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Category: Research

Posts in which we talk about research

Elena, Regency Research Nerd, back for more myth-busting on the history of pregnancy and childbirth.

#3: Babies were born in the same ancestral bed where previous generations were born, consummated their marriages and died.

No! I’ve seen this concept many times, and I can’t decide if it gives a sweeping sense of history or is just gross.

Several facts here:

Fabric was expensive and childbirth is messy. I won’t go into details for fear of offending the squeamish and scaring male visitors from the blog. So let me just add three words–“No rubber sheets”.

From the earliest times until well into the 19th century, most women usually gave birth in upright or semi-upright positions: squatting, standing, kneeling, sitting on the lap of a midwife or husband or in a birthing chair or stool.

However, from the 17th century or so toward “our” period, male obstetricians (called accoucheurs) who attended ladies, were beginning to move away from the birthing chair and/or redesigning it. Ladies (as opposed to working class women) were regarded as more delicate, and recumbent positions were increasingly recommended for them.

During the Regency, ladies usually gave birth in a specially designed birthing bed or cot, which was often portable and could be shared between friends.

The recommended position was the “Sims” position: woman on her side, knees drawn up, doctor BEHIND her. The lack of eye contact was supposed to preserve modesty and prevent embarrassment.

By Victorian times the “lithotomy” (on the back, legs up) position was more common, making for easier access for the doctor though not the best biological position for the woman. Conversely to Regency doctors, Victorian doctors worked under sheets by feel alone and maintained eye contact with their patients to prove they were not, um, peeking. Seems creepy to me.

Thanks for indulging me, everyone! Next week: husbands in the delivery room.

Elena
LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE, an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award nominee
www.elenagreene.com

As I mentioned in last Tuesday’s post, I’m currently in a production of Shakespeare’s AS YOU LIKE IT. Which, of course, makes this the perfect time for me to go over John Philip Kemble’s version of the play — which was the version used at the Theatre Royal Covent Garden during the Regency, and was also published and sold (for eighteen pence a copy).

So, what changes did the great actor/manager/director (pictured here) make to Shakespeare’s text?

I was delighted to find that the answer is, very few!

Let’s start with what Kemble left in. The following are words and phrases that Kemble clearly thought acceptable for general audiences to hear and read: damn’d, damnation, bastard, foul, slut, puking, belly, stomach, body, bawdry, udders, country copulatives, virgin, maid

The most vulgar speech that I could find that he left in was said by Touchstone the Fool, who is pretending to scold a shepherd for the immorality of his profession:

That is another simple sin in you: to bring the ewes and the rams together, and to offer to get your living by the copulation of cattle: to be bawd to a bell-wether; and to betray a she-lamb of a twelvemonth, to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldy ram, out of all reasonable match. If thou be’st not damn’d for this, the devil himself will have no shepherds…

Some of the cuts (most of them quite short — a line here or there) were, as far as I can tell, just for length, or occasionally to cut an obscure passage. Some, though, were probably for the indelicacy of the topic, or the vulgarity of the phrasing — but even this seems not to be invariable. Touchstone talks a fair amount about horns (a constant joke in Shakespeare’s plays, where all men seem to eternally fear being cuckolded), but a couple lines of Rosalind’s joking about horns was cut. Perhaps in this case, the jokes themselves were not too warm, but the character of Rosalind was now thought to be too refined to make such jokes?

And yet Rosalind did keep some of her suggestive lines. Kemble left in the passage which reads:

ROSALIND: … till you met your wife’s wit going to your neighbor’s bed.
ORLANDO: And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
ROSALIND: Marry, to say,–she came to seek you there.

On the other hand, Kemble cut the passage:

ROSALIND: I prithee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings.
CELIA: So you may put a man in your belly?

Other passages that were presumably cut for indelicacy include:

CELIA: You will cry in time, in despite of a fall. (This is a double joke, referring to both sex and childbirth)

TOUCHSTONE: He that sweetest rose will find, must find love’s prick and Rosalind.

Also cut was a longish passage in which Touchstone and the shepherd compare a shepherd’s greasy hands (due to handling ewes’ “fells”) and a courtier’s hands, perfumed with civet (“the very uncleanly flux of a cat.”)

Kemble invariably cut “God” (e.g. “I thank God” and “God save you”) and changed it to “heaven” (so: “I thank heaven” and “Heaven save you”) — so I presume this was consistently done on the Regency stage.

Well, that’s AS YOU LIKE IT as Kemble liked it! Hope you liked it too…

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — out now from Signet Regency!

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged , | 4 Replies


An Englishman liked his drink. Gin, rum, and brandy was the ordinary fare, found in pubs and taverns across England. One could not trust the water, after all, and water did not rouse the spirits half so well.

Gentlemen had to be more particular in their choice of drink–good wines and spirits did for him–although I imagine the effect was the same.

I thought it would be interesting to see some examples of the serveware that would have been used. Above is an example of six sherry or port glasses circa 1810 and at the left is a wine glass circa 1750–that is, if it is not an ale flute–I’m not quite sure of that, but it looks like a wine glass to me.

Following first is a decanter circa 1820. The quality seems quite fine; I expected to find more irregularities in the glass when I began this search, but it seems that there is quite a variety, I
suppose depending on the maker and the market the piece was intended for.

Next is a very nice etched wine glass circa 1770 with a very inter-esting swirled stem. You may notice that the bowl is not very big; in formal dinners where there might be numerous toasts, one could not get “potted” after the first two.

Finally, there is a pair of cobalt decanters marked “rum” and “brandy” (1790)

and a “rummer”–a rum glass of which it seems many have survived, since I found quite a few examples for sale on the internet.

