going to go to college, I needed to have extracurricular activities. This is 1974, and he said there was this minuteman group starting in Randolph, Mass., and maybe I should join them. I have been doing living history in various forms ever since.
Historical costumer Henry Cooke has been creating, and wearing, Revolutionary War-era outfits for 50 years. Video: Anna Miller
When did you start making your own costumes?
That happened very early. When I first got involved, the only clothing patterns that were available to us were from something called Sketchbook 76. But they were little more than sketches of pattern pieces and a drawing of what the finished object should look like.
When I was a college student, I started making historical clothing for myself. A lot of the guys in the unit would say, “Hey, I need an extra shirt, can you make me one?”
When I finished my master’s program, I was putting out résumés. I had done internships in archives, in museum collections, and assumed I would end up doing something like that, but I was competing with people with Ph.D.s for entry-level jobs. I decided that I’d make clothing until something better came along. That was 1984 and I’m still waiting.
What lengths do you go to make your pieces historically accurate?
It begins with patterns. When I first started making clothing, I would do documentary research about particular military units during the Revolution. I was getting permission to take patterns off original garments.
The biggest challenge was getting the correct materials. One of my current projects, I’m working with a friend and colleague who portrays John Adams. We are reproducing a plum-colored velvet suit that Adams wore when he was working on the peace treaty [to end the Revolutionary War]. I searched all over to try to find the correct materials. We are getting our velvet from Lyon, France—and it may be the same textile mill that made the silk velvet for John Adams’ suit in 1778.
Why does that level of historical accuracy matter?
One of my friends came up with the phrase, “Look at us, think of them.” To visitors to historic sites, we are a stand-in for the people of the past. You’re taking people on a time-traveling adventure, and those details help set the scene of our historical drama.
For those of us who are serious about imparting those stories, and the complexity of that historical narrative, it’s important to honor the memories of the people that we are standing in for.
Why is it important for people to engage with living history?
As we approach the 250th anniversary, with the political climate we live in today, there’s a lot of talk about what it is that the founding generation created through the Declaration of Independence, through the Constitution. People are interested in finding out where we came from as a people.
I think there are lessons we can still learn from the history of the American Revolution—that these things are survivable, and we’ll get through this again.
Has the work of reenactors changed since the United States’ bicentennial in 1976?
The living history community today is a lot better. We’re a lot more steeped in the history and the culture. We’ve had 50 years of research to figure things out.
During the Bicentennial, a lot of what we did was focused on battle reenactments. Reenactors are still out there, but the term has been supplanted in many circles by “living history interpreters.” We are studying the past, we are interpreting it, filtering it, and sharing it with a wider audience.
Many of the young people who are in living history are historical professionals. They work at historic sites, they work in museums, they work in libraries, and they’re just wonderful history geeks—much like me. But the level of sophistication, the level of knowledge they bring to what we do, their level of zeal, is tremendous.
What have you learned from studying original 18th-century garments?
The clothing is a mold of the body that lived within it. I’ve studied Ben Franklin’s clothing, John Adams’s clothing, John Hancock’s clothing. You get an understanding and an appreciation of the humanity and the physicality of these people.
Franklin, I always thought, was this pudgy little guy. But he had a very muscular upper body because he was pulling on a printer’s beam throughout his career, and he loved to swim. He had the body of a swimmer.
That has had a profound effect upon me, seeing even iconic people as real human beings rather than magical figures. And that’s something I love to share with people.
What do you hope that people take away from an encounter with you, or with clothing you’ve made?
I hope anybody who listens to me talk about the Revolutionary era comes away with a better understanding of the past and how it fits in with who we are today, and maybe where we’re headed and how we can be part of influencing that.
The human mind and the human hand working together could create things of great beauty, great utility, great elegance, and—if you look at what our founders did—great durability. They didn’t use AI to create the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution. They used their heads, their knowledge, their caring about the world—and they were capable of creating something that would endure.