As I noted in an earlier review of Cranford, the plot of this Elizabeth Gaskell adaptation revolves around change. Episode Three, to be aired on PBS this Sunday, carries this point further. The two physicians, one of the old school and one trained with new techniques, his head filled with knowledge of the latest medical advances, take center stage as they try to save their patients from the dreaded diseases that rarely afflict civilized society today: croup, whooping cough, scarlet fever, tuberculosis, cholera, dysentery and typhoid fever. Young Dr. Harrison redeems himself time and again by applying new solutions to old problems, thereby saving patients who would not have survived their ordeal with old remedies.

In Jane Austen’s time, or the early part of the 19th century, there was a clear distinction between a doctor, surgeon, and apothecary. Doctors were gentlemen of the old school and deemed socially acceptable. They were often invited to dine with the families they treated, or spend the night as guests.

Doctors and physicians occupied the highest rung on the social ladder. Such citizens were considered gentleman because 1) their training did not include apprenticeship and 2) the profession excluded, supposedly, manual labor. Doctors were permitted to dine with the family during home visits, while other practitioners took dinner with the servants. A physician’s fee was wrapped and placed nearby, for theoretically gentleman did not accept money for their work.

Illustration of Lecture Hall from the Glasgow Looking Glass, 1825-1826

A young man embarking on a medical career would attend a prestigious school at Cambridge and Oxford. There he would study Greek and Latin, and, rather than practice on patients, he would observe medical procedures in a lecture hall. Chances were that he received his license without ever having any clinical experience at all.

Cartoonists and satirists, such as Hogarth and Rowlandson, showed little mercy towards doctors and their poor attempts at treating patients. Even the life-saving vaccine for small pox was treated with some humor and derision by James Gilray, since the innoculant came from a cow.

The Cow Pock, James Gillray, 1802

Accepted practices of the day did not include washing hands or changing soiled clothes or bandages, so that doctors often spread illnesses or caused infections. Bleeding through cutting or leeches was an accepted form of treatment:

The most common way of treating a high fever, for example, was to cut open a vein and drain blood from the patient — and not in a small way: a good doctor was expected to cut deep enough that the patient’s blood would spurt into the air with every heartbeat! To make matters worse, the most commonly prescribed “drug” of the time was the toxic element mercury, usually in the form of mercuric chloride.

Surgery was extremely painful, and anesthesia in the form of ether did not appear until 1846. Until that time, doctors relied on mandrake, alcohol, opium, and cannabis for pain relief. (Cocaine was only available in the New World.) Non drug methods of pain relief included cooling the patient or affected area, hypnosis, nerve compression, and blood letting. Because surgeons actually treated the patient by performing physical labor - a trade, so to speak - they occupied a lower rung on the social ladder.

Apothecaries, who learned their profession through apprenticeship and who were definitely considered to be in “trade”, ranked even lower on the social scale. As a group they had “seceded from the Worshipful Company of Grocers, and were incorporated as a separate city livery company in 1617, were supposed to stay in their shops and dispense the prescriptions written by the physicians.” [Apothecaries, Physicians and Surgeons, Roger Jones]

In regions where doctors were scarce, apothecaries also made house calls and treated patients, but largely they mixed drugs and dispensed them, and trained apprentices. A drug’s efficaciousness was hit or miss. By sheer accident, some effective substances were discovered: digitalis, quinine, and calamine, to name several; and a number of proven herbal remedies helped to relieve symptoms. Generally, however,

The technology of making drugs was crude at best: Tinctures, poultices, soups, and teas were made with water- or alcohol-based extracts of freshly ground or dried herbs or animal products such as bone, fat, or even pearls, and sometimes from minerals best left in the ground—mercury among the favored. The difference between a poison and a medicine was a hazy differentiation at best: In the 16th century, Paracelsus declared that the only difference between a medicine and a poison was in the dose. All medicines were toxic. It was cure or kill.

The life of a country doctor was an itinerant one. The 1999 mini-series Wives and Daughters aptly depicted a doctor’s long day, in which he rose at dawn to make his rounds and see patients, often returning exhausted past sunset on his equally weary horse.

Illustration, George du Maurier, 1913

By the end of the 19th century, the medical field had become more professional and organized. Scientific breakthroughs, which included anesthesia, rabies vaccinations, techniques for immunization, sterilization of medical equipment, and an understanding of the origins of infections and of the bacterial world, helped to move the field forward.

