Guest Post : Elizabeth Gibson, née Smith (1646-1692), ‘My Dear Wife’

Today, we are honoured to have Sara visit our blog, so bear with us while we travel slightly further back in time with her whilst she tells us the story of one early modern woman. Sara’s book Maids, Wives, Widows: Exploring Early Modern Women’s Lives 1540-1740 (Pen and Sword, 2015) is currently on special offer for a fraction of its RRP from her website .

Maids, Wives, Widows: Exploring Early Modern Women's Lives 1540-1740 by Sara Read. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Maids-Wives-Widows-Exploring-Modern/dp/1473823404

Recently, I wrote an account of the life and times of Dr Thomas Gibson (1648/9–1722) for Early Modern Medicine. Gibson is best known for his book The Anatomy of Humane Bodies Epitomised (at least six editions from 1682), but he was briefly physician-general to the British Army while in his 70s. He is also known in the context of his second wife, Anne Cromwell, who was a granddaughter of the Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell.

Frontispiece of The Anatomy of Humane Bodies Epitomized by Thomas Gibson, 1697.While researching the piece, I read about how Gibson’s first wife, Elizabeth (1646–1692) was a widow from Stanstead St Margaret’s, Hertfordshire.  Most accounts of Thomas Gibson describe Elizabeth as the widow of Zephaniah Cresset, which indeed she was, but what is left out is that Elizabeth was also widowed a second time,  before marrying Gibson in 1684.

The information about Elizabeth’s life comes from her third husband who published an autobiography along with her funeral sermon, A Sermon Preach’d on the Occasion of the Funeral of Mrs Elizabeth Gibson, together with a Short Account of her Life (London, 1692), shortly after her death at the age of 46.

Gibson opens by describing how his wife had lately lived a quiet, retired life, and that she was a deeply pious woman who spent her days in charitable endeavours and prayer, and who unfortunately did not enjoy good health.  He hoped her life story might provide an instructional text and others should follow her example. He claimed he was best placed to represent her life and views because of his ‘long Conversation’ with his late wife but also how he had observed her Christian walking. Their marriage was in fact only around eight years long, but it was a full six years before Gibson made a new marriage to Anne.  Throughout the short autobiography, Gibson quotes extensively from Elizabeth’s spiritual meditations,  explaining to the reader that her words will always be surrounded by ‘Double comma’s’ (sic) or speech marks.

Elizabeth was the third daughter of a lawyer, George Smith who practiced at Grey’s Inn, London, and who was appointed judge to Scotland in 1658. He died shortly after the family relocated to Edinburgh and Elizabeth described how vulnerable she, her mother, Hannah, and younger sister felt at being alone in a strange place 300 miles from their nearest relatives. Her father’s death then was the first of the ‘great afflictions’ which Elizabeth lived through.  Soon afterwards and from the age of fourteen, Elizabeth contracted a ‘Quatane-ague’ which she had for two years.  It was Gibson’s opinion that this illness was the root of all the subsequent ill-health Elizabeth endured.

It was when she was 17, and somewhat recovered, that she was married to Zephaniah Cresset. Cresset was the son of Edward Cresset Master of the alms house and school Charter-House in London from 1650-1660, but was like Elizabeth, from Stanstead St Margaret’s in Hertfordshire – indeed the Smith and Cresset family graves are alongside one another in the same church(1).

Stanstead St Margarets Church, Hertfordshire
Stanstead St Margarets Chuch, Hertfordshire via stiffleaf

Zephaniah was educated at Magdalene College, Oxford and who was planning on working as a doctor of physic in the future. The Cresset marriage only lasted a few months. The couple were living in Elizabeth’s mother’s home at St Margaret’s, and while travelling back there from London Zephaniah fell from his horse, which caused him to contract a fever and he died within a few days of the fall.

While still a teenager, Elizabeth found herself both widowed and expecting her first child. Her son, named after his father, was born seven months after her husband’s death. Worse was to come when the child, a healthy and thriving toddler died suddenly aged just 18 months in October 1665. Elizabeth’s younger sister Mary, died at this time too, both were victims of the Great Plague which swept the country that year, and which claimed five members of Elizabeth’s family, including her father-in-law (who died in December 1665).

Her family began putting pressure on Elizabeth to remarry almost immediately, but it was around three years later that she felt moved by God to marry a physician called Thomas Dawson. Dawson graduated with a medical degree from Jesus College, Cambridge in summer 1669, and was admitted to the College of Physicians a decade later. Elizabeth and Thomas were married for almost fourteen years, and it was a source of great sadness to her that they had no children together.

Throughout the marriage it seems that she suffered from bouts of ill-health including gallstones, colic, bowel problems and jaundice. Like during her first marriage, the couple lived with Elizabeth’s mother in St Margaret’s, but following her mother’s death in 1677 and the couple relocated to London.

The Royal College of Physicians, Warwick Lane, London: Interior of the Courtyard; after Samuel Wale (1721-1786). Wellcome Library
The Royal College of Physicians, Warwick Lane, London: Interior of the Courtyard; after Samuel Wale (1721-1786). Wellcome Library

In 1682, Elizabeth went back to her country home to recuperate from the measles. She had not been there long when she got the sad news that Dr Dawson had died suddenly in their London house. He was buried in St Alphage, Cripplegate (2).

Gibson describes how this latest bereavement caused her to suffer from ‘hysterical Colick’ for a ‘year or two’ afterwards.  It was two and half years after losing her second husband that Elizabeth married Gibson. She was never wholly well during their entire seven year marriage, suffering from loss of appetite, vomiting, diarrhoea, painful limbs, and even convulsions.

It seems as though she still had some hopes of a family when she wrote a will on 20 December 1687. In it she bequeathed lands she owned in Hertfordshire to her husband, followed by any children she might yet bear him. She also placed on record her desire to be buried back at St Margaret’s next to her mother and son (3).

While the autobiography describes Elizabeth’s exemplary Christian suffering and ‘good death’, it does not appear that her stated wish to be buried back in St Margaret’s was accommodated and her place of rest is not noted.

