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Author Archives: Myretta

About Myretta

Myretta is a founder and current manager of The Republic of Pemberley, a major Jane Austen destination on the web. She is also a writer of Historical Romance. You can find her at her website, www.myrettarobens.com and on Twitter @Myretta.

At the University of Texas in Austin, Professor Janine Barchas has created (or rather recreated) the art exhibit at the British Institution in Pall Mall that Jane Austen wrote about visiting on May 24, 1813.

What Jane Saw is a wonderful site and a wonderful resource for art exhibits during our period.  Each room of the exhibit is faithfully (as far as possible) reproduced.  The floor plan allows you to see the paintings as they were exhibited and each painting is clickable, taking you to a larger image and historical information.  Moreover, it includes a scan of the exhibit catalog

mrs-bingley

Mrs. Bingley?

This exhibit does not include the portrait of Mrs. Bingley that Jane Austen mentions finding in this letter,  That portrait has been identified as  Portrait of Mrs. Q (Mrs. Harriet Quentin) by William Blake.  This was, obviously, not in the Joshua Reynolds exhibit reproduced on What Jane Saw.  According to the letter, she saw this at at Spring Gardens.

But don’t let the fact that this exhibit doesn’t include Mrs. Bingley stop you from visiting.  I dare say you’ll want to linger a while.

Megan sent me a link to 13 Reasons You Wouldn’t Want to Live in Jane Austen’s England.  It’s hard to refute the horror of most of these things, although I find some of them (for example forced marriage) a tad spurious.  But, regardless of the dangers of 18th-19th century England, we still live there in in our imaginations.  Many of the 13 reasons apply to the  lower classes and, whether it’s right or not, these are not the people with whom we commune in our reading and writing.  We’re living with the gentry and the aristocracy as was Jane Austen when she wrote.

somersetWhen we live in Jane Austen’s England, we’re living upstairs, where the air is fresh and someone irons our newspapers and brings us tea.  We walk in the country and stroll through Hyde Park. We take in an exhibit at Somerset House. If want to do manual labor, we’ll go out in the garden and cut some flowers.  If we’re worried about what’s for dinner, we’ll meet with cook.  If our sheets need to be changed, we’ll consult the housekeeper.

LubscombeOur gentlemen are sitting in  Parliament (no doubt solving the problem of child labor), riding in the park, hunting, shooting, hanging out with friends at their club.  If we’re at our country estate, they’re meeting with their steward and caring for their land and their tenants.  They’re helping us host a house party. Or they’re  beside us, making sure we are supremely happy.

Yes.  This is fiction, where we rarely catch fire by standing too near to the hearth, we aren’t subject to poor medical attention and even worse dentistry, and we’d do anything rather than force a poor child to climb our chimney to clean it.  But, as we now have a choice about which Jane Austen’s England we’d prefer to live in, why ever would we choose the one in the Huffington Post?

A friend just returned from a holiday in England and, knowing what kind of girl I am (a writer), she brought me The Georgian Bawdyhouse by Emily Brand.  This is one of the excellent Shire Library books found in many of the UK National Trust gift shops.  I’m not sure where Laurel got this one.  I’ll have to ask her.

Since we’re all interested in bawdyhouses, I thought I’d share some of it with you.  The book addresses the long 18th century, but does concentrate largely on the 17th and early 18th.  In fact, the illustration at the top of the table of contents is of a Regency era Prince of Wales disporting himself at a bordello.

prinny-bawdyhouse

A young Prinny relaxing in a bawdyhouse

Brand tells us that bawdyhouses were not under the exclusive direction of women.  Men (called panders) ran some of the houses and, in some cases, a husband and wife team were in charge.  Regardless of who was running it, a brothel could be highly lucrative.  In 1743, the Gentleman’s Magazine speculated that Mother Hayward (owner of a bawdyhouse), was worth £10,000 at her death.

Bawdyhouses ran the gamut from poverty-stricken garrets to elegant (or at least expensive) townhouses.  Indeed, The Folly was a floating brothel on the Thames.

Prostitution was not illegal, but bawdyhouses could be punished for disturbing the peace.  So, apparently, maintaining a respectable appearance was an important factor in running a successful house of ill repute.

Frontispiece 1794 Harris's List

Frontispiece 1794 Harris’s List

Brand gives us a selection of terms for prostitutes:  drazil-drozzle from Hampshire, dolly-tripe in Warwickshire.  The lowest of these were the bunters and hedge-whores.  The loftier were squirrels and demi-reps.  Their average age was 16 to 24.  Between 1757 and 1795, Harris’s List of Covent Garden Ladies, rather a prostitute directory, provided descriptions of working women, including their age.

The Georgian Bawdyhouse also includes a chapter on the men who frequented these establishment.  These ranged from sailors and visiting country squires to The Dukes of Wellington and Queensberry.  Of course, the types of houses these men would attend would vary widely, from the tawdry to the palatial.

Early 19th C condom made of sheep gut

Early 19th C condom made of sheep gut

 Although most of these men gave no thought to impregnating their partners, disease was not uncommon and various types of “cures” (taking the waters, mercury, a remedy served in hot chocolate) and preventive measures existed.    Early condoms were made of linen, silk or leather.  By the early 19th century, sheep gut soaked in water and tied with a ribbon was the usual.   Other inventive measures were taken.  Apparently, Casanova once persuaded a lover to use half a lemon rind as a cervical cap.

There is a lot of information in this small book and it’s full of illustrations.  Gillray is amply represented.  It’s well worth a look if you’re interested in the seamier side of life in the Georgian city.  Thanks for the souvenier, Laurel.

