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Posts Tagged ‘Jane Austen’s World’

William Henry Pyne (1769 – 1843)

Many of the illustrations of London and the working class that we see of the regency era can be atttibuted to the artist and writer, William Henry Pyne. W.H. Pyne, the son of a leather seller and weaver, chronicled the working class in The Costumes of Great Britain. In his heyday he created a series of books for the publisher Rudolph Ackermann. Unfortunately, like James Gillray, Mr. Pyne’s illustrations ceased to be popular towards the end of his life, and he died in poverty.

    To learn more about W.H. Pyne, click on these links:

  • The World in Miniature: England, Scotland, and Ireland, edited by W.H. Pyne, containing a description of the character, manners, customs, dress, diversions, and other peculiarities of the inhabitants of Great Britain. In Four Volumes; illustrated with eighty-four coloured engravings, Volume 1, London, 1827, Printed for R. Ackermann, Repository of Arts, Strand.

Illustrations by Pyne: Blue Coat Boy, and Mail Coach from the Microcosm of London. Illustration of Bill Sticker from the World in Miniature.

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Jane Austen Sequels, written by Jane Odiwe, has recently been featuring a series of posts on Regency Brighton, including Brighton Encampments, Donkey Riding and Sea Bathing in Brighton, Stopping for Refreshment (on a coach from London to Brighton), and Brighton Entertainments. Jane also paints lovely watercolors and sells her images, cards, and books, such as her recently published Lydia Bennet’s Journal, on Austen Effusions. Jane has begun a third blog, which will discuss all things Austen and the Regency world. I become quite dizzy when I think of all her activities!

Image of Refreshments at a Coaching Inn from Jane Austen Sequels

Michelle Ann Young from Regency Ramble has just completed a series of posts on Bath. Michelle Ann frequently describes the flora and fauna of the era, and fashions of the season. She is also promoting her most recent novel, No Regrets.

Visit Jane Austen Addict.com to read Laurie Viera Rigler’s posts about PBS Masterpiece Classic’s The Complete Jane Austen series. Laurie, author of The Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict, described a JASNA ball she attended in 2004. This photo shows her with her own Mr. Darcy, and looking beautiful in her red regency gown. Such fun! Also, don’t miss her posts about Mansfield Park and Pride and Prejudice. In addition, she oversees a forum on her website, and is writing a sequel to her best-selling novel. My, my, Laurie, you have been busy!

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Genealogy and census records record the life in 19th century England in remarkable detail. Take Appleby, for example, a village in Leicestershire which has been occupied since the iron age. The 1841 census provides a complete record of how the inhabitants of this small village made their living at that precise time, including farmers, tradesmen, drapers and dressmakers, people in domestic service, and professional people. Descriptions for each group follow a similar pattern to this one for skilled workers:

There was always a demand for skilled workers in the agricultural world and this is reflected in the large number of craftsmen supporting the farming community.Many were concerned with horses, the main means of providing power and transport.The particular men performing jobs which required skills relating to the agricultural world were:

  • 5 blacksmiths – shoeing horses and making wrought iron products for farm and home
  • 2 farriers – shoeing smiths also acting as horse doctors
  • 1 harness maker
  • 2 wheelwrights – making carts, wheels with their iron tyres (often fitted by the blacksmith)
  • 2 gamekeepers – looking after the squire’s game
  • 1 gardener employed in the new hall grounds
Parish of Gorleston

An inventory of goods during the 18th century recorded the possessions of established and prosperous middling farmers in such precise detail as: In ye dairy & kittchin, potts, kettles, one Copper, Barrills & tubes, In ye Chamber over ye house, one bed & Beding, Curtaines, chairs & table, In ye Chamber over ye dairy, 2 beds & beding, 2 bolsters & linnin, etc. I would imagine that history students and authors of history and historical romances would find such authentic descriptions invaluable in their research.

