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I recently attended this fascinating exhibition which is being staged at the Victoria and Albert Museum. I say staged for it is a magnificent theatrical evocation of all Walpole’s interests, which were many and varied, collecting together, sometimes for the first time in over 100 years, objects associated with Walpole and his Gothic confection of a house at Twickenham, Strawberry Hill, here depicted by Paul Sandby. (and please note you can enlarge all the illustrations here merely by clicking on them)
Horace Walpole (1717-1797) was the youngest son of George II’s powerful prime minister, Robert Walpole. He was an MP for over 20 years but it was not his political causes which remain of interest to us, but his artistic endeavours.
For anyone who studies the 18th century, encountering Horace Walpole is inevitable. He was a prolific author of many fascinating letters(collected in 48 volumes!) full of waspish comment; he moved among the highest social circles and his impressions of his world and the many, many people he encountered are engagingly reflected in his papers. He was an avid art collector and an antiquarian, an amateur architect and landscape gardener , and importantly for admirers of Northanger Abbey, was the father of the Gothic Novel, being the author of the first of the genre, The Castle of Otranto.
The exhibit, which is contained just in a series of ten sections all dealing with different aspects of Walpole’s life and interests is fascinating. I am even considering revisiting it as I don’t think I really managed to see and appreciate everything despite spending a long time there( luckily my companion is as interested in the 18th century as I!)
His house at Strawberry Hill- which is undergoing a thorough and needed restoration and will re-open in the autumn -and its contents is at the heart of the exhibit.
Apart from the connection with Otranto,there is another Austenesque connection with Walpole: Horace, along with his circle of friends including John Chute
of The Vyne in Hampshire, were very influential in reviving interest in the aesthetic aspects of the Gothic era. Indeed a common name for this revived architectural style is Strawberry Hill Gothic. The Chute family - though the next generation on from Horace’s friend, John, were friendly with the Austen family ( especially Jane Austen’s eldest brother James who was vicar of Sherborne St John, the parish in which The Vyne is situated )
Horace consulted them closely on all aspects of the exterior and interior decoration of his house. Here, as an example of the interior, is the wonderful gallery complete with papier mache fan vaulting
If you go here you can view a short video of the exhibit and Strawberry Hill’s restoration, which I hope you will enjoy.
It is difficult to isolate pieces in the exhibit for mention here they were so many and so magnificent: a locket containing Mary Tudor’s hair, a Cardinal’s hat believed to have been owned by Wolsey…..many wonderful things: so I’ve decided to show you a few items that I found particularly interesting.
Horace Walpole was fascinated with the romantic aspects of the past: his collection of 17th century miniatures included these of the Digby family, Sir Kenelm Digby and his wife, Venitia. They were Catholic supporters of Charles I and Sir Kenelm is now remembered as the author of one of my favourite antiquarian cookery books The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digby kt Opened(1669)
These miniatures, wonderful though they appear, are enclosed in an equally magnificently enamelled case:
Sir Kenelme’s wife died suddenly in 1633, and Sir Kenelme commissioned Sir Anthony van Dyke to capture her appearance on her death bed which was copied in this miniature
Another article I found fascinating was this cabinet, decorated with panels drawn by Lady Diana Beauclark,whose scandalous divorce from Visccount Bolingbroke after her adulterous affair with Sir Topham Beauclerk made her a sensation and outcast from her class.
She also designed the Wedgwood plagues used to decorate the interior of the cabinet
The relationship between Horace and disgraced women like Diana Beauclerk is an intriguing part of his personality . He never married and speculation on his sexuality rages today.
His home in the fashionable village of Twickenham was derided by the purist Gothick admirers of the 19th century, most importantly and prominently, Augustus Pugin. But recently it has regained its rightful place as part of the history of design. If you cannot visit the exhibition which ends in July, then I strongly recommend the sumptuously illustrated catalogue of the exhibition edited by Michael Snodin the director of the Strawberry Hill Trust, published by Yale.
I recently went to the Victoria and Albert Museum to see one of their current exhibitions, Quilts 1700-2010.
It was a fascinating exhibit not concentrating so much upon the mechanics of quilt making, but on the history and inspiration behind the older quilts, together with some inspiring modern quilts, some especially commissioned for the exhibit. As someone whose hand quilting days are over (and does not really approve in a very unreasonable and irrational way of quilting by sewing machine) I found some of the old quilts quite moving and admirable. However, I also loved the floral Liberty print quilt, consisting of pastel floral union jacks,called Liberty Jack by Janey Forgan and which was made in 2008
If you cannot visit the museum for the exhibition, which runs until the 4th July of this year, then I do recommend the accompanying book/catalogue by the curator of the exhibition, Sue Prichard.
The quilts I found most interesting were those from our period (now, there is a surprise, I hear you say ) and I’d like to share some of the details of them with you now, if you’ll allow.
Women and politics is a theme very much in vogue in academia at the moment and this exhibition was no exception.The quilts I was most intrigued by were not only from our era but they also expressed, with however small a “p”, political thoughts by the women who made them.
The first was made in 1799 and shows George III inspecting his volunteer troops in Hyde Park.
The centrepiece was clearly inspired by a print of the event made by John Singleton Copley.
As the catalogue states:
This seemingly inconsequential and unheroic event was in reality a vital display of domestic military strength during a period of perpetual threat of invasion. In 1799 Britain had been at war with France for six years. ..The scene at Hyde Park represented represented not just the physical protection of the king and his subjects against French aggression on home soil but the preservation of the British settlement and the body politic.
Around the edge of the quilt, as you can see ( and do remember you can enlarge this and all the other illustrations in this post merely by clicking on them) are scenes representing military and naval events: the whole quilt is a piece of home propaganda if you like, supporting the armed forces and volunteers protecting the nation in time of war.
I’m sure Anne Elliot would have approved…
Another of the quits which was intriguing was a bedcover dating from around 1820
and which has as its centre piece a printed cotton portrait of Queen Caroline of Brunswick, the wife of George IV.
Jane Austen was of course a supporter of Queen Caroline in all the Royals well-publicised disputes and wrote about her as follows in her letter to Martha Lloyd dated 16th February, 1813:
“I suppose all the World is sitting in Judgement upon the Princess of Wales’s Letter. Poor woman, I shall support her as long as I can, because she is a Woman, & because I hate her Husband — but I can hardly forgive her for calling herself “attached & affectionate” to a Man whom she must detest — & the intimacy said to subsist between her & Lady Oxford is bad — I do not know what to do about it; but if I must give up the Princess, I am resolved at least always to think that she would have been respectable, if the Prince had behaved only tolerably by her at first. –”
No doubt she would have approved of this bedcover too…..
These type of block printed commemorative panels were very popular in the early 19th century. Here is one commemorating Princess Charlotte’s marriage to Prince Leopold of 1816:
And here is a purely floral one dating from 1816:
This is similar to the centre piece of Jane Austen’s own quilt, which is still on display at the Jane Austen House Museum in Chawton:
This is the quilt that she made as a project with her mother, Mrs Austen, and with her sister, Cassandra. Here she is writing to Cassandra about it in her letter dated 31st May 1811:
Have you remembered to collect pieces for the patchwork? We are now at a stand-still.
No imagery of political leanings here, sadly: but that may have been due to it being a shared project. After viewing these politically inspired quilts, I would loved to have seen what Jane Austen might have embroidered, left to her own devices……
The Hot Cross Buns have been buttered and eaten, the Easter Eggs hunted for and found and the Easter tree with its array of Austrian eggs has been put away for another year…..I’m back from my Easter Break and hope you all had a wonderful Spring celebration too.
I went to a couple of exhibitions, the details of which I am going to share with you in a few days but first, a treat: an interview with Susannah Carson.
The organizers of the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books recently contacted me to arrange an interview with Susannah Carson, the editor of the recently published anthology of Austen inspired critiques entitled, A Truth Universally Acknowledged: 33 Writers on Why We Read Jane Austen.
Susannah is due to appear at the Festival on Sunday the 25th April at 10.30 a.m. in the Young Hall CS 50, speaking in the Writing on Writers Panel, and if any of you are in the area I hope you can go and listen to her.
The book is a fascinating read: one I found best read not in one long swoop, but better experienced little by little , essay by essay, allowing room for thoughtful contemplation of the differing views. Some of the articles I agreed with, some I did not. As someone who is probably more in tune with the past than the present I found the exclusion of writers beyond the last 100 years slightly sad. But overall it is a good, thought provoking collection body of criticism. It is a perfect bedside or bathside anthology for anyone interesting in the reasons why, after nearly 200 years, we still continue to read and enjoy Jane Austen’s works.
And I was truly delighted to be given the opportunity to discuss with Susannah –via the wonderful medium of email thereby avoiding any delays due to unexpected volcanic eruptions-the whys and wherefores of her book.
Here is our exchange of views. I do hope you enjoy it.
1.What were your criteria for including a writer’s views on Jane Austen in the compilation?
There were two main criteria.
First, the essay had to address the “Why?” question. Why do we read Jane Austen? Why does she continue to influence how we think and feel, write and read, two hundred years later? This seems to me to be one of the great and wonderful literary mysteries. And by answering the “Why?” question, we get insights into the other how, when, why, where, and even when questions as well.
Second, the essay had to be written in an engaging voice—the kind of voice that allows us to imagine the writer on the other side of the page. I wasn’t looking for omniscient voices that echo through damp, archival corridors or sound like a canned telephone tree. The authors of these essays sound like they’re sitting on the other side of a café table, reminiscing, reflecting, sometimes even leaning forward and slapping their hands down on the table when they’re trying to make a favorite point.
2. Were there any writers (living or dead) whom you considered including, but then rejected? If so, who were they, and why?
There are some wonderful passages and essays on Austen composed by 19th-century authors: George Saintsbury, Margaret Oliphant, Sir Walter Scott.
We decided to only include essays from the last hundred years: anything older might have brought something like attic mustiness to the collection.
3. Excepting your own essay, with which writer’s view did you most agree?
I find myself referring most often to four passages.
The first is by Susanna Clarke, (the author of Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrel-jfw) who reminds us that marriage is a career choice for Austen’s heroines.
“Today the idea of marriage is a loaded one; at best it’s a closing down of options. Austen’s women saw things differently. For them life opened up at the point of marriage. The married state, not the single state, meant liberation….Of course this bid for freedom only worked if you married the right person” (3-4).
I like the passage because it emphasizes a certain perspective on Austen that I’ve always loved: that the novels aren’t “about” marriage; that they’re about heroines coming into their own, what Eva Brann calls “the settling of a woman for life” (201).
The second passage works in counterpoint to the first. Margot Livesey explains that the love stories work because
“the reader must come to feel that this romance is not merely a matter of personal preference between two people, but that a whole world order is in question until these two find each other.”
I like the idea that love really does matter.
The third passage is by Eva Brann, who reminds us that happy literature isn’t merely light literature, that tragic literature isn’t necessarily more serious.
She writes, “Jane Austen…knows what the angels know—that happiness is more worthy of note than unhappiness” (202).
And the fourth passage is about how reading influences how we see the world. Alain de Botton writes,
“One effect of reading a book which traces the faint yet vital tremors of our psyche and social interactions is that, once we’ve put the volume down and resumed our own life, we may attend to precisely those things the author would have responded to had he or she been in our company. […] Our attention will be drawn to the shades of the sky, to the changeability of a face, to the hypocrisy of a friend, or to a submerged sadness about a situation we had previously not even known we could feel sad about. The book will have sensitized us, stimulated our dormant antennae by evidence of its own developed sensitivity” (143).
The passage goes straight to the heart of how books work, of why they matter.
I also love Jay McInerney’s phrase, “beautiful minds,” Lionel Trilling’s “secular scriptures,” Harold Bloom’s “achieved ellipsis,” James Collins’s “wobbly figurine,” Rebecca Mead’s “Fantasy Dinner Party,” Amy Bloom’s “terrible Jane,” the lovely and sadly late Louis Auchincloss’s “good life”—and so on throughout the collection.
