More from The Ladies’ Home Journal, 1921

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What was Trending in the Winter of 1824

from The Ladies’ Monthly Museum, Volume 21

Epitome of Public Affairs, for December 1824. 

Few occurrences have been announced during the past month which are likely to have any important influence on the state of affairs, either at home or abroad

The city of Petersburg has been visited by a terrible calamity. On the 19th alt. in consequence of a westerly wind, the waves of the Baltic, forced back into the channel of the river Neva, on the banks of which the place is built, and laid it almost entirely under water, At two o’clock the current flowed to the height of six or seven feet above the pavements, in every part of the city, which stands almost on one level. A multitude of houses, sentry-boxes, &c. were swept away, and more than 8000 persons are said to have perished: more recent accounts state the number of lives lost to have been 3,000. The violence of the torrent washed the corpses out of the graves. At Cronstadt, the port of Petersburgh, a ship of 100 guns was floated into the great square, where it remained when the water subsided; and two steam-boats were lying in the middle of the town. The wind, changing after two o’clock, the water rapidly subsided, and by the evening the river had retreated within its banks. The loss of property which has occurred, is immense; and the destruction of provisions has been such as to cause apprehensions of famine. The Exchange has been fitted up to receive some of the houseless sufferers.

Domestic News

The high winds, at the close of last month, were productive of the most disastrous consequences at home. At Deal, Brighton, Shoreham, Seaford, Southampton, Weymouth, Lyme, Plymouth, and other places on the southern coast, much damage has been done, both by sea and land. At Dorchester, houses were unroofed and chimneys blown down, by the fury of the gale. The Rev. H. J. Richman and his wife were killed, in bed, by the fall of a stack of chimneys. On the road between Salisbury and Weymouth, the Regulator Exeter coach was. twice overset, by the force of the wind. In various parts of the country, the effects of the storm have been, more or less, felt. It extended to Wales and Scotland. At Landrillo bay, a vessel was wrecked, and two of the crew drowned.

The execution of Mr. Fauntleroy took place on the day appointed, the 30th alt., when a vast concourse of people assembled in the street and houses of the Old Bailey, to view his exit. Measures had been adopted to obviate the danger, which the pressure of such a crowd might have occasioned; and, fortunately, no accident of consequence happened. The unhappy gentleman behaved with that decency and propriety which has characterized his conduct, ever since his apprehension for the offence for which he suffered. It is remarkable, that a person in a similar rank of life with Mr. Fauntleroy, has, since his execution, been taken into custody, on a charge of forgery. This person is a Mr. Savery, son of a banker at Bristol, and himself carrying on business in that city, as a sugar-baker, in partnership with another gentleman. The crime imputed to him is, forging bills with fictitious addresses; by means of which he had, for some time past, been raising money, to a large amount. Alarmed at the fate of Mr. Fauntleroy, he attempted to make his escape to America; but being followed by his partner, he was taken at Cowes, on board the vessel in which he had engaged a passage.

A man named Ledbitter, landlord of the Dolphin Tavern, Ludgate Hill, was tried on the 4th inst. at the Old Bailey, on the charge of taking a reward for the returning of stolen property. The culprit, on the present occasion, was found guilty; but recommended, by the jury, to mercy, on the score of his previous good character.

A girl of 18, living in service;, near Hungerford, jumped into a well, fifty yards deep, in a fit of temporary insanity, arising from the dread of punishment for some domestic offence.

A young lady was killed at Knightsbridge, by a fall from a one-horse chaise, owing to the horse taking fright.

Mrs. Fermon, a very aged lady, residing in Gravel-lane, being left alone reading by the fire-side, was soon after found enveloped in flames. She was taken to Guy’s Hospital, where she expired in a few hours.

An action has been brought by Miss Wharton, of Warborough, in Oxfordshire, against Mr. Lewis, a Lieutenant in the East India Company’s service, for a breach of promise of marriage. The plaintiff obtained a verdict, with damages.

On the 21st occurred the interesting trial between Miss Maria Foote and Joseph Hayne, esq. on a prosecution against the latter for a breach of a matrimonial engagement. The damages were laid at ,£10,000; but the Jury gave the lady, with their verdict in her favour, the sum of £3000, as a compensation for her disappointment.

 

The Drama

Drury-Lane Theatre. A new Drama, called ” Hafed the Gheber,” has been performed at this house. It is founded on a tale in Moore’s Lalla Rookh; and as a splendid spectacle, is deserving of praise! The music, by Cooke and Horn, is pleasing; and appropriate

Mr. Sapid has made his appearance here as the Seraskier, in “The Siege of Belgrade;” and though he had to contend with the reputation of Braham in that part, he acquitted himself very respectably, and displayed talents of no common order. He has since performed the character of Henry Bertram, in “Guy Mannering.” A new Farce, entitled “My Uncle Gabriel,” was exhibited on the 10th inst. It is a meager, trifling piece, apparently intended only as a vehicle for some very agreeable music.

Note: The image above is Drury Lane before it burned down in 1809. ”A man may surely be allowed to take a glass of wine by his own fireside,” owner and playwright Richard Sheridan said while drinking wine and watching the fire from the street. 

Covent-Garden Theatre.The musical entertainment of “The Frozen Lake,” has been transferred hither, from the English Opera-house. It has had great success; much of which has been owing to the admirable acting of Jones and Keely, and the musical skill of Miss A. Tree. The scenery and dresses were tasteful and magnificent.

At the beginning, of the month, a new Tragedy was produced at this theatre, called ” Ravenna, or Italian Love.” This drama seems to be an imitation of Schiller’s ‘Cabal and Love;’- and it is said to be the production of Messrs. Clark and Bowes, two gentlemen not previously known as theatrical authors.

The language of this play is correct and animated, but enlivened by few sparks of original genius. As a drama, it may be enough to say, that its merits are much on a par with modern tragedies in general.

