Category: Research

Posts in which we talk about research

Celebrity Byron

Updated on February 22, 2013 by Diane Gaston

I watched the Academy Awards last night even though I only saw one of the nominated movies–War Horse. That never stopped me from having favorites. I’m delighted that Christopher Plummer won for Best Supporting Actor and Octavia Spencer for Best Supporting Actress. It was fun to see The Artist win so much, but I was disappointed that War Horse did not win anything.

The reason I enjoyed the Academy Awards, I think, is due to fascination with celebrities. To see what the women wore. To see the handsome men. To hear the speeches, which are almost always disappointing, and cringe at the presenters attempting to be funny.

I like to think of Lord Byron as one of the first celebrities in the modern sense of the word. I read an article that said that celebrity, as we think of it, began in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries when the industrialization of print meant that information could be widely distributed. Lord Byron’s poetry and gossip about his life was certainly available to many.

He was wildly popular when his poetry caught fire with the public. It is said that his wife termed the adulation surrounding him Bryomania. How modern sounding is that?

He was perfectly cast for such fame. His verse was emotional and sometimes shocking and he was the quintessential “bad boy” in need of taming. His early life was romantic-his deformity of foot, his tumultuous family including his great-uncle, “Mad Jack.” His early travels in the Mediterranean and his dramatic adopting of native dress, must have exciting to women of his time, especially young fanciful girls who still today idolize celebrities. I like to believe the 19th century drawing I own is one a lovestruck fan drew of Byron.

Like many celebrities, Byron fed the gossip mills. His affair with Caroline Lamb. His later affairs. His separation from his wife amid allegations of cruelty, infidelity and incest with a half-sister. And like many celebrities, Byron met an untimely death, albeit a romantic one, dying of fever while preparing to fight in the Greek war of independence from the Ottoman Empire.

Like other celebrities, especially those who met an early death, Byron lives on in his marvelous works, his letters, and in his legend that still fascinates us.

Not so different from the celebrities at the Oscars.
Who were your favorites at the Oscars? Will Amanda do a fashion critique tomorrow?

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged Byron, Lord Byron | 10 Replies

Courtesans

Updated on February 21, 2013 by Amanda McCabe/Laurel McKee

The last couple of weeks, I’ve posted on the lives of ladies-in-waiting at Court. This week, I decided to take a slightly different angle, and explore the history of another segment of female society–courtesans. (Plus, it’s a very hot day here, in the 90s, and I’m feeling very, very lazy. Just reading Megan’s post from yesterday is all the Literature I can take in right now! So I pulled up a short article I wrote for the “Regency Reader” using research from my book LADY MIDNIGHT. I have a lot more info in my notes–if anyone wants to hear more, just email me!). Here’s the article:

“A great courtesan was no mere prostitute. She was highly cultured, witty, charming, elegant, companion to the great men of her day. According to Susan Griffin, the greatest distinction between a prostitute and a courtesan was that courtesans were “personages”–celebrities who were written about in the journals and papers of their day, gossiped about for their fashions and love affairs, arbiters of tastes and trends. The greatest courtesan could use her body and her brains to enjoy the benefits of marriage, such as companionship, property, and financial stability, without the social constraints and loss of independence. It was not all positive, of course. There was little companionship with other women, and when romance soured there could be dire financial repercussions, and even physical revenge (not to mention the threat of disease). But it was often the best of a very narrow set of options.

In English polite society of the 18th and early 19th centuries, arranged marriage was the norm–husbands and even wives had great freedom in seeking their affections elsewhere, provided there were proper heirs and the partners were discreet. “One exists with one’s husband–one LIVES with one’s lover,” says the Marquise de Vandenesse in Balzac’s “Une fille d’Eve.” Thus the courtesan played a very important role in this period–not “received” in polite society, but with her own important world, the demi-monde, with its own society, etiquette, and protocol. She was paid for her personality and style, her ability to attract attention and celebrity. To show her off was a sign of prestige. To stay at the top of her game, she had to be witty, smart, independent, and charismatic, for mere prettiness was common, and soon faded.

The most famous courtesan of her day was Harriette Wilson, one of five sisters who became well-known members of the demi-rep. She was not beautiful, but she was very witty and fashionable. She and her sisters showed off in their own opera box (200 gineas a year!) and in their fancy carriages in Hyde Park. For men, to be introduced to her was the height of social success. But her stylish clothes and household were very expensive, and she fell into a debt and a bad relationship with a swindler named Rochfort (beware of men named after stinky cheeses). By the end of her career, she was in poverty in Paris, and undertook to write her Memoirs to raise some needed cash.

The Memoirs were published in twelve parts between January and April 1825, and were an immediate sensation. At the end of each installment was an advertisement giving the names of people mentioned in the next part, giving them time to buy themselves out if they hadn’t already. Harriette made about 10,000 pounds, but most of it was soon squandered by Stink Cheese Man, and she died in complete poverty on the Continent in 1845.”