4. Did you disagree with any of the sentiments expressed by the contributing authors?
There is one truly dissenting voice, and if I were to disagree with any of the authors in the collection then it would be Kingsley Amis.
In “What Became of Jane Austen?” Amis calls Fanny Price, heroine of Mansfield Park, “a monster of complacency and pride” (127). The essay is important, however, for it helps us understand why subsequent essays on Mansfield Park so often defend it against the claims of priggish monstrosity.
5. Why do you continue to read Jane Austen? Why do you consider her works continue to speak to you (and us!) after a period of nearly 200 years?
Harold Bloom writes in How to Read and Why that “imaginative literature is otherness, and as such alleviates loneliness.” Austen’s works continue to resonate, I think, because they let us know that we’re not alone in the world. I find that the experience of reading Austen is at once personal—just me and a good book—but also communal in all sorts of ways. There’s the relationship with the characters, the relationship with the imagined author, and buzzing behind the book there are all the relationships with all the other readers out there. I won’t get to meet most of them, but one of the rewards of putting together this book is that I get to know lots and lots of other Janeites. Reading Jane Austen has shown me that reading isn’t an activity distinct from real life, but that it’s an experience capable of infusing all of life.
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I should like to thank Susannh for her very thoughtful replies to my questions, and wish her every success at the Festival.
If you are not able to visit the Festival in person but would like to follow events as they happen you can do so by following the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books here on Twitter. If any of my Readers do go, please do let us have your views on the Panel. We’d love to hear them.
Today’s post has nothing to do with Sandition, although Laurel’s really fascinating Group Read of Jane Austen’s fragment continues at Austenprose.
But it does concern a seaside resort of which Jane Austen was fond, Lyme Regis, and the Lyme Regis Philpot Musem’s attempt to publish a manuscript “epic” poem about the town written in 1819. Mary Godwin ,the museum’s curator, has very kindly supplied me with some images and quotes from the poem so that I can share news of their project with you here.
The Lyme Regis Philpot Museum has had in its collection since 1978, a manuscript which was given to the museum by the artist, Laurence Whistler.
Called The Lymiad, or Letters from Lyme to a friend in Bath by a Unknown Gentlewoman, the manuscript consists of a series of eight letters all written in verse, about the town of Lyme and it inhabitants as they were in 1819.
Each letter describes in turn, the streets and lodgings, the sea and beach, the civil war siege and Monmouth, the assembly room,; the mayor and worthies of the town, theatrically entitled, the dramatis personae
the surrounding scenery and bad weather; and, finally, departure from the resort. All of which would have been familiar to Jane Austen who visited the town in September 1804.
The writer John Fowles who in 1978 had just started his ten-year stewardship of the Museum as its Honorary Curator, was very intrigued by the new addition to the collection. After reading it he was so impressed with The Lymiad that he regarded it as among the Museum’s most precious possessions.
He liked it for its wit and satirical humour and its vivid evocation of the manners and pastimes of a small Regency seaside resort:
Say, is there not the mostly group among,
One generous bard, one gentle “child of song”
To celebrate thy wonders, matchless Lyme!,
In all the wild luxuriance of rhyme? …
Each letter in turn looks at at the streets and lodgings; the sea and beach; the civil war siege and Monmouth; the assembly rooms; the mayor and worthies; scenery and bad weather; and finally departure from the resort by the narrator.
The Lymiad contains many vivid portraits of local residents: for example in this extract The Lymeiad’s author probably refers to the geologist, Henry de la Beche’s sailing boat:
That “Blood-red flag” which gaily floats
On the full-swelling breeze, denotes
The Conrad Sir Fopling Fossil’s pride;…
He is the most accomplished youth,
That is, if Madame Fame speaks truth;
And more than this I cannot tell,
But some who know Sir Fopling well,
Inform me he’s a F.G.S.
During the 1980s John Fowles made a transcript of the poem, prepared a general introduction and made some explanatory notes on local references within it.
In 1997 the manuscript, which was on display in the Museum, came to the attention of Dr. John Constable, then Professor of English Literature in Kyoto University. During consultations with John Fowles over the next few years, Professor Constable studied the transcript and wrote a substantial introduction to it. He considers that The Lymiad is
“a highly political and a thoroughly Whig poem, with some leanings towards the left of that party, though stopping short of Radicalism itself.”
In this extract the author is poking fun at the fact that Lyme was a “rotten borough” in the control of the Fane family, the most senior member of that family being the Earl of Westmoreland:
Know then my friend, since last I wrote,
Here hath been pass’d a day of note,
When ‘tis the fashion to declare,
Who next shall be our worthy Mayor.
This day is honoured every year
By presence of a noble peer,…
The town of voters hath but few;
So few, that at th’Election last…
Th’Electors, and elected too,
In one horse chaise appear’d to view:
Sadly, John Fowles died in 2005 before any publication of the poem could be undertaken. But now the Lyme Museum has decided to ask for subscribers so that a first and fully annotated edition can be published.
The Museum has already secured some grants towards the cost of producing the book from charitable foundations and other donors, but in order to complete the task of publishing this manuscript they now need to attract 100 subscribers, who will pledge £20 per volume, and whose names will be recorded in the publication itself.
Once sufficient numbers of subscribers have been received the publication project will be able to be got underway.
If you go here you will find a form that can be copied, filled in and sent to the present curator of the Lyme museum, Mary Godwin (and she will even accept subscriptions made by copying and pasting the form in an email: I know because that how I subscribed) .
If you would like any more details of the publication her email address is
curator-at-lymeregismuseum-dot-co-dot-uk
replacing “at” and “dot” with the necessary to fool spammers 
The Lyme Regis Museum’s publication of The Lymiad will rather fittingly and touchingly be dedicated to John Fowles’s memory.
Do note that the new edition will not be a facsimile of the original manuscript. Instead, it is being cleverly designed to appear as it might have done in had it been published in 1819 .It will have stitched pages and marbled card covers .
I understand that the edition will contain an essay by John Fowles on Lyme in the early 1800s which he revised in 2003, a general introduction and textual notes by John Constable, a transcription of the text complete with editorial notes by John Fowles, John Constable and Jo Draper and that it will be illustrated with pictures from the Museum’s wonderful collection, which have also been selected by Jo Draper.
I have already subscribed because I am absolutely fascinated by the thought of reading an insider’s view of the place Jane Austen visited and liked so much that she ensured that pivotal scenes from Persuasion occurred there . And also because I adore this museum, and try visit it every time I visit Lyme.
I do hope that some of you may be sufficiently interested to subscribe to this fascinating pubication project too.
(Woodcut by Joan Hassell from The Folio Society’s Edition of Pride and Prejudice)
In Chapter 8 of Pride and Prejudice, we are given a small diatribe on the subject of what qualifies a woman to be deemed accomplished. Charles Bingley, declares that he thinks all young women are accomplished:
“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”
“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”
“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”
The more exacting Darcy pours scorn on his list of accomplishments:
“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”
Miss Bingley, hoping her fashionably expensive, seminary acquired education will allow her to belittle the home schooled-if we can all it that- Elizabeth Bennet ,weighs in:
“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”
And it is left to Darcy –who surely as such an acute observer, knows the only woman in the room with a book in her hand is Elizabeth Bennet – to pay her this ever so slight compliment, by emphasizing the intellectual requirements of true accomplishment:
“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”
This pity of it is all is that Elizabeth is already too prejudiced against Darcy to accept or even notice it; and, inevitably, she goes on the attack:
“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”
(Don’t worry-it all works out well in the end)
For many years the debate has continued to rage: was the “work” created by many genteel women of this era of any intellectual value? Or did Darcy’s view prevail, so that the ability to net a purse and cover a screen was not thought of being of any merit, and to call a women accomplished in these circumstances was rather over egging the pudding? In this revealing article by Amanda Vickery she contends that to see woman’s ”work” as a lesser achievement with no artistic or intellectual input and of lesser worth than the intellectual purists of men is to misunderstand it and them. I quite agree.
And the woman who was the subject of that article is someone who even the disdainful un-reconstructed Fitzwilliam Darcy would ,I submit have been forced to have called accomplished . Mrs Delany united a genteel women’s “work” with artistic and intellectual ability and scientific endeavor
The book Mrs. Delany and her Circle has been published by Yale to coincide with an exhibition that concentrates on her artistic and scientific endeavours, and which has been on view at The Centre for British Art in the US, and is now on view at the Sir John Soane’s Museum, London. I am hoping to get there to see later in the year, but in the meantime I wanted to review this and one more book on the subject of Mrs Delany.
First, a little background information. Mrs. Delaney lived almost the length of the 18th century; born in 1700 she died in 1788 Well connected she was no doubt a conventional accomplished woman, but had a keen intellect which raised her “work” to new levels of artistic ability and scientific truth.
Her first marriage to Alexander Pendarves was unhappy but ended in 1725 with the unexpected death of her restrictive and jealous husband. Her widowhood in London was a happier time in her life and many of her most important friendships were cemented in this period, especially that with Margaret, Duchess of Portland. The great collection of letters to these friends, and to her mother and sister to which I will refer below, began during her widowhood.
Her second marriage was much happier in all ways than her first and gave her much intellectual freedom and stimulation. The entry on Mrs Delany in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography records it thus:
In 1731 Pendarves joined her friend Anne Donnellan, the daughter of Nehemiah Donnellan, chief baron of the Irish exchequer, in Ireland for a visit of eighteen months. They were widely entertained in Dublin and the country and introduced to most of Anglo-Irish society. Pendarves met Jonathan Swift, with whom she afterwards corresponded. More important was her meeting with Patrick Delany an Anglican cleric. The two were clearly attracted to each other, but he was already engaged to a rich widow, whom he married in 1732. In 1743, after his wife’s death, Delany went to England to propose to Pendarves. Her male relations opposed the match, for Delany had neither fortune nor gentle birth. But she ignored these protests, and the marriage took place in London in early June 1743.
(Silhouette by Mrs Delany)
After her husband’s death in 1768, she lived mostly with her great friend the Duchess of Portland:
Mary Delany returned to London, and lived first at Thatched House Court and then at St James’s Place. She spent most summers at Bulstrode in Buckinghamshire, the favourite country house of the duchess of Portland. There the friends improved the gardens, collected shells and botanical specimens, indulged in various arts and crafts, and entertained poets, scientists, theologians, friends, and royalty. It was there in 1774 that Delany began what she called her paper mosaics, the cut-paper illustrations of flowers and plants that were her most important artistic achievement. Using various shadings of coloured tissue, she cut freehand all the parts of the plant, which were then pasted on black paper to make a perfect specimen. Nearly a thousand pages of her Hortus siccus were completed by 1784, when she had to give up the work because of failing eyesight; these are now in the department of prints and drawings at the British Museum.
The book, Mrs Delany and her Circle, concentrates on her stunning accomplishments and is peppered throughout with stunning examples of her work
Her needlework is of the highest technical ability :
(Please do click on these illustrations to enlarge them-the detail is amazing)
But for me the most important thing to note however is the fact that she is not fanciful in her designs. The flowers-roses, hollyhocks, auriculas, sweet peas etc., etc., are all botanically correct.
This close up of a thistle being strangled prettily by a convolvulus is a tour de force
She continued with her artistic endeavors throughout her life, but in 1772 -when suffering from failing eyesight-she invented a new form of recording botanical samples with her paper mosaics. The craze for natural science was fuelled by the introductions of previously unseen/unknown plants from newly conquered lands. Her interest in botany reflected this development in science. That she used her artistic talents to capture these specimens for posterity is not I think to be derided.
The book is superbly illustrated with many, many examples of her mosaics and embroideries ( plus her drawings )
Here are a few of them for you to enjoy:
On visits to Bulstrode-the home of the Duchess of Portland- King George III and Queen Charlotte were introduced to Mrs Delany and were very impressed with her- her abilities, accomplishments and character – so that they made her many presents including this exquisitely embroidered pocket book and its contents:
On their suggestion Sir Joseph Banks of Kew sent specimens of rare plants to Mrs Delany to enable her to capture the intricate details of these plants in the most accurate form.