Young acted the hero, Miss F. H. Kelly, Giana; and Miss Lacey, the Princess Camilla, and by the exertion of their talents they did full justice to the characters they filled. The other performers acquitted themselves with credit, especially Mr. Yates, who enacted the coxcombical courtier, Count Gaudentio.

Note: Nancy Mayer has a listing of Drury Lane and Covent Garden performances for the years 1801 – 1814

The Mirror Of Fashion for January, 1826.

Morning Dress.

A Dress of violet coloured grot de Naples; high French body, with short, full sleeves, confined by straps; long sleeves of white mulled muslin.

The skirt of a moderate length, and very much gored. The border, of the dress is finished by three broad wadded tucks, above which is placed a full puffing of the same material, surmounted by three more tucks to correspond.

Cap of Urling’s patent lace, full trimmed, with a wreath of orange coloured flowers, and riband of the same -colour.

Evening Dress.

A Frock of white tulle, over a slip of bright pink grot tie Naples; the frock is ornamented with oriental pearls, twisted round a rouleau of white satin, in the form of a festoon, and completed by one of the same, laid flat, above the hem of the -dress, surmounted by rosettes of pink satin.

Short sleeves, trimmed to correspond with the skirt; a broad band of satin round the top of the dress, and a beading of satin trimming brought from each shoulder to the centre of the waist.

Ear-rings and bracelets of gold. Necklace formed of one row of large Oriental pearls. White satin shoes, and white kid gloves. A drapery scarf of blue crape, thrown carelessly over the arm, adds to the elegance of this costume.

Head-Dress

As the season for fashionable assemblies approaches, the hair is worn in a richer and more luxuriant style; very large full curls meet on the forehead; the braid elegantly arranged in small bows, interspersed with flowers, or surmounted with a plume of white ostrich feathers.

For the dresses we are, as usual, indebted to the taste of Miss Pierpoint, Edward-street, Portman-square; and for the Head-dresses to Mr. Coixev, Bishopsgate-street within.

General Monthly Statement Of Fashion.

Alpine cloaks are now a favourite envelope for out-door costume; they are chiefly of velvet, lined with taffety, and trimmed with the richest and most valuable fur. The carriage pelisses, even those trimmed with fur, still continue of gros de Naples; and for walking, cloth pelisses are becoming very general; these are mostly of a dark blue, and richly ornamented with braiding. The pelisses, of gros de Naples,are of very bright, but appropriate winter colours, such as Pomona green, Indian red, puce, and fire colour. Cachemere shawls and rich Angolas, are much worn with silk pelisses.

Velvet bonnets are almost universally worn. Those of black are trimmed with very broad striped ribands, generally of fire colour and amber: the strings are tied on one side, under the chin. Coloured flowers, of bright but wintry hue, are the favourite ornaments, but the flowers are mingled with small bunches of black cock’s, feathers; this novelty is considered a great improvement. Egyptian-brick is also a much admired colour for velvet bonnets: they are trimmed and lined with gold coloured satin, intermixed with the velvet. The new bonnets are rather large and wide; they are placed backward, although veils are not much worn. When the bonnet is lined with black, a small blond cornette is usually worn under the hat, and has a very becoming effect.

Evening dresses are trimmed in a variety of ways, with puffings of crape, fringes, and ornaments, of the richest patterns; they are formed in a zig-zag direction: small branches of flowers are, frequently, placed above these trimmings; the bodies are made low, but cut higher than usual round the bust. The ball-dresses are very elegant; the most admired are of white satin, trimmed at the border with treble puckerings of tulle, or with two broad blond flounces. Flowers form a very favourite ornament on ball dresses. The gowns are extremely well proportioned; the waists are of a moderate length. The bust is now more ornamented, than of late.

With coloured silk dresses long sleeves of white lace are much admired. The corsages of some dresses are laid in plaits down each side of the bust; others have ornaments across in the form of brandenburgks. The short sleeves and mancherons are full, and very much puffed out . Dresses of grot de Naples, are trimmed, at the bottom, by a very full puffing of the same material, between- two triple rows of bias folds: for home costume, the dresses are made high, without any collar: the part that covers the neck and shoulders is made plain, and the rest of the corsage in the form of a wheat-sheaf. A favourite trimming for the borders of morning gowns, consists of four flounces, of a moderate breadth, placed at equal distances; they are either scalloped or pointed, and have a beautiful effect, the points or scallops being edged with narrow silk beading: when the body is high, a double pelerine cape is edged round in the same way as the flounces, with a collar of fine lace, made quite plain, falling over.

Turbans, when worn in home or morning dress, have little or no ornament; in full-dress they are fluted, and surmounted by bird of Paradise feathers. Caps are more admired for home dress than turbans; they are of Urling’s lace, or blond, and tastefully trimmed with bows of satin or flowers. Dress hats are in great request for dinner and evening parties; they are mostly composed of black velvet, ornamented with rows of pearls, and surmounted by splendid plumes of white feathers. At the theatre, and evening parties, young ladies appear with their hair arranged in the most beautiful style; the clusters of curls are intermixed with light bows of gauze, of a damask rose and1 gold colour, with flowers and other ornaments tastefully mingled among the tresses.

The most fashionable colours, are, bright pink, violet, Egyptian brick, Indian rose, holly-leaf-green, amber, and fire-colour.

 

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1920s Advertisements

From September, 1921 issue of The Ladies’ Home Journal. I love old advertisements.