Maladies & Medicines: Exploring Health and Healing, 1540 - 1740 by Sara Read and Jennifer Evans. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Maladies-Medicine-Exploring-Health-Healing/dp/1473875714If this post has piqued your interest in health matters at this time, Sara’s next book Maladies and Medicines: Exploring Health and Healing, 1540-1740, co-authored with Dr Jennifer Evans, is coming out with Pen and Sword in July 2017! Keep an eye on Sara’s Twitter feed for more information (@saralread) and also Jennifer’s Twitter feed (@historianjen).

Dr Evans will also be appearing on  the ‘Inside Versailles programme with Greg Jenner and Kate Williams on BBC2, 26 May, so keep an eye out for it.

 

 

 

Sources

1 Sir Henry Chauncy, The Historical Antiquities of Hertfordshire (1826), p. 569.

2 Munk’s Roll: Volume 1: Thomas Dawson

3 Miscellanea Genealogica Et Heraldica and the British Archivist (1888), p. 195.

18th century paper and snuff box making

Today the majority of  us rely on computers, tablets, mobile phones etc. for communication, but obviously such things did not exist in the eighteenth-century when – shock horror – they used paper and hand-wrote everything. So once again we dip into a most useful book The London Tradesman for today’s article.

Beechey, William; Filmer Honywood; Parliamentary Art Collection; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/filmer-honywood-213695
Filmer Honywood by William Beechey; Parliamentary Art Collection

The process of manufacturing paper

The use of paper is an ancient invention so the writer of this book has provided a description of how paper was made in the mid eighteenth-century.

Our paper in Europe is made of linen rags; the rags are then picked, separated into parcels, according to their fineness, washed and whited; then they are carried to the paper mills, where they are pounded amongst water till they are reduced to a pulp. When they are beat to a due consistence, they are poured into a working tub where there is a frame of wire, commonly called the paper mould, which is composed of so many wires laid close to one another, equal to the dimensions of the sheet of paper designed to be made; and some of them disposed in the shape of the figure which is discovered in the paper when you hold it betwixt you and the light.

https://rhollick.wordpress.com/2014/06/17/paper-making-by-hand-3/
Drying Loft. From Diderot’s Encyclopedia

This frame the workman holds in both his hands and plunges it into the tub and takes it quickly up again. The water runs through the spaces between the wires and there remains nothing on the mould but the water pulp, in a thin coat which forms the sheet of paper.

A flannel cloth is laid upon the top of the mould as the paper turned off upon it; then they dip it as before and continue to supply the vessel with fresh matter as it decreases. The flannel cloth sucks up the remaining moisture and the paper, after some time will suffer to be handled and hung up to dry in place properly suited for the purpose.

British (English) School; Benjamin Tomkins; Abingdon Town Council; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/benjamin-tomkins-108298
British (English) School; Benjamin Tomkins; Abingdon Town Council

Snuff Boxes

The writer then describes the process of manufacturing of a French invention, snuff boxes.

Snuff boxes are made of the same material as paper; are to be had at Paris of any colour, but are most commonly black, as ebony and are actually as hard and durable as any made of wood, horn or tortoise-shell. They are made of linen rags, beat to a pulp, as if intended for paper. A large quantity of pulp is put into a vessel and the water allowed to drain off; the pulp is dried and coheres together in a hard vessel, and the water allowed to drain off; the pulp is dried and coheres together in a hard, uniform lump, out of which they turn upon the leath (lathe), boxes or any other kind of toys which for their novelty fetch a large price.

http://www.sellingantiques.co.uk/153324/rare-late-18th-century-french-large-papier-mache-mother-of-pearl-snuff-box-c1790/
Rare late 18th Century French large papier mache & mother of pearl snuff box, c.1790. Courtesy of Selling Antiques website.

He ends his article with a complaint about how much money is spent in the UK on paper purchased from France, Holland and Genoa who, according to the writer produce the best paper. The French excel in writing-paper and the Genoese in printing paper.

Basically, he is saying that the UK needs to ‘get its act together‘ and to produce a better quality of paper so that it stops buying from abroad!

 

Featured Image

Collier, John; Trompe l’oeil Painting; The Fitzwilliam Museum.

The Easter Hunt at Epping Forest by Henry William Bunbury, Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Collection

How did the Georgians socialize at Easter?

With Easter almost here, we would like to wish everyone a Happy Easter and share with you some snippets about the way Georgians spent their Easter with some extracts from the newspapers of the day – partying being the most obvious!

We begin with a letter of complaint, clearly from someone who didn’t appreciate many of the celebrations that took place during the year and felt it appropriate to vent his/her annoyance to the editor of the Whitehall Evening Post, we’re only focusing on a snippet from it about Easter though…

Whitehall Evening Post (1770), August 2, 1783 – August 5, 1783

Some things customary refer simply to the idea of feasting, according to the season and occasion. Of these, perhaps, are lambs-wool on Christmas eve; furmety on Mothering Sunday; Braggot (which is a mixture of ale, sugar and spices) at the festival of Easter … lamb at Easter to the Paschal Lamb. This, perhaps, may be the case also with respect to pancakes on Shrove Tuesday; unless that shall be supposed to allude to ‘the egg at Easter’ an emblem of the rising up out of the grave; in the same manner as the chick, entombed as it were in the egg, is in due time brought to life. So also the flowers, with which many churches are ornamented on Easter-day, are most probably intended as emblems of the resurrection having just risen from the earth during the severity of winter, they seem to have been buried.

A custom, which ought to be abolished as improper and indecent, prevails in many places of lifting, as it is called, on Easter Monday and Tuesday. Is this a memorial of Christ being raised from the grave? There is, at least some appearance of it; as there seems to be trace of the decent of the Holy Ghost on the heads of the Apostles in what passes at Whitsuntide fair in some parts of Lancashire; where one person hold a stick over the head of another, whilst a third, unperceived, strikes the stick, and thus gives a smart blow to the first. But this, probably is only local.

The Hampshire Chronicle, Sunday, March 31, 1788

Of the multitude of customs and ceremonies which formerly commanded attention at this season, but very few are preserved; it is however, universally considered as a time appropriate to recreation and innocent festivity. Amongst the common people it is even now a custom in the North to rise early, in order to see the sun dance. We suppose this o have arisen from some metaphorical expression in the sacred writings. Boys carry a vessel of water into the fields, that the sun may seem to dance from the tremulous motion of the water.