After the Duchess of Portland died in 1785, King George II gave Mrs Delany a house at Windsor and a pension of £300. She enjoyed her last years as a royal favourite, and died at Windsor Castle, probably of pneumonia, on 15 April 1788. She was buried at St James’s, Piccadilly.
This book is, to be frank a bargain : it is fabulously illustrated and the essays within on Mrs Delany’s life and art are well written readable and comprehensive. They even include a details analysis of the process of making the mosaics and there is a section with set by step photographs should you want to try to recreate them…
…..perhaps not.
The next book on Mrs Delay I wanted to review is by my good friend Katherine Cahill, Mrs Delany’s Menus, Medicines and Manners
This is a very good companion volume to the exhibition volume, concentrating on Mrs Delany’s life and interests as expressed in her letters.Her copious correspondence to her family and friends was first edited and published in six volumes in 1861-2 by Lady Llanover, and these are now difficult to find (and if you manage that feat, they are expensive to buy)
Katherine Cahill’s book expertly summarises all aspects of the correspondence and Mrs Delany’s life as recorded in the letters : her homes, interior decoration, her advice regarding food, servants, medicine and her clothes. All these important aspects of her life are expertly explained for a 21st century reader and are clearly addressed in this slim and very affordable volume: it is a treasure. Sadly its few illustrations are in black and white only: but if you posses both these books you will have the best of both worlds and a tremendous insight into the life of a very interesting woman of the 18th century
So there you are, two books on the life and achievements of a very accomplished woman. I highly recommend both to you.
but not the Deirdre Le Faye edition…..the Brabourne edition;-)
This may initially appear to you as a strange thing to include in a book review, a set of books that have been out of print for over 100 years…but wait …you well probably be as surprised and pleased as I was to discover that Cambridge University Press have recently taken on the concept of print-on-demand books and have made it into something that has the potential to be very special indeed.
They are re-issuing scholarly out of print books from the unimaginably wide range of books in their libraries.
The edition of Jane Austen’s letters edited by Jane Austen’s nephew, Lord Brabourne, is among the first digitally reprinted books to be issued in the new series –The Cambridge Library Collection
It comes in the form of two very reasonably priced volumes, both in paperback editions.
They are facsimiles of the original books, first published in 1884 by Richard Bentley and Son.
The originals have become so expensive that I have long since put my reasonably-priced-when-bought-all those- years-ago volumes on The Not To Be Touched Shelf.
So now I am pleased to own these two volumes in this accessible form so that I can examine them once again without fear of breaking the spine, spilling tea over them or otherwise damaging them in my usual klutzy way.
This Brabourne collection is, of course, available on-line, and has been superseded by the Le Faye Edition, but it still has some merits, the introductions by Lord Barbourne and interesting family documents etc, and there is a charm in examining the first proper selection of Jane Austen’s letters in its original form. Especially when the original volumes are now so scarce and…so ruinously and hideously expensive. And despite, or rather because of being a fond Kindle owner, I find I do like to hold a book in my hands, rather than read one on line, especially if I’m doing it for prolonged periods of time. So this re-issue is wonderful.
My only gripe is that the two illustrations in the books are quite fuzzy and indistinct.
The portrait supposedly of Jane Austen as a child, commonly known as The Rice Portrait ,
is rendered (as in the original books) in black and white but as you can see, below, this version is very blurred :
The view of Godmersham from The History and Topographical Survey of the County of Kent: Volume 7 (1798) by Edward Hasted in Volume II of the letters is also not particularly clear…
…especially if you compare it with the original print , of which I have a copy
However this is nitpicking on my part, a minor quibble. It is the text that is important and these books deliver it in a perfectly legible way.
The Cambridge University Press have only just begun to reissue many titles on many subjects in this series. Follow this link here to read a general introduction, and this link here gives the current list, subject by subject
Below is a very lovely and informative video of the whole process-accompanied by heavenly music by William Byrd sung by the choir of Girton College. Just click on it to play….
I love the idea that they are open to suggestions for further reprints and I am compiling a list with a few suggestions. Their own collection of books must be mind bogglingly immense, but if you suggest a title of merit that they do not own or is not out of copyright but out of print ,they will attempt to pursue the matter and try to produce their own edition of the books.
As someone whose ancestor was John Baskerville, who was commissioned to print books for Cambridge University in the 18th century, I have always had an affection for the CUP. I can only laud this whole process, and urge you to take advantage of this opportunity to own your own copies of hard to find and sometimes impossibly expensive texts.
Sophie Croft is possibly my favourite of all Jane Austen’s female characters. Intelligent, kind, shewd, witty and self sufficient(as long as she is near the Admiral).
Mrs. Croft, though neither tall nor fat, had a squareness, uprightness, and vigour of form, which gave importance to her person. She had bright dark eyes, good teeth, and altogether an agreeable face; though her reddened and weather-beaten complexion, the consequence of her having been almost as much at sea as her husband, made her seem to have lived some years longer in the world than her real eight-and-thirty. Her manners were open, easy, and decided, like one who had no distrust of herself, and no doubts of what to do; without any approach to coarseness, however, or any want of good humour.
Pesruasion,Chapter 6
She is very much part of the Admiral’s world and their relationship is one of the most balanced and loving in all Jane Austens works:
The Crofts knew quite as many people in Bath as they wished for, and considered their intercourse with the Elliots as a mere matter of form, and not in the least likely to afford them any pleasure. They brought with them their country habit of being almost always together. He was ordered to walk to keep off the gout, and Mrs. Croft seemed to go shares with him in everything, and to walk for her life to do him good. Anne saw them wherever she went. Lady Russell took her out in her carriage almost every morning, and she never failed to think of them, and never failed to see them. Knowing their feelings as she did, it was a most attractive picture of happiness to her. She always watched them as long as she could, delighted to fancy she understood what they might be talking of, as they walked along in happy independence, or equally delighted to see the Admiral’s hearty shake of the hand when he encountered an old friend, and observe their eagerness of conversation when occasionally forming into a little knot of the navy, Mrs. Croft looking as intelligent and keen as any of the officers around her.
Persuasion Chapter 18
And of course, Mrs Croft is the most travelled of any of Jane Austen’s female characters:
“What a great traveller you must have been, ma’am!” said Mrs. Musgrove to Mrs. Croft.
“Pretty well, ma’am, in the fifteen years of my marriage; though many women have done more. I have crossed the Atlantic four times, and have been once to the East Indies and back again, and only once; besides being in different places about home: Cork, and Lisbon, and Gibraltar. But I never went beyond the Streights, and never was in the West Indies. We do not call Bermuda or Bahama, you know, the West Indies.”
Persuasion Chapter 8
(Map of the East Indies circa 1805 from my collection, not included in the book. Please click to enlarge it)
And it is her travels that interest me, for this recently published book, Birds of Passage edited by Nancy K Shields, details just the type of journeying Mrs Corft would have undertaken when she traveled to the East Indies, via the cape of Good Hope. I have been waiting since Christmas for the oportunity to tell you of this book. I thought today was perfect timing with the airing of Persuasion on PSB tonight.
Birds of Passage records the journey to India made by Lady Henrietta Clive- seen on the cover of the book, above as portrayed by Sir Joshua Reynolds- and her two daughters, Harry (Hernitetta) and Charly (Charlotte). She was married to Lord Edward Clive, son of Clive of India. Lord Edward was Governor of Madras. Accompanying them on their journey was the children’s governess, Anna Tonelli, and her paintings of the places they encountered on the whole expedition illustrate this book.
This is one of the Government House and Council Chamber in Madras.
The book consists of extracts from Lady Henrietta’s diaries and letters written to her brother, Geroge Herbert, second Earl of Powis, a rather Byronic figure. Extracts from Charly’s journals are also presented. They detail the journeys to and from the East Indies, stopping at the Cape of Good Hope en-route, and at St Helena on the return journey to England.
(Simon’s Bay, the Cape of Good Hope)
When in India Lady Henrietta and her children made a journey of over 1000 miles from Madras via Bangalore, Mysore, Coimatoor,Tranquebar and Ponidcherry, returning to Madras seven months later. Her aim was to see the recently conquered Seringapatam and the remains of Tipu Sultan’s capital – the fall of which was part of the foruth Anglo-Mysore cmpaagin. In 1799 the English Army had attacked Seringapatam. Lady Henrietta’s original plans to vist Seringupatam were postponed by Lord Mornington- Wellington’s brother, and the Governor General of India-a difficult character by Lady Hernietta’s account.
The journals are chock full of interest for those of us who like the teeny-tiny details of life in the early 19th century, and are of extra special interest to those of us who adore Mrs Croft, for naturally Lady Henrietta chronicles many of the sights, sounds and experiences that Mrs Corft must have shared.
The book recounts, in some great detail, life on board ship-sadly unlike Mrs Croft Lady Henrietta never felt entirely well while at sea. We accompany her while she learns Persian(the language of the India Courts) and she frequently expresses her exasperation with the limited role that women could play in this and indeed the wider world, dominated by men.
We learn from the journals what was considered to be essential travelling equipment in India for an aristocratic party: harp and pianoforte of course; fourteen elephants; a hundred bullocks to carry provisions and, not forgetting a train of camels which were essential for the delivery of express messages.
The trials if family and domestic life is also related. Unlike Sophie Croft, Lady Henrietta’s marriage was not entirely happy. Lord Edward Clive was not at all lively and was a poor intellectual match for his spirited wife. As Wellington noted-he was also part of their world in India, leading the British Army’s campaign against Tipu Sultan- Lord Edward was :
A mild moderate and remarkably reserved man having a bad delivery and apparently heavy understanding…
We learn of Lady Hernitta’s maid becoming pregnant as a result of a dalliance with an officer and discretion is the key: mother and prospective child are treated with utmost kindness, a way life for them both being provided by Henrietta, and discretion at home in England being insisted upon by Henrietta to save the poor girl’s reputation. She thinks very ill of the officer involved indeed.
She was, of course, viewing India from the standpoint of 18th century British colonialists: this is not a treatise on the Indian way of life, but notes of the lives of British in India. She was interested in the people, the flora and fauna, their religion and language but clearly on her terms. In no way did she “go native” as you can see from this small extract:
March 16th 1800
We breakfasted in the commanding officer’s fort -house..I went at seven o’clock to the fort and an old pagoda, magnificent and well carved, constructed of granite now converted into a military storehouse. The sculpture is much better than any I have yet seen, some of the open work is extremely neat and well executed…I breakfasted at the commanding officer’s house and afterwards the Princes came to see me…The Padshaw begin a legitimate son is extremely interesting. I understand that Col Wellesley was much pleased with his manners in Seringapatam….
(Map of India circa 1815 from my collection)
That being said, I adored this book, and was grateful for the glossary explaining the Indian words Lady Henrietta used often. If anything is lacking I would say it is some more explanatory footnotes…but then I’ve been thoroughly spoiled by the extreme notation of the excellent Deirdre le Faye;-)
This book is a bargain. Buy it and revel in the fascinating details with which Lady Henrietta regales us: of the plants she collects and sees, the travails of travel by sea-leaks, mutinies, prize taking-all are recounted here; the strangeness of travel within India itself; the social life of the British at the Cape and in India all of which would have been familiar to my favourite Austen lady, Sophie Croft.
You may have realised by now that I like to know the teeny-tiny details of social history…How exactly did people make a whipp’t syllabub ? What exactly did having a putrid throat mean? How was it treated? The list is endless…Hence this blog.
But I confess that until I read Dr Helen Doe’s fascinating book Enterprising Women and Shipping in the Nineteenth Century, I had not really given a second thought to how the ships on which Captains Benwick, Wentworth and Harville ( not to mention Admiral Croft) sailed to war were actually created. And not for one moment did I consider that among the shipyard owners would be some amazing women who were not only owning the yards but were hands-on running some of the ship yards that created the British naval fleet of the early 19th century, managing complex business scenarios, and importantly, ordering labouring and professional men.
Dr Doe’s book is a tour de force. A very readable and detailed overview of the ship making process, the communities that surrounded the shipyards, the law relating to women- most of the female owner of ship yards inherited them from their husbands, ancillary maritime trades and the women who were involved in them.