Here are a few books I found helpful (and very interesting!);
Harriette Wilson’s Memoirs (my version was edited by Leslie Blanche and published in 2003)
Paula Byrne’s “Perdita” (about Prinny’s first love, actress Mary Robinson)
James Davidson’s “Courtesans and Fishcakes” (way out of “our” era, it’s about ancient Greece, but great)
Susan Griffin’s “The Book of the Courtesans”
Katie Hickman’s “Courtesans: Money, Sex and Fame in the 19th Century”
Valerie Grosvenor Myer’s “Harriette Wilson: Lady of Pleasure”
Nickie Roberts’ “Whores in History”
Margaret Rosenthal’s “The Honest Courtesan: The Life of Veronica Franco” (another one out of our period, but a terrific read, and the basis for the fab movie “Dangerous Beauty”)
Francis Wilson’s “The Courtesan’s Revenge: Harriette Wilson, the Woman Who Blackmailed the King”

I asked in my last article if you would be a good lady-in-waiting–now for something much more fun. 🙂 Would you have been a good courtesan???

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged courtesans, Harriette Wilson | 6 Replies

A Word from Lady Cordelia

Updated on February 21, 2013 by Amanda McCabe/Laurel McKee

I have read with great interest my hostess’ recent missives on the life of a lady-in-waiting. (I have also been watching with equal interest the little irridescent circlets on the d-v-d machine while Miss McCabe is at what she calls her “job,” though I see little sign of something respectable like governessing. Some of these circlets purport to be living versions of Miss Austen’s delightful novels. I have much to say about them, though I will reserve commentary for a future letter). This missive concerns my own youthful days at Court, before I married my dear, departed husband. There is much time to muse on those delightful days now, as I still am residing in Miss McCabe’s rather untidy cottage. When she is gone, I cannot operate the rather mysterious contraptions here (and she became rather cross when I broke the whirling blades of the, um, blender. I only wanted one of those delightful fruit concoctions called smoothy-s, which are much like some of the sweets at Gunters, near where I once lived. Ah, but that is another tale. Anyway, how was I to know one must first remove pits from peaches?). Fortunately, there are many books to read (though some are quite shocking! Have you read a tome called “Dedication” by Miss Mullany?), and I have my memories to keep me company until I can discover the means to return to my own home.

When I was a young lady, my parents sent me to Court to serve as a maid-of-honor to dear Queen Charlotte (a most dignified and morally correct lady, no matter what might be said about her in less dignified circles. The young ladies in this incomprehensible twenty-first century could learn a great deal from Her Majesty’s sterling example. Why, my hostess actually goes about with men without a chaperone! But the less said about that…) My time at Court proved to be excellent preparation for my future life.

A typical day at my duties would run thus: I would rise at about six, and be summoned to the Queen’s dressing room at half past seven. The wardrobe women would already have completed the preliminary stages of Her Majesty’s toilette, and we would help her with the finishing touches. I would then return to my room for breakfast, attend to my correspondence, and perhaps take a short walk before attending to the Queen’s midday change of gown. This would often take two or three hours, leaving only a brief time before attending the Queen on her evening preparations and whatever events were scheduled for that night (a ball or concert, perhaps).

It is true that the hours were long and the rules many, and a few of my fellow Maids (whining wretches!) had little good to say about the great honor bestowed on them. Yet I met my dear husband at Court, and learned a great deal about honor and propriety which Certain People would do well to follow.

Now, I must go, for I hear my hostess’ strange horseless phaeton entering the strange stable she calls a garage. I have to ask her again how one operates the intriguing gadget that pours out coffee in such a neat little stream…

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged ladies in waiting, Lady Cordelia | 4 Replies

All Tarted Up

Updated on February 21, 2013 by Janet Mullany

Are Lizzie Bennett’s fine eyes or Miss Woodhouse’s delicate complexion more than a fortuitous gift of Nature? What weapons did the Regency lady have in her cosmetic arsenal?

More than you might think. Some–hair pomades made of pork fat and scented with essential oils–are not the sort of things you’d want to read, write, or even think about. The white foundation used by the former generation was lead-based and could ruin a woman’s complexion, if not kill her. The companion red for the clown look so popular then was mostly harmless, but could be expensive, made of safflower, cochineal, brazilwood, or sandalwood.

Favorite scents, for soap, lotions, and face-washes, included many ingredients we’d associate nowadays with cooking–cinnamon, cloves, citrus, cardamom–as well as amber, musk, violet, rose, linden flowers, and elder. No, I have no idea what elder smelled like!

It’s possible to make your own skincare potions with ingredients found in the kitchen–here are a couple I’ve actually tried.

Cleanser:
Grind up oatmeal in a food processor, add some honey (this is all to taste, I don’t measure this sort of thing). You might even want to heat it slightly. Massage into face. Rinse off.