Paper eggs, properly pasche eggs, are stained of different colors and covered with gold leaf, and given to young children in the North of England as a fairing. This is a relic of Popish superstition; an egg being considered a type of the resurrection. This custom prevails in Russia; a long account may be seen in Hackluyt’s voyages. Dr. Chandler also in his travels in Asia Minor says ‘they made us presents of coloured eggs and cakes of Easter bread’.

Durand says, that on Easter Tuesday wives used to beat their husbands, on the day following husbands beat their wives.

Thomas Girtin (1775ー1802) Durham Cathedral and Castle(c.1800)
Thomas Girtin (1775ー1802) Durham Cathedral and Castle(c.1800)

In the city of Durham the following custom is still preserved: On one day the men take off the women’s shoes, which are only to be redeemed by a small present. On another day the women take off the men’s in a like manner.

Tansy
Tansy

In Yorkshire tansy puddings and cakes are made, which custom Seldon, in his ‘Table Talk‘, has referenced to the bitter herbs which the Jews greatly use at this season.

At Newcastle, on Easter Monday a great match is always played at hand ball for a great tansy cake.

Many other incidents might be enumerated, most of which are obsolete, and many generally forgotten; we sincerely however regret, that the memory of anything should be lost, which, by introducing innocent merriment, strengthens the sweet bond of social life.

The Hampshire Chronicle, Monday, April 28, 1794

Westminster Abbey and Bridge from Horseferry, Lambeth, British School; Government Art Collection
Westminster Abbey and Bridge from Horseferry, Lambeth, British School; Government Art Collection

Greenwich

The belles and beaux, from the fineness of the weather, exceeded far, very far, any number that ever were seen at that favourite spot. From six to eight o’clock, on their return to London, it was one continued throng of holiday people of all ranks and descriptions, from Greenwich park to Westminster bridge. There was no resisting the torrent; and many an honest young woman who was so yesterday morning, will have fatal cause to repent, before this day twelvemonth, the frolic of tumbling down the hill in the park – drunkenness, riots, battles and thefts, as usual, dignified the proceedings. Not less than one hundred thousand persons were present.

Londoners Gypsying (The Family Holiday Party, in Epping Forest, near London) by Charles Robert Leslie, 1820; The Geffrye, Museum of the Home
Londoners Gypsying (The Family Holiday Party, in Epping Forest, near London) by Charles Robert Leslie, 1820; The Geffrye, Museum of the Home

Epping Forest

At ten in the morning, at least ten thousand equestrians and pedestrians were upon the forest: every species of vehicle from the hand cart and buggy to the light waggon and splendid chariot was there. At one, the stag, bedecked with ribbons was turned out on Fairmaid Bottom – and then the fun began, with running, riding, crossing, jostling, tumbling, hooting, shouting, screaming and howling; which formed the scene that may be seen, but cannot possibly be described, and that indeed never before was exhibited but in a nation of madmen. At four, the stag was at bay in a thicket, near the Royal Oak and was taken and put in a cart and with continual shouts was brought to the starting house in order to afford fresh sport in future.

Easter Monday, or, The cockney hunt Rowlandson 1807 Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library
Easter Monday, or, The cockney hunt Rowlandson 1807 Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

 

Featured Image

The Easter Hunt at Epping Forest by Henry William Bunbury, Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Collection

Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807), RA, by Daniel Gardener (1750-1805), Government Art Collection

Orange, a fashionable colour in the Georgian Era

With the weather improving and summer on the way, the fashion colours for 2017 according to Vogue, are ‘Eye-popping fuchsia, zingy yellow and tropical green’ … ‘an array of all the colours of the rainbow’.

http://www.vogue.co.uk/gallery/spring-summer-2017-colour-trends
Spring/Summer 2017 fashion trends from Vogue

Whilst the ‘eye-popping and zingy‘ colours didn’t exist as such in the Georgian era, women did wear strong, vibrant colours as we’ve already seen in our post – Fashionable Blues of the 18th Century.

One of the more vibrant fashion colours of the Georgian era was orange as we can see in the following paintings.

Portrait of an unknown woman. University of Aberdeen
Portrait of an Unknown Woman; University of Aberdeen

Reds, golds and oranges were all the rage, but achieving such colours for silk was complex and time consuming as we can see here from The laboratory, or school of arts in which are faithfully exhibited and fully explain’d, Godfrey Smith 1740′.

To dye silk and orange colour

After you have cleaned your kettle well, fill it with clean rain-water, and take to each pound of silk four ounces of pot ashes, and four ounces of orlean, sift it through a sieve into the kettle; when it is well melted, and you have taken care not to let any of those ingredients stick about the kettle, then put your silk, which before you have prepared and allum’d as has been directed; turn it round on the winch and let it boil up, then take and wring it out, beat it and rinse it; then prepare another kettle, and take to each pound of silk twelve ounces of gallnuts, let the gall nuts boil for two hours, then cool for the same space of time; after which put in the silk for three or four hours, then wring it out, rinse, beat and dry it.

Mary Liddell (d.1741), Mrs Myddelton by Peter Tillemans; National Trust, Chirk Castle
Mary Liddell (d.1741), Mrs Myddelton by Peter Tillemans; National Trust, Chirk Castle

Another Orange Colour

Soak the white silk in allum (alum) water like as you do in dying of yellow; then take two ounces of orleans yellow, put it overnight in water together with one ounce of post ashes: boil it up, add to it, after it has boil’d half an hour, once ounce of powdered cuccumi, stir it with a stick, and after a little while put your allum’d silk into it for two or three hours, according to what height you would have your colour, then rinse it out in clear soap-suds, til it looks clear, afterwards clear it in fair water and dress it according to art.

Portrait of an Unknown Lady in an Orange Dress with a Lap Dog by Herman van der Myn; National Trust, Middlethorpe Hall
Portrait of an Unknown Lady in an Orange Dress with a Lap Dog by Herman van der Myn; National Trust, Middlethorpe Hall
Marie Antoinette and her children (1787), Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun © Photo : RMN-Grand Palais (Château de Versailles)
Marie Antoinette and her children (1787), Elisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun © Photo : RMN-Grand Palais (Château de Versailles)

The Fashion 200 years ago

By the time we reached 1817, fashion had changed completely from those raunchy earlier Georgians to the more demure look of the those ladies of the Regency Era and more pastel shades, as we can see in Ackermann’s Repository which provided guidance as to what the well dressed woman should be wearing in the Summer of 1817.