The book does cover the whole of the 19th century and therefore a lot of the content, while of great interest, does not specifically have much relevance to Jane Austen’s era. But the chapters on warship builders and the detailed studies of shipyard owners such as Mrs Frances Barnard of Deptford are engrossing.
(Remember you can click on the picture above- not included in the book,sadly-and all the illustrations in this post to enlarge them.)
The story of Mrs Mary Ross of Rochester, Kent (below) is, to me, a revelation.
The most prominent business in a maritime community was the shipyard. It was physically large, noisy and used a large amount of labour and on its output rested may other businesses such as sailmakers, ropemakers and blockmakers. The largest yards were major industrial concerns in their time directly employing hundreds of men…The building of warships was high value and high risk to the shipbuilder and the peak time for navy contracts with merchant yards was during the French revolutionary and the Napoleonic wars.
Frances Barnard inherited her shipyard form her husband in 1760,and it was one of the foremost yards on the Thames at Southwark. She eventually retired from the business in 1803. Mary Ross inherited her ship yard from her husband in 1808. Mary took control of the yard, showing amazing business acumen and skill. Dealing with the rather slippery Navy Board could be difficult: she managed it with aplomb.
This book will alter your perceptions of genteel women in our era. Once widowed they resolved not to live the life of a poor dependant widow ,but with practical sense and intelligence ran shipyards- for profit. Rational creatures indeed.
Admittedly, this is a very expensive book, but I have to say as someone who is not that keen on reading about matters maritime ( low be it spoken), I found it fascinating. The depth of detail is so just so satisfying to read. Dr Doe, a Fellow of the Centre for Maritime Historical Studies at the University of Exeter, leaves virtually no stone unturned in her attempt to convey to us that, in our era, the term a woman in business did not automatically mean that this woman was a milliner or a manuta maker.
So , now we know what the structure of General Tinley’s kitchen at Northanger might have resembled….we really ought to consider what modern gadgets the General might have in his deceptively ancient kitchen…no turnspit dogs or crones tending spits of roasting meats, that is certain.
No, he had a full staff- I love the image of footmen slinking around corridors,out of their livery….
The number of servants continually appearing did not strike her less than the number of their offices. Wherever they went, some pattened girl stopped to curtsy, or some footman in dishabille sneaked off.
So..what wonderful devices would these staff be using in this very busy kitchen(for woe betide any meals being served late in this particular household)…Let’s see…
He would most probably have installed an up to the minute range oven. Though they are often thought of as being essential items in a Victorian kitchen, cast iron ranges were in fact innovations of the Georgian period.
They really needed coal to fuel them- wood or turf burned on open hearths. And it wasn’t until the development of the railway system in Britain in the 1840s that the use of cast iron ranges –large or small- became widespread with the easy availability of coal, which was then easily transported about the whole country.
This is the trade card of Underwood and Co, who were ironmongers in Bristol from 1812 to 1828, and so might have supplied the General with his ovens at Northanger, which was situated in the nearby Severn estuary plains of Gloucestershire. They operated from Charles Street which at the time contained some of Bristol’s finest shops.
The kitchen grate they illustrate here has a hot plate on the right and a perpetual oven on the left. The advert also shows smoke jacks-which did away with the necessity for scullions or dogs turning the spit- roasted meat. These kitchen ranges were capable of generating great heat,and were designed to undertake the task of boiling and roasting. The original ranges, dating from the late 18th century had no provision for delicate cooking -making sauces or simmering- and eventually a stewing stove was introduced combining a kitchen gratw with ovens in order to have all the elements one needed to cook in one place.
John Farley in his book The General View of Agriculture in Derbyshire (1813) wrote of the history of the development of range cookers as follows:
About the year 1778 cast iron ovens began to be made at the Griffin Foundry now Messrs Ebenezer Smith and Company and to be set by the side of the grates at the public houses and some farm houses as to be heated by the fire in the grate when a small damper in the flue is drawn and about ten years after square iron boilers with lids were introduced to be set at the end of a fire grate and these have spread so amazingly that there is scare a house without these even of cottage of the first class…
Thomas Robinson patented a range in 1780 and it looked like this:
As you can see the closed oven was heated by the fire burning around one of its walls. This made for a very uneven heat,and this fault was not effectively remedied until the second quarter of the 19th century.
So what could the General’s oven range have looked like? Would it have resembled one of these above?
I wonder….
Now we know, for Jane Austen tells us, that the General was a fan of Count Rumford’s inventions. We are told that instead of seeing massive open hearths in the drawing-room, the view that struck Catherine’s Morland’s disappointed eyes was a Rumford fireplace:
An abbey! Yes, it was delightful to be really in an abbey! But she doubted, as she looked round the room, whether anything within her observation would have given her the consciousness. The furniture was in all the profusion and elegance of modern taste. The fireplace, where she had expected the ample width and ponderous carving of former times, was contracted to a Rumford, with slabs of plain though handsome marble, and ornaments over it of the prettiest English china.
Northanger Abbey, Chapter 20
What she saw was a Rumford hearth. Here is a caricature of Count Rumford standing before one of his fireplaces,which made more economic use of fuel-the heat as you can see was directed into the room and did not dissipate into a large hearth and up to the chimney:
America- born Benjamin Thompson, Count von Rumford, lived from 1753-1814. He not only invented this efficient fireplace, but also in his book, Essays Political Economical and Philosophical (1802) he wrote about many topics and the tenth essay deals with the Construction of Kitchen Fireplaces and Kitchen Utensils.
He was of the opinion that each cooking vessel should have its own separate closed fireplace, the door , its grate and ash-pit should be fitted with a draught controlling register and its flue with a damper. Fireplaces over 8 to 10 inches in diameter should be fueled from openings just above the level of the grate , smaller ones being fed from the top. Portable boilers and stew pans should be circular and suspended deep inside the fireplace . All boilers or stew pans should have well insulated lids preferably of double tinplate construction.
Here is an engraving of his patent kitchen stove,
(Do remember all these illustrations can be enlarged: just click on them)
And this is a clearer drawing of it:
The principle behind this strange looking contraption was that by finely controlling the fires, food could be cooked at just under boiling point- thereby making the food tender, juicy and more flavoursome than conventional ranges which could dry out the meat etc. .His stove also was very economical with regard to fuel-for the boilers and stew pans were completely sunk within their fireplaces, thus not much heat escaped ,and all as used effectivley.
These stove were as you can see very complex to operate. There were a total of fourteen individual fires which of course meant that there were fourteen draught controls, fourteen individual cooking vessels and 14 dampers to oversee. And that was probably their downfall for by 1840 they were quite forgotten. They were sold from 1799 by a Mr Sumner, an ironmonger, of New Bond Street London. And he installed one of these fantastical ranges in his own kitchen there, where it could be seen in action by prospective customers. Shades of modern Aga showrooms….
He sold 260 of these ovens,and similar success was reported by outlets for the stoves in Edinburgh and provincal cities. But by the mid 19th century, they had completely fallen out of favour.
So that could be what General Tilney’s stove looked like….I pity the poor harassed cook, frankly, working in the heat and under the stress of being on time-for the General certainly loved punctuality.
So what else would the General have had in his up to the minute kitchen?
I have to include this illustration of an early 19th century plate warmer: I think it is fabulous:
I do hope the General had at least one of these
I love the fact that by mentioning Rumfords- with the possibility of not only the Count’s fireplaces but his stoves being in use at Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen agains demonstrates to us just how to the minute she was.
If you would like to read more about innovations in the early 19th century kitchen and more of the type of gadgets the General may have had in his kitchen than I can do no better than recommend this book, from where some of the information for this post has been taken: Over A Red Hot Stove ,edited by Ivan Day and published by Prospect Books.
This is a fascinating collection of essays based on papers presented at the 19th and 20th Leeds Symposia on FoodHistory held between 2004 and 2005. It is quite technical and intricate and probably only for the food history obsessive like myself, but if you want to learn in great detail about the development of kitchen ranges, Ox roasts, the massive roast beef prepared at Windsor Castle, the history of clockwork jacks and how to bake in a beehive oven, then this book is for you.
If I understand you rightly, you had formed a surmise of such horror as I have hardly words to — Dear Miss Morland, consider the dreadful nature of the suspicions you have entertained. What have you been judging from? Remember the country and the age in which we live. Remember that we are English, that we are Christians. Consult your own understanding, your own sense of the probable, your own observation of what is passing around you. Does our education prepare us for such atrocities? Do our laws connive at them? Could they be perpetrated without being known, in a country like this, where social and literary intercourse is on such a footing, where every man is surrounded by a neighbourhood of voluntary spies, and where roads and newspapers lay everything open? Dearest Miss Morland, what ideas have you been admitting?
Northanger Abbey, Chapter 24
(The fateful moment in Chapter 24 as illustrated by Joan Hassell for the
Folio Society’s edition of the Complete Works of Jane Austen)
And so with words of wisdom and not a little exasperation Henry Tilney neatly skewers Catherine Morland’s fervid imaginings, the result of letting her imagination run wild, fueled as it was with the influence of the Gothic romances of the time:
Oh! I would not tell you what is behind the black veil for the world! Are not you wild to know?”
“Oh! Yes, quite; what can it be? But do not tell me — I would not be told upon any account. I know it must be a skeleton, I am sure it is Laurentina’s skeleton. Oh! I am delighted with the book! I should like to spend my whole life in reading it. I assure you, if it had not been to meet you, I would not have come away from it for all the world.”
“Dear creature! How much I am obliged to you; and when you have finished Udolpho, we will read the Italian together; and I have made out a list of ten or twelve more of the same kind for you.”
“Have you, indeed! How glad I am! What are they all?”
“I will read you their names directly; here they are, in my pocketbook. Castle of Wolfenbach, Clermont, Mysterious Warnings, Necromancer of the Black Forest, Midnight Bell, Orphan of the Rhine, and Horrid Mysteries. Those will last us some time.”
“Yes, pretty well; but are they all horrid, are you sure they are all horrid?”
Northanger Abbey, Chapter 6
The craze for gothic literature, as depicted rather affectionately but ultimately scornfully by Jane Austen in Northanger Abbey was of course only one side of that particular coin.
The craze was reflected in art of the period too.
Today we really find it difficult I think to realise why the reaction to the Gothic then was so extreme. I think it might be helpful to look at one picture which is representative of the genre and its story , for it helps explain some of the attitudes of the late 18th early 19th century towards these novels/pictures.
One of the most shocking of all the Gothic images was this picture by Henry Fuseli, The Nightmare,
which was exhibited at the Royal Academy Summer Show of 1782.
Henry Fuseli – portrayed below by James Northcote in 1778- was an artist who had no formal art education.
Born in Zürich in 1741 and originally destined for a career in the church he took Holy Orders in 1761 He then travelled to England in 1765 and on the advice of Sir Joshua Reynolds decided to make art his career. He made a tour of Italy to study the art and classical ruins and returned to England in 1778.
Among the usual fare of the exhibition- landscapes and portraits- this picture certainly stood out from the others, even those with a Gothic tinge like this one by Phillip de Loutherberg, the artist and theatrical designer,
The Nightmare ,as you can clearly see above, portrays a young girl sleeping with an incubus squatting down on her abdomen, looking out of the painting towards the viewer, together with a spectral horse’s head, complete with bulging white eyes.
Horace Walpole, author of the first gothic novel The Castel of Otranto( more on this later) summed up his feeling on this picture quite succinctly by adding this word alongside the description of the picture in his copy of the catalogue of the exhibition
Shocking.
Debate began as to what exactly Fuseli was actually painting: a scene from literature? Something inspired by a scene from Shakespeare- Queen Mab/Romeo and Juliet? Or, horrors, something from his own imagination meant to provoke feelings of revulsion in the audience ?
The proper view to then taken upon artistic subjects was that it was acceptable to paint and create works of art that evoked extremes of feeling-such as terror, for example- but not to create works of art that evoked feelings of horror or disgust. There the line was drawn in the sand. This picture to the late 18th century eye, crossed that particular line.
