Alletha F. F. Ourand

Samplers made in Washington and environs are relatively rare and have been the subject of study by scholars and curators in the sampler world for some years. Notable is the excellent book, Columbia’s Daughters, Girlhood Embroidery from the District of Columbia by Gloria Seaman Allen (Chesapeake Book Company, Baltimore, Maryland, 2021). Dr. Allen included documentation of this specific sampler, signed, “Alletha F. F. Ourand Aged 12 Years May 20 1839.” 

Many alphabets and numerical progressions fill much of the sampler, with her initials and the year filling space at the end of the fifth row. Below that in tiny stitched lettering is a poem from the Christian funeral hymn written by Reginald Heber (the Bishop of Calcutta) and published posthumously in 1827. See below for the transcription. 

We are pleased that recent genealogical research regarding the samplermaker and her family adds further interest. Alletha Frances Findley Ourand was born in Maryland on May 20, 1827, one of 13 children born to Elijah and Catharine (Pickrell) Ourand. The family in America originated with Alletha’s grandfather, Johan Jacob Ourand (1753-1811), who was born in Prussia and emigrated in 1773, arriving in Philadelphia. Elijah served in several positions in Washington, including watchman, messenger and clerk of the Treasury Department. 

In 1848, Alletha married Thomas Potter and they had four children. Thomas died in 1863 and Alletha married George Martin, by whom she had one child. The 1870 census finds the family living in Washington where George was a clerk with the Treasury Department, as was Alletha’s father. When she died in 1879, notice was published in the Evening Star newspaper. She is buried in Glenwood Cemetery in Washington, along with many family members. 

The sampler was worked in silk on linen and is in excellent condition. It has been conservation mounted and is in a beveled mahogany frame.

Transcription of verse: “Beneath our feet and o'er our head is equal warning given / Beneath us lie the countless dead, above us is the heaven / Their names are graven on the stone their bones are in the clay/ And ere another day is done our selves may be as they.”