The Repository of arts, literature, commerce, manufactures, fashions and politics, by Ackermann, Rudolph, 1764-1834 Left – Dinner Dress – a round dress, composed of jaconot muslin, embroidered in small roses. Right – Evening Dress – A plain rich white ganze dress over a white satin slip
The Repository of arts, literature, commerce, manufactures, fashions and politics, by Ackermann, Rudolph, 1764-1834 Left – Dinner Dress – a round dress, composed of jaconot muslin, embroidered in small roses. Right – Evening Dress – A plain rich white ganze dress over a white satin slip

We simply had to finish this post with a pair of chopines from the late seventeenth- to early eighteenth-century – we know they’re not quite orange – more of a salmon pink, but they were far to impressive to not include. Walking in those must have been a nightmare, especially with their long gowns, but we would love to give it a go.

http://www.mfa.org/collections/object/one-of-a-pair-of-womens-chopines-122245
Courtesy of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

 

Featured Image

Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807), RA, by Daniel Gardener (1750-1805), Government Art Collection

All Things History – Roundup for March 2017

We simply can’t believe how quickly the months are flying by, but here we are at the end of the first quarter of 2017, so as always we have a super selection of blogs to share with you. Enjoy!

Forthergil’s Chymical Nervous Drops

‘Wicked’ William and Catherine: Society Wedding of the Regency Era

Dog Funerals in the Late Victorian Era

Child Dropping in the Regency 

Frederica of Baden

Birth of the ‘Forensic Kit’ or ‘Murder Bag’

A Little House that Survived a Major Battle, 1777

Revisiting the Remarkable Emilie du Châtelet

The First Texas Novel

Model of the Perfect Woman, Georgian Style

Robert Adam’s Bumpy Career Start

A Prank too far

HMS Guardian 1789 – An Epic Battle for Survival 

Brief History of the Giraffe: the Mammal Formerly know as the Cameleopard

The Trouble with Bustles: Victorian Fashion In The 19th Century News

 

 

How to set up a school in 1770

We came across this book published anonymously in 1770 with containing full instructions for someone who wished to set up their own academy – a sort of ‘how to‘ guide. It was very lengthy but we thought you might find some of the instructions below quite interesting, the link highlighted above will take you to the full book.

Are you desirous of engaging in the management of an Academy? Are you in low circumstances? Are you a broken attorney, or excise-man? A disbanded Frenchman, or superannuated clerk? Offer your service for a trifling consideration; declaim on the roguery of requiring large sums, and make yourself amends in the inferior articles; quills, paper, ink, books, candles, fire, extraordinary expenses, taylors and shoe-maker’s bills, are excellent items in academy-accounts. You may charge them as amply as you please, without injury to your reputation.

Twenty-five pounds is the least you can ask. Nor are you to neglect to avail yourself of the preceding items; but deem it a general rule that your extraordinary advantages are to bear a direct proportion to your stated terms.

Keating, George; The School Door; Museum of English Rural Life; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/the-school-door-27031
Keating, George; The School Door; Museum of English Rural Life

Advertising

If you have promised to confine your attention to a trifling number by advertising that one or two are still wanting, or by decreasing your terms, attempt immediately to retract this promise.

Apply to your first benefactors; hope they will permit you to accommodate a few pretty little masters, sons of Mr. Such-a-one, who may be of the greatest service to you. They will not deny you; they will consider it as a proof of your rising reputation.

When advertising for boys does not answer, advertisements for servants may probably succeed. The following is an approved copy.

Wanted at an academy near London three domestics; A complete penman, accomptant, and mathematician, with an undeniable character: A steady careful person capable of teaching the English language grammatically, and willing to attend the children to bed:  A cleanly sober wench to look after the children’s linen, and do other occasional work

By properly publishing advertisements like this, you will seldom fail of attracting the attention of the public.

If you are at any time desirous of enlarging your terms, expostulate plentifully on your intended improvements, and the large stipends your assistants require. Your expenses are extremely great, and the business above measure fatiguing; you have been long accustomed to children, and are fond of seeing them about you; and indeed, otherwise the business would be insupportable.

Diet

Among the first articles enquired after, both by parents and children, are those of the table.

You cannot therefore be too early instructed in the desirable art of giving all reasonable satisfaction in this matter, at the least possible expence.

  1. Remember then always, to see the fruit-basket amongst your boys before dinner. Fruit is least prejudicial to an empty stomach; and if the children will indulge themselves with biscuit and gingerbread, who can help it.
  2. If your number of boys or their allowances deserve not a fruit-woman’s attendance, then your wife may properly enough engage in the office; it will prevent the boys from being cheated, and be a proof of her humility.
  3. If there be no considerable parish work-house near you, it will be your interest to secure the stale loaves and neck-beef; the former is excellent in boiled milk or plumb-pudding, the latter in boullie for a Saturday’s dinner. The butchers and bakers you must remember have been time immemorial the best academy-ticks.
  4. The worse your fresh joints are dressed the better for you; the boys will eat the less, and it is always the cook’s fault.
  5. Whenever the boys find fault with the quality of your meat, appear at the head of your table, declare the extraordinary price you have given for it, and call your servants to witness that you sent for the best in the market.
  6. I allow of no pies except a little before the holidays. Delicacies and dainties are not to be expected in a school.
  7. The less salt, vinegar, pepper, &c. at dinner upon the table, so much the better; boys want no such provocatives.
  8. If you oblige your boys to eat all you send them, it will prevent the frequent return of their plates, and learn them an excellent custom; if not, what they leave will make excellent hashes, and seem more indulgent: in this point I find few who are agreed.
  9. If you are afraid they will eat more than you have provided, say grace.
van Host, P.; The Village School; Fairfax House; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/the-village-school-9873
The Village School by P van Host; Fairfax House