The debate about the merits of the picture was carried out in the press, notably the Morning Chronicle and of course this fuelled interest in this uneasy picture.
After the debate began , visitors figures to the Royal Academy show rose. The first pieces about the painting appeared in the Morning Chronicle on May 8th.
On May 9th, the day after the first of the Morning Chronicles pieces about the painting 2 713 people were recorded as having visited the exhibition (the average daily intake of people was 1782.) The final day attracted 5085 crowding to see it.
There is no doubt that this picture created a sensation.
It became very popular as a print. It is thought that over 2000 engravings were made initially of the painting in 1783,and sold for five shillings each. A pirate edition as issued in Paris. New authorised editions were issued from 1803 onwards, and eventually its fame spread,via the distribution of the prints across Europe and into America, far and wide.
Attacks were made on it, especially after the connection between the picture and its probable subject matter -sex- was made.
The Reverend Robert Bromley Rector of St Mildred’s in the Poultry, raised the moral standard and set to to attack a picture, which appeared to him to vary from the norm most spectacularly because it appeared to have no moral, instructive or educational foundation :
The dignity of moral instruction is degraded whenever the pencil is employed on frivolous whimsical and unmeaning subjects…The Nightmare…or any dream that is not marked in authentic history as combined with the inspiring dispensations of Providence and many other pieces of a visionary and fanciful nature, are speculators…if it be right to follow Nature, there is nothing of her here, all that is presented is a reverie of the brain…mere waking dreams as wild as the conceits of a madman
( See: A Philosophical and Critical History of the Fine Arts Painting Sculpture and Architecture, 1793).
Fuseli tried to defend himself and devoted a whole Royal Academy lecture on painting to the theme of invented subjects, asking the audience to question why it was not considered acceptable to paint subjects coined from the imagination, and not from reference to nature, or literature:
Why not if the subject be within the limits of art and the combinations of nature, though it should have escaped observation? Shall the immediate avenues of the mind, open to all observers from the poet to the novelist be shut only to the artist…for if these images so pursue us when our minds are in a kind of waking dream and all this with an air of unreality why , should we not turn to use this vice of the mind?
The debate surrounding this picture still continued into the 20th and 21st centuries.
And of course, all this debate around art, explains some of the responses to the Gothic literature of the time. It was different (and possibly thought of as dangerous by morlalists) because it evoked feelings in the reader that are not associated with the Classics, with Shakespeare etc.
It was( and is, in some ways ) slightly daring to read these books and to contemplate this type of art……Which makes this type of literature perfect fodder for impressionable teenagers. Which Jane Austen knew well. Or as in this print by James Gillray shows, has attractions for mature ladies who should know better than to give themselves thrills by reading The Monk late at night by candlelight
No wonder Jane Austen wrote her cautionary tale If you would like to read more on this subject, then I can reccommend looking at the catalogue to a Tate Gallery exhibition about it entitled Gothic Nightmares
Sadly, it appears now to be out of print and the few copies available are consequently ferociously expensive.
A much cheaper alternative is to view the on-line exhibit that accompanied the original exhibition, which was held at Tate Brtiain in 20o6 and is still -praise be- available at the Tate’s website here..
Do you dare do it?
This is a very interesting book, written by Doctor SusannaWade Martins of the University of East Anglia.
Throughout her career she has studied the Holkham estate in some detail, and therefor it is highly appropriate that she has written the first biography of Thomas Coke-Coke of Norfolk-in over a hundred years.
And it is of interest to anyone who has read Jane Austen’s books and has wondered what exactly did Mr knightly do? How would Elizabeth and Darcy have spent their time at Pemberley? What was Darcy’s life like before he met Elizabeth? What should Henry Crawford have been doing at this estate at Everingham?
I know from my experience in the past ten years with online Austen communities that speculation about these pressing questions continues apace amongst those of us who are interested in these characters and their lives.
Reading this book will , in my opinion give you one of the best impressions of the type of life they might have led, in one single, very readable, affordable volume.
Now, do note, I am certainly not arguing that Coke of Norfolk was the basis for any of Jane Austen’s landowning charcters.What I am saying is that reading this book will give a good over view of the type of life these characters may have led on their estates in the English countryside,and instead of trawling though many varied books to try an understand just what that life was like , you can now purchase this one volume as a starting point and be very well served by it.
Thomas Coke inherited, in 1776, the great Holkham estate with as its magnificent centre piece of this Palladian mansion, designed by Matthew Brettingham
It was in wonderful heart. He continued to improve it and the conditions of his tenant farms, wanting to encourage gentlemen into the profession to raise standards of his tenantry and consequently of his farms and stock. The detail of how this improvement was achieved- by buildings, lease terms etc- is chronicled in a clear and very readable manner by Doctor Matins,
Prior to inheriting, Coke he lived the life of an upper class gentleman, being educated on a Grand Tour
Here he is, above, as depicted by Pompeo Batoni while in Rome.
And then he entered politics. He was a Whig supporter all his life and was vociferously opposed to the war with America ,talking the side of the colonists. He also supported the abolition of the slave trade, the emancipation of Catholics and parliamentary reform.
Here is his political map of Norfolk drawn up for Coke by Humphrey Repton-also from Norfolk- who was a parliamentary agent prior to gaining fame-and mentions in Mansfield Park- as the first “landscape designer’.It was designed and commissioned to show the extent of political interest of both the Tory and Whig parties in Norfolk:
This book covers his personal life as well as his political life and there it is of great interest to those of us who wonder how Darcy and Elizabeth would have organised their domestic life at Pemberley. Family life for the Cokes was concentrated mainly around Holkham and the orgnaisiation of the domestic life of the house was firmly in the hands of many capable women-namely Cokes first wife and his daughter who took over the domestic reigns on her mother’s death. Doctor Martins gives a detailed account of estate life from the point of view of the women in the family and it makes for very interesting reading.
I can highly recommend it for anyone interested in the lives of the upper classes of this period.
For a more detailed examination of the organisation and development of such a large estate, then I can recommend anther book by Doctor Martins:
A Great Estate at Work is a fascinating book, the result of Doctor Martin’s work for her Phd thesis.She was granted access to the Holkham Archive and the result is a fabulously detailed book chronicling the development of the estate from 1776-1860. Obvoiulsy this covers more than the period about which Jane Austen wrote, but it is a great help to read it in order to set in context the improvements of the agrarian revolution and how they panned out later in the 19th century.
In the same vein this book,above, The English Model Farm again by Doctor Martins is rather on the specialised side , but is fascinating, showing how landlord were able to develop the ideal farming conditions, if they were sufficiently interested and motivated during the period 1700-1914. I am afriad it now appears to be out of print,but for anyone seriously interested in the development of farm bulings etc during this period I can highly reccommend it.
For those of you interested in the social effects of the agrarian revolution, for example, the social distress caused by enclosing the land , then I can recommend this book by another member of staff at the University of East Anglia: Professor Tom Wilkinson.
The Transformation of Rural England is a fascinating book for in great detail, it chronicles the impact of the improvements in agriculture and the changes in the usage of the land as a result. In addition it deals with the physical effect on the landscape and the social consequences of these improvements. I highly recommend it,but it is rather technical and detailed, and I would only recommend purchasing it to those of us who are serious students of the subject.
But for a good and comprehensive view of the type of improvements that someone like Mr Knightley might have made and the type of life he and Darcy might have lead I can think of no better introduction than Susanna Wade Martins book on Thomas Coke. And as it is soon to be released in paperback form at a very reasonable price :got to it,say I !
Inevitable I suppose, given Mr Woodhouse’s preference for plain cooking….and Emma’s charitable impulses, but let’s delve into this subject today, shall we?
First, food for invalids.
For a good indicator of the type of food recommended for weak stomachs in this era we can do little better than to look to the advice our old friend Mrs Rundell for her wise advice.
In her book, A New System of Domestic Cookery formed upon Principals of Economy and adapted to the use of Private Families by a Lady a whole chapter is devoted to this type of cooking:
Cookery for the Sick and for the Poor.
In her introduction to the chapter, she sets out her sensible approach to this subject:
The following pages will contain cookery for the sick; it being of more consequence to support those whose bad appetite will not allow them to take the necessary nourishment , thus to stimulate that of persons in health.
It may not be necessary to advise, that a choice be made of the things most likely to agree with the patient; that a change be provided; that some one at least be always ready; that not too much of those be made at once, which are not likely to keep ,as invalids require variety; and that they should succeed each other in forms and flavours.
Jane Austen was obviously very familiar with this type of food for the advice doled out by Emma and Mr Woodhouse in the book neatly coincides with that given by Mrs Rundell.
Here is her recipe for Water Gruel:
Put a large spoonful of oatmeal by degrees into a pint of water, and when smooth boil it.
Another way- Rub smooth a large spoonful of oatmeal, with two of water and our it quick; but take care it does not boil over. In a quarter of an hour strain it off: and add salt and a bit of butter when eaten. Stir until the butter be incorporated.
And here are her recipes for preparing eggs:
Mr Woodhouse would no doubt approve:
“Mrs. Bates, let me propose your venturing on one of these eggs. An egg boiled very soft is not unwholesome. Serle understands boiling an egg better than any body. I would not recommend an egg boiled by any body else — but you need not be afraid — they are very small, you see — one of our small eggs will not hurt you…
Emma, Chapter 3
She makes this point about cooks, proving what a treasure Mr Woodhouse has in Serle:
..in many houses a good sick cook is rarely met with: and many who possess all the goods of fortune have attributed the first return of health to an appetite excited by good kitchen psychics as it is called.
Her remaks on providing food for the poor as also very revealing:
Emma, to give her her due, clearly knows a lot about the practicalities of food, and her knowledge is demonstrated in her gift of pork to the Bates.
Emma is often thought of as a spoiled little rich girl with an empty head and list of unread books. But, in her defence, Emma knew exactly how the different cuts of pork should be cooked and what woud be of use to the less prosperous characters in Highbury:
“It is a great pity that their circumstances should be so confined! a great pity indeed! and I have often wished — but it is so little one can venture to do — small, trifling presents, of any thing uncommon — Now we have killed a porker, and Emma thinks of sending them a loin or a leg; it is very small and delicate — Hartfield pork is not like any other pork — but still it is pork — and, my dear Emma, unless one could be sure of their making it into steaks, nicely fried, as our’s are fried, without the smallest grease, and not roast it, for no stomach can bear roast pork — I think we had better send the leg — do not you think so, my dear?”
“My dear papa, I sent the whole hind-quarter. I knew you would wish it. There will be the leg to be salted, you know, which is so very nice, and the loin to be dressed directly in any manner they like.”
Emma, Chapter 21
(Diagram showing the cuts of Mutton, Veal and Pork from the 1819 edition of Mrs Rundell’s book)
Mrs Rundell’s advice on porkers is pertinent:
Porkers are not so old as hogs; their flesh is whiter and less rich, but it is not so tender. It is divided into four quarters. The fore-quarter has the spring or fore-leg. the fore-loin or neck , the spare rib and griskin. The hind has the leg and loin.
Her advice regarding the Loin is:
Loin and Neck of Pork: Roast them.
But as regards the leg……
To boil a leg of Pork
Salt it eight or ten days; when it is to be dressed, weight it; let it lie half an hour in cold water to make it white: allow a quarter of an hour for every pound and half an hour over ,from the time it boils up; skim it as soon as it boils, and frequently after. Allow water enough .Save some of it to make peas-soup. Some boil it in a very nice cloth, floured; which gives a very delicate look .It should be small and of a fine grain. Serve peas-pudding and turnips with it.
Mr Woodhouse would surely have approved of Mrs Rundell’s style, I think:
“That’s right, my dear, very right. I had not thought of it before, but that was the best way. They must not over-salt the leg; and then, if it is not over-salted, and if it is very thoroughly boiled, just as Serle boils our’s, and eaten very moderately of, with a boiled turnip, and a little carrot or parsnip, I do not consider it unwholesome.”
