The Regency World of author Lesley-Anne McLeod

The Regency Army Officer by Guest Blogger Diane Gaston

2012-01-27T08:00:00.000-08:00

Thank you for having me as a guest, Lesley-Anne!

Part of what I love about the Regency period is the drama of the Napoleonic War and its culmination, the Battle of Waterloo. I'm the daughter of a U.S. Army colonel, so it seems logical to me that my favorite kind of hero in a Regency romance is a military one, especially a hero who has been “wounded” by the war in some kind of way.

My last three books indulged this military passion of mine. My Three Soldiers series (Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady; Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress; Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy) tells the stories of three British officers who all share a horrific event after the siege of Badajoz, when the British army ran amok plundering and pillaging for three days. The experience the men share affects their whole lives.

During the Regency, a career in the military was a sought after life course for younger sons of the aristocracy, sons of the gentry and the upwardly mobile middle class. It was not a way to make one’s fortune, but was considered a respectable occupation.

The attraction of the military for young men probably had more to do with a desire for adventure and glory. The pay officers received, especially at the lower ranks, often did not cover their expenses, which included paying for his horse, uniforms, and other supplies. Some officers even brought their own servants with them, and most depended upon allowances from their families to fund their needs.

Not only did the officer have to subsidize his army career with his own funds, he had to pay to become an officer in the first place. Officers purchased their commissions and paid for their promotions. Typically the family purchased for their 16 to 19 year old son the rank of ensign or lieutenant for the infantry (coronet for the cavalry). No military training was expected, nor was it provided. The ensign learned on the job, often taught what to do by his sergeant whose path in the army was an entirely different one.

Advancement to the higher ranks – Lieutenant, Captain, etc. – required more money. In order to advance, a commission had to become available, usually because a higher ranked officer had an opportunity to purchase his own promotion. An one time a young man could advance as high as his parents could afford to pay, but in 1795 the Duke of York instituted some reforms so that a specified period of time in rank was required before a man could purchase a promotion.

There were other ways for officers to advance, especially in wartime. An officer could earn a field promotion if the higher ranked officer was killed and a replacement was immediately needed. He might also be promoted because of an act of extraordinary valor. Called a “Forlorn Hope,” those men who volunteered to be the first to storm the walls of a fortress, were promised promotions. It was called a “Forlorn Hope” because their chances of survival were minimal.

Other valorous acts could earn a man a promotion. If you have ever read the Sharpe books or watched the old TV series, Sharpe earned his promotions by valorous acts. In fact, Sharpe was promoted from the enlisted ranks because he saved Wellington’s life.

Officers, even in wartime, could virtually come and go as they pleased. They could request leaves of absence whenever they liked and they could leave the army whenever they chose by selling their commissions and returning to civilian life.

If an officer was not needed for active service they could be placed on half pay, which sounds just like what it was. The officer could be called back into service at any time and his commission was not open for purchase.

After Waterloo, when peace returned to Europe, the army needed to downsize and entire regiments were disbanded, their officers put on half pay. Available slots in active regiments became few and far between, so the men who wanted to be officers had dramatically fewer opportunities. This is the situation my hero finds himself in the third of the books, Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy.

I’m not an expert about the British Army in the Napoleonic Wars but if you have any questions, I’d be glad to try to answer them.

I’ll give away one signed copy of the first in my series, Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady, to one lucky commenter chosen at random.

Diane Gaston is the award-winning author of Regency Historical Romance whose latest books feature soldier heroes. Diane’s awards include a RITA for Best Regency Romance, a National Readers Choice Award, the Golden Quill, the Orange Rose (now called Booksellers Best), and most recently, a Holt Medallion Award of Merit. Diane’s books are released by Mills & Boon Historical, Harlequin Historical, and other Harlequin branches world-wide. The last book in Diane’s Three Soldiers series, Valiant Soldier, Beautiful Enemy, was released in September, 2011, in North America, and December, 2011, in the UK. You can visit Diane at her website, and at her blog.

Love's Vocabulary

2012-01-20T11:12:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day is coming, and so it seems appropriate to discuss 'Love's Vocabulary'. It is a common phrase; a Google search will bring up hundreds of results. But one writer in the early 19th century had an interesting take on the idea, and wrote elegant, scathing definitions of the words that describe the participants, the emotions, and the activities involved in the romantic state we call 'love'.

Sun -- All comparisons of one's mistress to the sun, the stars, etc. are out of date. They are all so hackneyed, that even poetry rejects them. One modern poet, indeed, has ventured to compare his mistress to the sun, because, like him, she was a common benefit, and shone on all alike."

We don't know the name of the writer of this brief, clever glossary. It was first published, I believe, in the April and May issues of the Lady's Monthly Museum for 1801. Portions appeared a year later in The Lady's Magazine and Musical Repository, without any attribution. Then in 1811, selections from the same essay were published in an American magazine, The Lady's Miscellany and Weekly Visitor.

Women are not always cast in a good light:

Coquette - One who wants to engage the men without engaging herself, whose chief aim is to be thought agreeable, handsome, amiable; though a composition of levity and vanity.

But neither are men:

Danglers - An insipid tribe of triflers, with whom the women divert themselves, in perfect innocence, when they have nothing better to do. They are in a class of beings beneath their monkeys, parrots, and lap-dogs.

The entries speak of manipulation:

Absence - "How dear is my absence from you going to cost me! How tedious will the hours seem!" This signifies precisely, "If I was always with you, my stock of fine speeches would be soon exhausted. I should have nothing new to say to you: when I see you again, you will like me better."

And of pain:

Cruelty - This expression does no so much signify the insensibility of a mistress, as the impatience of a lover.

And the writer seems to have a particular point to make about:

Matrimony - A term, which is the stale topic of ridicule to witlings, libertines, and coxcombs; and a term of the utmost respect among the virtuous and sensible. It is, like patriotism, the most noble motive, and the most infamous pretext. It is the paradise of the wise, and the hell of fools. At present, the fashion is, properly speaking, to commit matrimony; since on the footing that things are, it is rather a crime than a virtue; since, often, no nobler a view determines to it, than sends a highwayman to Hounslow heath; to wit, ---the taking of a purse. Sordid interest is now the great master of ceremonies to Hymen, of which it pollutes the sanctuary, and dishonours the worship. Parents who sacrifice their children to it are worse than the Ammonites, who burned theirs in honour to Moloch; at least the pain of those wretched victims was momentary; whilst the pain of those sold for interest is a lingering one, and often as sure as death.

I hope you have enjoyed these excerpts from the 'Vocabulary' of this astute, insightful writer; I wish we knew his/her name. I wonder if it is one we would recognize.

Next week, Diane Gaston, award-winning author of Regency Historical Romance, will visit to talk about 'Regency Army Officers'. She will also be giving away an autographed copy of the first in her series, Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady, to a randomly chosen commenter. Please join us then!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Address of the City of Edinburgh to the Prince Regent, November 1813

2012-01-14T14:04:00.000-08:00

I am little late with my blog this week as I have been devoting all my time to the completion of my work-in-progress "The Earl's Peculiar Burden" which will be released in June of this year by Uncial Press.

I just sent the manuscript off to my editor. With apologies for a lack of opinion and discussion in this week's post, I offer the following Address to the Prince Regent from the columns of the Edinburgh Annual Register for 1813 for your delectation. It is particularly interesting in light of the recent discussions in Britain on Scottish independence:

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Fantoccini Man

2012-01-06T12:08:00.000-08:00

"This was an exhibition called the Fantoccini, and far superior to any of the street performances which I have yet seen."W. Wells Brown, Three Years in Europe

We are all familiar with the Punch and Judy show, that staple of the Victorian seaside, long presented in the streets of the cities of Britain. But there was another street performer who eclipsed Punch's popularity briefly and was the delight of crowds of children and adults.

http://www.uab.edu/english/hone/etexts/edb/day-pages/226-aug14.html

The Fantoccini man was well-known in the Regency era. Fantoccini is the Italian word for puppets, particularly puppets operated by strings. We know them as 'marionettes' a name which overtook 'fantocinni' in popularity in the middle years of the nineteenth century.

The Fantoccini had a long history. They were brought from Italy, as was Punch, and their popularity soared in the eighteenth century. They were exhibited, with performances, in small theatres all over Britiain. An exhibition is reported at Hickford's Room, James Street in the Haymarket, in 1770. And in 1780 there was another presentation, at No. 22 Piccadilly.

But it was a Scotsman named Gray who is credited with taking the Fantoccini into the streets of London.

"He was a very clever fellow--very good, and there was nothing but what was good that belonged to it--scenery, dresses, theatre and all."

It appears that he operated in the first decades of the nineteenth century. His stage was about the size of a Punch and Judy theatre, and his figures were about nine inches high. He made, by all accounts, a very good living performing in the streets as well as in theatres, and eventually presented a show for George IV.

Typical street show of puppets

The quotes in this post (but for the first and last) are taken from the reminiscences of a Fantoccini man (never actually named) published in the book, London Labour and the London Poor by Henry Mayhew in 1851. This man, aged about fifty-five years, had worked in street performance nearly all his life. At one time, he was employed with a Mr. Seawood who used the 'dancing figures' and he learned the trade from Seawood. He realized the possibilities of the craft and he began to make his own frame (stage) and figures.

"Now my figures are two feet high, though they don't look it; but my theatre is ten feet high by six foot wide, and the opening is four feet high."

No small feat, to transport this apparatus around London--"..cornerpitching, as we call it; that is, at the corner of a street where there is a lot of people passing." The Fantoccini man must have employed a porter to assist him. Certainly he did employ a musician--pandean pipes--"I didn't like to make my first appearance in London without music". He carved his own fantoccini, and took pride in costuming them in fine dress.

He made a fine career of the Fantoccini and made excellent money from his creations, "Where Punch took a shilling we've taken a pound". He operated in direct competition to Gray and, it seems, soon eclipsed the other.

He described for Mayhew his programme, thus:

"We begins with a female hornpipe dancer; then there is a set of quadrilles...After this we introduces a representation of Mr. Grimaldi the clown, who does tumbling and posturing, and a comic dance. Then comes the enchanted Turk. ... The next performance is the old lady...then there's the tight-rope dancer, and next the Indian juggler...the Polander, who balances a pole and two chairs...then comes the Skeletons...it frightens the children... The performance, to go through the whole of it, takes an hour and a half..."

Certainly an extensive show--and this Fantoccini man undertook, as well as his street work, evening parties, Christmas parties, and even performed for Princess Victoria, and the Duke of Wellington! It must have been delightful.

W. Wells Brown, whose quote opened this post, also said,

"Many who would turn away in disgust from Mr. Punch, will stand for hours and look at the performances of the Fantoccini...they can hardly fail to have a hearty laugh..There may be degrees of absurdity in the manner of wasting our time, but there is an evident affectation in decrying these humble and innocent exhibitions,..."

Would that we could experience such a charming performance on our chill and crowded streets...

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

“There is Not so Gay a Town...” Florida in the Regency Era by Guest Blogger Darlene Marshall

2011-12-30T08:00:00.000-08:00

In 1812 a plucky band of men of diverse races, nationalities and backgrounds came together to defend their homes from foreign invaders intent on seizing their land and destroying their way of life.

The invaders were the Americans, and the defenders were the men of East Florida.


St. Augustine City Gates b.1808

A little known and embarrassing piece of US history is the “Patriots War”, a foray by the United States to seize Spanish East Florida, a land of British and Spanish settlers, free blacks, runaway slaves, European adventurers and Indians. Florida was under British control from 1763-1784, a haven for British Loyalists fleeing south during the American Revolution. The British Governor of Florida, James Grant, described St. Augustine during this period: “There is not so gay a Town in America as this is at present…Major Small with the band of the 21st has turned all their Heads. His Colonel has not escaped the infection, he is as young as any of them, danced till twelve last night at the Weekly assembly, then carried the ladys [sic] home to sup at his house and after they went away…got drunk with their partners till six in the morning.”¹ Tory refugees swelled East Florida’s population from 6,000 to over 17,000 persons by the end of the war, and the British continued to play a strong role in St. Augustine society when control returned to Spain in 1784, as Spain could not put a great deal of effort into maintaining its colony in Florida while it fought wars in Europe and the Caribbean.

The American government wanted control of Florida for a number of reasons: to protect New Orleans and Mississippi traffic in the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase, to keep Great Britain from having a southern foothold on the continent where it could affect American shipping and to stop slaves from running to freedom in Spanish Florida. The status of blacks, free or slave, was different in Spanish areas than in America. In St. Augustine free blacks served in the militia and owned land. Slaves could purchase their freedom and that of family members, and the Church supported educating blacks and ran a free school. It was not a paradise, but to the slaves in the United States it was a far better life with greater opportunities than what they had, plus some runaways hid amongst the Indians in Florida giving rise to the Black Seminoles. The armed blacks in the St. Augustine militia worried southern Americans so much that they pressured the US federal government to do something about Florida.

Historian James G. Cusick says, “If you want a three-sentence summary of a very complicated story, it runs like this: In March 1812 an agent for the U.S. government used American forces to seize a border town in Florida, an action that severely embarrassed the administration of President James Madison. However, when war broke out with Great Britain a few months later, the Madison administration decided to leave American troops in Florida, and the state of Georgia used its militia to reinforce them. As a result, for the next two years, angry American citizens in Georgia and angry Spanish subjects in Florida slugged it out in a kind of no man’s land at the edge of a bigger conflict.”²

St. Augustine Light b.1824

The defenders of St. Augustine fought fiercely because they knew their freedom was at risk, but it was ultimately a losing cause. When America legally acquired Florida from Spain in 1819 the territorial government began rolling back the rights of free blacks and imposing harsher US standards of slavery. Many of the free blacks who could fled to Havana. Wealthy landowner Anna Kingsley went so far as to make her daughters marry white men who could uphold their property rights.³ By the end of the 1820s St. Augustine was transitioning from a cosmopolitan British and European city of frivolity and fiestas to a staid American small town, its glory days of pirates, adventurers and invaders mostly behind it.

Notes:
¹ The Oldest City—St. Augustine Saga of Survival, Jean Parker Waterbury, Ed.
²The Other War of 1812—The Patriot War and the American Invasion of Spanish East Florida, James G. Cusick
³ Anna Madgigine Jai Kingsley—African Princess, Florida Slave, Plantation Slaveowner, Daniel L. Schafer

Darlene Marshall is an award-winning author of Regency-era romance set in Florida and the Caribbean. Her latest novel, Sea Change, is available in print and digital editions. For more information: www.darlenemarshall.com

Sea Change blurb: “Before the day is done, Charley Alcott must survive an attack by privateers, perform surgery at sea, and ensure that Captain Davy Fletcher never discovers his prisoner is actually Charlotte Alcott. Her adventure is just beginning.”

Before the Victorian Christmas

2011-12-16T11:07:00.000-08:00

The Christmas we celebrate is a Victorian invention, a result of the nostalgia of such 19th century writers as Walter Scott, Leigh Hunt and Washington Irving, for a tradition that may have never existed.

In 1807, Robert Southey wrote:

All persons say how differently this season was observed in their fathers' days, and speak of old ceremonies and old festivities as things which are obsolete.

'Merrie Old England' was a creation of Walter Scott who said in Marmion, his epic poem of 1808:

England was merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again.

But the Examiner newspaper reported in 1817:

Merry Old England died in the country a great while ago; and the sports, the pastimes, the holidays, the Christmas greens and gambols...

The truth is that before the Victorians 'invented' Christmas trees, and Christmas dinners, and revived the Yule log, and Wassailing, many of the traditions of Christmas were regional, fostered by small closed societies created by difficulties of transportation and communication.

Some of the old traditions are the most interesting--many of them lost to use, but some revived for the 21st century. A few are familiar all over Britain, most are decidedly regional.

Trial of Old Father Christmas
1686

Father Christmas - was a character evolved from the Saxon King Frost (also sometimes called Father Time or Father Winter), the Viking god Odin and his winter character Jul, and of course the Norman St. Nicholas. There are indications that he was occasionally know as Old Father Christmas, Sir Christmas and Lord Christmas. From the 15th century a carol offers: "Welcome, my lord, Sire Chistemas! Welcome to us all, both more and less!"Suffice it to say that every era had its traditional, benevolent, gift-giving figure.

Thomasing or 'gooding' - St. Thomas's Day, December 21, was a day for the poor to collect money (doles) for Christmas use.

Barring Out - usually occurred on St. Nicholas's Day, December 6 when the students of a school would lock out the staff, and keep them out until certain demands were met.

Boar's Head - was an ancient ceremony which did not actually occur at Christmas but somewhat earlier in the month--around December 16. The boar's head was a luxury dish, and the ceremony is mentioned in writings of 1603 and, it is said, has been performed at Queen's College Oxford since the 14th century.

Ashen Faggot - a Christmas Eve custom similar to the Yule log but limited to the west counties. A bundle of ash branches is burned to the accompaniment of cider drinking and singing while the bands holding the bundle burst.

A stern St. Nicholas 1810

Mumming - a house visitation practice which takes, in different areas, many different forms. The Hooden Horse in Kent, the Old Horse in Derbyshire, geese-dancing in Cornwall (derived from the word 'guise' meaning disguised), are only a few. In all cases the house visitors either performed set plays, or "engaged in licensed misbehaviour".

Sante-Claus 1821
predating Clement C. Moore's poem

Then there was Cattle Kneeling, Holy Thorn, Vessel Cups, and events such as 'Ringing the Devil's Knell' on Christmas Eve. All these practices and more are discussed in the excellent book "The English Year" by Steve Roud from Penguin Ltd.

Who knows which of the traditions each Regency family may have observed, but Christmas was then, as it is now, a time for family and charity, a time of love and a hope for peace. I hope that you enjoy all the delights and blessings of Christmas-tide, however you celebrate.

I will be taking a break from my blog next week, and on December 30, guest blogger Darlene Marshall will be here discussing Regency-era Florida.

Join me January 6, 2012 for a New Year of Regency research!

'Til then, all the best,

Lesley-Anne

The Bequests of Queen Charlotte, Consort of George III

2011-12-09T11:38:00.000-08:00

Portrait by Stroehling 1807

On November 17, 1818, her Most Excellent Majesty Queen Charlotte, wife and consort of King George III for fifty-seven years, died aged seventy-four. She was buried at the Royal Chapel of St. George, Windsor, on the 2nd of December.

The previous day her Will was proved in Doctors' Commons. Lord Arden and General Taylor were the executors and also Trustees for property left to Princesses Elizabeth and Mary. General Taylor had written the will for the Queen on November 16; the witnesses were Sir Francis Millman and Sir Henry Halford--both attending physicians.

The Queen's will directs that her debts and legacies be paid from her personal property, said to be under £140,000.

Her Majesty states her property to consist of a real estate in New Windsor, called the Lower Lodge, and of personals of various description; those of the greatest value being her jewels,...

The unmarried Princess Augusta Sophia was given "the house and ground at Frogmore, and the Shawe establishment", and all its household appurtenances. The Princess Sophia, her youngest daughter, was given the property in New Windsor.

Her books, plate, house linen, china, pictures, drawings, prints, all articles of ornamental furniture, and all other valuables and personals, she directs to be divided in equal shares, according to a valuation to be made, amongst her four younger daughters.

In the end all this material, even her clothes and her snuff, was sold by Chrisitie's auction house, from May to August 1819. It is to be hoped that her daughters did indeed receive the money from the sale, at least.

Certain personal property that Charlotte had brought with her to England from Mecklenburg-Strelitz was directed to be sent back to the senior branch of that House. She also directed that the jewels which the King presented to her should be given to the House of Hanover "as an heir-loom" should George not recover or long survive her.

Her jewels comprised three categories:

1. Those which the King purchased for £50,000 and presented to her

2. Those presented to her by the Nawab [nabob] of Arcot.

3. Those purchased by herself or being presents made on birthdays or other occasions.

Queen Charlotte directed that the Arcot diamonds were to be sold and the proceeds divided amongst the four youngest daughters. The rest of the jewels were to be apportioned equally to the four princesses.

Two of the Arcot diamonds

There was, however, a problem in implementing the will with regard to the jewels--the Prince Regent appropriated them all.

The Arcot diamonds ended up in a crown made especially for him as George IV. They were not recovered and sold, along with the other jewelry, until 1837. It was only then that the terms of Queen Charlotte's will were fully executed, in the year of the accession of her granddaughter Victoria.

The King of Hanover had eventually to sue for the jewels that Queen Charlotte had intended for his House. They were not handed over until the reign of Queen Victoria. Some of Charlotte's possessions may be viewed at the Royal Collection


Charlotte's opal ring

My main source of information for this post comes from the Annual Register of 1818--Chronicle section, for December. In that article, at least, no mention is made of any bequests to her seven surviving sons. Only the six daughters of Charlotte and George are recipients of legacies. Interesting....

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Source: The Annual Register for 1818 is available free for download from Google Books.

Breach of Promise of Marriage

2011-12-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

You can no longer pursue an action in the courts for 'Breach of Promise of Marriage' in Great Britain or in North America. Changing times and social mores have precluded the necessity for such legal action.

But in Regency times, such actions were brought against gentlemen who had slipped a little in honour--a word that held men to a very high standard.

I have come across two cases of Breach of Promise of Marriage reported in contemporary Regency journals. The first--Fitzgerald v. Hawkesworth--appeared in the Derby Mercury (a publication that commenced in 1732 and continued for more than 200 years) on the 31st of May, 1804:

The second court case--Hardenn v. Causton--comes from 1818 and was reported in the Annual Register of that year. The proceedings are rather lengthy so I have selected a few interesting portions to reproduce:

The plaintiff, who was represented to be a young lady of great personal attractions, singular amiability of disposition and possessing an accomplished and well-cultivated mind, is the daughter of a respectable tradesman residing at Hatfield, in this county; and the defendant is a gentleman of independent fortune, lately retired from the business of a printer, which he carried on in Finch-lane, Cornhill.

From 1809 to 1817, these two carried on a 'voluminous correspondence'. In one letter the defendant said "I will marry you as soon as circumstances will permit".

This intimacy continued down till May 1817, when the defendant wrote to the plaintiff, announcing that the best mode of terminating the anxious suspense which she had always expressed, was to break off the connexion, and think no more of matrimony;...declaring his own intention of breaking off the match.

