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William Cobbett, round about 1821, wrote:

The drink, which has come to supply the place of beer has, in general, been tea. It is notorious, that tea has no useful strength in it; that it contains nothing nutricious; that it, besides being good for nothing, has badness in it, because it is well known to produce want of sleep in many cases, and in all cases to shake and weaken the nerves.

Okay, so far, I slightly agree with Cobbett. Lack of sleep — yeah, if you drink more than you’re used to, or you drink late in the day, it can cause insomnia! But “shake and weaken the nerves”?

Cobbett continues:

It is, in fact, a weaker kind of laudanum, which enlivens for a moment and deadens afterwards.

Laudanum, which is opium dissolved in alcohol, being compared to tea??? Dude, what have YOU been drinking???

It is impossible to make a fire, boil water, make the tea, drink it, wash up the things, sweep up the fire-place and put all to rights again in a less space of time, upon an average, than two hours. . . . Needs there any thing more to make us cease to wonder at seeing labourers’ children with dirty linen and holes in the heels of their stockings?

There you have it, kiddies! The poor are wretched not for any of the commonly held reasons (e.g. because they are poor, or because they are lazy, or because no one who labours in the fields from dawn to dusk has time or energy to darn stockings) but because they drink too much TEA!!!!

You heard it here first.

Cara
Cara King, Tea Drinker Extraordinaire
for more weird period details, see www.caraking.com

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Now stir the fires, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round
And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in
.
William Cowper

My characters and I have this in common–we swill tea. I thought I’d try and explain why tea is so important to the English–there’s even an official website, http://www.tea.co.uk which has some fascinating stuff on modern tea drinking, like how to judge your boss from the way they hold their teacup, celebrity teacup designs, and the official Brit medical establishment’s view on tea drinking (it’s good for you! Ha! It contains antioxidants!). And in regencies, it’s always the stuff from China and India, with milk and sugar, none of those nasty herbal medicines, thank you. Why the milk? I’m not sure. One theory is that early English manufacturers couldn’t make a porcelain cup that would stand up to the temperature of the tea, so the milk was there to cool it down. Considering that even the most clunky of stoneware has to fire at about 1200F I think this is unlikely–unless the china was cracked to begin with. It tastes better that way, so I guess that’s how it came about (oops, some milk spilled in my tea but I’ll drink it anyway).

First, the pics. Top left, a Spode teapot with a floral pattern and gold wotsits from the early nineteenth century. Left, a tea caddy from about 1820, made with mahogany and rosewood veneers, two compartments for different sorts of tea, and a glass mixing bowl in the middle. This sort of caddy was used in the drawing-room for the elegant hostess to mix her own, and expensive tea blend. Lower left, an eighteenth-century China import teapot.

Tea was discovered by accident (oops, a leaf fell in my cup, I think I’ll drink it anyway) by Shen Nung, Chineses scholar and herbalist in 2737 BC. By the Tang dynasty (618-906 AD) ch’a was China’s national drink. It caught on in India and came to Europe in the sixteenth century, and to the coffeehouses of London in the mid-seventeenth. Catherine of Braganza supposedly brought a gift of tea from Portugal for her husband-to-be Charles II. At any rate, by
1660, London merchant Thomas Garway issued a broadsheet selling tea for sale at £6 and £10 per pound. Garway claimed tea was “wholesome, preserving perfect health until extreme old age, good for clearing the sight,” able to cure “gripping of the guts, cold, dropsies, scurveys” and claiming that “it could make the body active and lusty.” Within a hundred years tea was widespread in England, supplanting beer as the drink of choice, and served in coffeehouses and pleasure gardens like Vauxhall and Ranelagh.

When the main meal of the day moved from midday to the evening fashionable hostesses served tea with snacks such as cakes, sandwiches, and nuts to tide themselves over until dinnertime. I’ve read this was attributed to Anna, seventh Duchess of Bedford in around 1840, which sounds extremely late. At the other end of the social spectrum, from about 1740 to 1820, workers on farms and in factories defended their right to tea breaks, to the fury of industrialists, landowners and clerics who asserted the habit encouraged indolence and cut down on productivity. Tea drinking, because it requires boiling water, is also thought to have reduced mortality rates among the poor in cities.

Later on tea was championed by the teetotal movement, and with the opening of teahouses in the 1860s, furthered the feminist movement in providing gathering places for unescorted women. High tea developed as an evening meal among poor and middle-class families, who still had their main meal at midday, and included somewhat more substantial fare than the afternoon tea of the aristocracy. In our house it could include sardines, boiled eggs, sticks of celery, sandwiches, scones, and something my mother called Scotch pancakes (a sort of griddle cake).

Any more tea myths or facts? Favorite teas? I’ll have a nice cup of Assam now…

Janet

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Those two words, plus Let’s Pretend… are part of the essential writer’s toolbox (or those of the average six-year-old, meaning that writers haven’t quite grown up yet).

So I like to play a game where I try to translate everyday life into the Regency, partly to amuse myself and partly as research or background building. Take getting up in the morning, for instance. Now my routine is pretty simple. I can get myself up and out of the house (usually with clothes on the right way out and right way around although there have been notorious lapses), with time to check e-mail, in about forty-five minutes.

But in the Regency… first I’d need someone to lace me into my stays, unless I was fortunate enough to own a pair of front lacing stays (at left)–rare in collections, but they did exist. And chances are there would be people around, because people did not live alone, and I’d have a servant or someone to help. In fact there might be rather too many people around. Let us pass over the bathroom issue, but assume some washing might well take place.

Choosing something to wear would probably be quite easy because either I’d opt for morning dress (i.e., slopping around the house wear), or I’d put on the clothes I wore yesterday and every other day except Sunday.

Next, the urgent need for a cup of tea. If I was unlucky the fire might have gone out, although I hope I would not have been so slatternly as to forget to bank it the night before. I might have to pump water. If I had someone to boil the water I’d still be the one to make the tea because I’d have the all-important tea caddy and its key. Someone would also have to look out in the street for the milkmaid and her cow so I could have milk in my tea.

As for breakfast itself–assuming there was anything to eat in the house with the price of bread at an all-time shocking high–if I were higher up the social scale I’d have toast or cake. All more labor intensive than you might think, certainly more fiddly than putting an English muffin (yes, there were things called muffins in England, but the English muffin is neither English nor a muffin) in the toaster. No peanut butter either.

I suppose the equivalent of e-mail would be reading a newspaper (although possibly several days old, passed on by someone I knew) or receiving the day’s post.

And leaving the house for work?–chances are I’d stay home doing piecework, and trying to keep my grandchildren out of the fireplace (note to daughter: this is not a hint). Or I’d leave to clean someone else’s house.

Think of what you’d do at any given time of day. What do you think you’d be doing if you lived in the Regency? What would you miss most? What do you think you’d enjoy most?

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