Posted in Regency, Research | 3 Replies

In Jane Austen’s Emma, when Mr. Woodhouse goes to Donwell Abbey as part of the strawberry-picking party, he is ensconced inside with Mr. Knightley’s collections.

curiositycabinet1

Mr. Knightley had done all in his power for Mr. Woodhouse’s entertainment. Books of engravings, drawers of medals, cameos, corals, shells, and every other family collection within his cabinets, had been prepared for his old friend, to while away the morning; and the kindness had perfectly answered. Mr. Woodhouse had been exceedingly well amused. Mrs. Weston had been showing them all to him, and now he would show them all to Emma; fortunate in having no other resemblance to a child, than in a total want of taste for what he saw, for he was slow, constant, and methodical.
Chapter 42

wunderkammen--1715

Wunderkammen–1715

These cabinets of curiosities, or Wunderkammern appear to have become popular in the 16th century and proliferated throughout Europe. Collectors were typically encyclopaedic in their approach, and the cabinets contents were items thought to be exceptional, rare, and marvellous.  The items Jane Austen decribes- drawers of medals, cameos, corals, shells, and every other family collection within his cabinets– were typical of the sort of items which made their way into such collections.

Below is a description of the Cabinet of Curiosities assembled by the famous Tradescant family, gardeners to the Cecil family of Burghley. This cabinet  became known as the Ark and was opened to the public, forming the basis of the Ashmolean Museum:

To be ‘curious’ was a compliment in Elizabethan/Jacobean times and both Tradescants became famous for gardening, design, travel and their collection of curiosities. The epitaph on their tombstone describes very well why they became well known, and the interest there is today in their activities. This can be read today on their tomb at the museum.

The John Tradescant the Elder first travelled after 1609 when he entered the service of Robert Cecil who became the first Earl of Salisbury. He visited Europe to bring back plants and trees including roses, fritillaries and mulberries to the gardens at Hatfield. Later, in the service of Sir Edward Wotton, Tradescant accompanied a diplomatic mission to Russia, and he also visited Algiers, always taking botanical notes and gathering plants. By the 1620’s Tradescant had achieved a prominent position as a director of gardens whose advice was sought by the highest in the land.

In 1626 Tradescant leased a house in Lambeth where he developed his own garden and a cabinet of curiosities where he displayed ‘all things strange and rare’ that he brought back from his travels. The original is in the Ashmolean, and a copy is on display in the museum. Tradescant’s home came to be called ‘The Ark’ and was an essential site to see in London at the time as more was being learnt about the world and different cultures. It was the first museum of its kind in Britain open to the public, charging 6d admission…

At the suggestion of Elias Ashmole, he began to catalogue the collection at the Ark, and the Musaeum Tradescantianum of 1656 was the first museum catalogue published. Tradescant willed that the collection was to go to his widow on his death, but Elias Ashmole obtained the collection by deed of gift and established the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford with the collection. Some of these original items can still be seen in that museum and Ashmole is also buried at the Museum of Garden History. The tomb of the Tradescants stands beside the knot garden near that of Captain Bligh of the Bounty, and is covered in carvings representing their interests in life which marked them out as curious men.

Mark Dion Thames Dig Display at the Tate

Mark Dion Thames Dig Display at the Tate

Trawling Google seems to indicate a fairly wide range of interests, collections, and types of cabinets.  I’ve been trying to imagine what Mr. Knightley’s might look like.  I think it’s probably not very like Peter the Great’s tooth collection.  And the description indicates it’s probably broader and more eclectic than 1715 illustration above.  I think of it as a smaller version of the Tradescant’s collection, accumulated through the generations of Knightleys at Donwell Abbey but perhaps collected a little closer to  home than the contents of the world-traveling Tradescants’ cabinet.

Peter the Great's Tooth Collection

Peter the Great’s Tooth Collection

I picture it more like the more carefully organized drawers and shelves pictured in the Mark Dion designed cabinets from this century.  A tad more grand than a messy box of interesting items.

What’s in your cabinet?

I’m revising my current WIP and have come across the scene where my heroine  out for a drive with the hero in an open carriage. They have just passed the entrance to Hyde Park and, being new to London, she wonders where they’re going.

They’re headed for a picnic in Kensington Gardens.

When I first worked on this scene, I did a little research on Kensington Gardens and shared it on my personal blog. Since I am quite convinced that my blog has about two followers (including me), I thought I’d share it here as well.

Kensington Gardens is west of and contiguous with Hyde Park. It was carved out of Hyde Park and made what it is today by Queen Caroline, wife of George II. Queen Caroline had The Long Water and The Serpentine (in Hyde Park) created from the Westbourne Stream and separated Kensington Gardens (which was a private park throughout most of the 18th century) from Hyde Park with a ha-ha.

Here is a plan of the gardens from 1754.

Plan of Kensington Gardens 1754

Plan of Kensington Gardens 1754

Once the hero and heroine arrive at the gardens, they will get out of the carriage and take a stroll – and who knows what else might happen? Well, I do, but I’m not telling just yet.

Kensington Gardens 1798

Kensington Gardens 1798

I think that, were they to be transported to the present day (which they won’t be), they might recognize a lot of the gardens in which they are strolling.

Kensington Gardens

Kensington Gardens

There are many things, however, that they would not recognize, including the Albert Memorial (Queen Victoria made several additions to the gardens) and the bronze statue of Peter Pan, now a destination for visitors to the park.

Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens

Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens

I had fun finding out what I could do in Kensington Gardens. I hope that Anne and Simon have fun while they’re there and that perhaps one day you can join them.

Prints are from The British Library Online Gallery