Emma, Chapter 21
Here are a few pieces of sensible advice from Mrs Rundell’s General Remarks and Hints on Providing Food for the Poor:
I promised a few hints, to enable every family to assist the poor of their neighbourhood at a very trivial expense; and these may be varied or amended at the discretion of the mistress…
When the oven is hot, a large pudding maybe baked and given to the sick or young family; and thus made the trouble is little;…
Shades of Miss Bate’s twice baked apples…
I found in the time of scarcity ten or fifteen gallons of soup could be dealt out weekly at an expense not worth mentioning even though the vegetables were brought .If in the villages about London abounding with opulent families the quantity of ten gallons were made in ten gentlemen’s houses there would be a hundred gallons of wholesome agreeable food given weekly for the supply of forty poor families, at the rate of two gallons and a half each.
What a relief to a labouring husband, instead of bread and cheese, to have a warm comfortable meal! To the sick ,aged and infant branches how important and advantage! More less to the industrious mother whose forbearance may have a larger share frequently reduces that strength upon which the welfare of ah family essentially provides.
It rarely happens that servants object to seconding the kindness of their superiors to the poor: but should the cook in any family think the adoption of this plan too troublesome ,a gratuity at the end of the winter might repay her if the love of her fellow creatures failed of doing it a hundred fold….
If you are at all interested in the domestic food as described in Emma, then I can think of no better book to read than Mrs Rundells cookery book. And luckily for us, Persephone Books have recently issued a very reasonably priced and beautifully produced edition of the 1816 edition of this book. It’s not very often I really do urge you to buy a book (Really !?!) but I would urge everyone to buy this
Paul Sandby was the English watercolourist supreme of the late 18th/ early 19th century. A recent exhibition of his works, held to celebrate the bicentenary of his death has been held at his birthplace, Nottingham, and this will soon transfer to the Royal Academy in London, where it will be on show from 13th March to the 13th June. The catalogue of the exhibition however has been made available as a hardback book, edited by John Bonhill and Stephen Daniels, the research for which was conducted with the help of generous aid and support from the Paul Mellon Centre for the studies of British Art . It is full of marvellous images of late 18th/ early19th century England, many of which have great relevance to incidents/references in Jane Austen’s novels , not least his depiction of ruined abbeys
and ancient castles which would set Catherine Morland’s heart a-beating, and views of army encampments fit enough to enrapture the hearts of Lydia, Kitty and even Mary Bennet.
(Note: Please do enlarge all the illustrations in this post by clicking on them: the wait while they load will replay dividends!)
Paul Sandby and his fellow artist and elder brother, Thomas began their careers apprenticed to the Nottingham surveyor Thomas Peat. After this Thomas Sandby was engaged as a military draughtsman in the Tower of London. In 1747 Paul Sandby submitted specimens of his work to the Board of Ordinance and after the establishment of the military survey in Scotland in September 1747 he was appointed draughtsman to the survey. This was of course a time when the ability to draw, survey accurately and to make maps was an essential skill of the military. No satellite scans or photographs were available to make surveying the land an easy task.
Paul Sandby, as a member of this survey, was ordered to make maps of the Scottish highlands as part of the Hanoverian campaign to restore peace in Scotland after the Jacobite rising of 1745. Sandby worked for the survey for four years producing not only excellent maps
and surveys of buildings
but also landscape drawing and figurative studies which are now of great interest to us for the details of everyday life they reveal. For example, just look at the detail captured in this scene of a hanging of a soldier John Young, whose offence was to forge banknotes, taken in Edinburgh in 1751.
Sandby returned to live in London in and then for some years he lived in Windsor with his brother Thomas and his family. During this time he made many studies of Windsor Castle , immortalizing it as it appeared when it was the home of George III and his family and before George IV and is architect, Jeffrey Wyatville remodelled it in the 1820s, into the show castle/palace we can still visit today. In Sandby’s sketches and watercolours of Windsor we see it as would have Mr Churchill –Franks Churchill’s “adoptive” father in Emma- when he lived in Windsor, just after Mrs Churchill’s decease.
The majority of Sandby’s Windsor watercolours were collected by Sir Joseph Banks but the Prince of Wales was also fact an admirer of Sandby and collected some of his pictures. This is one from the Royal Collection, of the Duke of Cumberland ‘s page:
That he was a favourite of the Prince of Wales would not had endeared him to Jane Austen. But we will simply have to overlook that His works are breathtakingly beautiful- and I love to examine them closely for the intimacy of life in that era that they reveal. The studies of women working in kitchen and laundries are among some of my favourites. This is one, again from the Royal Collection, of a cook making a pie.
I love to discern the detail of her surroundings.
Here is his picture of Turkey Mill and Vinters the home of Susannah Whatman, (whom we met along with her husband, last week in our first Housekeepers post, ) which I’m sure you will agree is exquisite.
Paul Sanby was also an acclaimed drawing master and was patronised by some of the most influential men of the era. As the article about him in the Oxford Dicitonary of National Biography by Luke Herrmann records:
From early in his career Sandby was also busy as a drawing master, counting several of his patrons, such as Lord Harcourt and Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, among his pupils. In 1768 he was appointed chief drawing master at the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, at a salary of £150 per annum, a post that he retained until his retirement in 1796, and when there he lived in lodgings at Old Charlton in Kent. Officers in the Royal Artillery and the engineers were trained at Woolwich, and Sandby was able to introduce a wide range of the sons of the aristocracy and gentry to the practice and appreciation of landscape drawing. Through some of his Woolwich pupils Sandby’s influence spread as far afield as Canada.
The pictures of army encampments contained in this book are fascinating. This picture shows a detail of his record of the encampment in St James Park in – you can see the towers of Westminster Abbey clearly visible across the park.
This aquatint dates from the time of the anti-Catholic Gordon Riots in 1780 ,when rioting, which began in St Georges Field on the south bank of the Thames wreaked havoc across the capital, and was so memorable that when nearly 20 years later Jane Austen was writing Northanger Abbey , the very mention of rioting in London was enough to strike horror into the tender heart of Eleanor Tilney:
“Miss Morland, do not mind what he says; but have the goodness to satisfy me as to this dreadful riot.”
“Riot! What riot?”
“My dear Eleanor, the riot is only in your own brain. The confusion there is scandalous. Miss Morland has been talking of nothing more dreadful than a new publication which is shortly to come out, in three duodecimo volumes, two hundred and seventy–six pages in each, with a frontispiece to the first, of two tombstones and a lantern — do you understand? And you, Miss Morland — my stupid sister has mistaken all your clearest expressions. You talked of expected horrors in London — and instead of instantly conceiving, as any rational creature would have done, that such words could relate only to a circulating library, she immediately pictured to herself a mob of three thousand men assembling in St. George’s Fields, the Bank attacked, the Tower threatened, the streets of London flowing with blood, a detachment of the Twelfth Light Dragoons (the hopes of the nation) called up from Northampton to quell the insurgents, and the gallant Captain Frederick Tilney, in the moment of charging at the head of his troop, knocked off his horse by a brickbat from an upper window. Forgive her stupidity. The fears of the sister have added to the weakness of the woman; but she is by no means a simpleton in general.”
(Northanger Abbey, Chapter 14)
Paul Sandby married Anne Stogden and they lived in Dufours Court, Broad Street, Carnaby Market in London. They had three children The elder son, Paul, was an officer in the army and died at Barbados in 1793. The second son, was also an artist and succeeded his father as drawing master at Woolwich. His friends recorded that Sandby was a man of great friendliness and generosity. He had a strong sense of humour and wrote and conversed fluently and effectively.
Here he is, depicted sketching from a window in his house in Bayswater, by his fellow artist, Francis Cotes.
He was a founder member of active member of the Royal Academy, and remained an active member of the Academy all his lifeand became a popular and very influential figure in London’s artistic and literary society. Thomas Gasinborough thought highly of him especially with regard to his landscapes, and described him as
the only Man of Genius … who has employ’d his pencil that way
In 1772 he and his family moved to his final London home, 4 St George’s Row, Bayswater, close to the Bayswater turnpike on the Oxford Road, with fine views over Hyde Park. He had a studio at the end of the garden, probably designed by his brother, and this was used for teaching and for his weekly meetings where he
drew round him a circle of intellectual and attached friends, comprising the most distinguished artists and amateurs of the day. His house became quite a centre of attraction … when, on each Sunday, after Divine Service, his friends assembled, and formed a conversazione on the arts, the sciences and the general literature of the day.
(See: The life of James Gandon, esq.(1846) edited by T. J.Mulvany )
(Paul Sandby’s studio at his Bayswater home)
Sandby died at home at 4 St George’s Row on 8 November 1809, and was buried at St George’s, Hanover Square.
I can thoroughly recommend this book to you: the illustrations I have included here in this post are only a tiny amount of the total contained in this fine book.
The detail in the watercolors and aquatints is amazing and gives an accurate idea of what like was really like to live in London and the English countryside of Jane Austen’s era .It is quite possible to lose oneself within them , imagining that many of her characters, Emma and Mr Knightley, for example, might saunter into the frame at any minute…….
Like this:
This book ,by Emma Rutherford, was an unexpected and very welcome Christmas gift this year made to me by a very dear friend. It is the most beautiful and sumptuous book on silhouettes I have ever seen. I have always been interested in silhouettes as they have always been present in my homes. I have a small collection of family silhouettes dating from the early to mid 19th century,and even had one taken as a child. This is one from my collection and it dates from around 1810:
(Do remember you can enlarge all the pictures on this blog merely by clicking on them)
But it is the book’s fascinating explanation of the history of silhouettes that I have found very intriguing.
Silhouettes in the 18thcentury were known in England as “shadows” or ”shades” and in the early 19th century as “profiles’. Dorothy Wordsworth wrote to her friends in 1807, asking them to
send their profile
to her.
In France they gained the term “silhouette” by association with Etienne de Silhouette who was appointed France’s Comptroller General( an equivalent post to our Chancellor of the Exchequer) during the year 1759 by Louis XIV. He levied land tax on France’s nobles and reduced their pensions, and furthermore hurt their pockets by taxing all external signs of wealth. Opposition from the ancien regime,the nobility and the church-previously exempt from such audacious taxes -was loud. After only eight months in office he was forced to retire from his post to his château in the countryside.
There are two theories regarding the adoption of the term silhouette for this type of portraiture, and both reflect Monsieur Silhouette’s unpopularity. The first comments upon the fact that taking a silhouette is a very quick process and as such it reflected Etienne de Silhouette’s very short tenure in office. The second theory has it that as this type of portraiture was, in it’s simplest state, the cheapest form of portraiture available at the time, it deserved to be named for him. Etienne ‘s hated penny-pinching methods of raising tax may therefore have associated his name for ever with this type of portraiture for, in France, the phrase a la silhouette came to mean to do anything ” on the cheap”.
It may interest you to know that the “science” of physiognomy used silhouettes to determine a sitter’s character. Physiognomy is of unknown origin,but it formed an integral part of ancient Greek medicine,and the revival of its popularity in the 18th century was attributable to the idea that the study and judgement of a person’s outer appearance – particularly the face- would give insight into that person’s character. Johann Caspar Lavater (1741-1801) used the term silhouette in continental editions of his very influential book, Essays on Physionomy ; Designed to Promote the Knowledge and the Love of Mankind (17 75).
In English versions the term was translated as “shades”.This was a sensationally successful book both in Europe, England and the United States.By the middle of the nineteenth century over 150 edition had been published. As Emma Rutherford writes:
It is easy to imagine that,at the height of the book’s popularity to turn sideways for others observation was to ask for analysis of one’s personality. Later in the 1830s Charles Darwin found that the captain of the Beagle had done just that:
“Afterwards on becoming very intimate with Fitz-Roy I heard that I had run a very narrow risk of being rejected on account of the shape of my nose! He was an ardent disciple of Lavater and was convinced that he could judge of a man’s character by the outline of his features and he doubted whether any one with my nose could possess sufficient energy and determination for the voyage.”
I wonder if Ang Lee and Emma Thompson were thus trying to tell us something about Willoughby’s appearance when Marianne Dashwood takes his shadow in their adaptation of Sense and Sensibility in a scene reminiscent of this plate fromLavater’s book…Hmmm…..?