The defendant was asked to 'consider again of his rash determination', but he did not respond to this suggestion and so action was taken by the lady. The court case, complete with jury, followed.

The Jury retired for about an hour, and on their return, found a verdict for the plaintiff. Damages, Four Thousand Pounds.

A substantial sum in penalty--but the defendant had inherited 10,000 pounds during the course of the legal case, and so was well able to pay for his freedom from the Promise of Marriage.

A woman's reputation was her pride, her joy, and her protection, in those fiercely patriarchal days. A broken engagement could damage that reputation beyond repair. It was necessary therefore that the legal system protect her from the consequences of a gentleman's dishonour, and obviously the system worked.

It's a romantic notion--Breach of Promise of Marriage--and many novelists have put it to good use. But it came down to brass--money--and saved many a woman from a penniless and harrowing future.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The World's Most Famous Cow by Guest Blogger Laurie Alice Eakes

2011-11-25T09:09:00.000-08:00

Since we are discussing the Regency era, the long one often employed for the purposes of novels, you know I do not refer to the infamous cow who allegedly kicked over the lantern and started the Great Chicago fire of 1871. I refer to Blossom, a dairy cow and her dairymaid Sarah Nelmes.

The story began a century before the Regency. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu brought the practice of variolazation from the Ottoman Empire, to England. Variolazation is the practice of taking live smallpox infection from a sick person and introducing the infection to a healthy person in a small dose. Usually the person suffered a light case of smallpox that protected him from contracting the disease in its too often lethal form (between 20 and 33% of adults died from smallpox, as much as 80% of babies, and those who survived were usually scarred and/or blinded).

The practice continued throughout the eighteenth century with enough success that people risked their health and potentially their looks, to having the variegation performed upon them. But folklore claimed that dairymaids did not contract smallpox, as a rule even when exposed to it. Physicians ignored this as country folk nonsense.

Then Edward Jenner came along.

He was a vicar’s son from Berkeley, Gloucestershire, who began his apprenticeship to be a surgeon at the age of thirteen—1772. His studies carried him to the home of someone with smallpox. He had gone through variolazation, so did not fear the disease. And neither did a dairymaid, who offered to nurse the sick person because she had had the cowpox. Despite the master surgeon’s scoffing of the notion, Jenner’s interest was piqued.

In 1796, Jenner took pus from sores on the hands of Sarah Nelmes, who had contracted cowpox from Blossom, and scratched the infected matter into the skin of an eight-year-old boy. Jenner later deliberately infected the boy with smallpox. He did not contract the disease. Jenner tried again. Again, the boy did not contract the disease.

Gentle reader, let me say that we are a bit horrified that he would do this to an eight-year-old child who had likely given no say in whether or not he was used as an experiment. But we owe this child a great deal, as smallpox, according to the World Health Organization, has been eradicated for nearly forty years.

But back to our tale.

Jenner tried to get the Royal Society to sponsor him. He failed. Most surgeons and physicians thought him a little mad. It did not discourage him. He continued his research and experiments—yes, with real human subjects. I am hopeful that these were adults who consented.

The Cow Pock by Gillray--Vaccination causing cows to happen!

By the Regency, Jenner’s ideas were growing in acceptance. Medical societies were formed around immunization research, and by 1840, Great Britain outlawed the use of variolazation to immunize against smallpox. To this day, we refer to those nasty shots against disease as vaccinations from the Latin vaca, which means cow.

You can find more about Edward Jenner and Blossom, including pictures of her horns, at http://www.jennermuseum.com/

Award-winning author Laurie Alice Eakes wanted to be a writer since knowing what one was. Her first book won the National Readers Choice Award in 2007, and her third book was a Carol Award finalist in 2010. Having her first book with Baker/Revell, Lady in the Mist, picked up by Crossings Book Club, and six of her books; have been chosen for large print editions by Thorndike Press. She has been a public speaker for as long as she can remember; thus, only suffers enough stage fright to keep her sharp. In 2002, while in graduate school for writing fiction, she began to teach fiction in person and online. She lives in Virginia with her husband, two dogs, and probably too many cats.

Visit Laurie at her website http://www.lauriealiceeakes.com

Princess Mary, 'the family beauty'

2011-11-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

Princess Mary, aged 6

Princess Mary, eleventh of the fifteen children of George III and Queen Charlotte, and the fourth daughter, was born in 1776. The children of George III lived restricted lives, and his daughters' lives were particularly proscribed. Marriage was discouraged, and the younger ones had to wait until their elder sisters were wed, which was problematic for Augusta, 1768-1840, never did marry.

Mary, accredited as the family beauty, made her debut in 1792. She fell in love with a Dutch prince, Frederik, sometime around 1796 but was not permitted to marry him, as Augusta and Elizabeth were still spinsters. He died in 1799, and Mary's life took on the bleak aspect that she was to share with sisters Augusta and Elizabeth, until she married in 1816.

Mary was twenty when her niece Charlotte was born to George Prince of Wales and his detested wife Caroline. George III was delighted by the grandchild. Mary commented in a letter "Papa...loves little girls best." Mary's life was of necessity closely entwined with that of her niece. Mary, Augusta, Elizabeth and later Sophia and Amelia lived in their mother's thrall in a household they secretly called the 'Nunnery'. Charlotte spent a great deal of time with them during her childhood.

Princess Mary about 1815

Princess Amelia died in 1810 and George III slipped into insanity, and George Prince of Wales slipped into the Regency. Princess Charlotte, his daughter, feted by the public as heir to the throne, with the fickleness of youth, alternately loved and hated her aunts. In 1813, to Charlotte's great annoyance, Mary opened the dancing at a ball specifically given for Charlotte.

Oddly enough, Princess Mary and her niece (who shared a marked family resemblance) became mild rivals over two of the few eligible gentlemen permitted their acquaintance.

At thirty-seven, Mary was quite enamoured of Leopold of Saxe-Coburg despite that he was thirteen years her junior. At the time, Charlotte was contemplating marriage with the Prince of Orange--Slender Billy--whom she later jilted In her boredom and resentment, she began to flirt with her second cousin William Frederick, Duke of Gloucester. He was thirty-eight! In the end, Charlotte wed Leopold, and Mary was married to Gloucester.

It was Mary's wedding dress that first piqued my interest in her. A description of the dress appeared in the Repository of Arts in the August 1816 issue:

The dress is composed of silver tissue, superbly trimmed with two flounces of scolloped lama, worked in pineapple pattern, each flounce headed with three weltings of lama-work. The body and sleeves, which are worked to correspond, are trimmed, in a style perfectly novel, with beautiful Brussels point lace. The robe of silver tissue is lined with white satin, and trimmed round with a most superb border of lama-work, which corresponds with the dress; it fastens at the waist by a superb diamond clasp. Her Royal Highness's diamonds were peculiarly fine; her head-dress in particular, which consisted of a superb wreath of diamonds, was much admired; and the general effects of her dress was strikingly beautiful.

The strategies which Mary used to effect her marriage are not now known. Her father was incapable of objection; her mother was within two years of her death. The Prince Regent was inclined to permit his sisters more freedom. All of these things may have combined to allow Mary to escape the stifling world of the 'Nunnery'. She was not marrying for love. Apparently the Duke of Gloucester was without personal charm. He was nicknamed "The Cheese, a stolid, unimaginative soul, but much taken with his Princess. She appeared unenthusiastic on their wedding day, but was prepared to do what she must to gain the freedom of marriage. Later, Charlotte wrote: "I cannot say she looks the picture of happiness or as if she was much delighted with him."

Princess Charlotte of Wales died in November, 1817, a year before her aunt Elizabeth married and her grandmother Queen Charlotte died. The Princess Victoria, Charlotte's cousin was born in 1819 and, with her, a new world quivered into being.

Princess Mary, Duchess of Gloucester had no children, but became the future queen's favourite aunt. The Duke of Gloucester died in 1834, but Mary lived another twenty-two more years. She died in April 1857, aged 81. She was the only one of George III's fifteen children to have been photographed.


Princess Mary far right 1856 aged 80

Her companions are Queen Victoria, the future Edward VII, and little Princess Alice. I find that link from Regency times to Victorian fascinating.

Next week, Regency author Laurie Alice Eakes will be visiting. More details to come!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Sea and the Sky--Artist Robert Salmon

2011-11-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

I know little of the ocean. I am a prairie person born and bred. Though I have seen both the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans, I have not lived near either. I cannot know the profound effect that the sea, and the nautical life it engenders, can have on a society or on an individual. It is a great drawback for a writer of books set in England, where the ocean has informed all the country's history.

East Indiaman 'Warley' by Robert Salmon 1804

I am aided in my understanding of the sea by marine artists. And I just discovered Robert Salmon 1775-1845. He was born in Whitehaven, Cumberland in 1775 of Scottish descent. His name originally was Salomon; he changed the spelling around 1800. He is an enigmatic figure--nothing is known of his artistic training, little is documented of his personal life. Even his date of death is uncertain.


View of Liverpool from Cheshire

Salmon displayed occasionally at the Royal Academy in London from 1802 on. He settled in Liverpool in 1806 and lived there until 1811. A body of work from that period survives and is in the National Maritime Museum, London.

The first Mail Packet from Liverpool to Glasgow 1805

Old Bidston Lighthouse near Liverpool

In 1812 Salmon removed to Scotland and lived in Greenock until 1822. A great number of paintings survive from those years. I am particularly drawn to the skies in his work--I think they show him influenced by Turner, though his style is thought to be guided by 17th century Dutch marine painters. Look at the skies in these paintings:

Curious Rocks on the Coast of Scotland

Moonlight Coastal Scene

View of Greenock 1816

Salmon returned to Liverpool in 1822 where he worked until 1825.

An armed merchant vessel passing the Custom House, Greenock on the Clyde

Neward Castle with a distant View of Port Glasgow

In 1828, Robert Salmon emigrated to America.

Land's End, Cornwall

He became one of the greatest marine artists in that country. Salmon influenced a whole new generation of artists in America, and produced an immense body of work. I have not ventured to even sample it here. He is considered 'the father of American luminism' and painted 300-400 paintings of Boston Harbour alone, working in a studio--some called it a hut--right on the wharves.

Robert Salmon left America in 1842 for Europe. A few works of Italian scenes have been discovered, but it is unknown if he returned to England. The date of his last known work is 1845. His death is thought to have occurred shortly after, but where and when is not clear. He was a solitary man to the end, but he left a great legacy. And I am grateful to have his work to educate me about the sea and its ways.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Adult Orphan Institution

2011-11-04T08:00:00.000-07:00

In my reading recently, I came across mention of the Adult Orphan Institution, also known as the Adult Orphan Asylum. I could not imagine what was meant by this title, and so, research was called for!

The Adult Orphan Institution was established in 1818 in Someries House, a building designed free of charge by John Nash in association with his redevelopment of the area surrounding Regent's Park. It was located on the north of St. Andrew's Place, near Park Square.

A map of 1833 with the location of the Adult Orphan Asylum in red.

The location was salubrious with the greenery of the Park, and opportunities for fresh air and exercise close by. The entire area was one large building site but, it must have been interesting for the inmates of the Asylum, though no doubt noisy and somewhat dirty. Nash's great terraces were rising to the north, Cambridge, Chester and Cumberland, in all their neoclassical glory.

The Adult Orphan Asylum was

"founded for the relief and education of the friendless and orphan daughters of clergymen of the established church, and of military and naval officers..."

It accepted young women aged 14 to 17 to be educated as governesses, "the instructions being of a superior description". The institution was entirely privately funded by donation. Early information is sketchy but in 1831, it was under the patronage of the King and the Princess Augusta. By 1842, the patron was Queen Victoria.

I have recounted the world of the Regency governess in another post. It was not an easy life. The Adult Orphan Institution educated governesses throughout the Victorian era, some 330 by 1861. A writer of the 1860's remarks on the life of the governess:

"...it is usually one of much monotony,--of wearisome exertion, but rarely violent affliction,--with many mortifications..."

This painting of 1844 by Richard Redgrave illustrates the dreary life with the governess sitting in shadow and solitude while the young ladies of the household celebrate the joys of summer together.

Graduates of the Asylum were assured, at least in public literature, of being "provided with situations as governesses in families of the highest respectability". It is to be hoped that the Adult Orphan Institution held to its advertised tenets. The market for governesses, in the mid-19th century, was dominated by 'governess agencies' who were neither as honest nor as reliable as they might have been. One publication says

"...these spurious agencies abound in the central and fashionable parts of London; they are mostly kept by women...mostly governesses who have themselves failed in their profession...but that fact cannot be accepted as an excuse for their dishonesty and greed. Their poverty does not give them a right to take money on false pretences from struggling creatures, who equally poor, or perhaps poorer than themselves, are yet striving to be honest."


A governess, circa 1845 by De Mersseman

I hope that the young women educated by the Adult Orphan Institution found comfortable, safe employment.

Institutions are always open to misuse and venality. Looking back from a great distance at an establishment we know little of, we can only hope that the girls who were forced by circumstance to seek out the Asylum were well-treated, and benefited from the promises of the charity.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

There’s Graphite in Them Thar Hills: The Rise and Fall of Graphite Mining during the Regency by Guest Blogger Regina Scott

2011-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

I belong to the mountains, having been born and raised in the Cascades of Washington State. So towering peaks and water-carved caverns are no mystery to me. When I chose to set my November 2011 and February 2012 novels among the fells of the Lake District in England, however, I was surprised to learn the mountains held something far more valuable than the view: graphite.

It turns out that the soft, greasy black mineral, which the residents of the Lake District called wad or plumbago, was used to line the inside of molds for creating cannon and musket balls. The mold had to be relined frequently. As you can imagine, between the various wars and typical shooting habits, England during the Georgian and Regency periods used a lot of lead balls. The wad from the Lake District was of particularly high quality, which also made it perfect for artists’ pencils. Given all this, the prices for wad soared.

Luckily, it was relatively easy to mine. Unlike in other places around the world, where graphite is often in the form of flakes or shales, England’s Lake District boasts a very pure form of graphite that comes in chunks ranging from an ounce or so up to 50 pounds. The most difficult part of wad mining was finding a new vein. Because of the geology of the region, wad deposits lay in short-lived veins or slumps and pockets, and the location was difficult to predict. Once a vein was located, however, basic mining techniques could open it, and the miners merely had to walk up and grab the mineral by the handfuls. Some boasted that they could get as much as a thousand pounds (as in money, not weight) in a half hour.

Just as when anything becomes precious, wad soon required additional protection to ensure it was properly mined and sold. Miners were watched by security guards and overseers who regularly forced them to empty their pockets or even strip down to their skins at the end of a shift to make sure they weren’t carrying away the profits. Guards watched the stocks at the mine and escorted the shipments to the pencil factories or lead works. Still, thieves snuck in at night and sometimes were bold enough to threaten a mine in broad daylight. A whole army of smugglers worked at ferrying the material overland. One of the most famous was a woman called Black Sal, who was allegedly hunted to death with hounds for her transgressions. To put a stop to such theft, in 1752, Parliament made a law that stealing or receiving stolen wad was punishable by whipping and a year’s hard labor or being transported for seven years.

The other danger in mining wad was the fluctuations in the market. Each time one of the mines found a lucrative pocket, the wad was rushed to buyers, and the market quickly flooded. So, mine owners entered into agreements to take turns working their mines and selling their wares to ensure everyone received a chance for a fortune.

Meanwhile, France struggled to get enough of the material for its industrial and military uses. Napoleon ended up commissioning an expert to discover a way to make wad without getting it from England (bit hard to do with a war on). The expert invented a process to water down wad with clay. The approach spread and so severely undercut the need for pure graphite that the mines in the Lake District all shut down before 1900. Spoils from the mining can still be found dotting the landscape.

But the view is still magnificent.

Regina Scott spends a great deal of time in the Regency period. Her twentieth book set in that period, An Honorable Gentleman, is a November 2011 release from Love Inspired Historicals. The hero, Sir Trevor Fitzwilliam, is awarded an estate when he’s made a baronet, an estate that holds a defunct wad mine, a mysterious moving statue, and a very determined young lady intent on reclaiming the estate’s future glory, and wedging her way into Sir Trevor’s heart. You can find Regina online at www.reginascott.com, www.nineteenteen.blogspot.com, and www.craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com.

The High Points of London...Geographically Speaking!

2011-10-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

London is situated along the banks of the River Thames in a broad valley. It stands to reason therefore that the land rises on either side. And there are some impressive hills. Some are well-known to Regency readers and writers--Hampstead Heath is a substantial height of land at 440 ft., and Bushey Heath at 502 ft.--both sheltered highwaymen and thieves like Dick Turpin through the early 1800s.

Horatia Nelson Ward, 1822

One of the tallest hills, at 499 feet, is Stanmore, eleven miles from the City to the north and west. It was the sight of a meeting between the Prince Regent and Louis XVIII in 1814, at the Abercorn Arms. Nearby Pinner Hill, 413 feet, was the home of Mrs. Horatia Ward--daughter of Emma Hamilton and Lord Nelson--in her old age. The borough of Harrow is home to several of the highest of the London's hills, including Harrow at 408 feet.

Triangular Tower,
Shooter's Hill

Shooter's Hill, south east of the City of London, on the main road to Dover was also remote, and very steep. With a gallows at the bottom, in use until 1805, and thieves abounding, it must have been a dreaded part of the journey to the coast. Because of its height, it was long the site of a warning beacon, and its summit at 433 ft. boasted a shutter telegraph in Regency times, and the long-standing, well-known Bull Inn.

Muswell Hill (344 ft.) and Highgate (North Hill--430 ft.) are closer to the City of London--Muswell is only six miles north of Charing Cross. Both are prized areas now, and were burgeoning suburbs during the Regency comprised of villas and cottages ornes in leafy seclusion.

To the south-east of the City, Havering-atte-Bower, a ridge of some 344 feet rose. Situated on it was Havering Palace, built as a hunting lodge by Edward the Confessor and used by royalty for the next six hundred years. It was pulled down in the 1600s, and Havering subsided into relative obscurity.

All the heights of land surrounding London now offer wonderful views of the great city and its environs. In the Regency era, they would have been much more rural, and the city that could been seen from them was very different.Geography is so important in understanding a city, and its people. As writers, and readers, we need our maps close to hand!

London from Hampstead Heath, by John Constable

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Thank you to everyone who left comments on my blog post last week. I'm glad you enjoyed my little contest and the winner is Tracey D (booklover0226). I will be contacting you shortly about sending your ebooks on CD-ROM. Congratulations!

I hope you will all enter to win the Kindle at the Uncial Press Birthday Party; that draw takes place October 28. And there are free ebook draws every day!

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Next week, Regina Scott will be visiting to discuss graphite mining in England during the Regency. Graphite, or plumbago, was a vital mineral in the British military industries. Learn more next Friday! Regina spends a great deal of time in the Regency period. Her twentieth book set in that period, An Honorable Gentleman, is a November 2011 release from Love Inspired Historicals. You can find Regina online at www.reginascott.com, www.nineteenteen.blogspot.com,and www.craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com.

Hanover-square Rooms -- The place for concerts

2011-10-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

In 1774 were built the concert rooms that were to dominate the Georgian musical scene, and continue to attract music lovers until nearly the end of the nineteenth century.

Hanover-square Rooms shown in blue

At the corner of Hanover Square and Hanover Street, was a piece of freehold property belonging to the Earl of Plymouth. He sold the freehold on June 28, 1774 and it was conveyed to Giovanni Gallini and his partners, among whom was John Christian Bach. On the site, they built a structure consisting of a principal room 95 ft by 35 ft on the first floor, with an arched ceiling decorated by Cipriani. It could house up to 500 people. There was also on this level a smaller room known for a time as the Queen's Tea Room. There was a large ground floor room as well.

The principal room originally had an orchestra 'stage' on a raised dais at the east end and an organ. In 1804, when the Concert of Ancient Music leased space for concerts the principal room was altered: the orchestra moved to the west end, and the east end held three boxes for the royal family and other notables. There was also a 'splendid refurbishment' to the thirty year old chambers.

The principal room in 1844

The Hanover-square Rooms, from their very earliest days, attracted the greatest performers of the time. John Christian Bach was among the first concert-givers. Haydn performed regularly in the 1790s and his Messiah was performed as a benefit for the Royal Society of Musicians for several decades. In 1798, Miss Linwood's celebrated needlework pictures were exhibited, perhaps in that ground floor room, and other events such as lectures, readings and meetings were held in the rooms.

In June 1808, the Cambrian Musical Prodigy, Miss Randles, age 8, under the patronage of the Prince of Wales, performed with Catalani and Naldi.

Samuel Wesley played violin sonatas in the Hanover-square Rooms and in May of 1810, he hosted a Musical Morning-Party which, according to The Monthly Mirror, begins

at one o'clock, terminates about four, and in the present state of fashionable morning society, (rides, walks, calls, ennui, and idleness), we think it a very laudable institution.

According to one version of the story, Beau Brummell's break with the Prince Regent--when Brummell is reported to have said "Alvanley, who's your fat friend?"--took place at the Hanover-square Rooms.

One hundred years after they opened, the last concerts were held at the Rooms. In 1900 the building was demolished. We often hear of the Argyll Rooms, Almack's of course, Vauxhall and all the gentlemen's clubs; we need to add the Hanover-square Rooms to our list of locations for Regency social events.

This week I am celebrating the Fifth Birthday of my publisher Uncial Press! I am giving away to one lucky winner two CD-ROM's of my Uncial Press Regency Romance releases--one of "The Education of Portia", and one of "Love's Liberty". Please comment here on this blog post answering the question "What is your all-time favourite Regency or Jane Austen romance?". Enter from 10:00 AM CST Friday October 14 (today!) to 10:00 PM CST Thursday October 20, 2011 for a chance to win both e-books. I will do a random drawing and announce the winner in next Friday's blog post.

Do visit Uncial Press this month--they are giving away an ebook every day and having two draws--one for a Kobo and one for a Kindle.

Good Luck!