Armed with this information, as little as it is, you can at least imagine what a gentleman might have thrown at his grate at the end of a rousing toast…or perhaps, in a fit of temper!

Glass enthusiasts–I am a novice in this arena and would love your input!

Laurie
LORD RYBURN’S APPRENTICE
Signet, Jan. 2006

Belatedly taking up Cara’s challenge to read a traditional Regency, I picked one up a few weeks ago. It was classic traditional romp, a nice “bon-bon” of a book. I really did enjoy it. Only one thing niggled.

Several times in the book it’s stated that it was extremely improper, maybe even scandalous, for pregnant women to be seen in public. Not true!

I know, because I’ve researched this subject for articles and workshops as well as my works-in-progress. Being a Regency Research Nerd is a problem sometimes!

Of course, I’m not the sort to toss a book over things like this. In fact, it scares me to think there are people out there who would, because who knows what mistakes I’ve made unknowingly, just assuming that something I’d read myself in many other authors’ work was correct? OTOH it also scares me (yes, I admit I’m a bit neurotic) that readers are going to complain that I’ve gotten things wrong.

This is what authors notes–and blogs–are for.

Here are a couples of the most common errors I’ve seen in historical romances that deal with childbearing (more next week):

#1: Respectable women did not appear in public while pregnant.

During the Regency and even into early Victorian times, women sometimes stayed in due to health reasons. Or even used ill-health as an excuse to avoid activities they didn’t want to do anyway! But there was no shame about being in public at this time. There’s lots of evidence that many ladies continued an active social life, going to parties, the opera, and even travelling while pregnant.

    • In 1805, Frances, Lady Churchill attended parties in her last trimester of pregnancy. She went to the opera on June 11, and gave birth on June 28.

 

  • During the last trimester of her first pregnancy in 1810, Harriet, Lady Granville, and her husband visited the country seats of his family members in Staffordshire, Gloucestershire and Cheshire.

 

 

  • Queen Victoria (pictured above) welcomed Lady Charlotte Guest, who was 6 months pregnant, to a ball at the palace in 1840. Queen Victoria was pregnant herself.

 

 

Later in history, especially in America, ladies did hide away once they were visibly pregnant. In fact some ladies tightly laced their corsets in an attempt to disguise pregnancy so they could continue normal lives as long as possible. Ugh!

#2: Babies were always delivered by doctors. – OR – Babies were always delivered by midwives.

During the Regency both midwives and male doctors (those specializing in obstetrics were called man-midwives or accoucheurs) delivered babies. Man-midwives rose in popularity during the 18th century.

The picture here depicts the conflict between the new and old ways of doing things. Many thought it was unmanly, immoral and improper for men to deliver babies, but it was the new “scientific” thing. And male practitioners were trained (more or less!) in the use of forceps, while most female midwives were not, so they were theoretically better prepared to deal with problematic deliveries.

Looking at an obstetric kit c. 1820, though, I can’t help but shudder.

By the Regency, most women of the upper classes used an accoucheur while midwives continued to deliver babies for the working class and the poor. So either could work in a story, depending on the setup and the characters.

Next week, I’ll deal with a couple more common misconceptions about childbearing in the past.

For anyone who is not too squeamish, and who finds this subject even half as interesting as I do, there’s a fascinating (if sometimes gruesome) collect of artifacts to view at Accoucheur’s Antique. There’s also some information and a bibliography on my website.

Elena, Regency Research Nerd 🙂
LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE, RT Reviewers’ Choice Award Nominee
www.elenagreene.com

My only real hobby — besides reading books, buying books, going to libraries, buying more books, wishing I had time to read them, trying to find room to store all my books (all of which is not a hobby, after all, but an obsession, or, if I stretch things a bit, a part of my career and therefore all of it quite necessary) — sorry, where was I? Oh yes . . .

As I was saying (or trying to say, before my book habit got in the way, as it always does) — as I was saying, my only real hobby is acting. I particularly love Shakespeare. At the moment, my husband and I are in a production of Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It at Caltech. I’m playing Celia, the Duke’s daughter who runs away to the Forest of Arden, and Todd plays Oliver, a villain who reforms and (coincidentally) falls in love with Celia.

Now that I have my lines memorized (and there are a lot of them — Celia is quite a nice role) — I can read John Philip Kemble’s version of the play and tell immediately which lines he cut, and which words he changed. Quite fun!

Kemble was in charge of the Theatre Royal Covent Garden before and during the Regency, and he was one of its top actors too. He was most respected as an actor when playing tragic roles, particularly noble Romans, but he also appeared in comedies. When he was young, he sometimes played Orlando — and when he got a bit older, he often played the melancholy Jaques (who has the famous speech “All the world’s a stage . . .”)

Mrs. Jordan, nowadays better known as the long-time mistress of the Duke of Clarence (one of King George III’s sons, who later became King William IV) and the mother of many of his children, was the most popular comedic actress of the time. She frequently played Rosalind, but by the Regency proper was too old — and too large — to play a young lady who disguised herself as a boy.

Then again, if you look at the engraving here by Bunbury, you will see that even when she was young, the lovely Mrs. Jordan did not possess what we would call a “boyish figure.” Indeed, one can tell from the way the artist drew her that seeing her curvaceous figure in men’s revealing clothing was something that the men found quite pleasing…and so few of the men would have likely complained that the delicious Rosalind would never have passed for a boy with that shape…

Next week, I’ll talk about Kemble’s version of the play — and which lines were too naughty (and which weren’t) for Regency audiences . . .

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — out now from Signet Regency!!!

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged , | 7 Replies