Lodging

  1. Few instructions may suffice on this head. The lighter the boys are covered, and the harder the bed, the more natural and more healthy.
  2. The fewer chamber-pots the better; it will prevent the boys catching cold by rising in the night, and make them unwilling to drink much beer at supper.
  3. The more you put in the bed the better also; it will endear them to each other, and prevent their playing wicked tricks.
  4. Lodge the great boys always farthest from you, it will prevent them disturbing you in the night. If they lie near the maids, so much the better; the maids may give you proper notice of their behaviour.
  5. Your usher must always be stowed amongst the little boys, to prevent them from tumbling out of bed, and to help them in the night.
  6. If you allow the occasional use of a close-stool, let it be locked up in the garret that they may not abuse it. But I rather approve of their easing themselves in some corner of the room, that they may have the less pleasure in resorting thither in the day-time, and tumbling the bed-clothes about; and that their mothers, who always pay a visit to the bed-chambers, may be sensible what trouble you have with them.
  7. Let the beds be always to be made, at the time of undressing. Going to bed is a thing the boys dislike. This little respite, therefore, will please them mightily, and they will please the maids.
the-schoolmasters-return
The schoolmasters return. Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

Recreation

  1. The more holidays the better; it will give the boys an opportunity of feeding themselves at their own expence, and, by tasking them well, you will prevent the complaints of their parents.
  2. Give a holiday always on public rejoicing-days; it will be considered as a proof of your loyalty; and let that day of the month on which your predecessor died, be always a feast for the boys; it is a tribute due to his memory.
  3. Send your boys always on a holiday to see something or other in the neighbourhood; it will please both them and their parents, prevent their lurking about the pantry, and employ your ushers.
  4. Boys commonly endeavour on these days to dispatch a letter or two privately. It will be your business to intercept them; they may be negligently written; there may be solecisms in them, or misrepresentations of facts, which might be displeasing to their friends.
lwlpr06274
A droll thought of Tom the school boy, or Two heads are better than one. Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

Discipline

  1. Remember always to exercise your first severity on poor people’s children, and day-scholars. The first floggings are a perpetual disgrace, and it is but reasonable that they should bear it, by whom you are least profited.
  2. Never punish the favourite of a family, if he have any younger brothers.
  3. Boys who bear flogging best are commonly those who most deserve it. If four be accused, therefore, he who bears flogging best is always in the fault.
  4. If a father gives you full power over his son’s posteriors, be not afraid to use it, but make him the scape-goat of the school as often as convenient.
  5. No good to be done with a boy who has not a good opinion of his master. If a boy, therefore, accuses you, or your ushers, of ignorance or incapacity, take the first opportunity to expel him, especially if he be clever, and likely to make a progress, in which you may be ill-qualified to accompany him.
  6. Severe discipline is never to be inflicted immediately before the school breaks up, or very soon after the return.
  7. Setting a maid upon her head, or pissing upon a mistress’s new gown, is a flogging matter, no more; it might look like partiality.
  8. The best punishment for idleness is confinement and short commons.

 

 

Featured Image

Courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library

Marquis de Lafayette and His Affair with Aglaé of Hunolstein

Today we are delighted to welcome back the author, Geri Walton. Geri has long been interested in history and fascinated by the stories of people from the 1700 and 1800s. This led her to get a degree in History and resulted in her website, which offers unique history stories from the eighteenth- and nineteenth-centuries.

Her first book, Marie Antoinette’s Confidante: The Rise and Fall of the Princesse de Lamballe, looks at the relationship between Marie Antoinette and the Princesse de Lamballe and has just been released in the U.S and Canada.

You can find Geri on Facebook , Twitter, Google Plus , Instagram and Pinterest.

Before we hand over to Geri we thought readers might like to know a little about her book:

Marie Antoinette has always fascinated readers worldwide. Yet perhaps no one knew her better than one of her closest confidantes, Marie Thérèse, the Princesse de Lamballe. The Princesse became superintendent of the Queen’s household in 1774, and through her relationship with Marie Antoinette, a unique perspective of the lavishness and daily intrigue at Versailles is exposed.

Born into the famous House of Savoy in Turin, Italy, Marie Thérèse was married at the age of seventeen to the Prince de Lamballe; heir to one of the richest fortunes in France. He transported her to the gold-leafed and glittering chandeliered halls of the Château of Versailles, where she soon found herself immersed in the political and sexual scandals that surrounded the royal court. As the plotters and planners of Versailles sought, at all costs, to gain the favor of Louis XVI and his Queen, the Princesse de Lamballe was there to witness it all.

This book reveals the Princesse de Lamballe’s version of these events and is based on a wide variety of historical sources, helping to capture the waning days and grisly demise of the French monarchy. The story immerses you in a world of titillating sexual rumors, blood-thirsty revolutionaries, and hair-raising escape attempts and is a must read for anyone interested in Marie Antoinette, the origins of the French Revolution, or life in the late 18th Century.

Geri’s book is available from Pen & Sword Books, Amazon and other leading bookshops.

So, on with the story…

Marquis de Lafayette, the same man who played a pivotal role in the French Revolution, had earlier become a hero in the American Revolution. He became a hero after being shot in the calf of his left leg during a battle. Although Lafayette’s wound was not that serious, it kept him out of action for a time. But more importantly, it generated buzz about his heroics back in Paris.

One person who heard about Lafayette’s wound in battle was the wife of Count Philippe-Antoine of Hunolstein. Her full name was Charlotte-Gabrielle-Elisabeth-Aglaé de Puget of Barbantane. Aglaé, as she was called, was a charmer who possessed the duo attributes of being extraordinarily bright and exquisitely beautiful. In fact, even women who did not like her admitted that she was beautiful, and men were all the more vociferous in their praises of her.

Aglaé, Countess of Hunolstein. Public Domain

Aglaé was born around 1755 to parents that had good connections with the Orléans family. In fact, Aglaé’s mother was governess to the Duchess of Bourbon, and she was the sister of the Duke of Chartres who was later known as the Duke of Orléans and still later as Philippe Égalité. He was also cousin to King Louis XVI.