The extract for Appleby in 1835 states that “letters arrive every morning at half-past ten, and are despatched every afternoon at three”, and that James Hatton was the Post Master. These details make history come alive again. Amazingly, records on almost every parish in England still exist. I’ve listed a few more below:

 

Raunheim, Sleeping Kitchen Maid, 1850, Wikimedia Commons
St. Michael’s Church, Appleby (Upper image)


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Illustration from Modes et Manieres Du Jour, 1798 – 1808

I have changed my mind, & changed the trimmings on my Cap this morning, they are now much as you suggested, – I felt as if I should not prosper if I strayed from your directions, & I think it makes me look more like Lady Conyngham now than it did before, which is all that one lives for now. Jane Austen to Cassandra, December 18-19, 1798

Women during the Regency period wore headdresses outdoors as a matter of course. When a woman married, or if she was a spinster in her late twenties, she would also take to wearing a cap indoors. This image from Wikipedia shows Mme. Seriziat wearing a bergere, or shepherdess-style straw bonnet over a cap, as was the custom back then. When her child was a baby, he might have worn a simple bonnet, as infants still do today.

Aside from sheltering delicate skin from the sun or hair from the elements, or protecting one’s head in drafty rooms, headdresses took on many other functions. They denoted class and economic status, as well as fashion sense and one’s marital state. Hats were also worn as a sign of respect, inside a church, for instance, and this custom remained widely popular until well into the 20th-century.

Lace caps, mob caps, or draped caps, were made of lace, white linen or delicate muslin, and trimmed with ribbon. They could be ruffled, embroidered, or plain, depending on who wore them and their status. A housekeeper, for example, would wear a more elaborate cap than a scullery maid, whose mob cap was simple by comparison. In Pride and Prejudice 1995, Mrs. Bennet wore such frilly caps with so many ruffles and trimmings that they complimented her image as a silly woman. One can imagine how much fancier her caps were than her maid’s!

Trimming and redecorating old bonnets provided a topic of conversation for women of all ages and social strata. In her novels and letters, Jane Austen frequently mentioned trimming new hats and making over old bonnets as a female activity. According to Penelope Byrde in A Frivolous Distinction, it was quite the fad during the last decade of the 18th century to adorn hats and bonnets with artificial fruits and flowers. As Jane Austen wrote Cassandra in June, 1799 (tongue in cheek we suspect):

Flowers are very much worn, & Fruit is still more the thing – Eliz: has a bunch of Strawberries, & I have seen Grapes, Cherries, Plumbs & Apricots – There are likewise Almonds& raisins, french plums & Tamarinds at the Grocers, but I have never seen any of them in hats.

In addition to professional milliners and modistes, there was quite a large cottage industry for making caps, hats, and turbans from home, which provided a meager salary for women who needed the income. The materials used in making headdresses were as varied as their styles: straw (chip or strip), beaver, velvet, silk, crape, satin, muslin or cloth (Byrde, p 6). Trims included ribbons, the above mentioned artificial fruits and flowers, veils, net, lace, or feathers, and even beads, pins, and brooches.

For a more detailed explanation of the headdresses worn during this era and to view additional illustrations, please click on the following links.

  • Hats and Bonnets, Victoriana: Scroll to the bottom of this page to see illustrations from 1811 and 1812.
  • Fileblogs, Regency Caps, Linore Rose Burkhart: Linore describes the various hat styles in this link, along with materials and trims.

For people interested in ordering their own Regency caps, or in trying their hand at making a bonnet, the following links will lead you to patterns, suppliers, and resources:

  • Louise MacDonald Millinery (link suggested by Laurel Ann, see above image). Louise created the caps for Pride & Prejudice 1995, and describes making them for the movie.

Byrde, Penelope, A Frivolous Distinction: Fashion and Needlework in the works of Jane Austen, Bath City Council, 1979.

Four Hundred Years of Fashion, Victoria and Albert Museum, edited by Natalie Rothstein, V&A Publications, 1984.