The book is sumptuously illustrated with the many, many different types of silhouettes, a term that was eventually popularised in an unsuspecting England, by the French artist Augustin Edouart in the 1820s, and describes in great detail the many different methods of taking a “profile”. There were those made by cutting paper
….those painted on paper….
and on the reverse side of glass, or on ivory.
I adore this foursome : it reminds me forcibly of Admiral and Mrs Croft , Captain Wentworth and Edward Wentworth of Persuasion.…
We are all of course familiar with this paper silhouette which is possibly of Jane Austen:
It was found in a second edition of Mansfield Park with the inscription, “L’amiable Jane“.
This book is marvellously readable, and is sumptuously illustrated. It will enchant anyone interested in silhouettes, and clearly explains the very many different types which were made. The explanation of the development of this form of portraiture in this book is admirably and carefully done. The wonderfully reproduced silhouettes also give us the chance to examine in exquisite detail tiny aspects of domestic life in the late 18th and early 19th century as recorded in them, as here demonstrated by this silhouette of a lady serving herself a cup of chocolate.
I have lost myself in this absorbing book over the Christmas season and I can highly recommend it.
This book has been in print for some time( it was first published in 2003) but I thought I would recommend it to you here , now I have the opportunity so to do , and because I find it is one of the best books written on food in the long eighteenth century.
It is published by Prospect Books and Tom Jaine who runs the company should be knighted for services to food history. His catalogue of wonderful books make for rewarding and fine reading: most of them in his present an past catalogue are to be found on my book shelves, and I can highly recommend them to anyone keen to learn about the practical details of cookery performed in a long gone era.
Gilly Lehamn’s book is an extract from her doctoral dissertation. Despite its academic nature it is a very readable book, and is not dry as dust. Like most of my favourite historians she refers to Jane Austen as a source( though not as frequently as Amanda Vickery!) and that can’t be a bad thing. I do tend to favour a writers who appreciate Jane Austen’s accuracy I recording life in the late 18th can early 19th century.
This book will teach you all you really need to know about the food styles of the 18th century( the rage for French food versus plain English fare),how it was eaten and how recipes etc were disseminated throughout the 18th century.
Though she concentrates on the cookery books of the era, she also give us fabulous information(which is hard to find in books or on the net) on the authors of these books and their readership, detailing the types of person- from grand mistress to servants –who was intended to be the reader of the books.
She takes pains to tell us about the Tavern Cooks , like John Farley, Collinwood and Wollams (see their portraits above from my copy of The Universal Cook) celebrity chefs whose popular books were “ghost written” by a hack journalist: nothing really changes does it?
This book also provides , in one volume, delicious detail about the way meals were eaten,manners, customs, mealtimes, the ever changing time for diner throughout the century and what that said about your status, etc., etc. This helps explain Jane Austens despairing remark when writing to her sister Cassandra who was staying with Edward Knight at Godmersham in Kent, who was of course as Ms Lehman notes ”the rich member of the family”:
We dine now at half after three & have done diner I suppose before you begin-We drink tea at half after six.-I am afraid you will despise us.
The illustrations are few but what few there are ,are interesting, as in the reproduction of this frontispiece to Hannah Glasse’s1775 edition of The Art of Cookery:
When Tom Jaine announced the publication of this book, he predicted that ”This is a biggy”. I can only agree….
Authors of sites, far more qualified than me, write about fashion in the Gregorian /Regency era, and I would never presume to step on their toes.
But occasionally if there is something different but relevant on that topic which interests me and that I can discuss, I will, and I hope you will indulge me.
Today I want to talk about a book which is fascinating , not just for the descriptions of clothing in Jane Austen’s time, but for the historical perspective it gives : The Dress of the People by John Styles.
This book is currently one of my favourite books on the history of the era, because it tackles an area that has been very neglected: the clothing of the poor, the working class and servants in the long 18th century.
Jane Austen gives us some ideas of the puritanical attitude some held towards servants clothing in Mansfield Park : Mrs Norris and her sister, Mrs Price, share the opinion that servant girls ought not to show any extravagance in dress:
The family were now seen to advantage. Nature had given them no inconsiderable share of beauty, and every Sunday dressed them in their cleanest skins and best attire. Sunday always brought this comfort to Fanny, and on this Sunday she felt it more than ever. Her poor mother now did not look so very unworthy of being Lady Bertram’s sister as she was but too apt to look. It often grieved her to the heart to think of the contrast between them; to think that where nature had made so little difference, circumstances should have made so much, and that her mother, as handsome as Lady Bertram, and some years her junior, should have an appearance so much more worn and faded, so comfortless, so slatternly, so shabby. But Sunday made her a very creditable and tolerably cheerful–looking Mrs. Price, coming abroad with a fine family of children, feeling a little respite of her weekly cares, and only discomposed if she saw her boys run into danger, or Rebecca pass by with a flower in her hat.
Chapter 42
and
That Mrs. Whitaker is a treasure! She was quite shocked when I asked her whether wine was allowed at the second table, and she has turned away two housemaids for wearing white gowns.
Chapter 10
I leave it to yourselves to determine if we should have shared that view…
Surviving costumes as worn by the poor etc in the long 18th century are , of course, very rare .They were worn, re worn and adapted till they fell apart into rags. That makes a study of them very difficult. John Styles the Research Professor of History at the University of Hertfordshire has tackled this problem head on and resolved it by referring to various sources of information. Unusual written sources are sourced by him in this book: criminal records are invaluable as the theft of clothes and clothing material was one of the most frequently prosecuted set of offences in the criminal courts during the long 18th century. Newspaper advertisements for fugitives inevitably contain descriptions of the clothes the fugitive was wearing when last seen.
For visual and material sources, Professor Styles refers to the prints and paintings of the era, of which this is one:
It reminds me of the family to whom Emma dispenses practical charity in chapter 10:
They were now approaching the cottage, and all idle topics were superseded. Emma was very compassionate; and the distresses of the poor were as sure of relief from her personal attention and kindness, her counsel and her patience, as from her purse. She understood their ways, could allow for their ignorance and their temptations, had no romantic expectations of extraordinary virtue from those, for whom education had done so little; entered into their troubles with ready sympathy, and always gave her assistance with as much intelligence as good-will. In the present instance, it was sickness and poverty together which she came to visit; and after remaining there as long as she could give comfort or advice, she quitted the cottage with such an impression of the scene as made her say to Harriet, as they walked away…
And for evidence of the type of materials worn by the poor he refers to the magnificent but sad collection of textile scraps preserved by the London Foundling Hospital. Here is a picture of the building from my collection of early 19th century topographical prints:
The Foundling hospital was the first intitution in England where children abandoned by their desperate mothers could be cared for, brought up and finally set out into the world suitably educated for a trade. Go here for a detailed history of the Foundling Hospital.
The Foundling Hospital was founded by Thomas Corum , a seafaring merchant, born in Lyme Regis. While living at Rotherhithe and pursuing his business interests in London, Coram regularly travelled a route on which he saw abandoned children, some dead, others dying. In 1722, motivated by an enduring blend of Christian benevolence, practical morality, and civic spirit, he decided to take action.
Inspired by the examples of the foundling hospitals on the continent, he advocated one for London. However, failure attended these first efforts, but in 1739 Thomas Corum obtained a royal charter for a Hospital for the Maintenance and Education of Exposed and Deserted Young Children. Orphanages for such children had not been adopted in England, unlike in Europe, due to the prevailing puritan outlook : it was considered that young women would be encouraged into immorality and vice if facilities were provided for the succor of unwanted children.
Thomas Corum and his supporters- including Hogarth who painted this stunning portrait of him above- combined pity of the unwanted child with a certain commercial pragmatism.
The care regime for the child was as follows: after four years of wet nursing and foster care in the country among suitable families, the foundling children were taught useful skills in the Hospital that would benefit them and society. Girls were brought up to be domestic servants and boys to be employable in husbandry, seafaring or as household servants or placed with London shopkeepers( their ability to write and keep accounts assisted them in this). Boys were apprenticed at the age of 12 or 13, girls at 14.
Here is its position in London from a section of my copy of Smith’s New Map of London (1809)
You can see the Foundling Hospital quite clearly I hope, with Brunswick Square set around it- for the square was in fact built on land owned by the Foundling Hospital and was developed by the Governors of the Hospital:
The Foundling Hospital, which, like so many institutions of the 1740-60 period, stood out in the fields. Unlike other hospitals, however, the Foundling possessed the freehold of much of the land surrounding it and it was seen that, as London expanded northwards, this could be made a considerable source of wealth.” When the Governors talked of building in 1788 there was an immediate outcry against the invasion of more open country; it was also considered that the children’s health might suffer. Two years later, however, the hospital architect was instructed to make a report. This architect was Samuel Pepys Cockerell, a pupil of Sir Robert Taylor and a man who, like Taylor, combined artistic ability and scholarship with a real grasp of practical affairs and an unimpeachable professional character.
In his Report to the Governors of the Foundling, Cockerell recommended the formation of the open spaces which we now know as Mecklenburgh and Brunswick Squares.” In this he had the support of Thomas Bernard, one of the Governors, whose name became much associated with public improvements in the Regency. The objects of the squares were, first, to retain for the hospital ‘the advantages of its present open situation’ and, second, to provide an architectural setting so ‘as rather to raise than depress the Character of this Hospital itself as an Object of National Munificence’.
The Report sets out that cardinal principle of Georgian town planning, the creation of urban units containing accommodation for all classes. Cockerell proposes:
“That there shall be such principal features of attraction in the Plan as shall not be too great for a due proportion to the whole but yet sufficient to draw Adventurers to the subordinate parts and that these subordinate parts be so calculated as to comprise all Classes of Building from the first Class down to Houses of Twenty-five pound pr. annum without the lower Classes interfering with and diminishing the Character of those above them, and particularly that the Stile of the Buildings at the several Boundaries, be (in order to ensure success to the intermediate parts) as respectable as possible consistent with their situations and with prudence in the Adventurers.”
(from “Georgian London” , p184-5 by Sir John Summerson)
By 1802 nearly 600 houses had been built on the estate owned by the foundling Hospital. Of which Mr John Knightley’s in Emma was one. This makes sense- for the air on the outskirts of London was considered good: and Isabella Knightley ,very much her father’s daughter would surely have settled no where else. For John Knightley’s comfort-and we know that was very important to him-he was not far from the law courts and Barristers chambers , and finally I think Jane Austen was making an indirect reference to the illegitimate and abandoned state of Harriet Smith, who found happiness in Brunswick Square while staying with the Mr John Knightley’s there. A trip to Astley’s Amphitheatre was the scene of her reconciliation with Robert Martin.
Back to the book…..
The hospital’s admission or billet books which were meticulously kept form 1741 to 1760 contain the worlds largest collection of everyday fabrics. This is one example of a blue and white striped cotton turned up with purple and white linen ,made up into a baby’s sleeve, accompanied by a pink ribbon.
The child who wore it was as you can see about 3 weeks old when it was accepted into the Foundling Hospital. Heatrending.
However Professor Styles users them very carefully, describing the type of cottons and linen the preserved scraps represent and the type of clothes from which they came.
It all makes for an absorbing and facinating read.
The book is published by Yale and it is sumptuously and carefuly produced, the illustrations are clearly reproduced, an important point other publishers may have fudged.
I thoroughly recommend it, not only for its history of plebeian clothing in our era, but for its examination of that part of society which,i s certainly referred to by Jane Austen but is not usually covered in history books.
Because of Jane Austen’s fleeting references to servants in her works, I have heard people refer to her so-called method of hiding them, as Her Invisible Servants, implying that, as she was mostly silent on their roles and physical presence, they meant nothing to her and she was indifferent to them.
This is not correct.From the evidence of her letters she was clearly involved in the detail of her own servants lives and of those employed by the various branches of her family.The letter written from Lyme of the 14th september 1804 talks affectionately of James and Jenny ,their servants. Jane Austen had a very close and long friend ship with Anne Sharpe, the governess to Edward Knight’s children.