'Til next time,
Lesley-Anne

The Muslin Pelisse - A Charming Variation of a Necessary Garment

2011-10-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

The pelisse was basically a coat and it was ubiquitous from about 1800 through to the 1840's. It appeared in every lady's wardrobe in almost every season of the year in Great Britain. It was sometimes called a redingote--although that was a heavier, more tailored fore-runner of the pelisse. The pelisse did have military origins as did many fashions in the early 1800s.

left November 1807 right February 1811

In the early years of the century the pelisse was loosely structured. By 1810 La Belle Assemblee was writing:

[Pelisses] are still made to fit tight to the shape, to button down the front with small raised silk buttons, left broad over the bosom and shoulders, but sloped in something narrower to the fall of the back behind...We have seen several elegant women in fine black cloth pelisses, ornamented with the narrowest gold braiding.

Journal des Dames 1819

The Mirror of Fashion in August 1817 assured its readers that "pelisses are still considered as elegant for the promenade costume..." and they discuss "...a pelisse of blue and white shot sarsnet, lined with white sarsnet, and trimmed with white satin."

By October 1817, pelisses had become more fitted and the Ladies Monthly Museum stated that "Silk pelisses begin to be generally adopted for walking dresses."

As I read contemporary fashion magazines however, it is the muslin pelisse that really captures my imagination. The delicacy and the sheer prettiness of the garment must have been charming.

In 1803 The Duke of Bedford wed Lady Georgiana Gordon. The Gentleman's Magazine reported the lady wore "a muslin dress of the finest fabric" for the ceremony, and 'previous to her departure for Woburn, she wore an elegant fringed muslin pelisse, lined with sarsenet, and trimmed with lace of great value."

The lovely illustrations (and patterns) for muslin pelisses in the book Period Costume for Stage and Screen: Patterns for Women's Dress, 1800-1909 by Jean Hunnisett and Janette Haslam display the delicacy of the muslin pelisse.

Worthing Museum and Art Gallery
Muslin pelisse of 1810 from Period Costume for Stage and Screen

Ackerman's Repository as quoted in the Edinburgh Annual Register of August 1810 mentions "A plain muslin short pelisse, trimmed with [vandyke lace]."

La Belle Assemblee, in the same year, writes:

...we have nothing more approved to offer than the fine sprigged India muslin pelisse, lined with pale pink, straw, blue, or lavender, and trimmed entirely around with a narrow lace edging...

In September of 1816 however, the Repository of Arts was advising:

Muslin pelisses, so elegant and so appropriate to the season, have, from the coolness and humidity of the weather, been entirely laid aside.


A particularly pretty muslin pelisse of the early 1800s from Period Costume for Stage and Screen

In 1818 the Lady's Monthly Museum reported that "muslin pelisses have disappeared". But they had it wrong, for as late as 1840, the young Princess Victoria was reported as wearing "a white muslin pelisse lined with primrose coloured silk".

For more details about pelisses, I recommend the following:

Pelisse coat said to have been worn by Jane Austen

A very complete history from Fashion Era

A pelisse/spencer pattern for purchase from the Jane Austen Gift Shop

A very good article from Your Wardrobe UnLock'd

Next week, I will be blogging as usual but I will also be celebrating Uncial Press's Fifth Birthday with a giveaway of two CD-ROM's of a pair of my Uncial Press Regency Romance releases. You can leave a comment on next week's blog from 12 noon Friday October 7 to 12 midnight Thursday October 14 for a chance to win both e-books. More details next week, but do visit Uncial Press this month--they are giving away an ebook every day and having two draws--one for a Kobo and one for a Kindle.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources:
Period Costume for Stage & Screen: Patterns for Women's Dress, 1800-1909
by Jean Hunnisett and Janette Haslam
Hardcover: 191 pages Publisher: Players Pr (June 1991)
ISBN-10: 088734609X ISBN-13: 978-0887346095

Period Costume for Stage & Screen: Patterns for Outer Garments: Cloaks, Capes, Stoles and Wadded Mantles by Jean Hunnisett (Author), Jill Spanner (Illustrator), Fiona Ffoulkes (Illustrator),
Kathryn Turner (Illustrator)
Hardcover Publisher: Players Pr (September 2001)
ISBN-10: 0887346650 ISBN-13: 978-0887346651

Fanny Burney-Jane Austen's Favourite Author by Guest Blogger Farida Mestek

2011-09-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

Fanny Burney by relative
Edward Francis Burney

I confess that when I fixed on the subject of my guest post– Fanny Burney – I hadn’t been acquainted with any of her books and I was moreinterested in her life and person rather than her literary achievements,especially after I'd discovered that we share a common enemy.

But first and foremost, for me she was the favourite authorof my favourite author – Jane Austen – which was quite enough to make me loveher. But, of course, I had vague plans to read her books at some point, becauseI knew that they are a must read for any Regency heroine who loves readingnovels.

I learnt that she left behind many volumes of letters anddiaries and, because reading memoirs is my favourite way of researching thetime of yore, I started with those. It was a delight to read her diary, becauseshe appeared wonderfully emotional and all fluttery. She danced a jig withoutany music or explanation when she learnt of Dr. Johnson's approbation of“Evelina” and referred to herself as Francesca Scriblerus and Fannikin by herDaddy Crisp.

Evelina portrayed by
John Hoppner

Her diary starts just after the publication of “Evelina” andshe writes about the overwhelming success and popularity of her first novel,her reaction to praise and favourable reviews pouring from all sides, her fearsthat she should never write anything to match it again as well as her struggleto keep her identity as the authoress a secret.

“I often think it too much — nay, almost wish it wouldhappen to some other person, who had more ambition, whose hopes were moresanguine, and who could less have borne to be buried in the oblivion which Ieven sought. But though it might have been better bestowed, it could by no onebe more gratefully received.

“Well, I cannot but rejoice that I published the book,little as I ever imagined how it would fare; for hitherto it has occasioned meno small diversion, and nothing of the disagreeable sort. But I often think achange will happen, for I am by no means so sanguine as to suppose such successwill be uninterrupted. Indeed, in the midst of the greatest satisfaction that Ifeel, an inward something which I cannot account for, prepares me to expect areverse; for the more the book is drawn into notice, the more exposed itbecomes to criticism and remark.

“I am now at the summit of a high hill; my prospects on oneside are bright, glowing, and invitingly beautiful; but when I turn round, Iperceive, on the other side, sundry caverns, gulfs, pits, and precipices, that,to look at, make my head giddy and my heart sick. I see about me, indeed, manyhills of far greater height and sublimity; but I have not the strength toattempt climbing them; if I move, it must be downwards. I have already, I fear,reached the pinnacle of my abilities, and therefore to stand still will be my bestpolicy."

By now I’ve read “Evelina” and I’m currently reading“Cecilia” and though Fanny Burney will never be my favourite author, becauseI’m no big fan of her writing style and especially her way of portrayingcharacters, she is very dear to me, because we were both diagnosed with breastcancer and both had to have mastectomy, though under entirely differentcircumstances — circumstances I couldn't help comparing.

I read her account of the surgery — so unlike my own — andmy admiration for her courage and determination to go through with it despitethe terrible pain that she must have felt during it all (Nay! I cannot imagineit!) is beyond anything I can express. It took place on September 30, 1811.This is how she felt when it was over:

“When all was done, they lifted me up that I might beput to bed, my strength was so totally annihilated, that I was obliged to becarried, could not even sustain my hands, arms, which hung as if Ihad been lifeless; while my face, as the Nurse has told me, was utterlycolourless. This removal made me open my Eyes - I then saw my good DrLarry, pale nearly as myself, his face streaked with blood, its expressiondepicting grief, apprehension, almost horror.”

I’m convinced that her story would make for a very interestingbiopic and in my most daring moments I hope to write a novel based on herdiaries and letters where I’d like to explore her writing side and find answersto some of my questions concerning her writing methods and what served to beher inspiration. But at first I have to read all of her diaries, novels andplays and I'm quite looking forward to the experience.

Farida Mestek lives in Ukraine, but she adores Regency England, where she spends a great deal of her time. She fell in love with it the moment she saw one of the film productions on TV when she was a child, and her love and fascination grew and solidified with every Jane Austen book that she read and reread time and time again. Visit her blog - "Regency Sketches"

Having been writing all of her life, Farida decided to write Regency-set stories herself. At present she has a long queue of characters who wait most impatiently to have their stories told. Her dream is to build a Regency village, the aim of which would be to provide Regency-lovers from around the world with a veritable Regency lifestyle experience.

Apart from traditional (and slightly less so) Regency-set stories, Farida likes writing fairy-tales and fantasy. Her long fairy-tale “Almendra”, published by Girlebooks, is setting the beginning of an epic three-book fantasy series that she has been working on and off for more than ten years.

Farida's Regency romance "Margaret's Rematch" can be purchased at Girlebooks, Smashwords and Amazon.com

Beef and Liberty -- The Sublime Society of Beef Steaks

2011-09-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

Regency gentlemen belonged to all kinds of clubs. Heroes of Regency novels frequent the best known of these: White's, Watier's, Boodle's, etc. Some, like Lord Worth in Heyer's "Regency Buck" belong to the Four-in-Hand Club, a driving club with a uniform club outfit, and a limit of twenty-five members.

But we never hear of a Regency hero belonging to the Beef Steak Club. I wonder why? It had a long lineage, was renowned for the wit of its members, and counted the cream of London gentlemen among its members. Perhaps it isn't heroic to appreciate a good meal?

If the Beef Steak Club does not appear in fiction, it certainly did exist in Regency London. There were several clubs by that name over the years, one recorded as early as 1705.

But we are speaking here of the Sublime Society of Beef Steaks begun in the early 1700s. There are a number of stories about its origins, but it seems that John Rich, manager of Covent Garden Theatre, enjoyed some excellent meals with his scenic artist, George Lambert. Other men joined them from time to time--actors, writers and musicians, and a club or 'society' as they preferred to be known, was born. William Hogarth was a founder member, and such luminaries at Samuel Johnson, and several royal dukes joined up.

Dinner was taken at 4:00 pm on Saturdays from November to June. The meal consisted originally of a beefsteak cooked on a gridiron (it appears on their medallion above and the period kitchen utensil is shown right) and a glass of port. Later, onions and baked potatoes were included in the meal. Wearing of the Society's 'uniform' was required--a blue coat and a buff waistcoat with brass buttons bearing a motif like the medallion above.

In 1785 the Prince of Wales, later to be Prince Regent, was admitted to the Society, which then, like the Four-in-Hand Club had a limited membership. In Volume XXVII of the Annual Register for 1785 this entry appeared:

On Saturday, the 14th of May, the Prince of Wales was admitted a member of the Beef-Steak Club. His Royal Highness having signified his wish of belonging to that Society, and there not being a vacancy, it was proposed to make him an honorary member; but that being declined by HRH, it was agree to increase the number from twenty-four to twenty-five, in consequence of which His Royal Highness was unanimously elected. The Beef-Steak Club has been instituted just fifty years, and consists of some of the most classical and sprightly wits in the kingdom.

And wit was among the reasons gentlemen joined; the after-dinner conversation was apparently some of the wittiest and most entertaining at any gathering of the time. There were also songs, poetry, and even skits for entertainment, as well as a fine collection of wines.

In 1793 the following item appeared in a newspaper:


Mr. Harris' room was within the Covent Garden Theatre; previously a scene painting room had been used.

In 1808, of course, the Covent Garden Theatre burned to the ground, and the following appeared with an article, in the Universal Magazine, about the fire:

Among other losses, the Beef Steak Club, which held their meetings at the top of the theatre, and has existed for many years, have lost all their stock of old wines, which cannot be replaced, and worth at least fifteen hundred pounds, beside their sideboard and table implements.

The Society went on despite the loss--they met at the Bedford Coffee House and then the Old Lyceum Theatre. By 1838 the popularity of the club was waning and it ceased to exist in 1867. Its assets, auctioned in that year, raised over 600 pounds.

There was a successor to the Sublime Society and it still exists, located at 9 Irving Street, London. There are other 'Beef Steak Clubs' around the world, but I think the most interesting was that of the extended Regency era, when gentlemen gathered to enjoy a good meal and a lively conversation.

Next week, author Farida Mestek will be guest-blogging with me about the wonderful Fanny Burney.

Farida lives in Ukraine, but she adores Regency England, where she spends a great deal of her time. Having been writing all of her life, she decided to write Regency-set stories herself. At present she has a long queue of characters who wait most impatiently to have their stories told. Her dream is to build a Regency village, the aim of which would be to provide Regency-lovers fromaround the world with a veritable Regency lifestyle experience. Visit her at her blog "Regency Sketches".

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources:
Sublime Society of Beef Steaks
Wikipedia 'Beefsteak Club'

'Behind every Man there is a Good Woman' Jane and Mary-Ann Carlile

2011-09-16T08:00:00.000-07:00

Richard Carlile was one of the leading lights of the reform movement of the early 1800's. He was a tinsmith turned journalist, a man born in humble circumstances in 1790. In 1813 he married Jane but by 1816 they were in financial difficulties because of reduced work hours in smithing. Carlile turned to journalism and in 1817 went in to publishing with a partner, William Sherwin. They published Sherwin's Political Register, advocating reform, freedom of the press, and sexuality equality, and they printed pamphlets by men such as Thomas Paine and Henry Hunt.

Richard Carlile

By 1819, Carlile was prominent enough to be one of the speakers at the great rally at St. Peter's Field, Manchester. Jane Carlile had given birth to several children--there were ultimately to be five, but only three survived. She was, by some accounts, the business head of the family, believing that propagandism on the scale her husband promoted required good business to support it.

Peterloo Massacre

Carlile published firsthand accounts of the Peterloo Massacre, and the authorities took umbrage. They shut down the Political Register and Carlile responded by renaming it The Republican. In October 1819 he was sent to Dorchester Gaol for three years for blasphemy and seditious libel--The Society for the Suppression of Vice had a hand in his conviction. (Vice to them was any idea outside the status quo.)

Jane Carlile now came into her own. We cannot know what her thoughts on reform were, or how political were her beliefs. Certainly, there were women marching at the St. Peter's Field rally in support of women's emancipation. Whether Jane supported their views, we don't know. But she took over publication of The Republican in her husband's absence, and the journal from those days bear her name as publisher. She was from modest origins in Devon; Richard himself had only six years of schooling. How much, I wonder, did she have? Nevertheless she defended her husband's agitation for freedom of the press, and continued his work.

In 1821, she was herself charged with seditious libel. At that time, she pleaded that she had taken on the role of publisher only out of 'conjugal duty'. Did she, or was she a reformer, convinced of the rightness of their cause by the poor working conditions and worse situation of many of her contemporaries? Whatever the truth of her convictions, she was sentenced to two years in Dorchester Gaol, and shared a cell with her husband. (Their marriage, already in difficulty, was not enhanced by this enforced cohabitation.)

At this point, Carlile's sister, Mary-Anne stepped into the role as publisher for The Republican. It is difficult to imagine that duty alone led her to risk imprisonment. Was she also a woman of strong belief in the reform movement? Did she fight for women's equality and subscribe to the principles of republicanism? Whether she did or did not, she too was sentenced to gaol, for six months, in 1821. In 1823, she petitioned the House of Commons for her release as she was still being held because she could not pay the fines levied on her.

The Republican continued to be published despite the difficulties of its publishers. Richard Carlile, when he left prison, went on to agitate for change, becoming more and more radical, alienating supporters and eventually advocating free love, and something he called 'moral divorce' and subsequently 'moral marriage'.

But for the footer in extant issues of The Republican, Jane Carlile disappears from the historical record shortly thereafter. Her marriage was over, her husband involved with another woman. She appears to have remained in publishing to some extent as late as 1834 or 1838. Mary-Anne Carlile likewise is not mentioned again in contemporary literature. It bothers me that this should be so, but it proves the need for women's equality for which females were struggling as early as 1815.

Here's to you, Jane and Mary-Anne. I hope your lives proved fulfilling and successful.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources:
The following publications are available in their entirety at Google Books--
"Suppressed Defence: The Defence of Mary-Anne Carlile to the Vice Society's Indictment..."
"The Debate in the House of Commons...Mary-Ann Carlile..."
"The Trials with the Defences at Large...for Selling the Publications of Richard Carlile..."

"The Republican, Volume I"
"The Republican, Volume III"
"The Republican, Volume IV"

The trials of Jane Carlile are not available although there are a variety of listings. A search on 'Jane Carlile' will show what is available.

The Great Edinburgh Fire Balloon

2011-09-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

In 1811, The Literary Panorama, The Monthly Magazine and The Annual Register, all told the tale of a disastrous fire at a farm in Oxfordshire:

7 September 1811 - A destructive fire broke out in the rick-yard of Mr. Coulton, a farmer, at East End near Shottlesbrooke, occasioned by the descent of a fire-balloon on a wheat rick...The balloon had been sent up in the neighbourhood of Marlow, nearly 20 miles from where it descended.

I had not heard the term fire-balloon before. A little investigation showed that this was another term for a hot-air balloon, that is, a balloon filled with air warmed by a fire, as opposed to a hydrogen filled balloon. Hydrogen gas became the preferred substance in balloon launch very early in the 1800s. Perhaps it was because of such incidents as that above?


The Great Edinburgh Fire Balloon

The Great Edinburgh Fire Balloon was the brain-child of James Tytler, a Renaissance man or a ne'er do well, depending on your point of view. Mr. Tytler worked in everything from medicine to literature, was an inventor and a poet, did not succeed notably in any of his careers, and was twice bankrupted by his endeavours.

In 1783 he developed a keen interest in the work of the Montgolfier brothers in France. He developed his own fire-balloon--a barrel-shaped envelope 30 feet in diameter and 40 feet high. The air which filled it was heated by a stove as opposed to the open fires which sometimes hung below these balloons on a grating.

His first flight took place on August 27, 1784 from Comely Gardens, Edinburgh. The balloon traveled half a mile and news of it traveled farther! His next ascent, on the 31 of August, was attended by a great host of people. His flight was shorter, but was greeted with acclaim. His subsequent efforts however were failures and, having expended huge sums of money, he soon had to move on to other, more lucrative, projects.

Nevertheless, it appears he was the first person in Great Britain to fly in a balloon, and he was thereafter known as 'Balloon' Tytler. His efforts were overshadowed by the 'Daredevil Aeronaut' Vincenzo Lunardi, who eventually undertook five launches in Scotland. It was soon forgotten that Tytler had flown in his fire-balloon nearly a month before the Italian ascended in his from Moorfields in London.

By the time of the Regency hot-air balloons and hydrogen balloons, if not commonplace, were at least frequent spectacles. A variety of styles and sizes of both balloons and equipages were being developed, distances of flights were lengthening and accidents were all too regular.

If you have not read Georgette Heyer's Frederica, I highly recommend it. A balloon ascension plays an important part in the plot, and her descriptions of the dangers and delights of ballooning are all too realistic. It was a heady time of invention and innovation, and we really shouldn't forget that James Tytler was at the forefront of its development.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources:
Ferguson, James. Balloon Tytler. London: Faber and Faber, 1972
Gillon, J. K. James Tytler and the Great Edinburgh Fire Balloon.
http://gillonj.tripod.com/edinburghfireballoon/
Illustration of The Great Edinburgh Fire Balloon from this website, with thanks.

Intrepid-- Travellers during the Regency

2011-09-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

Regency folk were intrepid travelers. Under conditions that would keep me comfortably and safely at home, they traveled the world. Bad inns, worse roads, bandits, shipwrecks, and wars could not prevent them from packing their possessions and setting off to see how the rest of the world lived.

A britzka traveling in Russia, early 1800s

Even a quick glance at the periodicals of the day displays a huge quantity of travel memoirs published every year. The Peninsular and continental Napoleonic Wars may have imposed restrictions, but still people traveled. In 1811 as war raged on the continent, among others, the following books were published:
- Mr. Hooker's Journal of a Tour in Iceland
- Valemberg's Journey in Lapland
- Pike's Exploratory Travels in North America
- Morrier's Journey through Persia, Asia Minor, etc.

When in 1814 Napoleon was exiled to Elba, the British flooded into Europe. The result was that publishing schedules were crowded with travel accounts such as:
- Miss Starke's Letters from Italy
- A Voyage to Cadiz and Gibraltar by Lieutenant-General G. Cockburn
- Salt's Voyage to Abyssinia
- Clarke's Travels in Greece, Egypt, etc.
- A Narrative of the Travels of the Rev. John Campbell in South Africa

And the travel publishing continued in the following years with examples like "Travels from Calcutta to Babylon" by Captain Lockett published in 1816 and in 1826 "Travels in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, etc." by W. R. Wilson.

A bretchka

When Regency folk traveled they used post-chaises, private four-in-hand coaches, stagecoaches, the 'diligence' in France and its equivalent in other countries. If they were really serious travelers, and well-to-do, they might have their own 'britzka'. The name came from the Polish, German and Russian, and there were many spellings. However you spelled it, the britschka was considered a cozy and comfortable method of transportation. It has been called the motorhome of the 1800s. Basically it was a phaeton, or chaise, with an extended body. Because of the additional length, it was possible to include beds in the body, as well as a desk, or a dressing table, or almost anything else the traveler desired. If you could not do without your favourite foods, you could install a locker to contain them in your britzka. There was room for extra luggage, books, all the comforts of home, in fact.

The only thing I cannot understand is how the britzka could be considered secure with only a hood covering half of the carriage body. Would not a coach, fully enclosed, be more secure in countries that abounded with bandits, beggars and bad weather? Even the presence of a coachman, a guard, and presumably a footman or two on the rear jump seat, would not compensate me for the lack of a full roof.

Nothing kept the people of the Regency era from their travels however, and one can see why they embraced the steam trains and steamboats being developed even as they crossed and re-crossed the world.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Regency in Alabama: The Vine & Olive Colony of Demopolis by Sheri Cobb South

2011-08-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

Certain places tend to hold a particular fascination for those of us interested in the Regency period: London. Brighton. Bath. Paris. Vienna. Demopolis.

What’s that? You’ve never heard of Demopolis? You’re not alone. Few people outside the state are familiar with this west-central Alabama town, much less its unique connection with Napoleon Bonaparte.