Find more links below about medicine during this era:

• Health and Hygiene in the 19th Century

• Click here to view an 18th Century Apothecary’s Prescription

• Anesthesia: Medicine’s Greatest Gift

• History of Anesthesia

• Student Paper on 19th Century Medicine

• From Hogarth to Rowlandson: Medicine in Art in 18th Century, Fiona Haslam, Liverpool University Press, 1996, ISBN:0853236402

• From Apothecaries to Florence Nightingale: A Medical Museums Trail

• Rowlandson, The Third Tour of Dr. Syntax

• Dr. Syntax Prints

• Apothecary items

• English surgical sets

• Analgesics and Painkillers

Images: Photo stills from Cranford and Sense and Sensibility (bleeding Marianne Dashwood); James Gillray cartoons

The folks at PBS Masterpiece are giving away 20 Cranford novels by Elizabeth Gaskell. For an opportunity to win one of these books, all you need to do is click here and sign up for a free Masterpiece e-newsletter.

In addition, the site is offering a behind the scenes video, as well as streaming videos of Parts One and Two. After Sunday you can view all of Cranford online until May 23rd.

Part 3 of Cranford will be shown this Sunday on your local PBS station at 9 pm.

• For my review of Cranford, Part One, click here.

• View all of Jane Austen Today’s posts on Cranford here.

The Gardens of Jane Austen’s England are a series of photos taken on a tour group in 2007. Click on the site to find images of Jane Austen’s houses and locations of her film adaptations.

The Royal Horticultural Society writes about the Royal pavilion’s restored Regency gardens, and defines the Regency garden style in this short article.

Beautiful black and white photographs of the architectural details of Stoneleigh Abbey in Warwickshire are featured in Art and Architecture. Stoneleigh Abbey was the county seat of Cassandra Austen’s (nee Leigh’s) family. (Click on family tree to see the connection.)

Famed landscape architect Humphry Repton worked on the gardens at Stoneleigh Abbey. These images show the mansion and its surroundings before and after Repton’s changes, in which the house becomes integral to a natural looking landscape.
Jane Austen’s Life and Works in Google Earth is an amazingly detailed site that lists every location Jane visited, lived in, or mentioned in her novels. Download Google earth, and see images of these sites as taken from above. Find a direct link to the site here.

Mansion Illustrations from: Humphry Repton at Stoneleigh Abbey, Warwickshire, by Edward Malins, Garden History, Vol. 5, No. 1 (Spring, 1977), pp. 21-29, Published by: The Garden History Society.

Mother and child illustration: Maternal love, from: Kate Greenaway. Language of flowers. London: G. Routledge and Sons, [1884]

Until the mid-19th century, light was a precious commodity, and the cost of lighting a dark room well and to one’s satisfaction was an extravagance that few could afford. Recent film adaptations of Cranford and Sense and Sensibility point out precisely how light (or the need for it) affected people’s day and night routines. Near the start of Cranford, Mary Smith and the two Jenkyns sisters are shown huddled near the light of a single candle. To maximize their ability to read or do needlework in the evening, the three women sit near the fireplace in order to see better. Even so, there is barely enough light to work, and one can imagine how hot it must have been in such an enclosed environment on warm nights. This scene was not necessarily reserved for the poor or those who lived on a strict budget. In “Artificial Lighting Prior to 1800 and Its Social Effects”, W.T. O’Dea mentions the observations George Crabbe’s son made of a yeoman’s family:

The extent to which even the better class households were deprived of adequate illumination can be appreciated from description, such as one in the life of the Rev. George Crabbe. His son, the biographer, speaks of a visit to the house of his great-uncle at Parham in Suffolk in 1791. Although the great-uncle was of yeoman stock he enjoyed the not inconsiderable income of about eight hundred pounds per annum. On most occasions “The family and their visitors lived entirely in the old-fashioned kitchen along with the servants. My great-uncle occupied an armchair, or in attacks of gout, a couch on one side of a large open chimney. Mrs. Fovell sat at a small table, on which, in the evening, stood one small candle, in an iron candlestick, plying her needle by the feeble glimmer surrounded by her maids, all busy at the same employment…”

Appearances must be kept, as Mrs. Gaskell so aptly describes in her popular tale. When Miss Matty notices that one candle has become shorter than the other, she lights the taller one and snuffs out the short one. In this way, both ends are kept at around the same length. As soon as company arrives, both candles are lit, prompting Miss Pole to exclaim how bright it is as she enters.

