The Victorian era starts!

Really, it didn’t. The raffish, riotous, colorful excesses of the Georgian period had been all over for a long, long time. As just one example, Thomas Bowdler, a byword for Victorian prudery, published his expurgated Shakespeare in 1818, to spare blushes during family readings. It was followed by a cleaned up version of Gibbons’ Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. And women’s fashions were getting sillier by the minute. But June 20, 1837:

I was awoke at 6 o’clock by Mamma, who told me the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham were here and wished to see me. I got out of bed and went into my sitting-room (only in my dressing gown) and alone, and saw them. Lord Conyngham then acquainted me that my poor Uncle, the King, was no more, and had expired at 12 minutes past 2 this morning, and consequently that I am Queen.

Thus began a reign of over sixty years by possibly one of the most tedious monarchs ever, or, depending on how you’d like to look at it, the precedent set and lasting to the present day of not particularly smart, talented or even moderately decorative royalty. Not that her predecessors the four Georges and William were much to write home about, but they made for good scandal sheet copy. However a lot of amazing things happened during her reign–the end of slavery, the building of an empire, major scientific discoveries, Dickens and Darwin, and last but not least, a huge outflowing of pornography.

Thanks, ma’am.

Aaaw. Victoria at age four.

But back to the princess. A brave exhibit at Kensington Palace a couple of years ago about her early years, Victoria Revealed, tried to put the best face on what was an appalling childhood:

Her mother, the Duchess of Kent, and her ambitious adviser, Sir John Conroy, bought her up very strictly. They controlled who Victoria was allowed to see – she had very few friends her own age – and they kept her away from Court. Victoria had a vast range of hobbies and interests to brighten these lonely hours. She loved to sing, to draw, to play music and to ride her horse in Kensington Gardens. She also adored her little King Charles spaniel, Dash, who she showered with affection. She even dressed him up in a red jacket and trousers from time to time.

Here’s an early self portrait.

And her pets were cute. Her Majesty’s Favorite Pets by Landseer (1837) shows Dash with Lory the parrot, the greyhound Hector and deerhound Nero.

Such good dogs, to sit still for so long!

Like every historical figures, Victoria’s myths, and those of her age, overshadow the reality. She probably didn’t tell her daughters to lie back and think of England, and the woman who reputedly was “not amused” had a keen sense of humor.  She enjoyed a passionate relationship with Prince Albert (who did not have, you know) and seems to have been rather susceptible to male charms–she and her favorite Prime Minister Disraeli addressed each other as “Faery Queen” and “Dizzy.” She didn’t insist on wrapping up table or piano legs–that was, maybe, an American having a joke at an English visitor’s expense–although she was a stickler for formality and protocol.

What are your impressions of Victoria?

I am running out the door to a hair appointment, and then diving back into copy edits, but I wanted to mark the 198th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo today.  When I was in high school, I thought about becoming an archaeologist, and I’m still fascinated with the profession!  A few months ago I read an article in “Archaeology” magazine about an unknown soldier’s skeleton found on the battlefield in Belgium, still with the musket ball that killed him in his ribs.  It was an amazing story (and it seems the search for the soldier’s ID is still going on).  Here are a few articles about the find:

From the Daily Mail (“Early analysis suggests the remains are of a 20-year-old man, who was 5ft 1in tall with teeth worn by biting open gunpowder tubes.”)

From the Huffington Post

From the History Blog

And a soldier’s letter from the battle at the British Library….

I wasn’t able to find any info on whether they had identified this man yet or not–if you know anything else, let me know!

What are some of your favorite events and mysteries from history???

I am having such a busy month! This past weekend we moved my daughter to Richmond, a feat that took up lots of time and energy in the last week. We also saw the Richmond relatives for Father’s Day and my nephew had this for his iPad–it’s a cover that looks like a vintage book.

In search of something to talk about today, I went to Chambers Book of Days for today and found this entry– (it all seemed to fit….)

THE ROXBURGHE CLUB

This fraternity—the parent of the whole tribe of book-printing clubs which have occupied so broad a space in the literary system of our age—was formed on the 17^thof June 1812. The plant shot forth from a hot-bed of bibliomania, which had been created by the sale of the Duke of Roxburghe’s library. On that occasion Earl Spencer, the youthful Duke of Devonshire, the Marquis of Blandford, and a whole host of minor men, lovers of old and rare books, were brought together in a state of high excitement, to contend with each other for the rarities exposed under the hammer of Mr. Evans, in the Duke of Roxburghe’s mansion in St. James’s Square. On the 16^th of June, a number of them had chanced to dine together in the house of Mr. Bolland (afterwards Justice Bolland), on Adelphi Terrace. They had to look forward to the exposure on the ensuing day of a most rare and remarkable volume, a folio edition of Boccaccio, printed by Valdarfer of Venice in 1471. They agreed to meet again at dinner on the ensuing evening, at the St. Alban’s tavern, in order to talk over the fight which would by that time have taken place over the body of Valdarfer; and they did so.

Earl Spencer, the unsuccessful candidate for the volume (which had sold at £2260), occupied the chair; Dr. Dibdin acted as croupier. There were sixteen other gentlemen present, all of them possessors of choice libraries, and all keen appreciators of scarce and curious books. The lively Dibdin tells us that they drank toasts which. were as hieroglyphical characters to the public, but’ all understood and cordially greeted by those who gave and those who received them.’ We may presume that the immortal memory of William Caxton was one of the most prominent; that sundry illustrious booksellers, and even notable binders (bibliopegists they called them), were not forgotten. The club was constituted by the persons there assembled; but by the time they had had two annual assemblages, the number was swelled to thirty-one, at which it was fixed.

It was by an after thought that the club commenced its system of printing and reprinting, each member fixing upon some precious article, of which only as many copies were thrown off as afforded one to each, presented gratuitously. By this happy plan the friendly spirit of the brethren was of course promoted, at the same time that some valuable examples of ancient literature were rescued from oblivion. In the Scottish imitative societies—the Bannatyne Club, Maitland Club, &c.—the same plan was adopted; while in others of later institution the reprints have been effected by an equal annual subscription.

The Roxburghe Club still exists today and has produced a remarkable number of books over the years.

If you could have any antique book what would it be? Or do you own an antique book? (I own an 1815 edition of La Belle Assemblee!)