The story of Demopolis actually begins in France. After the fall of Napoleon, many of his supporters were exiled by the restored Bourbon King Louis XVIII. Some of these Bonapartists, led by Napoleon’s former aide-de-camp, General Lefebvre Desnouettes, sailed to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where they petitioned the U.S. Congress to sell them land on which they could establish a colony. On March 3, 1817, Congress approved their petition with an act that allowed them to purchase 92,160 acres in the Alabama Territory for $2 per acre.

There was one stipulation, however: they were to use the land to cultivate grapes and olives. Congress, it seemed, did not quite trust the French newcomers, and wanted to ensure they could not use their foothold in America to plot a Napoleonic return to power. From Philadelphia the group sailed to Mobile and thence 140 miles up the Tombigbee River. About 150 people, including men, women, and children, landed at Ecor Blanc (White Bluff) on July 14, 1817. They called their new settlement Demopolis—“city of the people.”

White Bluff at Demopolis 1903

One has only to look at contemporary engravings of the colony to predict its inevitable fate. Illustrations in Parisian newspapers of the time depict elegantly dressed ladies and dapper military men toiling serenely beneath swaying palm trees—even though palm trees do not grow 140 miles north of the Gulf Coast. Just as the climate was harsher than the immigrants expected, so was the way of life. In France, they had been courtiers from aristocratic families; in Alabama, they would be pioneers. Except for the occasional pocket of civilization, of the Alabama territory was still mostly wilderness.

Aigleville Colony 1819

In August of 1818, more bad news greeted the immigrants when a government survey revealed their actual land grant was located one mile east of their riverside settlement. Abandoning their newly cleared land, the settlers established communities called Aigleville and Arcola, neither of which exist today. In the meantime, the vine and olive crop failed, and several settlers died of fever. Others, disillusioned with pioneer life, returned to France or the predominantly French towns of Mobile or New Orleans. By the end of 1818, only 69 settlers remained in Alabama.

But the climate, so unsuited to vine and olive cultivation, proved perfect for large-scale cotton production. In the 1830s, cotton planters bought up the old French land grants and established huge plantations. The vine and olive colony was dead, and cotton was king. It would reign for the next century. Still, the area’s French heritage lives on in place names such as Marengo County, named after Napoleon’s victory at Marengo, Austria; Linden, the Marengo County seat, a shortened form of Hohenlinden, where Napoleon defeated the Bavarians; and in street names such as Desnouettes and Herbert. And according to local lore, in the few surviving olive trees, which bear their fruit every summer as if awaiting harvest by a ghostly hand.

Sheri Cobb South has never lived in Demopolis, but she has driven through frequently and has toured Gaineswood and Bluff Hall, its beautiful antebellum homes. Her writing, including the John Pickett series of regency mysteries, has been interrupted by a cross-country move from Alabama to Colorado, but her regency romances, released in electronic format by Belgrave House, are now available for Amazon Kindle.

A Fashionable Glossary of 1819

2011-08-19T08:00:00.000-07:00

The New Monthly Magazine and Universal Register was a British journal published from 1814 to 1884. It combined news from around the world and Britain with a wide variety of articles, and some humourous and pointed 'letters to the editor'.

The August 1, 1819 issue of the magazine has a number of interesting articles: 'Philosophy of Domestic Economy', 'A Tiger and Lion Hunt in Hindostan', 'Remarks on the Southwark Bridge', among others.

One of the most interesting however is a tongue-in-cheek look at the language currently in use by the upper classes of society. The writer addresses his remarks to Mr. Editor and shows, by his biting definitions, his disdain for the current morals and modes of the beau monde.

I wish we knew the author of this wickedly funny work. It gives us a wonderfully acute look into the world of the beau monde by a contemporary.

Next week, Sheri Cobb South, award-winning author of Regency romances, will visit to talk about the Regency in Alabama and its intriguing connection to Napoleonic France. Sheri's writing, including the John Pickett series of Regency mysteries, has been interrupted by a cross-country move from Alabama to Colorado, but her Regency romances, released in electronic format by Belgrave House, are now available for Amazon Kindle.

Until next time,

Lesley-Anne

Joanna Southcott -- Faithful or Fanatic?

2011-08-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

The Regency era had its fair share of fanatics and eccentrics, but few of their names have resonated through the past two hundred years to the present day. Joanna Southcott (her name is variously spelled Johanna, her last name Southcote) is one of the few.

In our world, she has a Facebook page, her name is associated with a South Park episode (Royal Pudding), and she was referred to in a Monty Python sketch (The Epsom Furniture Race). In the Regency era, she was viewed with equal parts of faith and of dismay.

Joanna Southcott was born in Devon in 1750 to a farming family. She spent part of her early years as a domestic, but in about 1792 she was taken with the belief that she was possessed of the gift of prophesy. In fact, she believed she was the woman mentioned in the Book of Revelations in the Holy Bible. She spent the following years writing her prophesies and collecting over 100,000 followers who paid anywhere from several shillings to a guinea to be 'sealed'; that is, to receive a square of paper folded and wax-sealed with a seal she had found bearing the initials 'I.C.'. She believed these initials stood for Jesus Christ.

She produced some sixty publications in her life, many of them pamphlets, or tracts. Some of her writings were in verse, some letters to followers. Their nature can be seen from this excerpt:

"I warned the Parliament; and they refused the warning, and the sword of war followed; but now is come the second warning, from the woman's hand to the shepherds."

Two things ensured her lasting notice by history. One was 'Joanna Southcott's Box' -- a sealed box containing her prophecies and valuable papers. The box was supposed to be opened in the presence of twenty-four bishops, but it was never possible to gain the agreement and attendance of said bishops. One box, claimed to be the original "Ark of the Testament", was opened in 1927 and found to contain nothing of value. The Panacea Society, the last remnants of Joanna Southcott's followers, claims to have the original box in safe keeping still.

Southcott's other claim to lasting fame came about when she believed herself to be pregnant with the new Messiah at age 64. Her followers greeted this revelation with rapture, and the 'pregnancy' was met by a flood of preparations and gifts for the coming of the Shiloh of the Book of Genesis. Chief among these was the 'cot' of cradle of satinwood and gilt, costing reportedly 200 pounds.

The Literary Panorama of February 1815 printed an article about Southcott headed with the following:

"It would be criminal in us to omit the story, and much more, to insert it without deriving from it an occasion of caution against the first deviation from rectitude, truth, and duty."

The Panorama published a full account of her death, passed judgment on her life, and printed a list of "Specimens of presents lately made to Mrs. Southcott". The following is a selection:

- A superb Manger, fitted up as a Child's Crib, decorated with infinite taste, and made of the most costly materials, by Seddone and Co. with its draperies, hangings, etc. cost 300 pounds.

- A costly Mohair Mantle, a purple Robe, divers rich Frocks, Bibs, Caps, etc.

- A magnificent gold Caudle Cup, ditto Pap Boat, and spoons, with a complete set of matchless China Caudle Cups, etc.

- Many dozens of rich Wines.

- A matchless Child's Coral, with golden bells.

- Fourteen brilliant Diamond and other Rings, some with curious devices and pious mottos.

To her credit, in the last days of her life in December 1814, Southcott instructed that all these gifts be returned to their donors. The 'cot' remains in the possession of the Panacea Society.

Joanna Southcott expected the birth of her divine child in July 1815. By September it became obvious that something was wrong. Joanna began to believe that "Now it all appears delusion". In fact she wondered if Satan had misled her for many years. She died on December 27 and was observed for four days, as per her instructions, in case she was merely in a trance, or should rise from the dead. When it was clear that she no longer lived, a dissection was done and dropsy declared the cause of death. Since then, people variously have claimed the cause of death to be brain disease, cancer, or possibly cystic growth of the kind seen in 'hysterical' pregnancy.

Whatever the truth of her life and death, Joanna Southcott has resonated through the past two hundred years. There have been several books written about her, there are many websites devoted to her, and her own writings are available from Google Books. A simple Google search will bring a multitude of results.

The Regency era--as always, full of surprises!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

'All the World's a Stage' Actresses of the Regency

2011-08-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

Sarah Siddons--the name resounds through the two hundred years since the Regency. She was the finest actress of the period, respected and admired. But she was not the only actress of the times; there were many, their names and their talents now forgotten.

Regency romances use actresses for many purposes. Heroines conceal their identities by treading the boards, courtesans ply their trade through the stage, ladies trick their gentlemen, gentlemen find their mistresses among them. But for many women, acting was a job--a trade, one of the few at which they could earn a living. And if gossip sullied their reputations, many of them did everything in their power to dispel the rumours about their lives and associations.

The popular journals of the days helped them, by publishing brief biographical articles. These articles immortalize women of lesser talent, perhaps, than Sarah Siddons, but no less determination and valor.

La Belle Assemblee, that most popular of ladies' magazines, offered each month "Biographical Sketches of Illustrious and Distinguished Ladies". It included some actresses among these ladies, and calls into question our accepted idea that women of the theatre were consistently condemned.

In May of 1812, La Belle Assemblee published this engraving of Mrs. Edwin, an actress, and offered a three page sketch of her life. She was the child of theatrical parents, and began her career in Dublin, as did many actresses of the day. Then, "she first emigrated to Cheltenham, where her private character which had stood unsullied midst all the seduction, glitter, freedom and temptations of private theatricals, soon procured her not only the patronage, but the personal esteem and protection of the first circles." In fact, the Duchess of York became her patron and her success in England was assured. She performed at the Lyceum after the Drury-Lane Theatre fire, and in 1812 was apparently earning "the particular praise of her professional contemporaries..."

A Miss Smith was likewise celebrated in a sketch in the March 1812 issue of La Belle Assemblee. Her background is not delineated at all--she appears suddenly on the stage in Lancaster, and then proceeds to Edinburgh, York and Birmingham before appearing in Bath. Despite her lack of known antecedents, she finds "the most fashionable people of Bath began to countenance and encourage her, and she was frequently invited to the houses of several of those ladies who direct this little metropolis of the west." She was invited to Covent-Garden Theatre in 1805 and achieved a success which led the writer of the biographical sketch to dub her the successor to Mrs. Siddons. "The style of acting in which Miss Smith has acquired a reputation which is daily increasing, is the same line to which Mrs. Siddons owes her fame."

The Ladies' Monthly Museum likewise published biographical articles on notable women of the day. They frequently included actresses: "Among the numerous candidates for histrionic fame, who are distinguished for their personal attractions, native worth, and rare perfections, we can never be at a loss for subjects to present our readers;...:"

In September of 1817, the Monthly Museum chronicled the life and career of Miss Maria Foote in its own florid and uncritical style. Her family history is detailed, and her parents' success on the stage of Plymouth Theatre, where her father was manager, noted. Maria began her career on stage as Juliet at age twelve. In 1814 she began appearing at the Theatre-Royal in London: "the audiences have been forward in bestowing applause, the critics of the days have not been backward in joining their just meed of praise." The article concludes "In fine, we have pleasure in saying, that she promises to stand one of the first and foremost in the drama."

In 1819, The Ladies' Monthly Museum is continuing to recount the lives of actresses. Miss Margaret Taylor was respectably descended from a naval officer, and we are told, put aside a promising theatrical career to nurse an ailing sister with whom she resided. The sister died in 1815 and in 1816 Miss Taylor began appearing at the Haymarket Theatre. The Museum's description of her is succinct:

"Miss Taylor is of a good height; her person is formed with great symmetry; she treads the boards with much ease and dignity; and her action is graceful and appropriate. She has a clear, sweet voice..."

The magazine notes that Miss Taylor is capable of "a very powerful and effective piece of acting", and mentions that in one of her roles, "there is not the least tincture of vulgarity."

It seems that the most actresses of the Regency avoided vulgarity even if a stage role called for it! They were careful of their reputations, serious about their careers, and considered worthy of recognition by society. It is a somewhat surprising take on an occupation that we are accustomed to assume was demeaning and held in disrepute.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Walking Through Mayfairby guest blogger Diane Farr

2011-07-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

I began writing Regencies long before the advent of Google Earth. It seems almost quaint, now, to think of relying on paper maps to get a sense of setting, but that’s what we used to do. I was thrilled to discover Darton's New Plan Of The Cities Of London, & Westminster, & Borough Of Southwark, 1817 online when I began writing my first book, The Nobody, and spent countless hours poring over it. The Nobody was set in the spring of 1818 so this, of all maps, was pure gold.

Of course, one of the reasons why it took countless hours to study the map was that I had a dial-up connection to the internet. Each view of http://archivemaps.com/darton1817/darton.htm took between six and ten minutes to load. But it was well worth it, and I waited patiently as each fragment of street slowly materialized on my screen, spellbound as Regency London spread itself before my fascinated gaze.

Based on the meticulous drawings I perused, I set my country-bred heroine’s aunt in Half Moon Street (easy walk to Green Park!); sent her, while visiting said aunt, to a party in Audley Square; tempted her to ignore the conventions, bolt out of the party and walk home down Curzon Street; and taught her a lesson by having her rudely accosted somewhere near the corner of Curzon and Queen Streets.

Curzon Street

I visited Mayfair in my imagination so frequently that I knew it by heart—or thought I did. But I was unprepared for the emotions that hit me in London, after The Nobody was published, when I sought out Curzon Street and viewed the, er, scene of the crime. I imagine I felt very much like C.S. Lewis would have felt, strolling through Cair Paravel. Or L. Frank Baum, vacationing in Oz. Here I stood, in a place I had invented – a place inhabited by my own fictional characters – and its pavement was just as firm beneath my feet as the sidewalks of Sacramento. With stars in my eyes and a camera in my hand, I dragged my unfortunate family (on foot) all over Mayfair. The sensation was indescribable. I was exploring a place every bit as fictional, to me, as Narnia or Neverland. And every bit as beloved.

Boodle's

Which turned out to be a good thing, because nothing was labeled. I eagerly sought out the gentlemen’s clubs I had visited in so many books, and was astonished—and then delighted—when they proved difficult to pin down. My American eyes expected to see signs above the doors or hanging from posts saying, for example, WHITE’S or BOODLE’S. But apparently, if you are White’s or Boodle’s, you feel that signage would be superfluous. The haughty attitude was obvious, and really quite perfect: “If you are a member, you know where we are. If you aren’t a member, our location is not your concern.”

White's

I feel very fortunate to have had a chance to tramp through Mayfair. Much has changed, naturally, but the bones of the Regency are still visible beneath its 21st century skin.

Diane Farr is an award-winning author of traditional Regency romances and Regency-set historicals. Her latest venture is something different: Wicked Cool, a fast, fun read suitable for teens--and everyone else, she hopes. You can join her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dianefarrpage or follow her on Twitter at @DianeFarr.

The Summer Art Exhibitions of 1811from The Literary Panorama & Annual Register

2011-07-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

In July of 1811, as during the other summers of the Regency, was notable for art exhibitions. The Royal Academy, the British Institution, the Society of Painters in Water Colours, and the Associated Painters in Water Colours all held their individual shows. And the critics were out in force.

Posterity and the intervening two hundred years have determined which of the painters of the Regency are now considered great artists. But the opinions of the time are fascinating, and no less pointed than are today's critical remarks.

The Summer View - Royal Academy - 1800

The Royal Academy's exhibition is notable, according to The Literary Panorama, for having removed 'for sale' notations from the catalogue of the exhibit. It is feared the artists will suffer because of it.Chief among the artists discussed by The Literary Panorama is Benajamin West. He exhibited at least four pictures in the exhibition, and was too well known and admired to be seriously criticized. Nevertheless the reviewer does comment acidly:

- on West's Christ Healing the Sick in the Temple "Why must he [West] adopt the nonsensical, traditionary colours of Christ's dress; always red and blue?"

- on West's Death of Lord Nelson "We should also have recommended a more careful portrait of his Lordship's person. He will now be thought by posterity a taller man than he really was."

Benjamin West 'Death of Lord Nelson'

Of another famous artist, the reviewer tartly states "Mr. Fuseli continues to amuse himself with Ghosts and Spectres."

Henry Fuseli - Allegory of Vanity

Of the landscapes exhibited, the writers comments "...they may be very correct as to resemblance; but not all of them are excellent as pictures." The Portraits he dismisses with "...we have seen a better shew[sic] of heads..."


The British Institution

The critic views the exhibition at the British Institution more favourably, and he wonders if the pictures are more select because of the absence of portraits. Nevertheless, his comments are stringent.

- "Hilton's Entombing of Christ, has the fault of resembling the compositions of the old Italian masters: his Christ also, is rather fifty than thirty years of age..."

- "Hall's Haemon and Antigone, is a good attempt...but why dabble the lights about, like scattered grapes..."

The Society of Painters in Water Colours held their exhibition at Spring Gardens in 1811, and our critic was there also. He says "we passed our time so pleasant in this assemblage, as to forget the hour of the day and the calls of appetite". Nevertheless he is trenchant when necessary:

- "Mr. Heaphy might chuse[sic]better subjects."

Left is Lord Palmerston (1802) by Thomas Heaphy
One of his better subjects?

The Associated Painters in Water Colours exhibited in Bond Street that year, and though our critic enjoyed the landscapes presented, he was less than complimentary about the other works presented.

"If any proof were necessary of the difficulty of managing figures, especially naked, and classical or poetical figures, in water colours, we should appeal to the judgment of any practised eye on performances in this exhibition..."

The art critic from The Literary Panorama had, it seems, a wonderful July in 1811. He left a fascinating legacy in his column in the journal; I wish we knew his name...

Next week, Diane Farr will be visiting to talk about her walk through Mayfair, and her love of Regency London. Diane is an award-winning author of traditional Regency romances and Regency-set historicals. You can join her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dianefarrpage or follow her on Twitter at @DianeFarr.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Prince Regent's Party Planner

2011-07-15T11:40:00.000-07:00

No, I don't know who the Prince Regent's party planner was! But I did get thinking about the immense amount of staff it must have taken to put on one of his entertainments. Here, for example, is one of his parties as reported in the Edinburgh Annual Register--July 1, 1813:

"Last night the Prince Regent gave a ball and supper to a numerous and splendid party. By the heavy and incessant rain which fell during the day, considerable damage was done to the tents erected on the lawn at Carlton-house, and it was feared they could not be used; however, the preparations went on. The entrance to these temporary erections was from the supper-rooms, along a temporary passage about sixty yards in length, boarded, and covered in with canvas, lined with green glaze cotton, decorated with artificial flowers, and the whole illuminated by chandeliers at proper intervals. The tents were arranged on each side of this passage or promenade, and their entrances were hung with curtains, festooned with artificial flowers. The tents were eighteen in all, and supper was to be laid in each of them for twenty-eight persons. At the extremity of the promenade was the Prince Regent's tent, which was lined with light printed cotton, and the centre pole ornamented with artificial flowers.

About nine o'clock, the Queen and the Princesses proceeded in their chairs from the Queen's Palace to Carlton-house. The company began to arrive after this in great numbers."

That is over five hundred sitting down to dinner. The organization boggles the mind. Who was the overseer of all the details? Every aspect must have had a 'sub-contractor'. Secretaries for the invitations, and the menus. Designers to organize the set-up and the decorations. Tradesmen to execute the designs. And the suppliers--of cotton, canvas, tents, artificial flowers, etc. All wondering if they would be paid, and when!

And then there was the meal--cooks, under-cooks, confectioners, right down to the scullery maids. I wonder how many hours it took to wash the dishes after such an event, and who over-saw the work. And what about the major-domo, the butler, the foot-men, and the maids who made the company comfortable and saw to their every need. It needed a master-mind to orchestrate all these details.


'A Squeeze at Carlton House'

The Prince Regent's Fete held June 20, 1811 was an even more extravagant party--some 3,000 guests accommodated at Carlton-house, including French royalty as well as English.

"The full band of the Guards, in their state-uniforms, play in the court-yard various martial airs."

"The ball-room floors were chalked in beauitufl arabesque devices."

"The hall was adorned with a variety of shrubs, and an additional number of large lanthorns and patent-lamps."

"The gold-room shone with unequalled spelndour; the ceiling and walls here are painted delicately, on a ground of gold."


The Golden Drawing Room at Carlton House

This was the event at which "...there was a meandering stream to the bottom of the table, bordered with green banks...It contained also a number of gold and silver fish." Who designed this? Who wrung his/her hands when the fish died and floated belly-up among the decorations? I am indebted to The Literary Panorama and Annual Register for 1811 for an account of this 'fete', and I was charmed to read the following at the end of the account:

"Every praise is due to the superior officers of the household;--also to several noblemen, military officers, and other friends in the confidence of H.R.H. for all possible accommodation..."

Even the military reviews held by the Prince Regent showed a similar extravagance and must have required the use of an 'army' of subordinates to design and orchestrate the business. One such event was held on Wimbledon Common, June 10, 1811. There were 20,000 troops on parade, and it was estimated "200,000 persons on the ground". Much of the organization would have been down to the military for this event, but

"The Regent was also attended by a vast retinue, and was mounted on a beautiful grey charger, richly caparisoned; he was dressed in a full suit of General's regimentals, with the order of the garter, and a diamond star."


This is a Hyde Park review of 1814

It all required planning, and it all required staff. So here's to the Prince Regent's talented and, no doubt, long- suffering party planners. By all accounts they did a splendid job with spectacle after spectacle. I hope they got thanked--and I do hope they received their wages!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources: The Literary Panorama and Annual Register 1811 The Edinburgh Annual Register 1813
both free downloads from Google Books

Education: The Key to RichesThe East India Company College

2011-07-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

"1500 pounds will be given to any person who has influence to procure for the advertiser an appointment of writer either to Bengal or Madras. Address to A.Z. at the British Coffee-house"

This advertisement, which appeared in an English newspaper in 1800, makes it clear that a position with the East India Company was a valuable commodity. A 'writer' was a clerk, and if you were a clerk looking for a position in Bengal or Madras, you were almost certainly looking for work with the East India Company. Such a job ensured a wealthy future, always provided you lived through the dangerous sea voyage, the difficult climate, and the fevers and sicknesses of the sub-continent. The advertiser's investment of 1500₤ could be recouped many times over.

above East India House, Leadenhall Street, 1817

The British East India Company (BEIC) was a venture for pursuing trade with India and China that was already two hundred years old by the time of the Regency. But it was from about 1750 to 1850 that it virtually ruled India, and made fortunes for its directors, its merchants, and even its clerks or, as they were called, writers.