 

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Hot Fashion Trends for Winter 1816

From  Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions,  by Rudolph Ackermann, Frederic Shober. 1816

Promenade dress. A high dress of cambric muslin trimmed at the bottom with a single flounce of work. The body, which is composed entirely of work, fits the shape without any fullness. A plain long sleeve, finished by a triple fall of narrow lace. Over this dress is worn the Angouleme pelisse, composed of crimson velvet, lined with white sarsnet, and trimmed with a single welt of crimson satin, a shade lighter than the pelisse. The body is made exactly to the shape; the back is of course a moderate breadth, and without fullness; for the form of the front we refer our readers to our print; it is confined at the waist, which is very short, by a narrow velvet band, edged to correspond. A small collar, of a novel and pretty shape, stands up and supports a rich lace ruff, which is worn open in front of the throat. The sleeve has very little fullness, and that little is confined at the wrist by three narrow bands of puckered satin. Bonnet a la Rouale, composed of white satin, very tastefully intermixed with a large bunch of fancy flowers, and tied under the chin by a white satin ribbon, which is brought in a bow to the left side ; a full quilling of tulle finishes the front. Black silk ridicule, exquisitely worked in imitation of the ends of an India shawl, and trimmed with black silk fringe. White kid gloves, and black walking shoes.

Carriage Dress. A gown of pale faun – colour cloth, made a walking length, and trimmed round the bottom with four rows of rich blue silk trimming. The body, which is cut very low, is ornamented in such a manner as to have a novel appearance, with a similar trimming, but very narrow. The back, which is cut down on each side, is finished at the bottom of the waist by bows and long ends, trimmed to correspond. A very tasteful half sleeve over a plain long sleeve, made tight at the wrist, and hound with blue trimming; it is finished by a narrow ruffle composed of three falls of tulle; fichu of tulle, with a ruff to correspond. When worn as a carriage dress, the head-dress is a bonnet, the crown composed of white satin at top, and the middle and front of Leghorn ; it is lined with white satin, and ornamented only by a white satin band and strings. An India shawl is also indispensable to it as a carriage dress, for which it is elegantly appropriate. Shoes and gloves pale faun colour.

Our dresses this month are both French; but, as our readers will perceive from onr prints, they are in the best style of Parisian costume. We have been favoured with them by a lady who has just returned from Paris.

General Observations on Fashion and Dress

The court mourning for our beloved queen’s august brother has retarded the appearance of those novelties, some of which we shall describe to our fair readers: it is, however, expected to be short, and as it affords us no materials for description, we shall proceed to speak of what is expected to be most in request among belles of taste at its close.

For the walking costume cloth will be most fashionable, and dark colours are likely to be a great deal worn, particularly brown and dark green. We have nothing particular to observe respecting pelisses, but they are expected to be worn, and we believe we shall have a very novel one to describe next month. The walking dress of which we are about to speak, is very tasteful and certainly new: it is composed of brown merino cloth, made a walking length, and trimmed with orange satin, which is laid on very full in waves; the fullness is formed into the shape of shells, by little tufts of brown floss silk. The effect of this trimming is really beautiful. The body is very short in the waist, and made quite tight to the shape; it comes up to the throat, and has a small collar, which is cut in points, as is also a narrow pelerine cape, set on between the shoulder, and brought slanting over the bosom till it ends in a point at the bottom of the waist; these points are lightly embroidered with orange silk to match the trimming. Plain long sleeve, rather full, and very long; it is confined at the wrist by two narrow bands of byas orange satin, and the part which falls over the hand is pointed to correspond with the cape and collar. A swansdown tippet, or an India scarf, must always be worn with this dress.

Poplin and levantine high dresses, with a trimming of gauze to correspond, will be in request with juvenile or hardy élégantes. The most fashionable form, we believe, will be the one which we have just described; but the gauze trimming, of which there are two falls tacked together, is exceedingly pretty, and differs from any thing we have yet seen. A roll of satin is placed between the two falls at top to form a heading, and the lower part is disposed in draperies one above another, and ornamented with bows of ribbon. This trimming, which is very light and tasteful, will, we hope, entirely supersede the preposterous number of flounces which have so long injured the pretty figures of such of our fair country-women who are under the middle size.

Cloth shawls will be most general with silk or poplin dresses; we need scarcely observe, that they must be of the finest texture. For trimming, narrow gold binding, with gold tassels at the ends m front, is likely to be most prevalent; but ermine and other costly furs will be also in estimation.

Beaver, velvet, and black straw bonnets are all talked of, and leathers, to correspond in general, will be universal. We have seen one of the prettiest walking bonnets which has appeared for some time: it is composed of purple velvet, and lined with white satin; the crown is round, of a moderate height, and finished at the top by a wreath of purple satin leaves, which go round it; the front is very deep, hut slopes off at the ears, and shades without concealing the face: a rich purple spot silk half-handkerchief, which has a narrow border of white embroidery round the edge, ties it under the chin: it is ornamented with a beautiful plume of purple feathers tipped with white, which are placed upright in front. The shape of this bonnet is very becoming, and it is’ altogether elegant and ladylike.

Much alteration will undoubtedly take place in the carriage costume, but of what nature we have not been able distinctly to ascertain, we mean as to the forms of dresses: with respect to the materials, we understand that fancy velvets and white merino cloths will supersede everything else. If the dress or pelisse is of fancy velvet, a tocque of the same materials, ornamented with a satin band and a profusion of feathers, will be worn with it; if, on the contrary, it is composed of white merino cloth, the torque must be white velvet, the band gold, and the colour of the feathers will depend on the trimming of the dress. We understand that coloured velvet trimmings, both stamped and plain, will be very fashionable.

The encouragement which her Majesty and Princesses have graciously given to our own manufactures, will, we hope, induce the nobility and gentry to follow their example; and, as in consequence of the arrival of a number of families from France, London is even now more than usually full, we hope and expect that trade will revive, and that we shall have a very brilliant display of dinner and evening costume to present to ourreaders with next month; at present we are in doubt what materials will be most fashionable. We have seen some beautiful fancy velvets, and silks flowered in the loom, the vivid colours and glossy texture of which were equal, if not superior, to any foreign silk. We have seen one dinner dress made for a lady of high rank who is going to Paris, and as the gown is novel and tasteful, we have no doubt it will be in general estimation through the winter.