Despite Agalé’s supposed close connection with the Orléans family, it seems the Duchess of Bourbon decided Aglaé possessed such “depraved inclinations” that she became “determined not have her in her retinue.” So, instead, Aglaé found herself serving the Duchess of Chartres, who was wife to the Duke of Chartres and also sister-in-law to the ill-fated Princesse de Lamballe.

This position was convenient as Agalé’s husband was one of the Duke of Chartres’s gentlemen. Thus, the Hunolstein’s life consisted of many similar amusements attended by the Duke and Duchess of Chartres. Moreover, the Hunolstein’s found themselves attending balls, operas, and the theatre with some of the most important members of French society.

Louis Philippe d’Orléans, as Duke of Chartres, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, ca. 1779. Courtesy of Wikipedia

The Duke of Chartres also provided frequent gaieties at his palatial Palais Royal, of which the Hunolstein’s regularly attended. The Duke of Chartres liked to live life with gusto. He was well-known for his womanizing and orgiastic festivals of lovemaking. Furthermore, he was known for his outlandish pranks:

[Once] after dinner the duke harnessed eight horses to his coach, seated himself astride … put the Princesse de Lamballe in the coach-box, his wife in the carriage and Aglaé behind her in the lackey’s place, and then rode lickety-split through the fashionable Faubourg St.-Honoré and Chaillot back to Mousseaux.

Passers-by could only imagine what the Duke of Chartres had in store as he flew past in a carriage full of women. The fact that Agalé participated in the prank shows a high degree of intimacy with the Duke. Moreover, indications are that she may have preceded the Duke’s next lover, Stéphanie Félicité du Crest de Saint-Aubin, better known as Madame de Genlis, who made no secret that she disliked Aglaé immensely.

Princesse de Lamballe by Antoine-François Callet, ca. 1776. Courtesy of Wikipedia

Despite Aglaé’s intimate relationship with the Duke, Lafayette practically came to blows with someone else over her. Louis-Philippe, Count of Ségur, who descended from a noble and ancient military family, was friends with Lafayette. According to Ségur, after Lafayette became secretly attached to Aglaé, he somehow erroneously conceived the idea that Ségur was his rival.

Ségur reported that the red-headed Lafayette was mad with jealousy over Aglaé and could think of no one else. Once, under this spell of passion, Lafayette spent an entire night trying to induce Ségur to fight a duel for her. Agalé apparently knew nothing at the time of Lafayette’s attempt to fight a duel or of his jealous passion for her.

Madame de La Fayette. Courtesy of Wikipedia

While Lafayette was fighting in America and continuing to make a name for himself, he was frequently sidetracked thinking about Aglaé. He even went so far as to write her a letter that was bundled with other letters, including some to Lafayette’s wife, Adrienne. Then in April, Lafayette received a packet of letters back.

Among the letters was one that did not make Lafayette happy. There was “a disturbing report about malicious gossip in Paris coupling his name with that of Aglaé.” Apparently, according to Lafayette, a mean trick had been played that consisted of a song about his relationship with Aglaé. Lafayette further clarified the incident in a letter to his brother-in-law:

The outcome of that pleasantry will probably be to make her forever unhappy and to make me come to swords’ points with a man against whom I can in all conscience defend myself only halfway. But the society of Paris will console itself with a song … It hurts to have them come two thousand leagues looking for me to be the hero of the current scandal and for a woman who is two thousand leagues from the flirtations and intrigues of Paris to make her the victim of some wicked fiction. Let me know, my dear brother, whether they speak to you about it as a joke or if they really make a serious bit of malice out of it.

Of all the glories heaped upon Lafayette, perhaps the most thrilling was the attention that Aglaé paid to him when he returned from America as a hero. Juicy rumours sprang up immediately accusing Lafayette and Aglaé of being more than mere friends. Before long, their relationship proved too conspicuous, too passionate, and too scandalous.

Their relationship also drew criticism from Algaé’s family, particularly her mother, the Marquise de Barbanily. Despite Aglaé’s husband being seemingly fine with Algaé’s relationship with Lafayette, the Marquise was livid about it. The Marquise thought Lafayette was too well-known and her daughter too obvious. Moreover, the Marquise hated the gossip and begged Aglaé to return to her husband. Lafayette made a half-hearted attempt to meet and smooth things over with Aglaé’s mother, but the meeting never came to fruition.

From the start, Lafayette and Aglaé’s love affair proved unhappy. Although Lafayette’s wife remained faithful and loyal behind the scenes, Adrienne’s family was extremely unhappy with the situation. Their unhappiness in turn made Lafayette unpopular at Louis XVI’s court, and Aglaé was shunned. Moreover, Algaé’s old lover, the Duke of Chartres, annoyed Lafayette and Aglaé at every turn.

Lafayette and Aglaé’s relationship was supposedly full of passion. Yet, with passion also came many brutal lover quarrels. Allegedly, during nearly every fight, she told Lafayette she wanted to end their relationship. Lafayette always refused to accept it.

Lafayette reputedly begged Aglaé to give him an explanation as to why their relationship should end, and then whatever she said, he refused to accept. He moped about and then became angry or persistent until he somehow convinced her to continue their relationship. Eventually, however, Aglaé begged him to leave Paris and to think about the painfulness of her situation as the constant gossip proved distressing to her.

Lafayette’s birthplace, Château de Chavaniac. Courtesy of Wikipedia

Lafayette finally relented. In March of 1783 he travelled the dusty roads to his birthplace in Chavaniac. Lafayette had not been back there for ten years. The time and distance allowed him to think clearly, and he came to a momentous decision. His letter began, “You are too cruel, my dear Aglaé. You realize my heart’s torments,” and it ended with him reluctantly releasing her for good.

You put in my hands your peace of mind, your safety, and much more … You understand the extent of my sacrifice. … I will silence my heart. [However,] all that you are, all that I owe to you, justifies my love, and nothing, not even you would keep me from adoring you.

Although Aglaé may have thought all the gossip would stop when her relationship with Lafayette ended, it did not. In fact, one critic penned that Aglaé was “a woman who was outwardly a prude though inwardly corrupt.” There were also new claims that she was leading a dissolute life, had delivered Chartres’s child, and was currently pregnant by a lackey. Her own family became resentful towards her, perhaps even disowned her, and, thus, she gave up public life and entered a convent.