Dr. Harrison’s first evening in Cranford is not only a solitary one, but he sits in virtual darkness. His maid of all work stops by holding a single candle, which illuminates her face and little else, for the rest of the room remains in pitch darkness. During the long days of summer, most working people went to bed at sunset and rose by day light. The poor also burned rushlights, which were much less expensive than a candle and gave off a good clear light. Gilbert White wrote in 1789 in The Natural History of Selborne that while a single candle cost a halfpenny and burned for only two hours, eleven rushlights that cost only a farthing would burn for around half an hour each. There was also the danger of fire. One had to be careful to work so close to an open flame with delicate cloths or paper, and take care not to burn the edges of one’s cap as one bent near the light.

The situation was different for the wealthy as shown in this image of the Dashwoods eating at Norland in Sense and Sensibility 2007. This extravagant use of candles for one family for one evening meal (probably exaggerated in the film) represents one month’s supply of lighting for a less economically secure family. The rich could also afford mirrors, which reflected light back into the rooms, and it was the custom to place candelabras near reflective surfaces for just that effect. The diningroom scene points out how far Mrs. Dashwood fell down the economic ladder when she faced having to live on an income of 500 pounds per year. Sense and Sensibility 1996 stays faithful to the family’s new economic situation. The ladies are shown sitting by a window sewing or doing their work, or outside if the weather permitted.

Windows were designed to let in maximum light, some of them reaching from floor to ceiling, or stretching the entire length of the room. Even when the windows were large, as was the case in Cleveland, the Palmers’ estate, the interiors would become quite dark on a rainy or overcast day. Furniture placement was also crucial, and groupings arranged in front of fireplaces or windows took maximum advantage of the light, whatever its source.

The choice for a room and its function depended on location and orientation. The morning room, I imagine, either faced east or south to take advantage of the earliest rays of the sun, but the best, most steady light, as every painter knows, comes from windows that face north. Lady Catherine de Bourgh, upon entering Longbourn observed to Mrs. Bennet: “This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in summer; the windows are full west.” Lady Catherine makes a good point. Although such a room would take advantage of the waning sun, it would also become unbearably hot on a sunny summer’s day.

Working in poor light adversely affected eyesight. Mrs.Gaskell observed in the Life of Charlotte Bronte that by 1850 Charlotte’s weak eyesight “rendered her incapable of following any occupation but knitting by candle-light.” W. T. O’ Dea conjectured that “the absence of effective, inexpensive artificial illuminants after the day’s work was done must have had a profound influence not only on the quality of arts, crafts and handiwork but also on the persistence of illiteracy among the majority even after the introduction of printing.”

I shall end this post with a quote from Northanger Abbey, where Catherine Morland is exploring her guest chambers by the light of a single candle. She has just found a note and her imagination is working over time, but alas she will have to wait until morning to read its contents:

The dimness of the light her candle emitted made her turn to it with alarm; but there was no danger of its sudden extinction; it had yet some hours to burn; and that she might not have any greater difficulty in distinguishing the writing than what its ancient date might occasion, she hastily snuffed it. Alas! It was snuffed and extinguished in one. A lamp could not have expired with more awful effect. Catherine, for a few moments, was motionless with horror. It was done completely; not a remnant of light in the wick could give hope to the rekindling breath. Darkness impenetrable and immovable filled the room.

Find out more on the topic of lighting in my two other posts:

• Traveling by Night
• Lighting the Darkness

Source: “Artificial Lighting Prior to 1800 and Its Social Effects”, W.T. Odea, Folklore, Vol 62, No 2, (June, 1951), pp 312-324.

If you know about Librivox and haven’t returned because you were unhappy with the recordings, give the site a second try. You will be pleasantly surprised by the quality of new recordings of several beloved novels. The audio recordings are free, and the site lists thousands of classics that are now in the public domain, including Jane Austen’s novels.

It seems that people with good voices and who know how to read and take on the right inflection for each character have been busy rerecording certain books. I am thinking specifically of Pride and Prejudice, Version 3, read by Karen Savage, and Northanger Abbey, Version 2, and Persuasion, Version 2, both read by Elizabeth Klett. Elizabeth is an American, but her ability to take on a British accent and do it well (to my ears) is uncanny. More versions are in the works for some of the other novels, including a third version of Persuasion by someone whose voice sounds quite lovely. Notably, no plans are afoot to rerecord Mansfield Park, which had so many different readers that I became quite dizzy keeping track of them all.

You can listen to these free audio files on your computer or MP3 players. I am so hooked on listening to Jane Austen’s novels while I am driving that I own two nanno Ipods - one for Jane’s works alone. Today I shall drive to my parents’ place for Mother’s Day. I am looking forward to the experience, as I am halfway through Northanger Abbey, and then plan on switching to Version 2 of Persuasion. Life is good.