We have to remember, I think, that she was writing for an audience that understood the milieu in which she set her novels and she didn’t need to specify in a documentary-like manner all the servants employed in a household.
But we do get to hear about some of them. Tantalising glimpses are given of the amount of servants that households large and small would employ: we get to know, by report,Patty the maid of all work employed by Miss Bates and her mother in Emma; Mackenzie the gardener at Kellynch in Persuasion: Rebecca ,the maid of all work in the Prices overcrowded and slovenly household at Portsmouth in Mansfield Park.
Certainly not many of Jane Austen’s servants actually speak in the novels,but those that do are memorable, for they have important plot points to make. Baddesley the butler at Mansfield plays a small but stellar role, fully ready to rebuke the horrid Mrs Norris, and in one sentence encapsulates all we need to know about the Servant’s Hall ‘s views on that dreadful woman. The redoubtable Mrs Reynolds in Pride and Prejudice is surely loquacious enough for us all …
Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his many merits as they proceeded together up the great staircase.
If we want to learn more about the detail of the servants and their roles in these household we have to look elsewhere. Luckily there are some good books available to us at reasonable prices..
The first I would recommend is The Complete Servant by Samuel and Sarah Adams, who both worked as servants in our era and recorded their views on the different roles of each category of employee in this book.
This is a reprint of the 1825 text. It is crammed full of wonderful detail about the role of every possible household , indoors and outdoors servant,together with helpful calculations of the type of income then needed to support different sized households.
If you are only going to purchase one book on servants in our era than this is the one I would most highly recommend.
Its foreward is by Pamela Horn and she is the author of the second book I would recommend: Flunkies and Scullions,a marvellous in-depth look at the role of the servant in the 18th century,again impeccably researched and full of glorious detail.
And finally a new book on the subject of servant has been written by the wonderful historian, Jeremy Musson entitled Up and Down Stairs:the History of the Country House Servant.
Despite only containing two chapters on servants in our era, it is none the less a fascinating read, and gives an over view of servants lives from the middle ages to the present-day. It is a throughly enjoyable read, well researched and has the most fascinating chapter on black servants in England during the 18th century that I have ever read. I would recommend it for that chapter alone.
As an over view of the history of the servant in country-house households it is a wonderful, informative read.And that really cannot be said of too many non-fiction books today.
There are of course many original texts on servants roles and lives out there: the trick is finding and affording them! I recently bought an 1825 edition of The Lady’s Maid,which is turning out to be a riveting read:
Over the next few months I’ll be posting pieces from it for you. Do join me , won’t you?
I have added a new page to the site- The Library which is a self-explanatory page, and is permanently accessible from the link under the header to this page.
It is a work in progress, and I will be adding to it all the time… so do pop in to be like Jane Austen at Godmersham where they
…live in the Library except at Meals & have a fire every Evening
and like her you can be
… alone in the Library, Mistress of all I survey
and
… have five Tables, Eight & twenty Chairs & two fires
all to yourself.
This book-a copy of the 15th edition of The Compleat Housewife originally published in 1753- has recently been published by the Chawton House Library, the first in a series of affordable reprints of texts concerned with the domestic side of life in the long eighteenth century.All profits from this series of reprints will go directly towards the Chawton House Library acquisitions fund, helping them to improve and expand the library collection for generations of future readers. One can only approve …..
Do allow me to tell you a little about its author-and be warned , for we only know a little about her…After Elizabeth Raffald , author of The Experienced English Housekeeper and Hannah Glasse, author of The Art of Cookery Eliza Smith(as she is usually called) is one of the best known female 18th century cookery writers.Very little is known about her life apart from the few hints she gives in the Preface to her book:
(Note that the preface above was taken from my copy of her book NOT the copy under review here which is NOT a facsimile)
In it she claimed
‘that for the Space of Thirty years and upwards … I have been constantly employed in fashionable and noble Families, in which the Provisions ordered according to the following Directions, have had the general Approbation of such as have been at many noble entertainments’.
Basically then, she was an housekeeper. Probably, unlike others of her calling more fortunate than herself,-Mrs Raffald notably- she did not leave private domestic service to take up a career as a confectioner or to run a school of cookery.
There are slight hints in her book of an association with the Netherlands, and Lord Montagu has suggested, in the introduction to a facsimile edition of her work published in 1968 that she may have worked at his home, Beaulieu Abbey in Hamsphire:
I was fascinated to find that several of the recipes contained were identical to those in manuscript form in my books. Although it is not known in which great house Mrs E. Smith worked it is more than probable that some of these dishes were orignially created in one of my ancestors kitchens.
(See page 133, A short- title caltolgue of Household and Cookery Books published in the English Tongue 1701-1800 by Virginia Mclean.)
Eliza Smith’s book, though not the first recipe book to be published in England is of interest to historians because it was the first to be published in America-at Williamsburg. It does contain some interesting and innovative recipes. She was among the first cookery writer to include potatoes for savoury dishes, and she even inlcuded one recipe using tea.
This was for a caudle, a hot drink made with ‘strong green tea’, white wine, grated nutmeg, and sugar, thickened with eggs like a custard. It soudns delicious.
Her book ends with a substantial section of medicinal recipes that she called ‘family receipts’. Some are identified with members of the gentry, but interestingly many more with members of the medical profession. Her knowledge of the technicalities of medicine went beyond what might be expected in a book of typical‘family receipts’ of the time. She died in circa 1732 and her book lived on and eventually went into 18 editions thoughout the 18th century.
She appears to have disliked the fashion for cookery books written by grand men cooks,-cookes to Princes and Kings-as she felt they did not surender all their secrets to the reader thereby enabling them to sucesfuly replicate the recipes .Mrs Bennet, admirer of grand French cooks would have surely been shocked…
(Do note you can enlarge this section of Eliza Smith’s preface simply by clicking on it)
So why should a mid-18th century cookery book interest readers of Jane Austen? Because many in Jane Austen’s not particularly fashionable part of the world would have replied upon recipe books like Eliza Smith’s for both their fare and for their medicine. As Gillian Dow of Chawton House Library and Southampton University writes, in the introduction to the book:
Austen’s letters to Cassandra are a rich source for piecing together female domesticity in the early nineteenth century. One can, however, have too much of a good thing: Austen famously writes, after a visit from her brother Edward to Chawton in September 1816,
‘Composition seems to me Impossible, with a head full of Mutton Joint and Rhubarb’.
Austen’s major preoccupation at Chawton was, after all, not the running of a household, but rather the publication, revision and composition of her six novels, all of which were sent out from Chawton to be published between 1811 and1818. In these classic works of English literature, the way in which the domestic informs the narrative intrigues a twenty-first century reader.
Would Betty’s sister, an excellent housemaid who works very well with her needle, have done well as a lady’s maid for the Dashwoods in Sense and Sensibility? Can we ever have such an intricate understanding of the variety and merits of strawberries as the party at Donwell Abbey in Emma? It is to the literature of Austen’s own period that we must turn for answers to these, and many other, vexing questions. For those who wish to understand Mr Woodhouse’s discourses in praise of gruel in Emma, Mrs Bennet’s anxiety when there is not a bit of fish to be got and Lizzie Bennet’s preference for a plain dish over a ragout in Pride and Prejudice, these reprints of rare texts from the Chawton House Library collection will have much to offer. What precisely were the ‘usual stock of accomplishments’ taught to Henrietta and Louisa Musgrove at school in Exeter in Persuasion, and why does Lydia gape at Mr Collins’s reading of Fordyce’s Sermons in Pride andPrejudice? Some answers will be found in Chawton House Library reprints of conduct literature. And for a true understanding of what it might mean for Fanny Price to be scorned by her better-dressed cousins for having only two sashes in Mansfield Park, for Henry Tilney to understand muslins particularly well in Northanger Abbey, and indeed just how Lucy Steele might have gone about trimming up a new bonnet, with pink ribbons and a feather, in Sense and Sensibility, instruction will come from reprints of works on eighteenth-century dress and fashion.
I couldn’t agree more: for that is my rasion d’etre here at this blog, after all ….
My only real gripe with the book is that is not reproduced in facsimile: but it is being sold at a very reasonable price ( it is a hardback book and prettily produced) so such minor quibbles should be kept in proportion.
I really am looking forward to seeing what other texts will be published in this series. The library at Chawton is not only stocked with interesting fiction but has many, many copies of recipe, conduct , instruction and gardening books. I know that every time I have visited it has made my mouth water with anticipation…. And I hope you find me bringing this to your attention worth while.
I am a great fan of Amanda Vickery’s books. And I think that they should be required reading for anyone interested in the social history of the Georgian era.
Her previous work The Gentleman’s Daughter was a wonderfully detailed exploration of the intimate lives of women in the 18th century and helped many of us to a greater understanding of Jane Austen’s female character’s lives by setting them in a recognisable historical context .
Her new book Behind Closed Doors : at home in Georgian England once again takes the domestic realm as it subject but details it on a much wider scale.
She does not concentrate on one class of people but considers , in minute detail, the intimate lives of landladies, lodgers tradesmen and women ,professionals and aristocrats living in both London and in the provinces.
Its scale is breathtaking and the detail, delicious.
And what I really adore is that she admits the historical truth of Jane Austen’s writings by including copious quotes from the six novels to illustrate her points. Indeed, she devotes almost half a chapter of the book to consider the way in which the subject of the home is treated by Austen’s heroines and heroes, even going so far as to paraphrase the famous opening sentence of Pride and Prejudice.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Georgian house with a drawing room,French windows and lawns must be in want of a mistress…
It was an irresistible and understandable opportunity ….I dare-say had I been given the chance to play with that famous line, I would not have let it pass either…
While reading Professor Vickery’s descriptions of the lives and experiences of individuals the Jane Austen devotee will find many parallels with the situations in which her characters find themselves. For example, look at this passage on the unenviable plight of the genteel, dependant spinster:
Many, if not most, families exploited their unmarried womenfolk, as unpaid housekeepers, nursery maids and sick-nurses, tutors, chaperons, companions and surrogate mothers. Some spinsters were commended for their pains, and drew satisfaction from their value to the family enterprise. Frances Blundell was ‘one of the best spokes in the wheel on which our fortunes have turned’, acknowledged her brother William. Conversely, a hundred years later in the same county, Ellen Weeton and her widowed mother forwent ‘the comforts, and even many of the necessaries of life, to support my brother at Preston’ training to be a lawyer, imagining that he ‘would repay us when old enough for all these deprivations’. But it was a vain expectation, ‘for like all his sex, when he was grown up, he considered what had been done for him was his right; that he owed no gratitude to us, for we were but female relatives, and had only done our duty’. Lawyer Weeton declined to offer his sister a home because ‘such a kind of family was very unpleasant, causing the most unhappy dissensions’. Some spinsters questioned their lot, but their options for improvement were narrow. ‘Should her destination be to remain an inhabitant in her father’s house’, Priscilla Wakefield intoned, ‘cheerfulness, good temper, and obliging resignation of her will to that of others, will be there equally her duty, and her interest’. Eventually, of course, ‘it will belong to her to enliven, cheer, to amuse the latter moments of her parent’s declining age’.” Dependent women were to adapt themselves to the rhythms and priorities of the household. Self-sacrifice on the altar of family was the sentence of the spinster.
The depictions of Miss Bates, Charlotte Lucas and even the Austen sisters themselves resonate here. And so it goes on throughout the book.
The book is beautifully produced , printed on fine glossy paper and illustrated in black and white and colour with very appropriate and carefully chosen illustrations:
Here , for example , we have two examples of wallpaper circa 1790 taken from a house in Manchester Street, London. The chapter on home decorating (Wallpaper and Taste) is fascinating.
I confess I have devoured this book and read it quickly almost at one sittting.I am going to revisit it over the next few weeks savouring its detail. I highly recommend this book to you: anyone who is keen on Jane Austen’s works will enjoy delving into the minutiae of real people’s lives – especially as many of the lives have telling details which echo in Austen’s works.
Is it too much to hope that this book will soon appear in a Kindle edition?