The material of which the dress is composed is white poplin of the most superior quality; it is made a walking length, the skirt very full, hut gored so as to leave only a moderate fullness behind, we mean at the waist: it is cut at the bottom of the skirt in very deep points, which are edged with narrow byas green satin; these points are filled up with plain blond lace laid in very full; the fullness is fancifully confined by small green silk ornaments: a very rich flounce of blond lace surmounts the points, and another finishes it at bottom. Nothing can be more novel or striking than the effect of this trimming. The back of the dress is composed of byas folds of poplin, each fold edged with green; the back is cut very low, and the fronts, which just meet at the bottom of the waist, are byas; they are also edged with green. The breast is shaded by a fichu of plain blond made extremely full; it comes up to the throat, and fastens behind with small lace rosettes edged with green satin,- as the back is open on each side down to the bottom of the waist, these rosettes give it an uncommonly pretty finish. The sleeve, which is long, is composed of plain blond; it is very full at the top, with is let in plain, and which forms a kind of half-sleeve. A triple fall of plain blond at the bottom, edged with green satin, and two bands to confine the fullness, finish the sleeve. We regret that our description cannot afford an adequate idea of the very novel, tasteful, and striking effect of this dress. For evening costume we can only, that this fancy gauze, and white net spotted with white silk. Are likely to be in the highest estimation for juvenile belles; and white satin, white and figured velvets, will be generally adopted by mature élégantes.

We can say nothing of jewelry, or ornaments for the hair, till next month.

We have no alteration to notice in hair-dressing.

In other news: 

Yesterday  I searched through years and years of bookmarks to create a monster list of research links. If you have a moment, stop by and browse.  I tried to add some estate links, so I could have images of the insides of houses. For those of you interested in floor plans, see the floor plans for Bramham Park 

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Regency Menu for Four

I struggled writing this post.  I wanted to simply list some menus and recipes from The French Cook, or, The Art of Cookery, by Louis Eustache Ude from 1815.  Unfortunately, the recipes in the original book are difficult to locate because the dish names on the menus don’t match the recipes. After spending  more time on this little project than I intended, I  found a second addition of the book from 1822. Everyone must have complained to Ude, so he made an easy to read version. However, he used the same images for the courses as he did in the original edition, despite switching to English for the dish names, as well as changing some of the dishes. So, I doubt there is a direct correspondence from the French to the English in this post, but I have tried to blend the two editions together to match the illustrations.

I shall endeavor to include more menus in the coming days. If you want to look up the actual recipes, I suggest the 2nd edition of The French Cook on Google Books. Also, Nancy Mayer has a great explanation of table Settings and removes on her site. Bill of fare for a dinner of four entries in summer time.

First course

  • Le Potage printannier,  or spring soup.
  • Les tranches de cabilleau, sauce aux huitres,  or crimp cod and oyster sauce.

 Two removes

  • La poularde à la Montmorencie,  or fowl la Mcntmorenci, garnished with a ragout a I’Allcmande. 
  • Le jambon de Westphalie, à l’essence,  or ham glazed with Espagnole.

Four entrées

  • La fricassée de poulets aux champignons, or fricassee of chicken and mushrooms.
  • Les côtelettes d’Agneau sautés, sauce à la Macédoine, or lamb chops saute, with asparagus, peas, &c. 
  • Le sauté de filets de poulets gras, au suprême, or fillets of fat chicken, saute au supreme. 
  • Les tendrons de veau glacés aux laitues, à l’essence or petits pdtes of fillet of fowl a la bechamelle.

Second course

  • Le chapon, or fowls roasted, garnished with water cresses.
  • Les cailles, or six quails

Four entrées

  • Les pois à la Françoise.
  • La gelée de fraises.
  • Les asperges en bâtonets, or asparagus with plain butter.
  • Les puits d’amour garnis de marmalade, or orange jellies in mosaiques. 
* Later edition includes Cauliflower with veloute sauce and Petit gateaux d’ la Manon.

Two removes of the roast.

  • La tart de groseilles rouges.
  • Le soufflé au citron, or souffle with lemon.
* Later edition includes Ramequin d la Sefton.
First Course

Second Course

Ude writes, “From the above statement it will be easy to make a bill of fare of four, six, eight, twelve, or sixteen entrees, and the other courses in proportion”

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Stilton Cheese (for Abigail)

From “Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions,” by Rudolph Ackermann and Frederic Shoberl, 1816

Process of Making Stilton Cheese

The Stilton cheese, which maybe called the Parmesan of England, is not confined to Stilton and its vicinity, for many farmers in Huntingdonshire, and also in Rutland and Northamptonshire, make a similar sort, sell them for the same price, and give them the name of Stilton cheeses; and there is no doubt that the inhabitants of other counties might make as good cheese as that of Stilton, if they would adhere to the right plan, which is this:

Take the night’s cream and put it to the morning’s new milk, with the rennet; when the curd is separated, let it not be broken, as is done with other cheese, but take it out, disturbing it as little as possible, and suffer it to dry very gradually in  a sieve; and as the whey separates, compress it gradually till it has acquired a firm consistence; then place it in a wooden hoop, and suffer it to dry very gradually on a board; taking care, at the same time, to turn it daily with close benders round it, and which must be lightened as the cheese acquires more solidity.

The celebrated cream-cheese of  Lincolnshire is made by adding the cream of one meal’s milk, to milk which comes immediately from the cow; these are pressed gently two or three times, turned for a few days, and disposed for sale, to be eaten while new, with radishes, salad, &c.