Click here to view a listing of all Librivox’s recordings of Jane Austen’s novels.

“But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them.”

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen has always had its admirers. I must admit, I am liking the novel more and more. Seen across the ether, are some interesting sites and posts:

• Mansfield Park by Chris Dornan is a brand new blog. You might also check out his other blog, Peace and Wisdom, in which he writes about Jane’s novels, politics, and Buddhism. Recently his thoughts have turned mostly to Jane.

• Arti at Ripple Effects writes about Fanny Price in Mansfield Park: The Contrarian, and comes away greatly admiring the heroine.

• A Reading of Mansfield Park is a compilation of Ellen Moody’s comments about the novel on two listservs and certainly worth a visit.

• Pemberley Image Gallery offers two graphics of Mansfield Park for its discussion board. One is rather sedate; the other, which sits on page two, is rather out there. Both images represent how people feel about this novel - either you love it or hate it.

• I’m a little late reading this review of Mansfield Park 2007 on Flick Filosopher. In it the critic likens Fanny Price to a Mary Sue, and she seems to assume that the the film’s portrayal of Fanny is accurate.

With the love of nature and classical statuary, the young male body became prized. British tailoring enabled better fit and thus could reveal the new athletic ideal. The lower body was encased in extremely fitted coverings that left little to the imagination.

The above quote comes from the Kent State University Museum website, which features the following links to an exhibition entitled “Of Men and Their Elegance”: 1780’s - 1830’s: Sir, You Have Forgot Your Horse! and 1840’s to 1880’s: From Undress to Full Dress. To completely experience this site, click on the headings under the images, and you will be taken to an explanatory page.

The Dandy, Regency Life. Find a short history and description of dandies on this informative site.

Brassiere Pattern, circa 1800: Click on the photos for details. It comes from this amazing living history site. Click on Civilian Clothing, and go to women’s clothing

Comment about dyeing cloth . Unfortunately, no citations were quoted in this informative comment, written by syntenin_laulu. However, I found a source related to the topic, which includes the history of dyeing cloth: How to Dye Cloth, by Sophronia Gallop

There wasn’t really much specific gender distinction in colour (certainly not for small children). Ladies’ riding habits particularly (worn not only for riding, but for every kind of outdoor activity, travel and informal winter wear) occupied pretty much the identical colour range to men’s coats. There was far more of an age distinction – the older you got, the darker and more subdued were the colours you wore.

Strong and bright shades of all colours were expensive and therefore desirable, either because the dyestuff itself was costly (e.g. the cochineal used to make true scarlet) or because it took repeated dyeings to make the colour take well (e.g. a really good navy blue), or because they could only be got by skilled over-dyeing with more than one colour (e.g. bright green) . Good black was expensive and stylish; cheap black dye did – and still does – quickly fade to grey, or go patchy or rusty.

Printed fabrics in more than one colour had been expensive until the end of the 18th century as they had to be hand-blocked. With the rapid development of roller-printing, they now came within the price-range even of the working classes. Printed fabrics were still fashionable, and the latest and nicest prints still much sought after; but the mere fact of wearing printed fabric no longer signalled luxury.

In women’s fashion, the “must-have” colour changed from season to season, and in modish circles a colour such as poppy red or celestial blue might be a sign of (relative) poverty simply because it was obviously “last year’s colour”.

One wrinkle you might use is re-dyeing. Very few outer clothes were launderable, partly because of the non-fastness of the dyes of the period but also because the different fabrics used for the outer layer and the lining would shrink differentially. Coats, habits and gowns could be brushed, aired, sponged, and treated with things like fuller’s earth and hot sand to draw out grease-marks; but sooner or later your good garment would acquire a conspicuous stain, or just become incurably grubby-looking. The solution was to send it to the dyer (many launderers were also dyers) and have it re-dyed a stronger colour. That would give your coat or gown a new lease of life, but I bet a sharp-eyed person could always tell (“That redingote Miss Bates is wearing isn’t new, it’s her old one dyed”).

Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter Six

Exercise, cleanliness, and good skin care were as important in the 19th century as today. Back then a proper lady would not leave the house without covering her head with a bonnet, protecting her hands with gloves, and shading her skin with a parasol. Pale white skin had been highly prized for centuries, for it set a lady of quality apart from the working classes. Some women used dangerous cosmetics made of lead oxide to whiten their skin. These lotions, when used repeatedly, could lead to death or paralysis. It made more sense to follow a natural and safer regimen for preserving one’s looks:

“When the freshness of virgin youth vanishes; when Delia passes her teens, and fastly approaches her thirtieth year, she may then consider herself in the noon of the day, but the sun which shines so brightly on her beauties, declines while he displays them, and a few short years, and the jocund step, the airy habit, the sportive manner, all must pass away with the flight of Time. Before this happens, it would be well for her to remember that is is wise er to throw a shadow over her yet unimpaired charms, than to hold them in the light till they are seen to decay. (The Mirror of Graces, A Lady of Distinction, 1811, p 30)

Such a shadow would be provided by a parasol, a canopy over a carriage, or an awning when eating out of doors. Exercise, while considered healthy, would have been performed in moderation. Daily walks were encouraged, but too vigorous an exertion was not deemed wise. A lady should not exercise to the point of sweating or turning her face red, as Elizabeth Bennet did when she walked three miles to Netherfield to be with her sick sister. In this regard, a Lady of Distinction noted:

The preservation of an agreeable complexion (which always presupposes health,) is not the most insignificant of exterior charms….The frequent and sudden changes from heat to cold, by abruptly exciting or repressing the regular secretions of the skin, roughen its texture, injure its hue, and often deform it with unseemly, though transitory, eruptions. All this is increased by the habit ladies have of exposing themselves unveiled, and frequently without bonnets, in the open air. The head and face have no defense against the attacks of the surrounding atmosphere, and the effects are obvious. (The Mirror of Graces, P 42)

Almost a century later, the Household Companion: The Home Book Of Etiquette, written by Alice A. Johnson, Mrs. Janet McKenzie Hill, and Dr. Henry HartShorne extolled a similar beauty regimen. In addition to protecting the skin from the sun and encouraging mild forms of exercise, the book also recommended adequate sleep. The authors quoted a charming old lady, who …

… revealed the secret of her fair and rosy complexion to a group of young women as follows : ” Late hours,” said she, ” and oversleeping ruin the complexion. Go to bed early, arise early, and you will grow old slowly, and retain your good looks to an advanced age. If, however, your position forces you into society and you are obliged to be up late at night, sleep an hour every afternoon. Before going to bed take a hot bath and remain in the water only a few moments. Then drink a cup of bouillon, and a small glass of Malaga wine. Sleep will soon follow, and last until the natural time of awakening, which is about ten o’clock in the morning under these circumstances. Take a cold plunge or sponge bath, a light breakfast of café au lait, and bread without any butter.” She continued: “Out-of-door exercise is an absolute necessity, but must not be carried to excess. A daily walk is excellent, and it is scarcely necessary to say that whole days of lawn tennis, croquet, etc., are not favorable to the complexion.”

One imagines that this elderly lady had heard these beauty tips from female friends and relatives who had lived during the early 19th century. Milky white skin remained a hallmark of beauty until the 1920s when Coco Chanel created a stir with the tan she acquired on the Duke of Westminster’s yacht.

• Make Your Own Regency Bonnet
• Regency Period Bonnet
• Looking Your Best in 1811
• Cathy Decker’s Regency Fashions: 1813 Walking Dress: 1st image

• 2nd image: picnic on Boxhill, Emma 1996

I love old-fashioned, sentimental movies filled with likable characters and well told stories. I like films that take me out of time and place and land me smack dab in another world. I adore ensemble casts made up of famous and not so famous British actors. Ergo, I am wild about Cranford, which will air at 9 pm tonight on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic

This early Victorian tale, based on the writings of Elizabeth Gaskell, is about change and resisting change. Cranford is a sleepy town that time passed by until the coming of the railroad. It is ruled by women - Amazons, as Elizabeth Gaskell described them.

Eileen Atkins as Miss Deborah Jenkyns and Francesca Annis as Lady Ludlow are at the pinnacle of Cranford society: the former rules over poor widows and spinsters, and the latter commands everyone’s respect as the lady of the manor. These two powerful women are suspicious of anything that upsets their well-ordered lives. Miss Jenkyns cannot abide Charles Dickens’s modern stories, or suck juice from an orange in front of others, since to her the very thought of the word ’suck’ is abhorrent. News that a railroad is coming to ruin her perfect town is so distressful that it brings on an apoplectic fit.

Lady Ludlow firmly believes that people should remain in their station and behave accordingly. She will not hire servants who can read or write, declaring that too much education upsets the natural order of things and would foment a revolution, as it did in France. This subplot sets up the film’s dramatic ending.