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Oh what a fun site this is! Its creator has assembled a host of interesting facts about P&P ’95, some of which are highlighted below:

        • Jane Austen figured largely in the BAFTA television award ceremony 1996. Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth’s perfomances as Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy, and Benjamin Whitrow’s portrayal of long-suffering Mr Bennet, earned them Best Actress and Best Actor nominations. In the end, Jennifer Ehle was the only one to receive an award for best actress.
        • Colin Firth: “When Pride and Prejudice was offered I just thought, without even having read it ‘Oh, that old warhorse’ and I unwrapped the huge envelope with great trepidation. I think I was only about five pages in when I was hooked. It was remarkable. I don’t think any script has fired me up quite as much, just in the most basic, romantic-story terms”
        • Colin Firth in The Times while still filming P&P: “There’ll be people who will object strongly simply because it’s my face instead of the one they have in their mind. Everyone believes he is dark, though I don’t believe Jane Austen ever described him as such. So they’ve dyed me dark. You have to be very careful not to make him either too idiosyncratic or too bland, and the danger is that you don’t dare to do anything at all. So you have to take over and say, ‘To hell with it, he’s mine now. I own this character and he has to be me’.”
        • In a Blog Critics interview, Jennifer Ehle says: “The relationship between Mr. Bennet and Lizzie was always my favorite part of the book. It was, for me growing up, the love story in the book; and I would weep whenever I reread it and would get to the bit where Lizzie tells Mr. Bennet that Darcy is the best man she has ever known. It is such an important part of the whole female fantasy of the story — the favorite daughter who idolizes her father above all men and then, when he fails to protect Lydia from herself, is exposed as a mere human being.” Update: Find her answers to a hundred questions in a PDF document at Jennifer Ehle Fan Blog.

        • Although she often believed to be British, [Jennifer] actually was born and raised in North Carolina. Both her parents are well-known. Her father, John Ehle, is a novelist while her mother, Rosemary Harris (above with Jennifer in a recent photo) is an acclaimed actress.
        • Jennifer Ehle played George Clooney’s girlfriend in Michael Clayton, although no one will see her performance. In Entertainment Weekly, George weakly explains the reason why her role was cut: “We shot it with Jennifer Ehle — she gave a wonderful performance,” George Clooney told Entertainment Weekly. “And the more we did it, we realized you have to isolate this character more. And having a girlfriend, he’s not in as much trouble.” George then wrote Jennifer a note to apologise for being cut. “I didn’t cut it, but I still felt bad about it.”

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        Now industry awakes her busy sons,
        Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground,
        And all the streets with passing cries resound.

        – John Gay, Walking the Streets of London

        Oh, how should I describe my three short days in London when I went on a deliberate search for the sites, establishments and objects that existed in the Regency era? We chose a location at the edge of Mayfair, in a hotel on Half Moon Street, just a half block from Piccadilly and Green Park, a once popular dueling spot. We were also just around the corner from Shepherd Market, that wonderful tucked-in and hidden section of pubs, restaurants, and shops few tourists frequent.

        The Art of Walking the Streets of London, Hand-coloured etching by George Cruickshank after George Moutard Woodward, 1813

        As I walked these familiar streets (for this was my fourth visit to this particular area of London), I turned onto St. James’s Street and looked inside the famous bow window at White’s, where Beau Brummel used to hold court. Inside, I spied a stout gentleman reclining in a comfortable leather chair reading the paper. Black and white prints of estimable personages lined the wall behind him.

        I moved on and turned left on Jermyn Street, with its rows of shops boasting Regency style bow windows. For sale in these small, select stores were custom made shirts, ties, men’s suits, and shoes. I strolled past the surprisingly small statue of Beau Brummel, which faces the entrance to Piccadilly Arcade, and headed straight for Floris, the perfume shop established in 1750. I entered its historic interior, where mementos of that time are displayed in mahogany and glass showcases. Luck was on my side, for 10 0z. bottles of lavender scented room spray was on sale.
        I promptly purchased three for my close Janeite friends, and acquired a Floris blue shopping bag in the process.