From The Book of the Farm Vol I, by Henry Stephens, 1851

It is improbable that any farmer, not a dairy one, will try to make a Cheddar or a Cheshire cheese, but many dairy-maids may be tempted to make a Stilton cheese for family use. The following is a good recipe for making one. The cheese-vat is a tin-plate cylinder, 10 inches high, 25 round on the outside, without top or bottom, having the side pierced with holes, to let out the whey. The rennet is made in the usual way, only the stomach of the lamb is used; and in addition to the ordinary quantity of salt used in it, a lemon stuck full of cloves is put into the jar amongst it, the lemon adding to the efficacy of the rennet. About 9 gallons of new milk, and the cream from 2 or 3 gallons of milk, warmed before being put in the milk, are used for one cheese.  If sufficient new milk cannot be obtained, the night’s milk and cream are used with the morning’s milk, as well as the extra cream. The rennet is put in warm when the milk is new; and when it has become curd, it is not broken, but a strainer of coarse linen is laid in a cheese basket, and the curd put into it, breaking it as little as possible; the cross corners of which are drawn together, and it remains in this way some hours, until sufficiently firm to slice. The curd is put in the vat in slices, a layer of curd and a sprinkling of salt alternately: this is continued until the vat is full; then a flat square piece of board is placed at the top of the vat, one having been previously laid at the bottom, placing one hand at the top, and the other underneath. The cheese is then to be turned over very quickly; its own weight is a sufficient pressure; keep turning it every two or three hours the first day and two or three times next day. It is to be kept in the vat three or four days, according to the firmness of the curd. When taken out, a thin piece of calico is dipped in boiling water and wrung out, and then pinned tightly round the cheese. This cloth remains on it until it is thoroughly dry. The cheese should be turned twice a-day; it does not require any more salt than that which was put in with the curd. It should be a twelvemonth old before it is used, when it may be expected to have a little blue mould, and be rich in taste and mild in flavour. Stilton cheese sells at ls. 4d. per lb., or £7, 9s. 4d. the cwt. in retail.

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Floor plan of a vicarage from 1816

So, I’m still digging around in the “Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions,” by Rudolph Ackermann and Frederic Shoberl. Today, I found the floor plan of a vicarage. It’s fascinating to me because my favorite part of writing is setting. When I’m visiting an old home, I like to walk alone through the rooms to breathe the air, hear my foot steps on the floor, and imagine the energy of the inhabitants from years before as they moved through the same space.

For London floor plans, try The Survey of London

My friend Nancy Mayer sent this fascinating link to me: Highclere Castle Floor Plan: The Real Downton Abbey.

This is a fun floor plan of a typical upper class home in Bath.

Enjoy!

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Leading Apes in Hell — Regency Spinsters

Recently, I was looking for Regency images in the 1816 journals of “Repository of Arts, Literature, Fashions” by Rudolph Ackermann, Frederic Shoberl. I came across a columnist who was mysteriously named “The Female Tattler.” Her moralistic writings were full of melodrama and woe.  So, I thought I would include one on my blog. In this particular article, she considers the appropriateness of calling spinsters “ape leaders.”

NOTE: The Female Tattler enjoyed poetry. However, I chose to edit out her long and copious poetic quotes.

Also, you can find descriptions of the gowns on my Pinterest page under “Regency Fashions”

Enjoy.

THE FEMALE TATTLER.
No. IX.

It may be in the recollection of my readers, that, in a former number, a question was addressed to me relative to the origin of a certain mysterious proverb, very familiar to everyone, respecting the allotment of that class of females distinguished by the title of Old Maids, in a future state of existence; and it was particularly requested to illustrate the employment assigned them of leading apes in hell. 

I did not feel myself disposed, from the delicacy of the subject, to engage in an inquiry so ill suited to female disquisition; and if, in a vain or foolish moment, I had indulged.an idle inclination to pursue it, I must soon have been checked by experiencing a total disqualification for the task. I therefore waited till some ingenious correspondent, skilled in that branch of antiquarian knowledge which relates to symbols, figures, fables, and proverbs, should condescend to favour me with his opinions on the subject.

With this determination I have good reason to be satisfied, as I have at length received a letter relative to the inquiry, which, though not altogether decisive, is replete with ingenuity, fancy, and information, and throws as much light upon the object of investigation as it appears to be capable of receiving. I am not myself one of those females, who, on account of their virgin state, are so frequently, and, I shall add, so illiberally and unjustly, made a subject of jest and contumely; for I have been the wife of two husbands, who are gone to rest, and the mother of five children, three of whom, Heaven protect them, I see like olive-branches round my table: nevertheless, 1 cannot assume it as a rightful privilege to consider, much less to treat with disrespect, any of my sex who have not been subjected to the laws of Hymen, or been in a state to fulfill the duties of a mother. Even supposing, which however is by no means to be taken for granted, that the condition of an old maid is of inferior estimation, as it is not to be attributed to herself, but to those cross accidents of life which it is not in her power to command or control, it must be the height of injustice to regard it either with ridicule or disdain: nay on the contrary, I do not hesitate to declare, that some of the most amiable and excellent women I have known, have been in that I class of my sex who have borne j their virgin honours to the grave. But I am led from the object before me, and therefore shall proceed to communicate the letter, which will form the interesting part of this paper.

TO THE FEMALE TATTLER

Madam,

It has been an amusement of mine, from the early part of my life, to collect, examine, and explain the various proverbial sayings and expressions that are peculiar to different countries and languages, ancient and modern, as well as the provincial peculiarities that are found to prevail, and the idioms that are in habitual use in the different parts of the country which gave me birth. I have a large folio full of my collections, and have sometimes felt an inclination to send it to the press, as a publication that might be of no inconsiderable use to critics, commentators, and the curious in logographic inquiries. Some of these proverbial sayings, however, have not yielded, at least in a manner altogether satisfactory, to my researches. Among them is that which assigns the miserable occupation of leading apes (I will not make use of the horrid word generally annexed to it) in a future state of existence. I shall, however, give you all the information on the subject which I have been able to attain from others, with such opinions as my own curious and investigating mind has suggested to myself.