Simon Woods as Dr. Harris, represents new ideas and innovation. A frisson goes through the community when he elects to save Jem Hearne’s injured arm rather than amputate it. After the young doctor’s successful but revolutionary treatment of setting the bone and stitching the wound, his partner Dr. Morgan (John Bowe) declares testily, “Cranford has been disturbed by you.” The old doctor, thinking to relieve his work load and to turn his practice over to a younger physician once he retires, is completely taken aback by his assistant’s newfangled ways. “Cranford is a town that knows itself, he admonishes the doctor. “It is a town at peace.”

Cranford is also a town that takes care of its own. The staid ladies of Cranford donate their expensive candles to allow the doctor to practice his modern surgical techniques on the young carpenter before it is too late. They are charmed by this single man, a rare commodity in a town filled with spinsters. Many of the plot’s developments and misunderstandings that ensue are caused by their wishful thinking.

The people of Cranford are adept at hoarding scarce goods, such as candles and coal for fire. The lace incident, which, next to the cow incident, is one of my favorite scenes in the film, is all about recycling. Hand made foreign lace was a precious commodity, especially for a widow living on a meager income of 100 pounds. Any article of clothing that still had value was laundered, mended, or reworked rather than thrown out. When the cat swallowed the lace, along with the buttermilk that was bleaching it, it led to a series of events that had me choking with laughter. The ladies’ expressions as they watched a cathartic mixture being forced down the poor cat’s throat and listened to the ignominious expulsion of milk and lace into a boot were priceless.

Careful attention to detail was paid in this production, from costumes, such as the frayed bonnet of the impoverished widow (played by Julia McKenzie with Imelda Staunton at left), to the setting (the British Heritage village of Laycock), to props (two footmen huffing and puffing as they run while carrying their mistress in a sedan chair), to the plaintive wails of the cat as it expels the sadly abused lace.

As a drama, Cranford has it all: young romance (Kimberley Nixon as Julia Hutton at right), old romance, sweet comedy, dreadful calamity, deep sorrow and profound happiness. The town is populated with individuals who do what is right for themselves, their families, and their fellow man, even if it means breaking the law. I’ve read the book and was struck by how well Heidi Thomas’s script holds up against Mrs. Gaskell’s novel, which was actually a series of vignettes written for Household Words, a magazine published by Charles Dickens. Oh, the story is melodramatic and there are a few too many coincidences to be believed, but the characters are so well defined and likable that one forgives the script’s treacly overtones and neatly tied up ending.

Jane Austen’s novels were never so sugary sweet, but this film production offers us an interesting glimpse of a world that Cassandra Austen, Jane’s beloved sister, must have known before she died. Changes caused by the industrial revolution had swept England, and new inventions in manufacturing, machines, science, and travel caused wholesale changes in how people lived and worked. Jane Austen only caught a glimpse of what was to come, but Cassandra lived long enough to see macademized roads replace dirt roads, gas lights put up on public streets, and steam engines overtake stage coaches as public transportation. Other aspects of society remained the same, such as the plight of widows and spinsters whose income was inadequate, and a high mortality rate among children.

Post Script: Winning her first BAFTA award at the age of 73, Eileen Atkins edged Judi Dench for best actress for her performance as Miss Jenkyns. Eileen wasn’t sure about the role at first, saying, “I didn’t think it was too good a part - I thought she was the only one who wasn’t funny.”

More about Cranford:

• Listen to a podcast about the making of Cranford with Sue Birtwhistle, one of the film’s creators.

• Watch a BBC breakfast interview with Simon Woods, who played Dr. Harrison

• Watch a BBC breakfast interview with Imelda Staunton, who played Miss Pole

• Penny for Your Dreams features a series of great Cranford reviews. Here is the link to Episode One if you don’t mind spoilers, along with the other four posts.

I would also like to direct you to Laurel Ann’s Cranford review on Austenprose, and Kay Daycus’s take on this movie adaptation. Mrs. Elton offers a unique perspective about this first episode on Jane Austen Today. Learn more about Elizabeth Gaskell in Jane Austen in Vermont. See you next week for the second installment!

Inquiring readers, Ellen Moody, has been writing a series of interesting posts about Jane Austen movie adaptations, comparing several movies of the same novel.

Click here to read Sense and Sensibilities Alter the Landscape of Austen Films.

Update: Every once in a while, I plan to revisit old posts to update links and include additional information, as in this instance. My original post about John Nash (1752-1835) was woefully inadequate.