 

References:

Louis Gottschalk, Lady-in-Waiting: The Romance of Lafayette and Aglaé de Hunolstein, Baltimore: The John Hopkins Press, 1939.

Gottschalk, Louis. Lafayette in America. Arveyres, France: L’Esprit de Lafayette Society, 1975.

Ségur, Louis P. d. Memoirs and recollections of Count Segur … Written by himself … Translated from the French. Boston: E. Bliss and E. White, 1825.

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Marquis de Lafayette as a General in 1791. Courtesy of Wikipedia

A Right Royal Scandal:Two Marriages That Changed History

We’re absolutely thrilled to announce for our followers in the USA and Canada that our latest book, A Right Royal Scandal: Two Marriages That Changed History, has just been launched ‘across the pond’. We have added a link on the sidebar that will take you directly to the page on Amazon, should you wish to order through them. It is also available through other retailers too.

For those who have already pre-ordered it, we have been advised that it should be on its way to you very shortly and we really hope that you enjoy it – do let us know your thoughts and don’t forget we’re always here to answer any questions you may have.

A Right Royal Scandal: Two Marriages That Changed History by Joanne Major and Sarah Murden. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Right-Royal-Scandal-Marriages-Changed/dp/1473863422

In the past couple of days we have written a couple of guest blogs. We are delighted to be featured on Laurie Benson’s site, talking about The Allied Sovereign’s Visit to England, 1814, and its connection to Lord Charles Bentinck who is featured in our book.

Phillips, Thomas; The Allied Sovereigns at Petworth, 24 June 1814 (George, 1751-1837, 3rd Earl of Egremont, with His Children Looking on, is presented by George, Prince Regent, to Tsar Alexander I of Russia in the Marble Hall at Petworth with the King of Prussia, Frederick William III); National Trust, Petworth House

Our second blog is hosted by Geri Walton, who covers both the eighteenth- and nineteenth-centuries on her site, so for Geri we have penned a somewhat later piece about The Marriage of Lord Glamis and Miss Cavendish Bentinck in 1881. Again, it has a connection to A Right Royal Scandal.

Fashion plate from 1881 Revue de la Mode (Historia mody/History of Fashion by Kajani)

If you would like to find out more about either or both of these then please do head over to their blogs by following the highlighted links above.

UPDATE

A Right Royal Scandal is also now available in Canada too so if you’re in Canada please follow this link for Amazon.ca

 

Fortune-Telling using Moles

Yes, this is folklore, unless anyone can confirm otherwise, and no, we are not talking about the small furry creature kind of moles! These are often referred to as birth marks or beauty marks and judging back the lack of images we have been able to find depicting people with moles, it seems likely that the artists of the day possibly ignored these.

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According to ‘Every lady’s own fortune-teller, or an infallible guide to the hidden decrees of fate, being a new & regular system for foretelling future events’ which was published towards the end of the 1700s, experience shows that the presence of moles can provide clues as to one’s future. So do let us know if you have a mole and if the statement pertaining to it is true – we would love to know.

First it is necessary to know the size of the mole, its colour, whether it is perfectly round, oblong or angular because each of those will add to, or diminish the force of the indication. The larger the mole, the great will be the propensity or adversity of the person; the smaller the mole, the less will be his good or bad luck.

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A mole on either cheek signifies that the person never shall rise above mediocrity in the point of fortune, though at the same time he never will sink to real poverty. Image courtesy of Lewis Walpole

If the mole is round, it forebodes good; if oblong, a moderate share of fortunate events; if angular, it indicates a mixture of good and evil.

The deeper its colour, the more it announces favour or disgrace; the lighter the less of either.

If it is very hairy, much misfortune is to be expected, but if few long hairs grow upon it, it denotes that your undertakings will be prosperous.

We will further remark only, that moles of the middling and common size and colour are those we speak; the rest may be gathered from what we have said above; but as it may frequently happen that modesty will sometimes hinder persons from showing their moles, you must depend upon their own representation of the for your opinion.

A mole that stands on the right side of the forehead or right temple, signifies that the person will arrive to sudden wealth and honour.

On the right eyebrow, announces speedy marriage, and that the person to whom you will be married will possess many amiable qualities and a good fortune. On the left of either of those three places, announces unexpected disappointment in your most sanguine wishes.

A mole on the outside corner of either eye, denotes the person to be of a steady, sober and sedate disposition; but will be liable to a violent death.

A mole on either cheek signifies that the person never shall rise above mediocrity in the point of fortune, though at the same time he never will sink to real poverty.

A mole on the nose, shows that the person will have good luck in most of his or her undertakings.

A mole on the lip, either upper or lower proves the person to be fond of delicate things, and very much given to the pleasures of love, in which he or she will commonly be successful.

A mole on the chin, shows that the person will be attended with great propensity and be highly esteemed.

A mole of the side of the neck show that the person will narrowly escape suffocation, but afterwards rise to great consideration by an unexpected legacy or inheritance.

A mole on the throat denotes that the person shall become rich by marriage.

A mole on the right breast, declares the person to be exposed to a sudden reverse of comfort to distress, by unavoidable accidents; most of his children will be girls. A mole on the left breast, signifies success in undertakings, an amorous disposition and that most of his children will be boys. Under the left breast over the heart shows that a man will be of a warm disposition, unsettled in mind, fond of ramblings, and light in his conduct; in a woman, it shows sincerity in love, quick conception and easy travail in childbirth.

A mole of the belly denotes the person to be addicted to sloth and gluttony; selfish in almost all articles and seldom inclined to be nice or careful in point of dress.

A mole on either hip shows that the person will have many children and that such of them a survive will be healthy, lusty and patient of hardships.

A mole of the right thigh shows that the person will become rich and have good luck in marriage. On the left, denotes that the person suffers much by poverty and want of friends.

A mole on the right knee, signifies that the person will be fortunate in the choice of a partner for life and meet with few disappointments in the world. One on the left knee portends that the person will be rash, inconsiderate and hasty, but modest in cool blood, honest and inclined to good behaviour in every sense of the word.

A mole on either ankle denotes a man to be inclined to effeminacy and elegance of dress: a woman to be courageous, active and industrious.