One of my ingenious friends is convinced, that this predestinating proverb was invented and propagated by the monks, to allure opulent maiden females into the cloister, by persuading them, that as they were likely to become the wives of men, they might become the spouses of God, and, by such an union on earth, be protected from the sentence, which otherwise condemns them to the most rude, disgusting, and improvident companion that can well be conceived in a future world. This notion is too whimsical, as well as trop recherche, to meet with my fastidious humour: for my part, I am rather inclined to rank an idea so injurious to the virgin character, among the dismal and irrational superstitions of the Egyptians, as I find a passage in Hermes Trismegistus, which states, that those women who die childless are, immediately after their death, tormented by demons. I must confess, however, that from the very high respect which the Egyptians entertained for the ape, the demons mentioned by Trismegistus could hardly be of that figure. Indeed, the affectionate adoration which apes have sometimes received, as we learn from the pious poet Prudentius (Venerem precaris, comprecare et simiam), has, at times, led me to conjecture, that the saying in question might have arisen in some country where it bore a very different meaning from what we annex to it at present, and where this destiny of the ancient virgin was intended not as a punishment, but as the reward of her continence.

I do not recollect to have seen the expression of leading apes in hell, in any English author before Shirley the dramatic poet, remarkable for the number of plays which he wrote, and dying, with his wife, of the fright occasioned by the fire of 1666. In his comedy called The School of Compliment, printed in 1637, there is a scene, in which, to humour the madness of Infortunio, a leading personage in the piece, the several characters on the stage pretend to be damned. Delia, among the rest, declares that she was brought into her wretched and lamentable situation as the fatal consequence of her being a stale virgin, or, in the more intelligible phrase, an old maid, and that the horrid punishment assigned her was to lead apes in hell.

But to bring the matter to something like a conclusive opinion, I shall beg leave to state how I have reconciled this expression to my understanding; or rather, what was the meaning intended to be annexed by the judicial ingenuity of the wit who first employed it.

It would be the height of injustice to consider any circumstance, unattended with moral turpitude or criminal intention, as deserving of punishment; and it is altogether improbable, if not absolutely unnatural, that any female should voluntarily and by preference select the maiden state as the condition of her life, merely as such; nor is,  presume, an example to be found of a woman who could marry with a rational prospect of happiness, and, under such circumstances, turned her back upon the altar.

Instances must have occurred to everyone, who has advanced on the journey of life, where female resolution has been seen to resist the invitations of Hymen, from motives that discretion has awakened and reason may approve. While, on the other hand, it must have been visible, how much misery is produced by matrimonial connections hurried on by passion, or formed by interest, in which neither the understanding nor the heart has been duly consulted; and, of course, the happiness that ought to result from the most important connection of life is left to accidental circumstances, in which the risk is by no means in favour of a successful issue.

I will suppose, by way of illustrating my notion on the subject, the two following situations; though I need not state them on supposition, as they were familiar to my own observation and the respective parties perfectly well known to myself. The one was a young lady of very respectable connections; but, in consequence of being one of a numerous family, her principal fortune was the beauty she had received from nature, and the accomplishments which had been afforded by a superior education. At the age of twenty she had won the regards of a young gentleman of handsome fortune; and she did not hesitate to make every return of regard and affection which he required of her. But as his father, who consulted the fortunes rather than the happiness of his son, objected to the consummation of his wishes, they could not be gratified till the old gentleman, who had long been in a very declining state of health, was removed by death from forming any further obstacles to the pleasing prospect of connubial happiness. But in this disappointing world, little dependence can be had on anything which is not actually in our possession. Every thing was settled for this promising union; and even the day was named when the ceremonial of the altar was to repay the happy pair for all their fears, doubts, and anxieties, which they had suffered. But the hand of fate interposed; the young man was suddenly seized with an illness which baffled all the efforts of medical skill: in short, he died, but gave the only proof of regard now in his power to the destined bride, by securing to her a very liberal independence. She lamented her loss with unbounded grief, and formed a resolution to wed herself to the grave of her lover, and devote herself to virgin solitude for his sake. Her fortune was sufficient to give her all the comforts of life; and, in that point of view, she was impelled by no inducement to swerve from the resolution she had decidedly formed. Five years passed, and more than one proposal had been rejected: at length, however, the hour of temptation arrived which did not meet with the wish to resist it. A baronet, who was no longer a young man, “appeared as a suitor; and as he brought a title, and all its fascinating accompaniments along with it, she forgot the tomb over which she had wept, and took possession of a splendid allotment, in which she soon forgot to smile. Harassed by the peevishness of a sick husband, suspected by his jealousy, and misruled by his tyranny, she sought for what she could attain of her former comfort by a deed of separation; and did not become a widow till, if she had even been bold enough, it was too late once more to become a wife.

The contrast to this character will demand an equal space to describe it. . .

Marianne had considerable attractions, and possessed a superior understanding, polished by education, and, which is still better, had been subsequently improved by herself. Fashionable education, unfortunately, gains more and more the ascendancy over good education; as for one young woman who is brought up to fulfill the real duties of the marriage state, as a housewife or a mother, a much greater proportion will be found who learn little more than to tickle the keys of a piano-forte, to thrum the strings of a harp, to sing, to dance, to babble a foreign language, with at most a little needlework and embroidery; in short, to make themselves dolls for a babyman to play withal. Marianne, however, had all the former, and all that was essential to the latter; but she .had formed certain notions of matrimonial happiness which were not confined to the mere having of a husband. She had observed among her female acquaintance how few of them had improved their condition by going to the altar and changing their names, without having duly considered the character, temper, and habits of the man w hose names they assumed. Her own sister had happened to dance with a gentleman at a public assembly, who was so struck with her charms, that the very next day he was a suitor for
her hand. He happened to have a good fortune, with a handsome person, and did not sue in vain. In less than a month he led her to the altar; and in the course of another month she awoke from her fancied dream of happiness, with the melancholy conviction that she should be a wretch for life. My heroine, therefore, determined to weigh the merits of any lovers she might have in the scale of her own judgment, to examine well the preferences of her heart, and not to let the irretrievable die be cast till her reason was convinced, that the chances in favour of happiness were of a decisive character.