Positions as writers might be bought and sold and were undoubtedly objects, occasionally, of corrupt practice. But there was another way to obtain a writership, and that was through education. Education specifically at the East India College.

The East India College was established in 1806 to train young men, sixteen to eighteen years of age, for positions of clerks with the civil service in the East. It was situated temporarily at first in Hertford Castle which was a property of the Cecil family and leased out to various tenants over many years.

In 1809, the College moved to a purpose-built facility at Hertford Heath--four classically designed buildings surrounding a quadrangle which was the largest of its type in Britain. Its architect was William Wilkins, who also designed the National Gallery in London. Below is a modern photograph of Haileybury College, which is housed in the East India College buildings. I have altered the photograph, removing a dome added in 1877, in the hope that it simulates the appearance of the College in about 1810.

The hard work undertaken by the students of the College had a purpose which outstripped the classics courses of the scholarly universities. There was a Classical and General Literature course but practicalities were emphasized. Languages were chief among the classes--Hindustani, Urdu, Bengali, Sanskrit, Arabic and Persian were all taught, by prominent scholars. Thomas Malthus, the great economics philosopher, was professor of Political Economy from the origin of the College to 1834. Law, Mathematics and Natural Philosophy were also important courses of training at the College in preparation for residence and work in a very different world.

Imagine the excitement of a young man of the middle or gentry classes, nominated by the directors of the BEIC for training at the College. It was a passport to a new world, to adventure, and to a secure future. The high spirits in the College Quad can only be imagined, and nearby there was a pub, The East India College Arms (it still exists as The College Arms) which must have seen its share of larks undertaken by the students. The 'nabobs' of Regency fiction perhaps began their careers at the East India Company College!

'Til next time,
Lesley-Anne

Ratafia -- The Lady's Choice

2011-07-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

Ladies in Regency novels frequently drink ratafia. It has become the quintessential Regency romance drink, in fact, favoured by authors. I knew it was a sweet wine, but I really knew nothing more until I came across several recipes and options for making ratafia in "The Professed Cook", a wonderful cookery from 1812 which I found downloadable at Google Books.

"The Professed Cook" has a section titled Des Ratafiats or Of sweet Drams or Cordials. It includes some ten recipes for different versions of ratafia. They all begin with brandy and they all take thirty to forty days to prepare and infuse. The adventurous cook, it seems, can add almost anything to the brandy. Some of the ingredients listed in "The Professed Cook" include walnuts, quinces, orange-flowers, juniper-berries, lemon-peel, aniseseeds and apricots. Plenty of sugar is included and three spices in these receipts in particular--coriander, cinnamon and cloves.

Ratafia was commercially bottled during the Regency and sold at wine merchants like Berry Bros. and Rudd in London. Supplies must have been limited during the Napoleonic Wars and no doubt ratafia, like so many other wines, was a prime article for smugglers. Ratafia is still commercially produced today.
left photo by Yeza, via Wikipedia and Wikimedia Commons

Presumably ratafia was considered a drink suitable for ladies because of the addition of fruit, sugar and spices. The brandy was there, but it was diluted and infused with innocuous ingredients which would not turn 'weak' female heads. Grrrr! One of my heroines demanded madeira instead! Modern day ratafia has an alcohol content of 25%; if the Regency version was similar, the ladies should not have been supping it so freely!

Ratafia still makes the news today, and modern day receipts are to be found on the Internet. Check out these websites:

The Catalan newsagency--ratafia-sweet-green-walnut-liqueur-finds-new-public

The Old Foodie--for-love-of-ratafia

The Kitchn.com--quince-ratafia-how-to-make-fruit-liqueur

I would like to buy and sample some ratafia; I don't think I'll try my hand at making it!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Devil is in the Detail Or, How not to write a Regency novel by Lynn Shepherd, Guest Blogger

2011-06-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

If you decide to write a novel set in the Regency you have one real labour of love before you, and that’s to negotiate a veritable minefield of complex etiquette. There were so many rules governing social interaction – particularly between men and women – that it’s very easy to get the details wrong, and commit an unintentional howler.

I became very much aware of this when writing my Jane Austen pastiche, Murder at Mansfield Park. You would have thought that simply mimicking what Austen does would be a sufficient guide, but even if you manage to do this without mishap, there are some delightful nuances that Austen employs, which we’ve since lost. For example, a man could not shake a woman’s hand unless she first offered it to him, and when you understand that, there’s an added poignancy to the scene at the end of Emma, when Frank Churchill speaks to Emma for the first time after his secret engagement has come to light:

“I have to thank you, Miss Woodhouse, for a very kind forgiving message in one of Mrs Weston's letters. I hope time has not made you less willing to pardon. I hope you do not retract what you then said.""No, indeed," cried Emma, most happy to begin, "not in the least. I am particularly glad to see and shake hands with you--and to give you joy in person."

I employ this same convention in my own novel, as a way of signposting the subtle shifts in the relationship between my heroine, Mary Crawford, and the detective ‘thief-taker’, Charles Maddox, whom she first dislikes, then fears, and finally comes to respect. This scene marks the lowest point in their relationship:

He would have taken her hand, had she offered it, but she remained seated, and would not catch his eye. He said nothing immediately, but took a seat on the bench beside her.“I see we do not meet as friends, Miss Crawford. I am at a loss to know how I have so far forfeited your good opinion.”

Of course you might reasonably say that very few readers will pick up on such a fine distinction, but those who do will gain an added pleasure from the scene. More to the point, the more things like that you get wrong, the more the reader’s ‘willing suspension of disbelief’ comes under threat. I may be a purist, but I firmly believe that you can only create a viable illusion of authenticity by remaining completely faithful to the conventions of the period. In fact one of the most telling measures of the vast social distance between my thief-taker and the Mansfield family is his willingness to use the precise niceties of social convention to his own advantage – to observe them when it suits him, and flout them when it doesn’t, as in this Regency version of an ‘interrogation scene’:

“It appears you have little regard for the niceties of common civility, Mr Maddox,” Maria replied archly. “I dare say you will sit down whether I give my permission or no.”“Ah,” he said with a smile, as he sat down beside her, “there you are wrong, Miss Bertram, if you will forgive me. There are few men who are more watchful of what you term ‘niceties’ than I am. Many of my former cases have turned on such things. In my profession it is not only the devil you may find in the detail.”Maria replied only with a toss of her head; she seemed anxious to be gone, but unable to do so without appearing ill-mannered. Maddox smiled to himself – these fine ladies and gentlemen! It was not the first time that he had seen one of their class imprisoned by the iron constraints of politeness and decorum.

Much fun was had in the writing of scenes like this, as I’m sure you can imagine. But it’s not only custom and practice you have to observe as a Regency writer, but the ‘iron constraints’ of contemporary diction.

I spent an enormous amount of time studying Jane Austen’s style, in an effort to pull off what is – admittedly – a rather presumptuous act of literary ventriloquism. Some of that was about catching the rise and fall of her sentences – a difficult thing to describe, but every author has their own unique ‘rhythm’, and Austen more than most. Some of it was also about the tone she uses – the mix of ”playfulness and epigrammatism”, as she herself described it. You see this most obviously in her characteristic ‘balanced’ sentences, where the first half appears to be perfectly straight-faced, only to shift suddenly into delicious irony. This example comes from Elizabeth Bennet in Pride & Prejudice:

“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

The other area that can be a bear-trap for the unsuspecting is the vocabulary. Many words we use now were also common in Austen’s day, but the context in which they appear has sometimes radically changed. So even if you word-check everything you want to say against Austen’s novels (which I did), you can still make a faux pas if you don’t check the context as well. For example, you might want to refer – as I did - to the ‘atmosphere’ in a room, and be relieved to find that the word does indeed appear once or twice in Austen. However, if you look at these references more closely you’ll see that they all refer either to the weather, or to the physical nature of the air (‘poisonous atmosphere’), and never in our more general sense of ‘mood’.

Another snare for the unwary is ‘assume’ and ‘presume’. Austen only ever uses the word ‘assume’ in the sense of ‘taking on’ or ‘putting on’, and not in the modern sense of ‘making an assumption’. She uses ‘presume’ in the latter case, so I had to do the same (though one instance of ‘assuming’ did slip through the net, so it just shows you how stern you have to be with yourself!).

My own personal favourite here is the word ‘intriguing’. I had a wonderful sentence in my mind in which my thief-taker refers to one of his (female) subjects as “intriguing in both senses of the word”. But when I dutifully forced myself to look the word up, I found that while ‘intriguing’ in the sense of ‘plotting’ is perfectly acceptable in 1811, ‘intriguing’ in the sense of ‘fascinating’ does not come into use until 1909. It cost me dear to press the delete key on that one!

Like I said, you can call me a perfectionist, and I’m sure that there’s hardly one reader in a thousand who would have noticed. But if an author’s worth pastiching, they’re worth pastiching properly. Or at least I think so!

Lynn Shepherd is the author of the award-winning book "Murder at Mansfield Park". She has a doctorate in English Literature from Oxford University, and has published an academic work on the ‘Father of the English novel’, Samuel Richardson. Her next book – another ‘literary murder’ – will be published in 2012. Her website is www.lynn-shepherd.com, and you can follow her on Twitter at @Lynn_Shepherd.

The Prince Regent and L'Ordre du Saint-Esprit 1815

2011-06-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

The Prince Regent loved a costume, or a uniform, or any kind of ceremony which required extra-special dressing. So he must have been delighted when the King of France, early in 1815, created him a member of the French Order of the Holy Spirit, and sent him a 'superb dress' with the Order.The Literary Panorama and National Register of March 1815 published a complete description of the dress. When I read it, it sparked several questions in my mind….

The Prince Regent must have loved this outfit. And indeed, as a man who respected history and delighted in its details, he would have been honoured to receive the historic order.

Above is the Grand Royal Coat of Arms of France and Navarre. The collar of L'Ordre du Saint-Esprit circles the two shields at centre. The Order of the Holy Spirit was created by Henri III in 1578 to ensure the loyalty of his most powerful nobles. It was officially abolished during the French Revolution along with all other such orders. But it continued to be supported by the remnants of French royalty and nobility even after the French monarchy was completely eliminated after 1848.

The Collar of L'Ordre du Saint-Esprit

The king who presented the Prince Regent with the Order was Louis XVIII, who ruled around the comings and goings of Napoleon Bonaparte. He was the brother of Louis XVI, ruling de jure from 8 June 1795 to 16 September 1824, after his brother's execution and the death of his young nephew in prison. He only took the throne however from the 11 April 1814 to 20 March 1815 and then following Napoleon's final defeat from 8 July 1815 to his death in September 1824.

From these dates--and the date of the National Register item above--it is clear that King Louis XVIII bestowed the Order of the Holy Spirit on the Prince Regent just before Napoleon's last hundred days began. Within weeks of the bestowal, Louis was again in exile as Napoleon made his final push for domination. Even the journal must have been published just before Napoleon's escape in March 1815.

A final note that I found fascinating: the Cross of the Holy Spirit (part of the accountrements of the order) was hung from a blue riband and the Knights of the Order became known as Les Cordon Bleus. This term came to be associated with excellence--for example, blue ribbon sports winners, and, fine cooking. It is even suggested that the term Cordon Bleu cooking evolved from the brilliance of the Order's dinners!

Ah, the joys of research…

Next week, Regency mystery author Lynn Shepherd will be guest blogging about the niceties of detail in the Regency novel. Lynn is the author of the award-winning Murder at Mansfield Park. Her next book – another ‘literary murder’ – will be published in 2012. Visit her at her website www.lynn-shepherd.com.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Do you know these names?John Heaviside Clark and George Richmond

2011-06-10T08:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't know those names. But I happened upon them both in the past month, and they are both artists. Both lived on into the Victorian era but John Clark was prolific during the Regency and George Richmond's artistic sensibility was certainly informed by his youth during the Regency's heady days.

John Heaviside Clark was born about 1771 in Scotland. He was primarily a painter of seascapes, but landscapes also figured large in his portfolio. I encountered him while writing my blog about the aftermath of the Peace Celebrations in London--he painted the picture of the Chinese Pagoda in Green Park which I reproduced in that blog post. I find his other landscapes equally charming; here is his vision of Fountains Abbey:

I can find little information on Mr. Clark, but he did exhibit at the Royal Academy from 1801 to 1832. He must have travelled widely (or he had a very lively imagination) for his works depict whale hunting, the aboriginals of Australia, Egyptian subjects, and North American scenes.

Clark was an experienced aquatint artist and engraver, and he published at least two books on art which are available at Google Books. He was possibly best known, however, for his work on the Napoleonic Wars. In fact, he was nicknamed 'Waterloo' Clark because he sketched on the battlefield following the action. He also painted such wartime views as "The Allies before Dantzic in Winter" and "French Troops Retreating Through and Plundering a Village".

I cannot reproduce as much of his work as I would like, as it seems to be under license to innumerable art reproduction companies, but it may be viewed here and here. A search of his name in Google Books brings up some downloadable books for which he produced at least some of the illustrations.

George Richmond is another matter entirely. How could I not know his name? I recognized some of his pictures immediately. His self-portraits alone are fascinating; this one left from 1830 is utterly charming.

Technically, I suppose Richmond was more Victorian than Regency, but he was born in 1809. He remembered seeing the Lifeguards return from the Battle of Waterloo, and he became a student at the Royal Academy in 1824. He lived a very long life, dying in 1896, so he spanned most of the century, and lived a full, if challenging, life. How could I not know his name?

In his early years he was a friend of, and was influenced in his art, by William Blake. One look at his "Samson slaying the Philistines..." right shows Blake's influence.

But he was equally at home with landscapes. I do think this one--"Wooded Landscape with a Cottage"--is particularly nice.

In 1830 he married and then determined on portraiture as the best means of earning a living. And he painted every notable in Great Britain, it seems. Here are a few:

Charlotte Bronte

William Wilberforce

Elizabeth Gaskell

And the particularly delightful,
"Swinburne and His Sisters"

These portraits are why I should have known George Richmond. I recognized them, and yet I had never before heard his name. How could I have missed him? I have (informally) studied Victoriana. He was a pre-eminent Victorian, member of every society and club of importance, honoured by his peers, recognized by his country. He had ten children and forty grandchildren. He was a pillar of virtue, and apparently a charming and kindly man. Thank goodness I found out about him! Better late than never...

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Cheltenham -- a Notable Spa

2011-06-03T14:12:00.000-07:00

"For walks and for waters, for beaux and for belles,
There's nothing in nature to rival their wells."

So says The English Spy in writing of Cheltenham, Gloucestershire in the Cotswold Hills.

We met 'Bernard Blackmantle', The English Spy, a couple of months ago. His real name was Charles Molloy Westmacott. His book The English Spy is a compendium of scurrilous tales and gossip with bits of useful information for the researcher. When I browsed the book I was struck by the illustrations of Cheltenham. I discovered that in the chapter titled "A Trip to the Spas", Blackmantle/Westmacott devotes several pages to Cheltenham, and includes several illustrations by Cruickshank which combine scenes of the town with ribald details.

I must admit that I was not aware of Cheltenham's fame as a spa during the Regency. It was visited by King George III in 1788, and its popularity soared in the following years. It was largely rebuilt, beginning in 1800, and still exists as a lovely Regency town. It was a popular place for retiring military officers, and was according to 'Bernard Blackmantle', home to a large Irish population.

The mineral wells were considered particularly efficacious (causing, according to The English Spy, abrupt exits from the Pump Rooms) and the Montpelier Spa and the Sherborne Spa were accounted 'splendid' and 'elegant' structures of their type. Below is the Royal Wells, with some users hurrying away as others flock in.

The English Spy calls the inhabitants of the town 'Chelts', praises their virtues and revels in describing the eccentrics of the town. He also devotes two or three pages to describing the 'travellers' or 'commercial men' who visit the town. These were travelling salesmen, dealing in everything from jewellry to coffins to wine and timber--'knights of the saddle-bag' the author calls them. They had their own chamber--the Commercial Room--at the Bell Inn in Cheltenham and Cruickshank drew their company with keen observation.

Despite the fact that 'Bernard Blackmantle' and Cruickshank's illustrations stimulated my interest in Cheltenham, they are not the most accurate of guides to its charms. For more realistic and useful information on the spa town, I turned to Google Books and I found some delightful guides. Here is the 1814 title page of one that displays the effusive sentiments of Cheltenham's admirers.

It really is interesting reading, and another (from 1803) titled simply "The History of Cheltenham and its Environs" is also charmingly readable. "Griffith's New Historical Description of Cheltenham" of 1826 includes detailed information about lodging houses, and remarkable analysis of the mineral content of the waters! The engravings in all of these books are captivating and give a wonderful picture of the town in the Regency. I wish I could reproduce them all here, but they will eventually find their way on to the 'Regency World - Villages and Towns' page at my website.

One guide I cannot recommend, except with a giggle, is "Cheltenham; its Beauties and Advantages Attempted in Blank Verse". A sample of its poetry will suffice to explain my laughter (the errors in possessives belong to the original):

It's beauties and it's pleasures,
I fain would raise them higher,
Attracting Whigs and Tories,
In concert to admire,
Forgetting party feelings,
Hail Nature's high display,
It's Waters confer healing,
And chase disease away.

I cannot leave Cheltenham or The English Spy without mentioning 'Blackmantle's' reference to the Berkeley Hunt and the nearby Oakland Cottages. The latter was a 'snug convent' with a 'lady abbess and the fair sisters of Cytherea', and the former would set off from the Cottages and if they failed to find a fox they would return--to enjoy other (!) activities. Such is the salacious nature of The English Spy.

I am grateful to 'Bernard Blackmantle' for making me aware of the importance of Cheltenham in the life of Regency England. It is, I think, the perfect setting for a Regency story. In fact, the spas of England could lead to a series of stories....

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources From Google Books:

Griffith, J. K. "A General Cheltenham Guide" 1814
Ruff, H. "The History of Cheltenham and its Environs" 1803
Campbell, C. E. "Cheltenham; Its Beauties and Advantages" 1824
Griffith's "New Historical Description of Cheltenham" 1826

Blackmantle, Bernard "The English Spy" (also from Gutenberg.org, a more complete version)

Eliza Haywood, Remarkable 18th Century Author by Guest Blogger Kat Aubrey

2011-05-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

Eliza Haywood (c. 1693-1756) was one of the first English novelists. Yet she is not at all as well known as the male authors who followed her, those who wrote what are widely considered some of the first English novels--for example, Samuel Richardson's Pamela (1740) and Clarissa (1748), or Henry Fielding's Tom Jones (1749). In fact,

"William B. Warner has argued that Richardson and Fielding set out rather consciously to disavow, absorb yet erase, and obliterate their female predecessors, including Haywood, whose work is essential to the history of the novel. Feminist critics including Margaret Doody, Jane Spencer, and Ros Ballaster give her credit for initiating major forms of the novel [and] key character types." (Oxford DNB)

Haywood's earliest novels are perhaps best classed as 'amatory fiction'--sexy, daring tales of adventure in the bedroom and the streets--which is perhaps another reason why they have not until recently received as much attention, acclaim, or study as the more formal, serious novels by her male contemporaries. However, she wrote in many genres, crafting plays, poetry, literary criticism, political essays and conduct books as well as novels. She even translated a number of works from the continent, and founded several periodicals aimed at an educated female audience. With all these ventures, it is not surprise that her tone ranged widely, too. For example, by the 1750s, her books were more moralistic and domestic, and rather less titillating, in tone.

Fortunately, Haywood's oeuvre has indeed experienced a renaissance in the past few decades, and many of her books are back in print. And they are most worthy of our attention. Not only are they well-crafted, entertaining, exciting stories, but they give us insight into the lives, tastes, ideals, and social structures of the 18th-century woman. She was certainly well-known and well-read in her day: she and the earlier women authors Aphra Behn (1640-1689) and Delarivier Manley (c. 1670-1724) were known by the mid-18th century as the 'Fair Triumvirate of Wit.' Haywood was truly

"a professional woman author--she lived by her pen, as the saying goes--writing popular fiction, and it was very popular." (Introduction, The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless, 7)

Haywood's books are the sort of thing that the grandmothers and mothers of Regency women may have read, and perhaps passed down to (or hid from) their daughters. They are the precursors to the novels of such Regency and Victorian luminaries as Jane Austen, Fanny Burney, Mary Shelley, George Eliot, Elizabeth Gaskell, and the Brontë sisters.

"As Christopher Flint remarked, 'Haywood, more than any other eighteenth-century writer ... bridges the fictional narratives of Behn or Defoe and the works of Burney and Austen' (Family Fictions, 219)." (Oxford DNB)

Love in Excess; or, the Fatal Inquiry, published in three parts in 1719-1720, was Haywood's first novel. It draws influence from French romances and develops those themes into a romp filled with vibrant, surprising characters. The protagonist is D'Elmont, a gentleman who is in fact fairly gentlemanly, and numerous women, all quite remarkable--Amena, Alovisa, Melantha, Ciamara, Camilla, Violetta and the superior Melliora--through whom Haywood explores conceptions of feminine and sexual identity. These ladies and their suitors go through a host of adventures, misadventures, affairs, and intrigues that are both charmingly fun... and cleverly complex.