A mole on either foot forebodes sudden illness or unexpected misfortune.

A mole on the right shoulder signifies prudence, discretion and wisdom. On the left, declares a testy contention and ungovernable spirit.

A mole on the right arm denotes vigour and undaunted courage; on the left resolution in battle.

A mole near either elbow denotes restlessness, a roving and unsteady temper, also a discontentedness with those the person is obliged to live constantly with.

A mole between the elbow and the wrist promises the person prosperity, but not until he has undergone many hardships.

A mole on the finger or between it and the ends of the fingers, signifies industry, fidelity and conjugal affection.

A mole on any part of the shoulders to the loins signifies imperceptible decline and gradual decay, whether of health or wealth.

A mole on the loins shows vigour, especially in the duties of love.

 

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Fashionable Blues of the 18th century

No-one seems quite sure how the colour blue became associated with the feeling of sadness, some say its origins lay back in Greek mythology whilst others say it has links to the devil. Whatever the true origin, how could anyone possibly feel blue wearing these sumptuous gowns that we’re going to take a look at?

A Lady in Blue 1757 Arthur Devis 1711-1787 Bequeathed by Alan Evans 1974 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/T01884
A Lady in Blue 1757 by Arthur Devis. Tate
A Lady in Blue 1757 Arthur Devis 1711-1787 Bequeathed by Alan Evans 1974 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/T01884

So many shades of blue exist, from the palest baby blue to darkest navy blue and everything in-between and the colour was clearly very popular during the Georgian era. Given the amazing array of paintings sadly we only have space to share  few with you, but we do hope you enjoy them.

http://www.rollins.edu/cornell-fine-arts-museum/collection/european-art/european-16th-19th-century-portraiture.html
Portrait of La Comtesse de Beaufort, c, 1760 by Louis Michel van Loo. Gift of the Honorable Marilyn Logsdon Menello and Michael A. Menello, in honor of Rollins College President Rita Bornstein, Cornell Fine Arts Museum.

van-loo-louis-michel-la-comtesse-de-beaufort-detail

An interesting point worth noting about these paintings is that to be create the impression of fabric required a very specific skill and it seems, not a skill that some of the most famous artists had, so they employed  ‘drapery painters’ to paint the more intricate and detailed aspects of fabrics, to ensure that they looked as natural as possible. One of these, who was regarded as being amongst the best was Joseph Van Aken. Another was Peter Toms who was one of founding members of the Royal Academy.

Sir Godfrey Kneller. Portrait of Mrs. Bagnal, Circa 1690 - 1720  courtesy of 1tsdibs
Sir Godfrey Kneller. Portrait of Mrs. Bagnal, Circa 1690 – 1720

Mr James Peters was Kneller’s drapery painter so it seems highly likely that he painted this stunning blue dress.

godfreyknellermrs_bagnelfullframed_l

We came across this description in The London Tradesman, of exactly what a drapery painter’s role was so thought you might find it interesting.

The drapery painter is but the lowest degree of a liberal painter; he is employed in dressing the figures, after the painter has finished the face, given the figure its proper attitude and drawn the outlines of the dress or drapery.

A portrait painter who is well employed, has not time to cloath his figures, and therefore employs a drapery painter to finish that part of the work.

This workman must have a tolerable notion of painting in general; but his chief skill consists in his knowledge of colours and the mixing of them, to produce proper shades; for the painter generally draws the outline and leave him to fill up the empty space with proper colours.

The drapery painters are generally employed in signpost drawing, and other sorts of painting that do not require a masterly hand: they have commonly but a dull genius and a mere mechanical head: however, those who are eminent in their way and in the employ of a noted master make very handsome bread; they may sometimes earn a guinea a day, and must be mere bunglers if they cannot make half a guinea.

Their education may be as low as you please; but as in all other branches that handle the pencil, they ought to be early acquainted with the use of it: the sooner they are bound apprentices the greater proficiency they may be expected to make. A sober disposition and a sound constitution are absolutely requisite.

unknown artist; Daughter of a 7th Dragoon Guards Officer; The Military Museum of the Royal Dragoon Guards; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/daughter-of-a-7th-dragoon-guards-officer-10251
unknown artist; Daughter of a 7th Dragoon Guards Officer; The Military Museum of the Royal Dragoon Guards

And our final selection:

495px-sir_joshua_reynolds_-_portrait_of_miss_elizabeth_greenway
Miss Elizabeth Greenway by Sir Joshua Reynolds
Romney, George; Miss Sophia Musters; Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/miss-sophia-musters-144612
Miss Sophia Musters by George Romney; Tullie House Museum and Art Gallery
Romney, George; Margaret Messenger (b.1737), Mrs Walter Strickland; National Trust, Sizergh Castle; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/margaret-messenger-b-1737-mrs-walter-strickland-132097
Margaret Messenger (b.1737), Mrs Walter Strickland by George Romney; National Trust, Sizergh Castle

Romney, George; Ann Verelst (1751-1823); Rotherham Heritage Services; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/ann-verelst-17511823-69312
Romney, George; Ann Verelst (1751-1823) by George Romney; Rotherham Heritage Services

UPDATE

Following a great deal of discussion amongst our readers we thought we would add some of the earliest references to a few shades of blue that we have come across in the newspapers.

Navy Blue 

Morning Post and Daily Advertiser , Saturday, October 7, 1780

A slight variation on the term appeared in The London Chronicle of 1781.

London Chronicle, August 16, 1781 – August 18, 1781

Turquoise

The Parisian fashion report for  June 1779 confirms for us the existence of the colour turquoise in clothing.

Evening Mail, June 26, 1799 – June 28, 1799

Saxon Blue

General Evening Post, August 13, 1748 – August 16, 1748

Royal Blue

It is said to have been created by millers in Rode, Somerset, a consortium of which won a competition to make a dress for Queen Charlotte, consort of King George III. The article does not however, give a specific date for this, but we did manage to find this article below confirming the existence of such a colour by 1782.

Morning Herald and Daily Advertiser , Tuesday, April 23, 1782

 

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Miss Taylor by Joseph Highmore (1692-1780) Courtesy of Manchester Art Gallery