She had several opportunities of fulfilling her resolution, and she completely fulfilled it: but the result was, that she grew into an Old Maid. As she never became a wife, she consequently never became a mother; but the maternal duties she exercised for many years with exemplary care and affection. Her sister, whose days were supposed to have been shortened by the base treatment of a profligate husband, requested, on her dying pillow, that her three female children, who were then young, might be consigned to the care of their maiden aunt. This last entreaty was complied with, and their maiden aunt employed all the years which they required to make them the ornaments of their sex and their nature. When she introduced them into the world, at the age when it is proper that they should appear there, thyy were the admiration of all who beheld them. Such a woman as this, Old MAID as she was, ought not surely to be sentenced to lead apes in hell.

What then are the characters— for proverbs, figurative as they may be, are generally founded in justice, and are the offspring of experience—what then, I say, are the characters to whose ancient virginity punishment might be justly applied? I will endeavour to tell you.

Sophia had formed a resolution never to marry, unless the ardent proposition of love was accompanied with a title; and a title never presented itself.

Leonora was convinced, that she should be disgraced if her bridegroom did not take her to church in his coach and four; and no one appeared to make her that offer but in a carriage and pair.

Henrietta had formed the determined whimsey to make it an essential in the gentleman whom she would favour with her hand, that he should be in a rank of life to render it necessary for her to be presented at court; but the courtiers proceeded no further than compliments and congees, and, in their addresses to her, not an hymeneal expression escaped them.

Litterella, my fourth and last, who piqued herself upon her epistolary writing, and had more correspondents than any young lady of her age, or perhaps any age, in the kingdom, determined never to marry a man who could not frank her letters; and neither peer nor member of parliament appeared to perform that office upon the proposed conditions.

The ladies, however, had one virtue; they maintained their respective resolutions, consequently became Old Maids for their folly, and deserve to lead apes in hell.

But why, it may be said, of all the beasts of the forest, are apes selected as the associates of this punishment? I have only to conjecture, that for the whimsical weakness, to say no more of such ancient misses as I have described, in refusing rational marriage with man, they are proverbially condemned to the society of that animal who bears the most disgusting resemblance of him.

But to console the amiable, sensible, and which may be considered as the unfortunate class of the maiden sisterhood, I shall conclude with the sentiments of a distinguished poet, who seems to have been influenced by what he felt, as a humane wish to make some amends for the insult of this injurious proverb, by assigning a place to old maids of the better description in his poetical elysium.

A CURIOUS INQUIRER

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Short Story Week – The Homemaker

This week I’m serializing my short story, “The Homemaker.” This story has been languishing on my hard drive for almost a year.  Writer friends urged me to consider turning it into a novel. But whenever I tried, the tone darkened so much that I lost the gentleness of the narrative.  So, I now believe “The Homemaker” must stay in the short form of its original conception.

Download a PDF version of “The Homemaker”

Author’s note: For a time in my childhood, we lived in a tiny town in South Georgia.  Across from the post office, an old Victorian home was situated among pecan trees.  I was fascinated by the house and often walked its perimeter and peered in the windows.  I daydreamed of fixing it up. Unfortunately, after decades of neglect, the old house was demolished.  Yet, the old place held such a firm place in my heart that I wrote a story about its restoration. So while the characters and locations in this book are figments of my overactive imagination, the house was once very real.

Part I  Part II Part III Part IV

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The Homemaker — Part IV

Download a PDF version of  ”The Homemaker”

<– Parts I, II, III

I didn’t see the white truck again until the third of July. Mr. Powell, his family and the minister’s family were going to spend Independence Day at Mrs. Powell’s. I was preparing all kinds of food for them: red velvet cake, lemon ice box pie, green beans, cheese grits casserole and collards. The kitchen smelled of rising cinnamon buns and simmering black-eyed peas. I was whipping egg whites into soft peaks with the handheld mixer when I saw the truck pull up. The Mexican got out, wearing the same attire as last time. He went around the back of his truck, pulled the tailgate down and lifted up a sheet of plywood. He shoved the wood over the rotting steps, creating a ramp to the door. My grip on the mixer slackened, and the beaters reared up and splattered egg whites across my blouse.

“Ugh!” I set down the mixer and bowl and tried to clean myself with a paper towel, but hot tears blurred my vision. Then I did something I hadn’t done since I was ten and huddled in the school bathroom during the class Thanksgiving play. I wept.

The man continued to haul equipment inside: a saw, a sledge hammer and saw horses. He didn’t come out for several hours while I was snapping beans, cleaning collards and fixing the television remote for Mrs. Powell. But I knew he was in there, taking down the fixtures and doors for selling and ripping up the wood to make pretty floors for rich people’s homes.

Around five, he stepped outside — his gait was stiffer than before.  He pulled a bottle from a cooler in the back of his truck and drank from it. I had the most un-Christian urge to kick his lame leg, shout at him and call him all those bad names Dad’s friends call Mexicans. I quickly prayed for forgiveness, but that didn’t make the tightness and hurt in my chest go away.

 

Mr. Powell’s family members were beautiful people, the types that made me feel clumsy and dull like I did back in school. His daughter was a blonde young woman — real honey blonde, not like Sharee’s hair — with smooth clean skin, bright eyes and a dazzling smile. I couldn’t help but stare at her, marveling at how everything seemed brighter in her presence. I could see why a fancy Atlanta lawyer would give her that beautiful engagement ring that once belonged to his grandmother. She held Mrs. Powell’s hand and told her that the wedding ceremony was going to take place at a beautiful church in a part of Atlanta called Dunwoody. The bridesmaids would wear pale pink silk tea gowns and hold bouquets of white lilies. Mr. Powell’s son was lean, tanned and a bit gawky. He and some of his friends had just spent a week up on the Appalachian Trail. He seemed nervous and kept brushing his hands over his pants legs.