"[B]luntly, it is a bodice ripper. It is also an emotionally charged soap opera of brutal ambition, adulterous passion, and abuses of power. Again, it is a cautionary young-adult novel tracing the love-lives of impressionable young women in a violent, male-dominated world. ... Any novelist would kill to write a novel with such broad appeal." (Introduction, Love in Excess, 23)

The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless, published in 1751, is quite a different novel. It follows the not-too-subtly-named heroine through wayward girlhood, problematic marriage, and finally wise(r) maturity. It is a fiction that is also a conduct manual for girls pondering their own marriages--but it is also entertaining in its way, with multiple plotlines and an ensemble cast of characters who are mere types on the surface but actually illuminate the nature of those types. And, read critically, it also serves as a cautionary tale:

"the story of an intelligent, independent, wilful woman discovering the full force of the disciplining, transforming forces that create the subdued woman for whom society's gendered commands become willed behaviour." (Oxford DNB)

Haywood's Fantomina: or, Love in a Maze (1725), a novella, is rather more ambiguous than either of these two novels, and in its interplay of adventure and didacticism it is, I think, the most interesting example of her fiction. Its heroine decides to try living like those other, scandalous women do, and puts on a series of disguises in order to do so (wealthy courtesan, country maid, recent widow). She finds pleasure but also learns unpleasant lessons, as when she seduces her lover in each of her disguises and receives his letters to each persona, all of which plainly illustrates his cheating ways. There is a moral of sorts to the story, and yet the ambiguities remain; it is a fascinating portrait of the contradictory standards women were socially expected to live up to. Fantomina exemplifies Haywood's belief that

"the most interesting and instructive stories occur when passion is intensified sufficiently to overcome prudence." (Introduction, Fantomina and Other Works, 16)

Haywood herself is almost as much of an enigma as Fantomina (indeed, "female authorship was widely considered to be the literary equivalent of prostitution" [Introduction, Fantomina and Other Works, 9]). There is not a great deal known about her life, at least not in comparison with her contemporaries Fielding and Richardson; the most widely disseminated tidbit about her is that she was mocked by Alexander Pope in his Dunciad (1728). But we must remember that

"[t]hough we now know little about the private woman behind [her] conspicuous success, our ignorance is not proof of her obscurity. ... Haywood was solidly enmeshed in the literary scene of her day." (Introduction, Love in Excess, 8)

She was born in Shropshire, married early (her maiden name was Eliza Fowler) and widowed probably by 1719/20, then lived with the poet Richard Savage, by whom she had a child. Beginning in 1724, she lived with William Hatchett, a bookseller and playwright, and had a son with him. She was an actress as well as author: her career on the stage began in 1715. While she began to write fiction in 1719, she continued to act for another two decades. Haywood was a vigorous and brilliant women whose prolific output in all kinds of literary and dramatic fields is incredible. She was active in other ways, too: she participated strenuously in politics, to the point of being brought in for questioning over her statements. She was a truly remarkable woman whose experimental and unconventional life and works are well worth reading as precedents of and precursors to the women authors, and women readers, of the later 18th and the 19th century.

Sources:
-- Paula R. Backscheider, 'Haywood, Eliza (1693?–1756),' Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford University Press, 2004); online edn, Sept 2010. [link]
-- Eliza Haywood, Fantomina and Other Works, ed. Alexander Pettit, Margaret Case Croskery, and Anna C. Patchias (Broadview Press, 2004). [link]
-- Eliza Haywood, The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless, ed. Christine Blouch (Broadview Press, 1998). [link]
-- Eliza Haywood, Love in Excess, ed. David Oakleaf (Broadview Press, 2000); 2nd edn. [link]
-- Haywood's Wikipedia page [link] has a list of her major works and a list of resources, including a modern biography.

~*~

Kat Aubrey is a historical fantasy writer and artist who currently spends most of her time being an English literature grad student. She's interested in 11th-12th and 18th-19th century England, gender studies, and modern subcultures like steampunk. Her Regency fashion drawings can be viewed in her art gallery, and she talks about her inspirations on her blog, The Minx's Farrago.

The Party's Over -- The end of the Peace Celebrations 1814

2011-05-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

All good things come to an end. After the Royal Wedding of two weeks ago, there was a massive clean-up to be done in London. Following the Olympic Games, wherever they are held, there are buildings to let, decorations to sell, and work to be done to return things to normal.

In the same way, after the Peace Celebrations of 1814, there was a huge amount of work to do to return London's parks to their more usual green and pleasant appearance.Hyde Park was home to the 'Jubilee Fair', troop reviews, triumphal processions, and a reenactment of the Battle of Trafalgar.

St. James Park hosted a seven-story Chinese Pagoda atop a decorative bridge, which in the evening caught fire and burned. The Battle of the Nile was reenacted there on the Canal. There were also display buildings. One of these, a handsome, octagonal affair designed by Nash, eventually went to Woolwich to become a public building.

Green Park had been home to the Castle of Discord which transformed on August 1, courtesy of Sir William Congreve, to the Temple of Concorde (designed by John Nash). There were numerous other buildings, display spaces and the like, and splendid fireworks.

By mid-August it was all over. And on October 16, 1814 an auction was held, in the Green Park, to sell off all the left-overs from the celebrations. I found this account of the auction in "The Literary Panorama, and National Register" for 1814, and I think it makes fascinating reading.

The Temple of Concord, and other preparations used in the late public rejoicings for the peace, were sold by auction. The first day's sale fetched 198l.6s.6d for 100 lots. The second day's sale was of 99 lots. The following are some of the prices obtained.

The sale commenced with the flag staff, on the top of the Upper Temple. The brokers viewed it as a common piece of fir, which might be converted into excellent firewood, and it was knocked down at 14s. Four rainbows, in spite of the scriptural allusions which they drew forth, produced only 4l. 3s. Eight Vestals were sold for 14l. 8s. Eight pair of Ionic columns, coloured to imitate Sienna marble, produced 21l. 8s. 6d. The Doric columns of which there were sixteen pair, painted in imitation of porphyry, averaged 1l. 12s. 6d. per pair. The four pyramidical pillars (shaped like cannon), ornamenting the corners of the first platform, were purchased by an individual, with all their appurtenances, for 16l. 9s.

The mechanical fountains, which are eight in number, sold for 10l. 16s.

How odd, and rather sad, to see the objects that had delighted so many and held such symbolism, reduced to being sold for firewood. I wonder what the purchasers did with the rainbows, and the Vestals. I could imagine the Vestals decorating some dandy's sitting room!

The sale continued with cornices, door-ways and such with inscriptions "on which Mr. Creaton sported many patriotic remarks". Here's a sample, both of the signs, and the prices they fetched:

The Regency   7 s.
Peace returning    7 s.
Europe rescued   8 s.
Strife descending    8 s.
The triumph of Britannia 2 l.10 s.
The Regent and Wellington 3 l.
The arms of England and France 2 l. 2 s.

The article ends as follows:"The sale of the exterior of the Temple of Concord concluded at five o'clock.
It produced the gross sum of 200l. 2s. 6d. What was the prime cost of materials?"

That's always the question, isn't it? How much does it cost to provide the people with "circuses". Is it value for money? And how do we cope when it's all over? Do the memories linger and delight? Or is there only the jaded sense of money and time wasted?

I personally believe in modest celebrations without waste of resources. Certainly the auction above recouped some expenses. But of course they had to do it all again, in 1815, after Waterloo.

Next week, guest blogger Kat Aubrey will be here, writing about a wildly popular female novelist of the 18th century, a woman whose novels would have been well known to the mothers of Regency ladies, and perhaps passed on by them to their daughters. Kat is a historical fantasy writer and artist who currently spends most of her time being an English literature grad student. She's interested in 11th-12th and 18th-19th century England, gender studies, and modern subcultures like steampunk. Her Regency fashion drawings can be viewed in her art gallery, and she talks about her inspirations on her blog, The Minx's Farrago.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

A note about William Henry Ireland--a Regency hoax

2011-05-13T10:27:00.000-07:00

Hello all--Blogger was down yesterday and though my new post was saved and scheduled, it was lost. So my post on the aftermath of the Peace Celebrations of 1814 is somewhere in the ether. I don't have time to redo it in the next couple of days, so it will have to wait for next week.

I do apologize for the lack of a post, but I offer you a Regency name and a fascinating story for you to pursue about a remarkable hoax: William Henry Ireland 1775-1835

As author Doug Stewart, in his book "The Boy Who Would be Shakespeare" put it "William-Henry Ireland committed the greatest Shakespeare hoax ever--and fooled even himself into believing he was the bard's true literary heir".

Read about William-Henry Ireland here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Henry_Ireland

and at the Smithsonian magazine here
and in the book "Literary Hoaxes" by Melissa Katsoulis--an interesting little volume.

'Til next time,
Blogger willing....

Lesley-Anne

P.S. Blogger has come through with the post I thought was lost--watch for it next Friday!

Weymouth -- Princess Charlotte's Refuge

2011-05-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

1814 was a difficult year for Princess Charlotte, daughter of the Prince Regent, heir to the throne of Great Britain. She had agreed, unwillingly, to wed the Prince of Orange; she had fallen in love with an unsuitable Prussian prince; her mother Caroline, Princess of Wales, was leaving the country--and her--for life on the continent; and her father had her virtually imprisoned in Cranbourne Lodge at Windsor.

But in August, things improved--she was permitted to go to the seaside, which doctors had recommended for her health. She wanted to visit Brighton, but her father chose Weymouth, long a royal seaside favourite and a goodly distance from his summer home.

The Duke of Gloucester had first wintered there in 1780 and had built a fine house, Gloucester Lodge. George III visited, and bought the house from his brother in 1789 and spent the following fourteen summers in Weymouth. The Lodge became the royal home-from-home for various of the Princesses, and it was there that Princess Charlotte arrived in August, and she stayed until December!

In his 1840's book The Spas of England, author A. B. Granville, declared that the town's situation--facing east--was a great detractor, and that it really was not suitable for patients being subject to east winds. He does however admit that the Esplanade is "one of the finest marine promenades I have seen in England". The Esplanade was about a mile long and it faced the fine sand beach which stretched for two miles in an arc.

John Constable painted the bay in 1816.

But it was the town that interested Princess Charlotte and, starved of company as she was, the people visiting there. Gloucester Lodge was situated on the Esplanade in the midst of the Georgian terraces and residences which still line it.

In 1815, A Guide to all the Watering and Sea-Bathing Places was published, and it devoted some ten pages to the delights of Weymouth:

"...by rapid enlargements, and many elegant buildings, it has now become a very respectable place, with a population of 4000 souls. The most fashionable residences are, the Royal Terrace, Gloucester-row, Chesterfield-place, etc., etc. These being in the vicinity of the rooms, the libraries, and the theatre, and commanding extensive views, both by sea and land, are held in general estimation by strangers as well as natives."

Sea-bathing was recommended--"immersion in the briny flood is safe and delightful". There were some forty bathing-machines "in constant requisition from six in the morning till noon". In addition there was a hot salt-water bath in the centre of town for use "in many cases of human infirmity" at the cost of 3s.6d per session.

There was one theatre which held upwards of four hundred spectators: "The house is elegantly fitted up, and the performers are frequently of the first order of merit." The public rooms were in Gloucester-row, owned by a Mr. Russel:

"The Assembly-room is lofty, light, and spacious, and very handsomely decorated, as well as delightfully situated. The master of the cermonies is Mr. Rodber..."

Among the regulations which Mr. Rodber instituted were:

1. That Gentlemen are not to appear in the rooms, either on Tuesday or Friday evenings, in boots; nor Ladies in riding-habits.

II. That the ball shall begin as soon as possible after seven o-clock, and finish precisely at eleven.

IV. That no Lady or Gentleman can be permitted to dance in coloured gloves.

V. That no tea-table be carried into the card-room.

VII. That Gentlemen will be pleased to leave their swords at the door.

The terms of subscription were not cheap--one pound for a single transferable ticket.

Wood's Library and Hervey's Library served the public; one had a card room in addition to its reading material, the other rented musical instruments as well as books. Hervey's Library additionally hosted the post-office with daily delivery to and from London. The Church of St. Mary is deemed, by the author of the guide, inadequate to its congregation and without interest to antiquarians but is considered to have a good organ "erected here in 1806, by voluntary subscription" and is much praised for its singing and music.

The town was well stocked with hotels, lodging houses and boarding houses, though "the price, though in some measure regulated by the number of rooms, is high." At the boarding houses--Scriven's on the Esplanade and Clark's in St. Mary-street--the terms are three guineas per week. Some inns and taverns are rated as 'good houses': the King's Head Inn, the Crown Inn, and the Golden Lion.

Princess Charlotte, accustomed to solitude and inactivity, must have been overwhelmed by the delights on offer. If one cared to walk, there was always the Esplanade, but also the nearby town of Melcombe Regis, connected by a bridge to Weymouth: "from thence along the Quay to the end of the New Pier, is an amusing saunter, replete with variety." There was a Camera Obscura near the Look-out on the bay, and the ruins of Sandsfoot Castle not so far away.

And then there were the 'Aquatic Excursions':

"Sailing and fishing in the bay is a frequent and pleasant amusement at Weymouth, and for this every facility is furnished by the industrious and obliging boatmen of the place."

Portland, with its seven villages, castle ruins, cavern, light-house and quarries was additionally a site of interest for visitors to Weymouth:

"about four miles from Weymouth, is commonly called an island, but is, properly speaking, a peninsula, as it joins the main land by an isthmus composed of a ridge of pebbles."

Princess Charlotte must have seen it all--she was in the vicinity for five months, and it was probably the most carefree period of her life. She had the intention to return for the people loved her; she was regarded as the queen who would redeem the monarchy. There were illuminations on her arrival in the town displaying, in the center, the motto:

Hail Princess Charlotte,
Europe's Hope and Britain's Glory

How could one not enjoy oneself with an adoring public, a host of entertainments--and an unprecedented degree of freedom to enjoy them? The following summer she was betrothed to the Prince of Saxe-Coburg, in 1816 she was wed, and in November of 1817, she died. I hope she made the most of her months in Weymouth--she deserved all the enjoyment it could offer.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Legendary 95th Rifles by Ginny McBlain

2011-04-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

Every army has its legendary units and Wellington’s was no exception. Among them were the 95th Regiment of Foot (Rifles), nicknamed the Green Jackets by the British and Grasshoppers by the French.

I was first introduced to the 95th in a made for TV movie, Sharpe’s Waterloo, based on the novels by Bernard Cornwell. Later I viewed Sharpe’s Rifles, the first of the film series. I was intrigued.

As I began thinking about writing a story set during the Regency, I realized much of my success has been in writing contemporary stories with a military background. Why not translate that “expertise” into a story with the backdrop of the Peninsular War?

I began studying the history of the Peninsular campaign and reading various novels set during the war. The more web sites I looked at, the more often I found reference to the Sharpe series for their accurate detail, especially in the uniforms. My husband bought the entire Sharpe series, all fifteen episodes. I’ve seen them at least four times each and noticed something new each time. As my study went on, I realized my hero had to be a rifleman.

Why, you ask? Because he is a duke’s second son, raised in that rarified atmosphere of wealth and deference to the nobility. I needed a scenario that would make him a tad less arrogant, more accessible and compassionate without making him less noble. The Rifles were so different from other units that being a rifleman would change his character enough to make him the kind of hero I envisioned.

The 95th were the sharpshooters, organized by Colonel Coote Manningham in 1800. They were unique in many ways from the rest of the army. Most visible was their uniform, a dark green and with black accessories, rather than the bright red and white of other regiments. The colors were an early version of camouflage. Instead of standard issue Brown Bess muskets, the 95th used the Baker rifle, a far more accurate weapon.

The rifles came into their own when Sir Arthur Wellesley reorganized his forces in 1809. Among his innovations, he attached at least one company of riflemen to each brigade.

(photo credit: by Jakednb Permission is granted to copy, distribute and/or modify this document under the terms of the GNU Free documentation License )

The men of the 95th were the first on the field of battle and last out. Their tactics, adapted from lessons learned fighting in North America, called for taking cover behind rocks, trees or whatever was available and catching the enemy unaware. They picked off the officers and sergeants to create confusion in the ranks of the enemy. The men were trained to think for themselves, to work in groups of twos, threes or even alone. The officers mingled with the enlisted troops more than was tradition. This not only built esprit de corps, but allowed the officers to know each man’s strengths and weaknesses and use him to best advantage.

During the Peninsular War the 95th served as part of the Light Division. This force saw action in many of the important battles during the entire six years of the campaign.

As victory was declared and Napoleon exiled to Elba, many of the battle hardened veterans were assigned posts in North America during the War of 1812. Some of those veterans were still in the army in 1815. The Green Jackets participated in the final defeat of Bonaparte at Waterloo. The 2/95th led Wellington’s Army in their triumphant march into Paris on the seventh of July 1815.

The 95th became legend, due, in part, to the memoirs of soldiers who served in the regiment. Among those were Harry Smith, later to distinguish himself as a Lieutenant General in the Victorian army, John Kincade, Jonathan Leach and Ned Costello.

Recommended for further study:
Mark Urban, Wellington’s Rifles
Georgette Heyer, The Spanish Bride (based on the true story of Harry Smith and his 14 year-old-bride, Juana)
Sir John Kincade, Random Shots from a Rifleman
Sir John Kincade, Adventures in the Rifle Brigade
Lt. Colonel Jonathan Leach, Rough Sketches of an Old Soldier
Edward Costello, The True Story of a Peninsular Rifleman
Lt. General Sir Harry Smith, Autobiography, available free online
Bernard Cornwell, the Sharpe novels
Sharpe series DVDs
The Royal Green Jacket Museum, Winchester, England
The Sharpe Compendium http://sharpecompendium.net

Ginny McBlain is an author of contemporary romance. At present she is meeting a new challenge—writing a historical set in the wonderful world of the Regency. Her work-in-progress, Honor Bound, is set against the backdrop of the Peninsular War.

Ginny is a pioneer in the field of electronic publishing. Her first e-book, Heart Broken, Heart Whole, was released in 1996. Both Bear Hugs and Faith, Hope and Charity were finalists in the EPPIE contest. She has served in writing organizations in many capacities, including first President of EPIC, the Electronically Published Internet Connection and the first EPIC conference chair.

Ginny’s books are available from Awe-Struck Publishing, and Uncial Press, in a variety of electronic formats. Visit her web site, www.ginnymcblain.com.

The Soho Bazaar 1815-1885

2011-04-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

When John Trotter, who had made a fortune supplying the Army during the recent war, opened The Soho Bazaar in 1815, he could not have known that he was creating a whole new shopping experience. He had merely an unused warehouse to fill with some sort of business, and he had a praiseworthy desire to assist the widows and daughters of Army officers killed in the Napoleonic War.

His warehouse, a substantial 300 by 150 feet, stood at the north-west corner of Soho Square. In it, he rented counter space--standings--to about 150 vendors at 3 pence per foot per day. Below is Soho Square in 1816 from Papworth's Views of London:

The Soho Bazaar was a benevolent exercise offering respectable women an opportunity to sell whatever fancy goods they could make in their homes. There was a certain stigma attached to public selling, and the righteous were quick to see opportunity for moral turpitude in the retail trade. In fact a ballad was published by printer James Calnach, deriding the leisured classes who frequented the Bazaar.

The Soho Bazaar

Ladies in furs and gemmen in spurs,
Who lollop and lounge about all day:
The Bazaar in Soho is completely the go--
Walk into the shop of Grimaldi!
Come from afar, here's the Bazaar!--
But if you won't deal with us, stay where you are."

But the majority of the public were supportive of the venture, and the popularity of the Bazaar was evidenced by the carriages that thronged the Square. Supporters like Joseph Nightingale "envisioned bazaars as the perfect mixture of capitalism and charity..." and one William Jerdan wrote a letter to the New Monthly Magazine. He declared the bazaar to help "a multitude of persons who have heretofore been condemned to penury and hopelessness by the insuperable difficulties and equally insuperable delicacies of their situation". The lady retailers were required to wear plain and modest clothes, there was a matron overseeing the whole, and unusually for the time, prices were fixed and marked on the product. The Gentlemen's Magazine remarked that the premises were "large, dry, commodious, well lighted, warmed, ventilated, and properly watched".

Goods sold in the early years included hats, reticules, lace, shawls, and toys; later the Bazaar included bookshops and bakeries and more. La Belle Assemblee, the famed ladies' periodical, published a news item regarding the Bazaar in 1826:

The Soho Bazaar

Possibly it may be information to some of the readers of La Belle Assemblee to state that, in consequence of the increased attendance of company, and of the increased demand for standings, at this place of fashionable resort, an additional suite of rooms has been opened up-stairs. This bazaar is well entitled to the patronage it enjoys, were it only for the support which it affords to young and respectable women.

An interesting sidelight to the Soho Bazaar is that famed artist, J.M.W. Turner, was attending school at the Soho Academy also in the Square. He was a frequenter of the Bazaar, and was quoted thus:

"As a boy, I used to lie for hours on my back watching the skies, and then go home and paint them; and there was a stall in Soho Bazaar where they sold drawing materials, and they used to buy my skies. They gave me 1s6d for the small ones and 3s6d for the larger ones."

The Soho Bazaar spawned a great fashion for bazaars (the name came from the Turkish with Italian intervention) and by 1830 there were many throughout London. One of the most famous was the Pantheon Bazaar, below as the building appeared in 1816 when it was still in use as an assembly room.

Then in the 1830's it was transformed and below is its appearance in 1845:

There is no drawing extant of the Soho Bazaar but I like to think it must have been somewhat similar, at least, to the Pantheon, with the great pillars of the warehouse rising above the selling floor. In June 1816 George Cruickshank issued a caricature entitled 'A Bazaar'--it was rife with references to the supposed negative and injurious aspects of such establishments.

Nevertheless charity bazaars proliferated throughout the 19th century, but excepting only that of the "Ladies Royal Benevolent Society" who began their charity fancy sales in 1813, the Soho Bazaar was the first. And it continued until 1885--a good run by any standards.

Join us next week when multi-published author Ginny McBlain joins us to discuss "The Legendary 95th Rifles". Ginny is an author of contemporary romance. At present she is meeting a new challenge—writing a historical set in the wonderful world of the Regency. Her work-in-progress, Honor Bound, is set against the backdrop of the Peninsular War.

Ginny is a pioneer in the field of electronic publishing. Her first e-book, HeartBroken, Heart Whole, was released in 1996. Both Bear Hugs and Faith, Hope and Charity were finalists in the EPPIE contest. She has served in writingorganizations in many capacities, including first President of EPIC, theElectronically Published Internet Connection and the first EPIC conferencechair.

Ginny’s books are available from Awe-Struck Publishing, andUncial Press, in a variety of electronic formats. Visit herweb site, www.ginnymcblain.com.

I hope you can join us. 'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

---
Sources:

Dyer, Gary R. "The Vanity Fair of Nineteenth Century England." Nineteenth Century Literature, vol. 46 no. 2 (Sept. 1991): 196-222.
Prochaska, F. K. "Charity Bazaars in Nineteenth-Century England." Journal of British Studies, vol. 16 no. 2 (Spring, 1977): 62-84.
Hindley, Charles. Life and Times of James Calnach. 1878.
Knight, Charles. London. 1851.
Whitlock, Tammy C. Crime, Gender and Consumer Culture in 19th Century England. Ashgate, 2005.
"The Soho Bazaar." BBC h2g2 Entry. http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A684434

Oh, I love a book sale!