John Nash’s buildings exemplified the neoclassical style of early 19th Century Architecture. His sweeping changes transformed London, from the graceful curve of Regent Street to the majestic terraces and vistas in Regent’s Park, to the clearing of the area which was to become Trafalgar Suare. John Nash’s transformations reflected the Prince Regent’s grand plan for London. J.B. Priestly wrote in The Prince of Pleasure:

Over and over above [the Prince's] collections and rebuilding of royal houses, there was his grand plan, designed and carried out by John Nash, of demolishing a clutter of little streets and miserable buildings to drive a broad way, as straight as possible, between Carlton House and the newly created Regent’s Park, itself one of the most charming city parks in the world. Some of Nash’s work has gone, notably Regent Street as he left it, but the broad thoroughfares and his delightful terraces are still with us. (The Prince of Pleasure, p 290)

View some of his edifices below:

1. Regent’s Park
2. Regent Street
3. Buckingham Palace
4. Brighton Palace .

More About John Nash:

• Biography
• John Nash (includes links to some of his work)
  
• Gardens designed by John Nash
• View images of his beautiful terraces here
• 3 London Buildings by John Nash: Marble Arch, Theatre Royal, All Souls Church
  
• Trafalgar Square: Live web cam

View a Powerpoint Presentation here: Modern Architecture: Nash and the Regency

In Miss Austen Regrets, Olivia Williams as Jane Austen was shown sipping wine in a number of scenes. This scenario was not unrealistic. Jane wrote to Cassandra about making Spruce Beer, and the topic of wine appeared in a number of her letters:

I want to hear of your gathering strawberries; we have had them three times here. I suppose you have been obliged to have in some white wine, and must visit the store closet a little oftener than when you were quite by yourselves.”

“The orange wine will want our care soon. But in the meantime, for elegance and ease and luxury, the Hattons and Milles’ dine here to-day, and I shall eat ice and drink French wine, and be above vulgar economy.”

“I believe I drank too much wine last night at Hurstbourne; I know not how else to account for the shaking of my hand to-day. You will kindly make allowance therefore for any indistinctness of writing, by attributing it to this venial error.”

Alcoholic consumption was quite common in the days of yore. Water obtained from a public source was unsanitary if not lethal, and hundreds of millions of people died over the ages in cholera and typhoid epidemics, diseases caused by contaminated water. Unless one happened to live near an unpolluted water source, it was wise to refrain from drinking fresh water altogether. In towns and cities, garbage collection was unknown or not practiced. People would toss refuse from doorways and windows, and tradesmen, such as butchers and fishmongers, would throw their wastes and rotting offal into the street, assuming that roaming animals would eat the remnants. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Waste and fecal matter still found their way into public streams, rivers, and water supplies. Worse, many of the roaming animals died, their carcasses polluting the very streets they were supposed to sanitize.

Observant individuals noticed that people who drank untreated water – generally the poor - lived shorter lives than people who drank safer forms of liquids. Those who could afford it drank ale, beer, wine, or a fermented drink, since the fermentation process killed almost all bacteria. Until the 16th century, the most common choice of drink was ale. By the end of the century, beer had replaced ale in popularity. Housewives and cooks gathered their own recipes for making beer, wine, cordials, possets, punch, spirit waters, and other distilled spirits, although these drinks could also be bought commercially. Fermented beverages were stored in containers similar to those in the photo above. Hops were added to beer to make the beverage last longer in storage. Interestingly, hops acted as antibacterial agents, making the beverage safe. In addition, real ale, or un-pasteurized beer, rich in nutrients, vitamin Bs, and minerals, was as nutritious as food.

In Britain people drank ale at breakfast, lunch and dinner. However, these beers and wines were watered down substantially and were much weaker than their counterparts today. Small beer, a term used to describe a weaker second beer, averaged an alcoholic content of only 0.8%. This concoction was obtained after the first brewing had used up almost all the alcohol from the grain. The product from the second brewing was 99.2% water and tasted nothing like our beer today. Small beer was consumed by people of all ages and strata in society, even children. Recipes for stronger drinks existed but they were too expensive for ordinary people, taking twice as much grain to produce.

For medicinal purposes, weak beers were less effective in fighting off disease, (A Brief History of Drinks). People were quite aware of the benefits of a strong alcoholic drink, as the verse (below) from a tombstone in 1764 attests. The 26-year-old deceased had drunk cold small beer before he died. The verse’s implication is clear: had the poor fellow imbibed regular beer, its alcoholic content might have prevented his deadly and “violent fever. So, when you’re hot, or feverish, drink strong beer or none at all!

“In Memory of Thomas Thetcher a Grenadier in the North Reg. of Hants Militia,

who died of a violent Fever contracted by drinking Small Beer when hot the 12th of May 1764.

Aged 26 Years…

Here sleeps in peace a Hampshire Grenadier,

Who caught his death by drinking cold small Beer,

Soldiers be wise from his untimely fall

And when ye’re hot drink Strong or none at all.”

Click here to see the picture of the Hampshire Grenadier tombstone

All through the 19th century, alcoholic consumption among all ages and social strata was not only widespread, it was generally accepted and acknowledged. In Great Expectations, Estella gives ten-year-old Pip bread, meat, cheese, and beer on his first visit to Miss Havisham’s. Charlotte Bronte wrote about Belgian schoolgirls being given weissbier and sweet wine as a treat.

During the 17th century, enterprising traders brought back spices, foods and drinks from exotic locations, resulting in a wider choice of safe beverages for consumption. Coffee, tea, and chocolate began to compete with ale, wine, and beer as the drinks of choice. Boiled water poured over precious tea leaves provided a safe albeit expensive drink alternative. “The antiseptic properties of tannin, the active ingredient in tea and of hops in beer - plus the fact both are made with boiled water - allowed urban communities to flourish at close quarters without succumbing to waterborne diseases such as dysentery.” (Did Tea and Beer Make Britain Great?)

Tea became fashionable after 1662 when King Charles II’s Portugese bride, Catherine, brought a cask of it along with her dowry. In those days the beverage was thought to possess medicinal qualities, and Thomas Garraway introduced tea in his London coffee house in 1657 with this advertisement:: “This excellent beverage, recommended by all Chinese doctors, and which the Chinese call ‘Tcha’, other nations ‘Tay’ or ‘Tee’, is on sale at Sultaness Mead close to the Royal Exchange in London.” (Le Palais des The)

Only the rich could afford tea until larger amounts began to be imported, resulting in lowered prices. Several centuries later, Mrs. Beeton wrote in her Book of Household Management:

The beverage called tea has now become almost a necessary of life. Previous to the middle of the 17th century it was not used in England, and it was wholly unknown to the Greeks and Romans. Pepys says, in his Diary,—“September 25th, 1661.—I sent for a cup of tea (a China drink), of which I had never drunk before.” Two years later it was so rare a commodity in England, that the English East–India Company bought 2 lbs. 2 oz. of it, as a present for his majesty. In 1666 it was sold in London for sixty shillings a pound. From that date the consumption has gone on increasing from 5,000 lbs. to 50,000,000 lbs.

At the same time that tea gained popularity with the masses, coffee also became an increasingly common and popular drink. Men would congregate in coffee houses, drinking the hot bitter brew, discussing politics or trade, or reading newspapers. One reasons for coffee’s popularity was that caffeine improved concentration and enhanced wakefulness, and did not dull the senses as alcohol did. At this time, chocolate, another popular drink, was only drunk not eaten. Carbonated water, consisting of water impregnated with carbonic acid gas and invented by Joseph Priestley, made its first appearance in 1772.

A breakthrough in water hygiene occured in the summer of 1854 when Dr. John Snow made a connection between a deadly outbreak of cholera in his London neighborhood and public drinking water. Dr. Snow traced the epidemic to a contaminated pump on Broad Street. It did not surprise him that around 70 workers in a brewery nearby remained healthy due to their daily allotment of free beer. By the end of the 19th century, piped-in treated water made drinking from public pumps and fountains safe for the first time in England.

Small Beer Recipe

Take a large Sifter full of Bran

Hops to your Taste — Boil these

3 hours. Then strain out 30 Gall.

into a Cooler put in 3 Gallons

Molasses while the Beer is

scalding hot or rather drain the

molasses into the Cooler. Strain

the Beer on it while boiling hot

let this stand til it is little more

than Blood warm. Then put in

a quart of Yeast if the weather is

very cold cover it over with a Blanket.

Let it work in the Cooler 24 hours

then put it into the Cask. leave

the Bung open til it is almost done

working — Bottle it that day Week

it was Brewed.

George Washington. “To Make Small Beer.”

From his 1757 notebook.

Read my other posts on this topic:

• A Splash of Madeira and Some Cordial Water: Popular Drinks During the Regency Era

• Tea in the Regency Era

Other links:

• Spruce Beer Recipe: Jane Austen Centre

• Europe Discovers Tea

• The Art of Drinking

Image of stoneware bottles and vessels, including a beer bottle and gin bottle.