After awhile, I excused myself and went out back where Mr. Powell and the minister were cooking hamburgers on a portable grill. I started to set the picnic table with red plastic utensils and plates decorated with American flags. Up at the old house, the Mexican was hauling lumber from his truck bed.

“Looks like we’re gonna get a new neighbor,” Mr. Powell said, derision coloring his words. “Probably move all his friends in, too. You know how them Mexicans are. Bozeman ought to have torn that place down years ago.”

The minister studied the ice in his glass and then took a long sip of tea. “Randall Bozeman told me that the boy works out on the base. That he’s a captain. Did several tours in Iraq before he got his leg blown up.”

Mr. Powell visibly flinched. His face became even redder.

“Paid cash for the place and says he’s gonna fix it up,” the minister finished.

My gaze flew to the house. The Mexican had hoisted the wood onto his shoulder and was limping inside. A tight squeak escaped in my throat, but nobody heard.

 

After dinner, I stood at the kitchen window, wrapping leftover red velvet cake in tin foil for the minister to take home. The light was beginning to fade, and the air was cooling down as evening approached. The Mexican’s truck was still there.

Mr. Powell came in to get a pitcher of sweet tea from the refrigerator. He followed my gaze. After a moment, he said, “Amber, why don’t you take him some of that good icebox pie you made?”

So with the pan in my shaking hand, I passed through the pecan orchard. The tall grass left little black seeds on the hem of my skirt.

He wasn’t outside, but I could hear the shrill sound of a saw running upstairs.  I walked up the ramp and knocked on the door. It slowly swung open as if it wasn’t shut properly. I took a step over the threshold. A blue cooler sat in the doorway to the kitchen, and several sections of sheet rock were propped against the wall.

The saw wound down.

“Hello?” I said. My high voice echoed through the empty rooms.

“Be there in a minute,” a man’s voice shouted down.

I heard dragging footsteps on the floor above and then clomping down the stairs. The Mexican appeared at the end of the hall. A sheen of sweat shone on his high cheek bones and forehead. His eyes were as shiny as obsidian.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, causing his hair to spike in the front.

“I’m… um…Amber,” I said, swaying on my feet like a little girl. “I…er…stay with Mrs. Powell back there, and we…uh…we had some leftover pie. We thought you might want some.” I held out the pie.

“Oh, wow, thanks.” He took the pan. His long fingers were powdered with sawdust.  “Did you make it?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I’m Victor Diaz,” he said as he bent over and put the pie in the cooler.  Then he reached in for a Diet Coke. “Do you want one?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

“So, you are the first neighbor I’ve met.” He had an easy tone over a hard edge that reminded me of a police officer’s.

“Are…are you going to live here?”

He screwed off the top of the bottle and carbonation rushed up. He took a large swallow and wiped his forehead again before he answered my question. “Do you have a problem with a Latino neighbor?”

My head heated with embarrassment, realizing he thought I meant something else entirely. “No, no, I mean, I thought…I was scared that you might tear the place down. I love this house. I have since I was a child.  I used to imagine it all fixed up and with a nice garden.”

He studied me for a minute. Some of the hardness left his eyes.

“Do you want to see what I’ve done?” he asked. “It’s nothing exciting at the moment. Just tearing out the rot and pulling out old wiring.”

My “yes” came out like a rush of breath.

He followed me up the stairs. I noticed he used his hands when he spoke. He didn’t flick them about in abrupt gestures like Sharee. He spread his fingers over the walls when he talked about trying to save as much of the old wood as he could. He tugged at the old electrical wires when he explained how he would have to rewire the house and add blown insulation. When he said we should go to the other room, he placed his hand on the back of my shoulder to lead me. The pressure of his fingers sent a giddy yet gentle sensation over my skin. I had been in the same room with Jeff over a year ago, his hand on me as well. But with Victor, I wasn’t afraid.

Through the dusty windows, I could see the tops of the pecan trees. The sky was darkening to purple and the chirping of cicadas drifted up from the grass.  Beyond the grove, flames flickered from the citronella candles Mr. Powell was setting about his mama’s patio.

“I have to go,” I said, although I didn’t want to. For a moment, I stood still, letting my gaze drift over the walls and thin boards running across the high ceiling.  “I’m glad you’re fixing it up,” I whispered.

As he followed me down the stairs, he had to grip the railing so hard that his knuckles whitened.  I almost reached out to hold his elbow like I did Mrs. Powell’s, but I stopped myself.

At the back door, he held out his hand. “It was nice to meet you,” I said.

I put my hand in his. There was a reassurance in his touch. His eyes were guarded, but an easy smile played on his lips. I wondered about all he had seen in the war – perhaps the death of his friends or Iraqi people. What was he doing when he was hurt? Had a bomb gone off?  How long had he been in the hospital? Could the doctors save his leg, or did he wear a prosthetic?

“I enjoyed meeting you as well,” he said, and held on for another moment, before releasing my fingers. “If you want to come back, you know, I will be here most late afternoons and weekends.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling my neck and face flush. I turned and hurried down the ramp, feeling self-conscious. But I realized I was being ungracious and spun back around.

“I’m always here,” I said. My nerves were crackling, and I fell over my words. “I – I can bring you food. And—and I can help you. I mean, if you want…”

The wind blew Victor’s hair, and his skin looked golden in the jewel light of dusk. “I would like that,” he said softly.

Warmth flooded my chest and took my breath, like I had come across an old, almost-forgotten photograph from years ago. As if this moment was already a cherished memory.

 

The End

 

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