2011-04-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

I've been to a book sale! Used books, I must admit--no author royalties paid unfortunately--the only down-side to an otherwise sublime experience. What is better than three or four hours spent trawling among shelves and shelves of books? And if the money didn't go to the authors, at least it went to a good charity--our local symphony society.

I started the afternoon by finding a biography of George IV--our own Prinny--by Joanna Richardson. I had not come across this bio before; it is titled 'George the Magnificent' with a copyright of 1966. It should prove interesting in relation to the other biographies of the Prince Regent in my collection.

I moved on to discover a Penguin book--'The Diary of a Napoleonic Foot Soldier'. This is a memoir by a German conscript Jakob Walter, and looks very interesting. So little first person information is available about the common soldier of the era; it was satisfying find.

Then I found several nice little hardcovers of Jane Austen's work which will probably end up as prizes in my website contest. Likewise a good fresh used copy of the 1995 out of print book 'Landscapes of Britain'.

A real treat was a lovely hardcover titled 'Beningfield's English Villages'. Gordon Beningfield's luminous paintings are an inspiration and a joy.

"Great British Families' by Debrett's has some excellent illustrations, and with chapter titles like 'New Men' and 'Whig Magnates' promises good reading. 'Victorian and Edwardian London' by A. R. Hope Moncrieff, although not Regency-related, looks packed with information. I paid $3 for it; I think that was a good deal! Nearly everything was only $1-$2, only a little more for extra special finds.

Loosely related to the Regency were my purchases of "Disraeli" by Stanley Weintraub; a massive tome of some 700 pages that looks terrific, and a 1953 edition of Washington Irving's 'The Sketch Book'. To round out my historical reading, I found--illustrative of the other periods of history that interest me--'A Medieval Family: The Pastons of 15th century England' by Frances and Joseph Gies and, 'In a Gilded Cage: From Heiress to Duchess' by Marian Fowler about the American heiresses who married British aristocrats in the late 19th century.

I've only recently discovered Canadian author Marian Fowler. I highly recommend her biographies, all written in the 1980's and 90's. I don't know if she is still writing, but her work is delightful--impeccably researched and sparkling prose. I just finished 'Below the Peacock Fan' about the ladies of the British Raj, and discovered that I have her biography of 'Blenheim'--yes, the house--on my shelves.

My purchasing was rounded off with a couple of novels by some favourite contemporary authors of mine, Erica James and Katie Fforde. I bought a book called "Cross-Stitch Florals" though I don't have time to undertake another project. If I do though, these ones are great! I got a book of Edward Thomas' poetry and discovered a series called the 'Small Oxford Books' which is delightful. I bought their 'Hotels and Inns', 'The Country House', and 'The Pleasures of the Table'. Each book is a compilation of quotes, from all eras of history, about the title topic. Great bed-time reading!

'The Faber Book of Epigrams and Epitaphs' from 1977 completed my purchases. This is a very funny book and does relate to the Regency or at least the Georgian era with this offering from Walter Savage Landor:

The Georges
George the First was always reckoned
Vile, but viler George the Second;
And what mortal ever heard
Any good of George the Third?
When from earth the Fourth descended
(God be praised!) the Georges ended.

It was a great day at the book sale. My purse is empty and my book shelves are full so it's fortunate that it comes only once a year. But I have reading material now until it comes around again. Oh, wait, there is the University Women's Book Sale in the autumn...hmmmmm.....

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Ladies' Fashionable Repository

2011-04-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

One of the less well-known and seldom-mentioned Regency magazines for ladies was The Ladies' Fashionable Repository published from 1809-1829. Yet, I find it to be one of the most entertaining and, indeed, one of the most useful of the popular journals of the day. I cannot discover much information about it; its founder calls it a 'pocket-book' and it seems to have appeared bi-monthly in its first years rather than weekly or monthly.

In the end analysis, The Ladies' Fashionable Repository turned out to be one of the longest lived of the ladies' magazines, but it underwent several changes. From 1829-1834, the founder and publisher J. Raw added his name to the title. Then, from 1837, the magazine became Pawsey's Ladies' Fashionable Repository and continued in publication for the next sixty-eight years.

Its contents were varied. It particularly emphasized puzzles, charades, conundrums, rebuses and riddles--the activities much enjoyed by a pre-TV, pre-computer game society. I think I will devote another post to those items of recreation!

The magazine accepted new poetry by both known and unknown authors. Walter Scott contributed "The Violet" in about 1814:

"The violet, in her green-wood bower,
Where birchen boughs with hazles mingle,
May boast itself the fairest flower
In glen or copse or forest dingle."

Not his greatest work perhaps--it continues for two more stanzas--but charming.

Intermingled with such poetic gems were solidly useful items.
Here is an excerpt from the tables of the new window tax:

Likewise, below is a excerpt from an entry on the house duty and taxes on servants:

The charges levied by hackney chairmen took two pages, here is a portion of it::

One issue, circa 1814, included an absolutely delightful 'song' titled "Hyde Park on a Sunday". It has an immediacy that brings the world of the Regency to life, and makes it understandable and very close to contemporary with our own world.

It continues for two pages, politically incorrect for our times, but otherwise remarkably timely.

In another issue, a poem disguised as a letter purporting to be true fact, about Bath and its assemblies includes these lines:

"In Bath, dear Eliza, what pleasures abound!
Where we skip all the night to the violin's sound;
Where beauties unnumber'd hold absolute sway,
Whose charms shed a lustre that rivals the day."

Every issue of the journal held a plate of a stately home and a description of the property and its owner. These were not always the huge palaces of the nobility but the smaller houses of the lesser aristocracy, many of which no longer exist. Here is Helmingham Hall, Suffolk, seat of Lord Dysart, from 1809:

In the introductory issue, J. Raw used a technique that is still often employed to draw in customers and reward faithful readers. He held a contest, and the prize was future issues of The Ladies' Fashionable Repository. And he sees fit to thank his patrons for their purchase of his product:

We can only thank him for publishing a magazine that has survived these two hundred years and brings us a view of Regency life that is at once different yet very familiar to us.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Charles Molloy Westmacott - "virulent scribbler"

2011-04-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

If you are born a man of modest, or even straightened, means in a time when wealth, nobility and society are all important, what can you do? You can either strive with all your resources to join said society--claw your way up the social ladder--or you can denigrate that society in order to indicate that you have no admiration for it, and that you believe it to be valueless.

Charles Molloy Westmacott chose the latter alternative. He was born in 1788, the illegitimate son (he claimed) of the artist Richard Westmacott and Susannah Molloy, an inn-keeper. Though enemies claimed he was the son of a chimney sweep, he was well educated, and he spent many of his early years in the art and theatre worlds.

In the early 1820's he entered the publishing world. For some years he had been collecting documents 'relating to the aristocracy' and he realized he could profit from the information he had gathered. He began writing, and what he wrote was always controversial, often actionable, and usually scandalous.

In 1825, he achieved a pinnacle of notoriety with the publication of "The English Spy" using a pseudonym 'Bernard Blackmantle'.

The "Spy" covered many aspects of life within the world of the beau monde, particularly commenting upon the worlds of Eton and Oxford. But the society of Brighton and of Mayfair were also derided and The "Spy" begins with a 'poem':

But society did not view his pages with good humour for even the frontispiece illustration and the accompanying text poked fun at them, based on the Five Orders of Architecture:

His connections in the art world ensured that his book was illustrated by top rank artists, Robert Cruickshank and the then elderly Thomas Rowlandson. The material Westmacott included in his book was carefully designed to portray society in its worst light:

"The swaggering broad-shouldered blade who follows near him, with a frontispiece like the red lion, is the well know radical, Jack S____h, now agent to the French consul for this place, and the unsuccessful candidate for the independent borough of Shoreham."

Women were not immune from his acid tongue:

The plump looking dame on the right, is Aug--ta C--ri, (otherwise lady H-----e); so called after the P--n--ss A-------a, her godmamma.

In 1825 Westmacott also published under the same pseudonym, a roman a clef titled "Fitzalleyne of Berkeley; a Romance of the Present Times". It recounted a hot gossip story thinly disguised, and excited much distress among the actual participants in the events.

His path now determined, Westmacott became editor of a Sunday weekly paper "The Age" in 1827. "The Age", which first appeared in 1825, was all about gossip and scandal, heresay and irregularity. His mildest writings were still tongue in cheek:

"Through a slight return of the gout, His Majesty [George IV, formerly the Prince Regent] has most prudently postponed the Drawing Room which was to have been held on Thursday--but we are assured it will delight our readers to know that His Majesty's health is so far renovated as to preclude the chance of any further disappointment."

His Majesty was, of course, extremely unpopular, and there was probably no delight felt in any reader about the health of the King.

Charles Westmacott died in 1868 having spent a lifetime disparaging the beau monde. He was described at one point in his career as "the principal blackmailing editor of his day". He said of himself in the introduction to "The English Spy":

...he has no tongue for scandal--no pen for malice--no revenge to gratify, but is only desirous of attempting a true portraiture of men and manners, in the higher and more polished scenes of life.

It was, of course, all untrue. He was seeking revenge, on a society that rejected him. And he seemed satisfied with the results of his labour. The National Portrait Gallery has a wonderful drawing of Westmacott by artist Daniel Maclise. You can view it here--he looks to me to be a self-satisfied man. Tabloid journalism of today has its origins with writers such as Charles Molloy Westmacott--to my mind, a doubtful legacy.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources: Charles Molloy Westmacott and the Spirit of the Age by David E. Latane. Victorian Periodicals Review, Volume 40, Number 1, Spring 2007 pp. 44-72

Wikipedia.org

The Joys of Brighton by Guest Blogger Janet Mullany

2011-03-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

I get up every morning at half past six and goes out on the beach looking at the boys catching crabs and eels and lookeing at the people batheing. There are numbers of old wimin have little wooden houses on wheeles, and into these houses people goe that want to bathe, and then the house is pushed into the water and when the person has undressed they get into the water and then get into the wooden house again and dress themselves, the house is drawn on shore again. (Diary ofWilliam Tayler, footman, 1837)

Even for a servant Brighton was a holiday resort, and William’s diary is full of sea bathing, rowing, an account of an election and a visit to Brighton Races. There was plenty to do in the town even if you were only a (privileged) servant. And if you were wealthy … chances are you’d spend a lot of time undergoing a rigorous sea bathing (and drinking) regime, as well as indulging in other fashionable but more pleasant pursuits.

I used Brighton as one of the settings in my most recent book, Mr Bishop and the Actress, since I’d visited the town in 2009. Of course I went to the Royal Pavilion but my main objective was to visit the Regency Town House, a house undergoing meticulous restoration in Brunswick Square, with a basement annexe/servants’ quarters a few doors down which has barely been touched for almost two centuries.

First, I have to share what I learned about the appearance of the town since so many writers get it wrong (and I would have, too). It was not always white and gleaming. In fact, the early developers, with an eye to those who visited for health as much as fashion, left the natural stone, the same as that of the sidewalks, its soft gray-brown color. Railings were dark green, not black. The whole effect was one of softness and harmony with nature.

The architect of Brunswick Square, Charles Augustin Busby (who visited the USA in 1817 and may have been inspired by Boston architecture), designed not only vacation houses for the rich and powerful visiting the town, but also more modest housing—and a church (above left)—nearby to support the huge support staff needed for their luxurious accommodation. The square, built in the 1820s, had running water, gas lights, and the latest in elegant, well proportioned rooms.

The Regency Town House, number 22, is the only house in Brighton that still boasts the complete set of original storm shutters, seen here from the first floor salon (or second floor in American).

Its kitchen is highly sophisticated, matching the technological advances of that of the Pavilion, where superchef Antonin Careme spent an unhappy, homesick year in 1817. You can see here the reconstructed skylight that brings ventilation and light into the basement kitchen.

I finished my visit with a nice of tea and a toasted teacake at a beach cafe. And, yes, the entire beach consists of pebbles. No sand in sight, but it’s part of Brighton’s charm.

Janet Mullany is an award-winning, multi-published author who writes books set mainly in Regency England. Janet is originally from England but now lives near Washington, DC. Visit her at her website here

Janet's most recent book is "Mr. Bishop and the Actress", available now from Little Black Dress :

I had a great title. I had a great scenario, a woman being dropped by her protector, and a great first line:

Sorry, darling, it’s either you or the horses.

Mourning in "The Ladies' Monthly Museum"The Death of Princess Charlotte

2011-03-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

I have been reading about Princess Charlotte of Wales, daughter of our Prince Regent and his unloved wife Caroline of Brunswick, lately. The book I just finished was 'Becoming Queen Victoria' (by Kate Williams) which had a useful, if somewhat dramatic, take on the life of the erstwhile Princess.

Then I found, in The Ladies' Monthly Museum of November and December 1817, coverage of her death, and the outpouring of national grief that followed it. The reaction was similar to that which occurred on the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, but there was much more reason for the public reaction.

Charlotte was the last hope of a nation depressed by the illness of its king, and tired, disgusted and disheartened by the behaviour of the Prince Regent. There was a belief that she would be the monarch they had been waiting for, a queen who would right all the wrongs perpetrated by her forebears, exclude her dissolute uncles from the throne, and make her people--burdened by economic hardship--happy. And then it was all cut short on November 6, 1817 and The Ladies' Monthly Museum lamented:

The sudden, unexpected, and melancholy death of the only presumptive Heiress to the Crown of England in direct succession (after being delivered of a still-born son,) in the bloom of youth and beauty, in the height of her happiness, in the midst of conjugal endearments, beloved and respected, with the prospect of attaining the pinnacle of human greatness, has excited a general sentiment of sympathy and sorrow throughout the country; absorbed every other consideration; and for a time exclusively fixed our attention upon the character of illustrious victim, and the future consequences of her loss.

The Museum took an idealized engraving of the princess and turned it into a keepsake that no doubt was framed by many, and enshrined:

Following this portrait was a twelve page "Memoir of the Life, Death, and Funeral, of her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte Augusta." In the same issue, in the column titled Epitome of Public Affairs, was a five page article on the funeral of the Princess. It includes information on the body's preparation for burial (!), minute details of the coffin ('massive handles with enriched chased borders'), and the activities of each half hour of Wednesday, November 19, the day of the funeral.

There were regular articles in this issue of the Monthly Museum (A New System of Mythology, Comic Use of a Retentive Memory) but they were interspersed with further outpourings of grief:

Even the Fashion Notes for which The Ladies' Monthly Museum was notable were all about mourning clothes. "...it is soothing to our feelings to perceive the general respect paid to her memory by all classes of people, no person of decent appearance being seen out of mourning."

The walking dress is black bombazeen with black crape trim. Worn over it is a pelisse of black Levantine. The French bonnet is of black Leghorn. The evening dress is black crape over black sarsnet. trimmed with jet beads. All the jewelry is of jet.

The Museum always included a 'Costume Parisiennes' column. This month it begins:

"The latest accounts from Paris announce that the French court have gone into mourning for our Princess, for eleven days, and all the English of distinction have paid her memory a similar mark of respect:..."

'The more things change, the more they stay the same' -- we may not wear mourning clothes any more, but the reaction to tragedy has not altered in the last two hundred years.

But on to more cheerful matters--next week, award-winning, multi-published Regency author Janet Mullany will visit to blog about Brighton. Please join us then!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Button and Whitaker, St. Paul's Churchyard, London

2011-03-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

In The Ladies' Fashionable Repository for 1811, I found a few weeks ago a page titled "Button and Whitaker's New Country Dances, for 1811". It included some twenty-four dances, listing titles and brief instructions on the new movements. Here is a sample from the page:

The Spanish Cloak--Turn your partner round with the right hand, the second couple do the same, lead down the middle, up again, turn round.
Cheltenham Waltz--Turn three with the first lady, the same with the first gentleman, lead down the middle, four couple up again, and swing corners.

The dances and their names were charming but who, I wondered, were Button and Whitaker? Research was required--I never find it a hardship!

Button and Whitaker, I discovered, were among the premier music publishers and musical instrument sellers of Regency England. They were located in St. Paul's Churchyard, according to Frank Kidson, author of the article Handel's Publisher from Oxford University Press:

"At the North West corner, ...was in 1731 located Peter Thompson at the "Violin and Hautboy." The Thompson family with their successors, Button and Whitaker, held the business here until about 1830."

St. Paul's Churchyard had been throughout the 1700's and into the mid 1800's a center of musical retailing, along with its bookshops and book publishing. The reason for this, according to Sir John Hawkins (in his book The History of Music) was that "the service at the Cathedral drew together, twice a day, all the lovers of music in London.."

Button and Whitaker frequently published such collections of new dances. They also published booklets such as New Instructions for the German Flute, containing the easiest & most modern methods for learning to play, etc.; Pocket Collection of Favourite Marches; and Dr. Clarke's Arrangement of Handel. Other of their titles included: 1816 Companion to the Ballroom; "Selection of dances, reels, and waltzes for the Pfte., Harpsichord, Violin, or German Flute", No. 8,; and Opera of THE LORD OF THE MANOR, Written by C. Dibdin, Jun. It seems to have been a sizable operation, with a wide and voluminous production of sheet music.

Button and Whitaker also published a version of Thomas Moore's Celebrated Irish Melodies, arranged for the Harp or Pianoforte; with introductionry, intermediate, and concluding Symphonies, composed by John Whitaker.

It appears Mr. Whitaker did a considerable amount of composing; one advertisment mentioned: "Paddy Carey; a celebrated Air; composed by Whitaker. Arranged as a Rondo for the Piano-forte..."

They also sold instruments. One mention of a boxwood clarinet by Button and Whitaker is still current on the internet. I've not been able to discover more information about their instrument sales as yet.

An interesting sidelight showed up in my research. In the Proceedings of the Old Bailey, dated January 11, 1815 the following appears:

HENRY BOND KERRIDGE . I am collecting clerk to Messrs Button and Whitaker ; they are in the musical line. This happened to me on Wednesday, the 7th of December, a quarter before seven o'clock in the evening. I was opposite of Mr. Ross's Fish-warehouse in Lombard-street. I was surrounded by five men; some of them pulled me violently by the collar of my coat, and struck me a violent blow on the head; while the prisoner snatched my watch from my fob.

Mr. Kerridge had a very bad experience apparently, but eventually the prisoner was found 'not guilty'! What was a 'collecting clerk', I wonder, and how many did Messrs. Button and Whitaker employ?

I hope that I can discover more information about Button and Whitaker. I wonder if Jane Austen purchased any of her sheet music from them....

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Susanna Strickland Moodie--Unexpectedly a Regency Lady

2011-03-04T18:25:00.000-08:00

Susanna Strickland was born in Bungay, Suffolk, in 1803. Her childhood and all her formative years were spent in the environment of the Regency of George, Prince of Wales. She published children's stories in the early 1820's after the Regency had ended and George IV sat on the throne of England. In the late 1820's, she began submitting poetry to the women's magazines and annuals of the day.The Edinburgh Literary Journal of 1830 called her "a very great creature, who writes, we observe, in all the Annuals". Tongue-in-cheek?

I encountered Susanna in La Belle Assemblee 1828 with a pretty poem titled "There's Joy When the Rosy Morning":

There's joy when the rosy morning floods
The purple East with light;
When the zephyr sweeps from a thousand buds
The pearly tears of night:
There's joy when the lark exulting springs
To pour his matin lay;
From the blossomed thorn when the blackbird sings,
And the merry month is May.

Something about her name nagged at me; it sounded familiar. After worrying at the problem for days, I finally had it--Susanna Strickland MOODIE. As a Canadian I knew of Susanna Strickland Moodie, and her sister Catherine Parr Strickland Traill. Their writings on pioneer life in Canada in the 1830's and 1840's are among our national treasures. I had read both Susanna's Roughing It in the Bush and Catherine's The Backwoods of Canada when I was in my teens. Susanna's book I recall for its miserable, angry tone; Catherine's was more accepting but, perhaps because of that, a little less interesting.

So was the Susanna Strickland of 1820's England one and the same with Susanna Moodie of 1830's Canada? It took only a little research and a couple of mouse clicks to confirm it.

The Strickland sisters whose writings I read were two of five sisters, four of whom were writers. Agnes Strickland became renowned for her historical biographies of England's royalty.

Catherine wrote a very popular children's book, Little Downy, in 1822 and became well-known for her children's writing before marrying and emigrating.

Both she and Susanna were friends and correspondents of famed British author Mary Russell Mitford (about whom I have not blogged, but have several times mentioned in my blogs). With Agnes' help they became well-connected in the literary world of 19th century London.

There's joy abroad when the wintry snow
Melts as it ne'er had been;
When cowslips bud, and violets blow,
And leaves are fresh and green:
There's joy in the swallow's airy flight;
In the cuckoo's blithesome cry;
When the floating clouds reflect the light
Of evening's glowing sky.

In her later years, Susanna wrote novels as well as her 'emigrants' guide' to pre-Confederation Canada. Catherine continued her non-fiction work after The Backwoods of Canada, with books on Canadian wild flowers and Canadian housekeeping!

Like any Regency lady, Susanna was an accomplished amateur artist, producing pictures later in life of Canadian flowers. I will need to do more research to discover if her art was used in Catherine's nature books.

I was surprised to discover two Canadian legends had their origins in Regency England. But then that's the joy of research...

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

References:

Sisters in Two Worlds: A Visual Biography of Susanna Moodie and Catharine Parr Traill by Michael Peterman and Charlotte Gray

Roughing it in the Bush by Susanna Moodie (numerous editions)

The Journals of Susanna Moodie edited by Margaret Atwood and Charles Pachter

The Backwoods of Canada: Being Letters from the Wife of an Emigrant Officer by Catherine Parr Traill (numerous editions)

Pearls and Pebbles; Or, Notes of an Old Naturalist by Catherine Parr Strickland Traill

Lives of the Queens of England from the Norman Conquest by Agnes Strickland and Elizabeth Strickland

Exploring the Building of Bath by Guest Blogger Louise Allen

2011-02-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

Thank you so much for inviting me to your blog. I thought your readers might be interested in a visit I have just paid to Bath.