Toner:
Rosewater (you can buy it at an Indian grocery store) beaten into one egg white. Let dry on face, rinse off.

And here’s one I haven’t tried, but it has a beautiful name–Queen of Hungary Water–and I intend to make some (when the mint is obliging enough to emerge and I can borrow some rose petals and lavender from my neighbors). I will post before and after pictures. It’s recommended as an astringent, aftershave, deodorant, hair and skin tonic and even as an inhaled headache remedy:

1 part roses
1 part lavender
1 part rosemary
1 part sage
1 part orange peel
1 part lemon peel
2 parts mint
To 2 ounces apple cider vinegar, add 2 ounces of the above herbal formula. Put in an airtight glass jar, let steep for about 2 weeks. Strain and add 1 1/2 cups pure distilled rosewater. Pour into an airtight decanter and use daily.

Go to this site, http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Prairie/8088/skin.html for more of the same. And do you have anything in the kitchen you enjoy slathering onto your face (other than accidental chocolate and ice cream smearage?)

Janet

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged Regency cosmetics | 5 Replies

What happened in…

Updated on February 21, 2013 by Janet Mullany

So here I was tearing out my hair. February 21 is not a particularly auspicious day when it comes to exciting births, deaths, or events. So I thought I’d go and look up some newspapers for February 21, 1813. After a spectacular fail at a site where I would have had to pay, I found that, joy of joys, The Georgian Newspaper Project is once again online, with archives 1770-1800 of The Bath Chronicle. Or maybe it always has been and I’d mislaid it. Thank you, thank you, to all the volunteers who put this together.

I had a quick look to see what was going on in February in Bath in various years. Some of it was the stuff of scandal–look at this from February 8, 1770: Finance: Robert Yeeles of Longdean, Wilts repudiates liabilities of his wife Mary Yeeles, from date of advert. She has eloped & is not to be trusted.

The city was a hotbed of crime. This, and most of the examples below are from February 2, 1786. I think this is interesting because of the variety of fancy goods available in one shop. Crime: robberies – from Wm Moore’s shop, Orange Grove, Bath. Shell inkstand mounted in silver & 2 silver pens (12 months ago); pearl jessamine fancy pin – value 4 guin (1 month ago); 4′ 6″ oilcloth umbrella (on 22 Feb). Reward 5 guin each item on recovery & conviction, or 2 guin/ea if being pawned or sold.

Then there’s the case of the great horse exchange. While robbers looted Mr. Moore’s shop, criminals roamed the countryside. Crime: horse theft – iron grey gelding stolen on 30 Jan, the property John Brittan, Dyrham, Gloucs. Reward for information leading to conviction from John Brittan of 1 guin over amount allowed by Act of Parliament. But on the same day, this notice was posted: Notices: abandoned horse – brown mare left in field where iron grey gelding removed (property of John Brittan, Dyrham). Owner requested to reclaim.

While in Bath, you’d probably order tea, coffee and candles (tea and coffee, yes, but candles in the same shop?) from Coles tea warehouse. Goods: fine fresh teas, Coles tea warehouse, 7 Northgate St, Bath. 16 varieties tea. Best Bohea 2s, Congou leaf 2s 6d, Congou tea 3s, very good do 4s, very good Souchong 5s, v fine do 6s, superfine do 7s, fine green 3s 6d, fine single 4s 6d, v fine do 5s. But another ad mentions imported cowslip flavour 10s. That surprised me. Although you’d expect to find herbal teas for medicinal use, you wouldn’t expect to find them in a tea and coffee (and candles) store. Cowslip tea’s main use is as a sedative. And imported from where? It’s native to England.

More luxury goods. I almost feel sorry I’m two centuries late for this sale: Fashion: sale of silks by James & Peter Ferry, retiring silk weavers & mercers, cnr Gallaway’s Bldgs, Bath. Remainder of stock at a quarter less than any shop or warehouse in England, includes crepes & bombasines.

Posh arrivals to Bath were announced in the newspaper. Visitors: arrivals in Bath – Hon Mr Williams [no other titled people], Admiral Collins. Sometimes “no other titled people” was shortened to NOTP.

The fashionable churches demanded reservations: Churches: Octogon Chapel – no access to pews for visitors unless seats reserved via clerk, Mr Bullman at Mr Herschel’s in New King St, Bath; or at vestry 1 hr before services on Sundays, Wednesdays & Fridays. And yes, that is Mr. William Herschel, organist, composer, and astronomer whose house on New King Street is now a museum.

And if you wanted to leave the city of luxury and pleasure, you’d turn to the newspaper: Travel: coaches Bath to London, summary – a) Bristol & Bath mailcoach from Three Tuns at 5.30pm; b) coach from Lamb Inn at 4pm; c) coach from Three Tuns & Lamb Inns at 4am. Inside passengers only £1 10s. Perfomed Willimas & Co Bath, Wilson & Co London.