        I then crossed the street to Fortnum and Mason and entered this venerable store, established in 1707, through the arched doorway on the Picadilly side. Like Floris, this shop boasts several royal warrants. Although I was tempted by merchandise on every floor, especially the food court, I purchased only a tea strainer for a respectable sum. I stayed long enough to hear the store’s famous (but modern) clock (3) strike its chimes on the hour, and watch the statues of Mr. Fortnum and Mr. Mason appear from their hidden compartments. My next stop was Hatchard’s Bookshop, established in 1797. “Our customers have included some of Britain’s greatest political, social and literary figures – from Queen Charlotte, Disraeli and Wellington to Kipling, Wilde and Lord Byron…”


        Looking up Air Street from Piccadilly, Image from the Georgian Index

        I went slightly wild in this establishment, purchasing The Hell-Fire Clubs by Geoffrey Ashe, Decency & Disorder: The Age of Cant 1789-1837 by Ben Wilson, The Courtesan’s Revenge by Frances Wilson, England’s Mistress: The Infamous Life of Emma Hamilton by Kate Williams, Luxury and Pleasure in Eighteenth-Century Britain by Maxine Berg, and English Society in the 18th Century by Roy Porter.

        Laden with a bag of books and almost sated, for I was heady with the thought that these shops and institutions had existed in Jane Austen’s time, I strolled back to the hotel via Regent Street and historic Bond Street. I still had two more days of sightseeing to go, and I was a woman on a mission.

        Image from Maggie May’s Costume History Pages

        The next day I visited the Victoria and Albert Museum, and studied five amazingly beautiful regency gowns, as well as furniture and objects d’art from the Georgian, Regency, and Victorian Eras displayed in unique yet educational arrangements. Again I visited the bookstore, purchasing a Gentleman’s Book of Etiquette: Rules for Perfect Conduct, Life as a Victorian Lady by Pamela Horn, a cookery book with old recipes, and Four Hundred Years of Fashion, a V&A catalog.
        On the last day of my all too short trip, I visited the National Portrait Gallery and headed straight for Cassandra’s watercolour of Jane on the fourth floor. I almost missed it. The portrait is so tiny (scarcely larger than 4″x6″) and sits hidden, protected from damaging UV rays by an exhibition box that is open on only one side. I could not believe how small, delicate and faded this portrait was. Cassandra must have used a finely pointed sable brush in order to paint Jane’s features, which partly explains why the portrait is so crude. She only needed to make a minor mistake in order to skew Jane’s features. The other explanation is that Cassandra was not a particularly good artist. However, I was more than satisfied to view this resemblance of Jane’s face, for it is the only one I have seen up close.

        Before I left the museum, I purchased Dr. Johnson, His Club and Other Friends by Jenny Uglow and Below Stairs: 400 Years of Servants’ Portraits, an NPG catalog.

        Having no room left in my luggage, I nevertheless purchased a few more history books at the airport. The moment I returned home, I noticed a package on my hall table and opened it eagerly. Inside was a used edition of Jane Austen by Elizabeth Jenkins. My ravenous appetite for all things Austen has been temporarily slaked. From past experience, it will be a few years before I get the overwhelming itch to experience Regency London again.

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        In romance novels footmen are depicted as tall, dark, and handsome men in fancy livery, preferably matched in height. Surprisingly, this description of these statuesque men, who were as much a status symbol as servant, is true. According to Daniel Pool in What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, footmen wore:

        “livery,” or household uniform of fancy coat, knee breeches, stockings, and powdered hair, a costume that endured to the end of th 1800s. Because of their appearance at dinner and in public with the family, footmen were supposed to be the most “presentable” of the male servants. They were evaluated on the basis of the appearance of their calves in silk stocking, and they often gave their height when advertising for positions in the paper–it was considered absurd to have a pair of footmen who didn’t match in height. (Poole, p. 221)

        In olden days, footmen traditionally ran alongside carriages or to obtain items of importance, or raced other footmen of great houses in order to win bets for their masters. The Chamber Book of Days relates these stories of legend:

        For example: the Earl of Home, residing at Hume Castle in Berwickshire, had occasion to send his foot-man to Edinburgh one evening on important business. Descending to the hall in the morning, he found the man asleep on a bench, and, thinking he had neglected his duty, prepared to chastise him, but found, to his surprise, that the man had been to Edinburgh (thirty-five miles) and back, with his business sped, since the past evening. As another instance: the Duke of Landerdale, in the reign of Charles II, being to give a large dinner-party at his castle of Thirlstane, near Lander, it was discovered, at the laying of the cloth, that songe additional plate would be required from the Duke’s other seat of Lethington, near Haddington, fully fifteen miles distant across the Lammirmuir hills. The running footman instantly darted off, and was back with the required articles in time for dinner!

        Footmen acquired their names from their running duties, accompanying their masters or mistresses alongside carriages or horses. They carried a long cane containing a mixture of eggs and white wine for sustenance, but many accounts talk of thin, gaunt footmen who became too old before their time.

        In the eighteenth century [footmen] were frequently matched to run against horses and carriages One of the last recorded contests was in 1770 between a famous running footman and the Duke of Marlborough, the latter wagering that in his phaeton and four he would beat the footman in a race from Windsor to London. His Grace won by a very small margin. The poor footman worn out by his exertions and much chagrined by his defeat, died, it was said, of over fatigue. In the north of England the running footman was not quite extinct till well into the middle of the nineteenth century. So recently as 1851, on the opening of an assize court, there the sheriff and judges were preceded by two running footmen. About the same date the carriage of the High Sheriff of Northumberland on its way to meet the judges of assize, was attended by two pages on foot holding on to the door handles of the carriage and running beside it. A Handy Book of Curious Information: Comprising Strange Happenings in the … By William Shepard Walsh, 1913

        By the 18th century, footmen began to work under the supervision of a butler, taking on such duties as “carrying coals up to rooms, cleaning boots, trimming lamps, laying the table for meals, answering the front door and, at Erddig, sleeping in the butler’s pantry to ensure nobody stole the family silver” (Willes, page 18). The footman’s life was not an easy one. He arose at the crack of dawn and worked until 11 p.m. at night almost without pause. Frederick John Gorst, a former footman at the turn of the 20th century tells of the day he fainted:

        Dr. Burton asked me how much time I had off for rest and recreation, and I told him that I had not had a day off since I began to work at Ashton-Hayes six months ago. Moreover, I had not had a holiday nor seen my family in more than three years. He shook his head in disbelief, and said:

        “John, this is a very serious matter. How old are you?”

        “I’m almost eighteen, Dr. Burton,” I said.

        “You are very tall for your age, and your pale complexion leads me to believe that you need some sunshine and fresh air.”

        To gain some insights into a footman’s day and duties, click on the following links:

        The Footman: A Servant’s Day in London

        Dear FRIEND,
        Since I am now at leisure,
        And in the Country taking Pleasure,
        If it be worth your while to hear
        A silly Footman’s Business there,
        I’ll try to tell, in easy Rhyme,
        How I in London spend my Time.And first,
        As soon as Laziness will let me,
        To cleaning Glasses, Knives, and Plate,
        And such-like dirty Work as that,
        Which (by the bye) is what I hate.
        This done; with expeditious Care,
        To dress myself I strait prepare;
        I clean my Buckles, black my Shoes;
        Powder my Wig, and brush my Cloaths;
        Take off my Beard, and wash my Face,
        And then I’m ready for the Chace.Down comes my Lady’s Woman strait:
        Where’s Robin? Here. Pray take your Hat,
        And go—and go—and go—and go—;
        And this—and that desire to know.
        The Charge receiv’d, away run I,And here, and there, and yonder fly,
        With Services, and How-d’ye’does,
        Then Home return full fraught with News.Here some short Time does interpose,
        ‘Till warm Efflucia’s greet my Nose,
        Which from the Spits and Kettles fly,
        Declaring Dinner-time is nigh.
        To lay the Cloth I now prepare,
        With Uniformity and Care;
        In Order Knives and Forks are laid,
        With folded Napkins, Salt, and Bread:
        The Side-boards glittering too appear,
        With Plate, and Glass, and China-ware.
        Then Ale, and Beer, and Wine decanted,
        And all Things ready which are wanted,
        The smoaking Dishes enter in
        To Stomachs sharp a grateful Scene;
        Which on the Table being plac’d,
        And some few Ceremonies past,
        They all sit down, and fall to eating,
        Whilst I behind stand silent waiting.

        This is the only pleasant Hour
        Which I have in the Twenty-four;
        For whilst I unregarded stand,
        With ready Salver in my Hand,
        And seem to understand no more
        Than just what’s call’d for, out to pour;
        I hear, and mark the courtly Phrases,
        And all the elegance that passes;
        Disputes maintain’d without Digression,
        With ready Wit, and fine Expression;
        The Laws of true Politeness stated,
        And what Good-breeding is, debated:
        Where all unanimously exclude
        The vain Coquet, the formal Prude,
        The Ceremonious, and the Rude.
        The flattering, fawning, praising Train;
        The fluttering, empty, noisy, vain;
        Detraction, Smut, and what’s prophane.

        This happy Hour elaps’d and gone,
        The Time of drinking Tea comes on.
        The Kettle fill’d, the Water boil’d,
        The Cream provided, Biscuits pil’d,
        And Lamp prepar’d; I strait engage
        The Lilliputian Equipage
        Of Dishes, Saucers, Spoons, and Tongs,
        And all th’ Et cetera which thereto belongs.
        Which rang’d in order and Decorum,
        I carry in, and set before ‘em;
        Then pour or Green, or Bohea out,
        And, as commanded, hand about.

        This Business over, presently
        The Hour of visiting draws nigh;
        The Chairman strait prepare the Chair,
        A lighted Flambeau I prepare;
        And Orders given where to go,
        We march along, and bustle thro’
        The parting Crouds, who all stand off
        To give us Room. O how you’d laugh!
        To see me strut before a Chair,
        And with a stirdy Voice, and Air,
        Crying—By your Leave, Sir! have a Care!
        From Place to Place with speed we fly,
        And Rat-tatat the Knockers cry:
        Pray is your Lady, Sir, within?
        If no, go on; if yes, we enter in.

        Then to the Hall I guide my Steps,
        Amongst a Croud of Brother Skips,
        Drinking Small-beer, and talking Smut,
        And this Fool’s Nonsence puting that Fool’s out.
        Whilst Oaths and Peals of Laughter meet,
        And he who’d loudest, is the greatest Wit.
        But here amongst us the chief Trade is
        To rail against our Lords and Ladies;
        To aggravate their smallest Failings,
        T’expose their Faults with saucy Railings.
        For my Part, as I hate the Practice,
        And see in them how base and black ’tis,
        To some bye Place I therefore creep,
        And sit me down, and feign to sleep;
        And could I with old Morpheus bargain,
        ‘Twou’d save my Ears much Noise and Jargon.
        But down my Lady comes again,
        And I’m released from my Pain.
        To some new Place our Steps we bend,
        The tedious Evening out to spend;
        Sometimes, perhaps, to see the Play,
        Assembly, or the Opera;
        Then home and sup, and thus we end the Day.

        Norton Anthology: Robert Dodsley Poem: The Footman, 18th Century

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