I love Bath, and I’m sure anyone with an interest in the 18th and early 19thc does too if they’ve been there. Ravishing golden stone, elegant buildings,wonderful views and the ghosts of so many real and fictional characters–-how can it fail to enthrall?

One wonderful little museum is the Building of Bath Museum in the old Countess of Huntingdon’s Connection chapel. (The first photograph shows the lovely curve of the Paragon Buildings on the right. The Chapel is just a little further along.

The countess, determined to root out sin and debauchery by the application of soundMethodist principles, had the chapel built in 1765 to try and improve the morals of Bath. By all accounts she failed-–it was a tough job--but the chapel remains as the only surviving Gothic revival building of the 18thc in the city.

Dr Amy Frost of the Bath Preservation Trust gave a fascinating lecture at the chapel this week on the development of the city, especially the work of John Wood the Elder who was responsible for the explosion of Palladian-style buildings which so characterise 18thc Bath, the period when it was a highly fashionable spa town and High Society poured in there to take the waters, gamble, eat too much, take more of the waters in an attempt at a cure for their digestions and then gamble some more.

John Wood was, to be honest, a trifle odd. Actually, more than a trifle. He was convinced that architecture was invented by the builders of Solomon’s templeand that the Greeks and Romans stole the Classical orders (Doric, Ionic andCorinthian) from them and corrupted this sacred design. He maintained that Bladud, the mythical founder of Bath (an ancient prince who contracted a nasty skin disease, was thrown out of court, became a swineherd and who was cured when his swine found the Bath hot springs) was present at the building of the temple and then came back to Britain and passed on the secrets to the Druids who built Stonehenge as a result. This would make Bladud 500 years old, but Wood was not going to let such trifles stand in the way of a good story.

He was not a very sound structural architect-–he rapidly learned to design thefrontages and then employ people who knew how to make drains work and walls stand up to do the rest. The exploding privies for the Duke of Chandos were, apparently, a major learning point for him. The duke was not amused.

But Wood was an inspired salesman (and copyist, cheerfully lifting the designs ofsuch successful architects as Colin Campbell) and was soon responsible for virtually every major building in the city from the 1720s to his death in 1754as he was building the Circus. The photograph shows part of the circle of buildings of the Circus. And, of course, being inspired by the temple of Solomon and the Druids, the Circus is built on arcane mathematical principles meant to reflect the second temple and Stonehenge itself. The location of the Circus, he believed (on no evidence whatsoever), was an ancient British temple to the sun.

The work was finished by his son, John Wood the Younger. By all accounts John Jnr was a much better practical architect – the wonderful Royal Crescent is his construction. His father had already picked out the site as the location of a temple to the crescent moon, of course.

Yet however odd Wood’s theories might have been, and however shaky his grasp of plumbing, he was an inspired town planner and the Bath we so enjoy today is very much down to him.

But by the end of the 18thc and the beginning of the 19thc Bath was changing. In 1793 the Bath banks suffered a collapse. High Society was heading for Brighton in droves and instead of the aristocracy the middle classes moved in. Bath was the perfect city for them with shops, refreshment rooms and libraries. Glancing up as I walked along I found the ghost of one of those–-a “circulating library and reading room.

Elegant villas took over from fashionable terraces and Bath was no longer a hotbed of scandal and gaming, more a genteel resort for Regency visitors, a good place tolive for the professional classes and the ideal place to reside if one was wanting to make ends meet in elegant surroundings as Jane Austin’s family was.

Tragically much of the building of the late 18th and early 19thc, especially the “artisan” dwellings, fell victim to the most violent programmes of demolition during the 1960s and 70s – licensed vandalism that helped create the conservation movement that finally put an end to such thoughtless destruction. But the core of the city that Jane Austen, Beau Nash, and so many grand dames, roués, rakes andscoundrels knew, remains.

We had a behind the scenes peek at an exhibition of maps of Bath “Putting Bath onthe Map” 19 February – 28th November (www.bptlearning.org.uk)and heard about the amazing digital archive Bath In Time (www.bathintime.co.uk) which is well worthexploring.

I love walking old towns and cities – my Walks through Regency London is out now(£8.50 in the Uk. Email me for details louiseallen.regency@tiscali.co.uk)– and Bath, so compact, is a perfect city to explore on foot.

Alsothis month I’ve got Regency Pleasures out with HMB – two of my favourite booksfrom 2005 (The Model Debutante and The Marriage Debt) in one lovely volume.There are extracts and details of all my books at www.louiseallenregency.co.uk

Have you visited Bath? Did you love it as much as I did I wonder!

Louise

Never a Bad Hair Day in Regency England

2011-02-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

Bonnets, hats, bandeaux, turbans, caps, and veils--Regency fashion has any number of ways of concealing the hair of the highly fashionable ladies of the ton. Often, as a result, the styles of hairdressing themselves are overlooked.

As I have been looking at fashion journals lately, I decided to take particular note of the descriptions of hair styles. And, as I was considering pictures, I cropped out some head illustrations because I find, in looking at fashion plates, I am often so distracted by the details of dress that I don't consider the head unless it wears a striking bonnet. I wonder what that is on the 1807 head above right--pearl droplets?

This hair illustration from 1807 suits a description in La Belle Assemblee from a year later:

"Cropt hair, confined with a band, and curled over the left eye."

In the same issue, from January 1808, another style is described :

"The hair confined from the root, the ends flowing in irregular curls, leaving the forehead and temples exposed."

In January 1810 a more substantial description of evening hairstyles was given:

"The hair is either worn brought forward in a full tuft of curls on one side the face, or else closely twisted up behind, and confined with a pearl comb; a wreath of heath is placed at the back of the head a-la Daphne, encircling the knot of hair twisted twice round, and inclining to the left ear.."

The styles below each seem illustrative of that report.

Descriptions from the Edinburgh Annual Review of 1813 are less fulsome:

"Hair in curls and ringlets confined on the crown of the head, and intermixed with flowers."

"Hair twisted up behind in a very large full bow, divided in front, and much fuller on the temples than last month."

Ackermann's Repository for January 1815 describes the classic style we tend to associate with the Regency:

"Hair parted in the centre of the forehead, confined in the Grecian style, and blended with flowers."

In June of the same year, the Repository describes: "Hair in irregular curls, blended with a wreath of lilac."

This illustration from 1819 is unmistakably late Regency; the face shows an almost Victorian sensibility. The hair is showing an emphasis on symmetrical side curls that was to develop and deepen during Victoria's reign before the curls eventually were replaced by simpler bands of hair.

For all the elaborate dressing of hair, products were seldom mentioned in advertising. Atkinson's Curling Fluid and Rowland's Macassar Oil appear in advertisements in La Belle Assemblee in 1815, but no dedicated shampoos appear for sale. Indeed the word 'shampoo'--from Hindi--meant, in the early 1800s, a sort of head massage with oil. Late in the Regency, soap began to be shaved into boiling water and herbs added for fragrance, and the resulting mixture used for particularly washing the hair.

In the present day, we have hundreds of products for the enhancement of the hair, and yet hair styles have never been simpler. How exquisitely ironic!

Next week, popular author Louise Allen will visit to talk about "Exploring the Building of Bath". In her own words, "The Regency is my passion. I find it an endlessly fascinating era full of contrast and change, danger and elegance, luxury and squalor." You can visit Louise here, to read her complete bio and view her impressive books list.

She has two new releases; one is Walks Through Regency London, and another is a double fiction treat Regency Pleasures.

Be sure to join us next Friday for Louise's fascinating look at Bath.

'Til then,

Lesley-Anne

John Flaxman--Classicist

2011-02-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

John Flaxman, devoted to classicism, a talented artist and sculptor, was as instrumental in forming the 'look' of the Regency world as the great designer, Robert Adam. I mentioned Flaxman briefly in a previous blog but he deserves a second, and much longer, look. His self-portrait, right

John Flaxman was born in 1755, some twenty-five years younger than his near contemporary Robert Adam. Like Adam he was steeped from his earliest days in the classical art, architecture and design of the Greeks. The son of a maker of plaster casts, he was a sickly child who spent his youth among his father's stock in trade and studied classical texts in order to understand them.

His artistic talent was developed early with help from patrons who were his father's customers. Renowned painter George Romney was an early admirer, and William Blake became one of his best friends. His early success was rewarded with honours which led him to become something of a 'coxcomb', but he could not earn a living from his work.

At 19 he began to work for Josiah Wedgwood, modelling classical figures for the trademark work of the famed potter. The cabinet, left, contains Wedgwood plaques thought to be his work.

He worked for Wedgwood for twelve years, honing his skill at bas-relief. As well, in 1780 he began to use that skill in producing grave monuments. His memorial work became very well-known and eventually his monuments graced churches all over the country, influencing the artistic taste and world view of the late Georgians.

From 1787 to 1794 he lived, with his wife, in Italy furthering his fascination and expertise with classical art and sculpture. It was there he undertook a marble sculpture--Fury of Athamas, right--which set the tone for future sculptural groups.

While in Britain he became best known for his sculptural and monumental work, on the continent he was famous for his work in outline design illustrations for classical literature. He was commissioned to do designs for the Iliad and Odyssey, for Dante and Aeschylus, for Hesiod and Pilgrim's Progress. Below top, from the Odyssey, Circe; below bottom, from the Odyssey, Suitors

In later life, John Flaxman exhibited every year at the Royal Academy of which he was an associate; he became a full Academician in 1800. He continued to produce public monuments and memorials for churches. His opinion in favour of the purchase of the Elgin marbles was much respected by the parliamentary commission studying the matter.

When you observe the Regency world you are seeing the influence of John Flaxman. He died in December 1826; he was by all accounts a good man and a good friend. He left a great body of work and a treasured memory and a legacy that informs Regency lovers today.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

What Better Time for Reading...

2011-02-04T08:00:00.000-08:00

What better time for reading than the middle of winter, when the snow piles high and the thermometer sinks low. I've been doing a lot of reading lately, and I thought I would share the books I am enjoying with you.

Mr. Langshaw's Square Piano: The Story of the First Pianos and How They Caused a Cultural Revolution
by Madeline Goold
This book caught my eye in the library, I have to admit, because of the lovely cover. The delightful Regency lady is from a painting titled "The Duet" by G. G. Kilburne, a Victorian painter. A closer examination of the book led me to bring it home, and I am enjoying it very much. Ms. Goold has a pleasant, vivid style of writing. She begins her story with her purchase of square piano #10651 (built in 1807) in a dilapidated state. She recounts its restoration and then traces its history, covering as she does so, the development of pianofortes in Britain and their effect on British society. Along the way, we meet Mr. Langshaw the piano's first owner, and John Broadwood, who founded a piano-building dynasty.

This book is an admirable social history, and I heartily recommend it to anyone interested in the period. It has a lovely companion website, here

Becoming Queen Victoria: The Tragic Death of Princess Charlotte and the Unexpected Rise of Britain's Greatest Monarch
by Kate Williams
The first third or more of this book is about Princess Charlotte, her father the Prince Regent and her disreputable, often unpleasant uncles.Williams has a fiction writer's style, dramatic and rather sensational, which makes the oft-told story fresh and new. And the point of course is that if Princess Charlotte had not died, Victoria would not have become queen.

I learned much I did not know about Charlotte, the beleaguered princess, and her short life from the book. And I found my imagination stirred--what if she had lived? Victoria has always interested me as well, so it is no hardship to read all of the book, even for a Regency period devotee.

A Truth Universally Acknowledged: 33 Great Writers on Why We Read Jane Austen
by Susannah Carson
This excellent book, offering many fascinating insights into our favourite author and her work, has been reviewed with great thoroughness and intelligence elsewhere. See Jane Austen's World Blog andAustenprose Blog for two excellent reviews. I need only say that I am enjoying it immensely and recommend it to any lover of Jane Austen.

In a slight digression from the Regency, I am also reading Claude and Camille by Stephanie Cowell. Her fictionalized retelling of the great romance of Claude Monet's life is very enjoyable. The great Impressionist painters come alive as they move through Monet's life. Their struggles for recognition wring the heart and Monet's difficult life makes his fabulous artistic output all the more astonishing. This is an enjoyable read--best done with a book of Monet's art at one's side.

To return to the Regency, I am looking forward to reading the wonderful Tracy Chevalier's latest book Remarkable Creatures. The author of Girl with a Pearl Earring, in this book takes on the life of Mary Anning. Mary as a little girl found the first complete dinosaur skeleton on a beach near Lyme Regis and spent her life hunting fossils (1799-1847). I will be interested to read Chevalier's interpretation of the Regency world.

All of these books are available at your favourite book store in North America, and hopefully, also for those of you outside NA. I hope you are enjoying some good books this winter--I'd love to hear about them.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Regency Roses by Guest Blogger Amy Corwin

2011-01-28T08:00:00.000-08:00

Many folks ask me why I write about the Regency period inEngland, that very brief time from 1811 to 1820, not realizing what a trulyvibrant and fascinating era this was. To some degree, I backed into it as myfavorite activities, writing and gardening, cross-pollinated and brought newideas to both. It’s no coincidence that the heroine in my traditional Regencyloved roses and smuggled them from France, even in the middle of the Napoleonicwars. I love roses, too, and as my garden expands, I continue to research the Regency for my writing and Old Garden rose varieties for my garden. It’s through myresearch that I discovered the importance of the Regency period to thedevelopment of the modern Hybrid Tea rose.

While roses have been grown and propagated by man for thousands of years, most varieties of roses bloomed once in late spring, summer, or fall. Although some roses like the Quatre Saisons rose (above) bloomed in the late spring and occasionally in the fall. Most Regency ladies would have known and loved these once-blooming roses including Rosa Gallica, known as the Provence rose, the Phoenician rose, Summer Damask, and Autumn Damask. When these roses bloomed, a single bush would be enough to scent an entire garden and the bushes would be literally covered in flowers. While they may only bloom once a season, they made up for it by producing huge numbers of roses and ladies were adept at collecting and preserving them for cosmetics and food such as candied rose petals or fragrant jellies.

Then, in 1790, the first China roses were brought to England from the Orient. Why were the China roses so important? While their loose, muddled flowers were not as lush and intensely fragrant as the European varieties, they had one sought-after quality: they rebloomed all season. English plantsmen leapt at the idea of producing a full, fragrant rose like the Damask that bloomed spring, summer and fall the way the China roses did.

Crossing the China roses with the European varieties was no piece of cake, though. Despite the arrival of the China roses in England in the final years of the 18^th century, it took many years of trial and error to get the varieties to cross-pollinate and reproduce. But they did eventually succeed.

When rose growers managed to cross Slater’s Crimson China with the Summer Damask, they created a new group of luscious roses known as Portland roses. The first variety of Portland rose appeared in 1800. The Portland is known to have been in the famous Dupont nursery in Paris in 1809. Dupont obtained it from England and named it after the Duchess of Portland who may have found it in Italy early in the century. The Portland was a rich red color and if trimmed could be induced to bloom twice a year. Truly a valuable rose!

Sadly, there were never a lot of Portland rose varieties, but they were a lovely and important rose during the Regency.

After the Portland, Parson’s Pink China was crossed with the Autumn Damask to produce the Bourbon rose varieties, starting with Rose Edward in 1817 and followed by Rosier de I’le Bourbon. Rosa Gallica was crossed with Hume’s Blush Tea-scented China in 1815 to produce the first Hybrid China rose. The Bourbon and Hybrid China roses bloomed more than once a season and were “cutting edge” for the period. Then Hume’s Blush Tea-scented China was crossed again with Bourbon roses and the Hybrid Chinas crossed with Portlands and these varieties eventually led to the pink Tea roses and Hybrid Perpetuals. The first Hybrid Perpeutal, Rose du Roi, was raised by Souchet in 1816 from the original Portland Rose. These varieties were the darlings of British Society until late in the 19^th century when the Hybrid Teas took their place.

And they’re still the darlings of my garden. I have several Hybrid Perpetuals, and they are a truly gorgeous, light pink rose with a heavenly fragrance. The bushes are incredibly healthy and bloom all season long. I could not ask for a better-behaved rose, but I most happily digress.

Sissinghurst Castle (above)

When the Rosa Gallica variety was crossed with Hume’s Blush Tea-scented China in 1815, it produced the first Hybrid China rose. Unfortunately for ladies who liked yellow roses, they still did not have their heart’s desire, yellow roses. The only yellow roses that would grow in English gardens at the time, Rosa Foetida, smelled of rotting meat, but in 1900 the propagation of Soleil d’Or filled that void.

So from these historic varieties, it was only a hop, skip and jump of about forty years before the first Hybrid Tea, La France, was created in 1867. The Hybrid Tea is the variety of rose best known today from florist’s shops and formal gardens. However, interestingly enough, recent rose hybridizers like David Austin have been working to turn back the clock and grown roses that look like the many-petaled varieties grown during the Regency while retaining the reblooming qualities of our familiar Hybrid Teas. These English, or shrub, roses are every bit as fragrant, lush, and healthy as the original European varieties so many Regency ladies enjoyed in their gardens.

Truly, what is old is new again, and I hope you enjoyed this brief look at the development of roses during the Regency. The heroines in my Regencies, The Necklace and The Bricklayer’s Helper grew roses or made good use of them in their cosmetics, so they would have known and loved the exciting developments in this lovely plant.

References:

The Graham Stuart Thomas Rose Book by Graham Stuart Thomas(1994)

The History of the Rose by Allen Paterson (1983)

Amy Corwin is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America and has been writing for the last ten years and managing a career as an enterprise systems administrator in the computer industry. She writes Regencies/historicals, mysteries, and paranormals. To be truthful, most of her books include a bit of murder and mayhem since she discovered that killing off at least one character is a highly effective way to make the remaining ones toe the plot line.

Amy’s books include the Regency romance, SMUGGLED ROSE; three Regency romantic mysteries, I BID ONE AMERICAN, THE BRICKLAYER’S HELPER, and THE NECKLACE; and her first paranormal, VAMPIRE PROTECTOR. Her latest release is THE BRICKLAYER'S HELPER. Appearances can be dangerously deceiving.

Visit Amy at http://www.amycorwin.com

Elegant Ornaments for a Grand Entertainment 1811

2011-01-21T08:00:00.000-08:00

I have been exploring historic cookery books again. The London Art of Cookery, 1811, by John Farley 'formerly Principal Cook at the London Tavern' which I have discussed previously, has a fascinating section towards its end.

Chapter IX is titled 'Elegant Ornaments for a Grand Entertainment'. It offers six dishes which, while they might be edible, would be--in the hands of a kitchen artiste--quite spectacular. I cannot imagine the hours required to produce these masterpieces. Their ingredients sent me to Google and I have still not tracked some of the items down.

The first dish, 'Floating Island', is still known today in a different form. InRegency times, it was prepared in "a deep glass, set on a china dish". Cream, sugar, lemon and sack were combined and 'milled' until they separated into thin cream and thick froth. The thin cream was poured into the 'glass' and on it was floated thin layers of French roll (?) alternated with layers of jelly. Finallythe froth was piled 'on the top as high as possible'.

"The rim of the dish may be ornamented with figures, fruit, or sweetmeats."

The second item was, I think, never intended to be eaten. It is a 'Chinese Temple or Obelisk' and required a set of tins in 'the form of a temple'. These were filled with a sort of pastry or 'paste'--sugar, butter, flour, water and an egg--rolled thin. The parts were baked in a slow oven and then cooled. They were joined together with a mix of strong isinglass and water 'as the forms of the tin moulds will direct.'

"If cut neatly, and the paste is rolled very thin, it will be a beautiful corner for a large table."

'Desert Island', listed next, involves building a small diorama in a deep china dish. An island is formed of 'paste' and coloured. The addition of small figures is suggested, eringo root (preserved root of the sea holly--a popular confection for years) for trees and pillars, gravel walks made of 'shot comfits'. "Roll out some paste, and cut it open like Chinese rails" reads one sentence. Chinese rails? I can't find anything about them anywhere.

The suggestion titled 'Moonshine' sounds quite charming. It requires use of a very large dish, and tin moulds in the shapes of a half-moon and several sizes of stars. The tins are placed in the dish basically as place holders and blanc-mange is poured around them to fill the dish. When the blanc-mange sets up the tins are removed, and clear calf's feet jelly fills the 'vacancies'.

"Colour the blanc-mange with cochineal and chocolate, to make it look like the sky, and the moon and stars will then shine the brighter."

'A Dish of Snow' involves boiling apples until soft and then forcing the pulp through a sieve. This pulp is mixed with egg whites and sugar, and beaten to a 'strong froth…till they are like a stiff snow'. This is heaped up in a china dish 'as high as possible'.

"Set round it green knots of paste in imitation of Chinese rails, and stick a sprig of myrtle in the middle of the dish."

The last ornament for the table is 'Artificial Fruit'. These confections are made in tin moulds with actual 'stalks of the fruit with the stones to them." A calf's foot jelly is used for the form, sweetened and coloured 'like the fruit intended to imitate'. A bloom is added by dusting on 'powder-blue'. I am not familiar with powder-blue--a chemical of some sort, perhaps? The paragraph offers a last comment:

"An ingenious person may make great improvement on these artificial fruits; but it requires great nicety and long practice to perfect them in it."

I suppose nowadays we have delicacies to equal these elegant trifles, but we have ovens with precision heating and all kinds of electric equipment with which to prepare them. To make such masterpieces without the apparatus we possess must incite admiration. In fact, the mind boggles.

As a last note, the author suggests other recipes: "the hedge-hog, the hen and chickens in jelly, the Solomon's temple, and the eggs and bacon, etc. in flummery, already given, may, with propriety, be classed among the elegant ornaments for a grand entertainment."

Next week, Regency author Amy Corwin will be here discussing Regency Roses. Join us for a guest blog that will surely drive away the January blues...

Amy Corwin is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America and has been writing for the last ten years and managing a career as an enterprise systems administrator in the computer industry. She writes Regencies/historicals, mysteries, and paranormals.

Amy’s books include the Regency romance, SMUGGLED ROSE; three Regency romantic mysteries, I BID ONE AMERICAN, THE BRICKLAYER’S HELPER, and THE NECKLACE; and her first paranormal, VAMPIRE PROTECTOR.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne