How much History?

When Jane Austen wrote her books, she did not include any of the stirring events of the day, despite that a great war raged, and social upheaval was rife.

Unless Georgette Heyer was writing about that great war, she did not often include the notable events of the early nineteenth century in her stories.

Until now, I have, for the most part, followed in their august footsteps. But when Shakoriel and I began to consider an illustrated book, it occurred to me to use history in a new way in my writing. And The Regency Storybook came about.

We already had the pictures for our book. A few years ago, Shakoriel did twelve line drawings of Regency fashions, with reference to original sources, and we published the "Fashions of Regency England Colouring Book". Then in the last year and a half, she painted the pictures digitally, and they have been offered for sale as frameable prints.

When we did the Regency colouring book, the people modelling the fashions had so much personality that, just for fun, we gave each of them a name. Now as we approached The Regency Storybook, we needed only stories to accompany the pictures. But the stories needed a cohesive focus. It seemed to me that the notable events of the era offered that focus.

We all can name events in our own time that have touched our lives to a greater or lesser extent: 9/11, the moon landing, deaths of famous people, encounters with celebrity, etc.
I began to reflect on how the events of the extended Regency era must have touched the lives of the people, sometimes directly, sometimes indirectly. And so the stories came together.

Anxious Miss Phoebe Churcham is in the street, unusually alone, when the assassination of Prime Minister Spencer Perceval occurs at the Houses of Parliament.

The Dowager Marchioness of Lavington visits her old friend Maria Fitzherbert at her new Steine House; Captain Benjamin Shedfield is missing for a week after the Battle of Waterloo; the death of the Princess Charlotte affects the entire family of Tabitha, Lady Newick -- it all led to our tagline "Twelve people, twelve historical events, twelve stories".

In his story, Sir Aubrey Granthorpe goes in search of Miss Austen's new book, Mansfield Park, though he has never heard of Hatchard's, and has a horror of bookstores in general.

I hope I have done justice--in about 2,000 words each--to the Regency events I have chosen. It was a fascinating experience in writing, weaving important factual events with fictional characters. History always frames my stories but seldom in such an immediate fashion.

This is the first of my books to be in print as opposed to an ebook format. An ebook version of The Regency Storybook will be available from Uncial Press in the fall of 2013.

The aim of Shakoriel and I was to produce a beautiful book, a gift book--in the tradition of storybooks for all ages--and yet one with some depth of storytelling. We hope we have succeeded.

'Til next time,
Lesley-Anne

The Regency Storybook is available from Amazon Createspace, Amazon.com, and Shakoriel's Etsy shop. A limited number of autographed copies accompanied by frameable mini-prints of the artwork is also available from Shakoriel's Etsy store online.

The Changing Century Satirized

As the new century--the 19th--began, it seemed to many that the world had changed beyond recognition. By 1803 the changes, particularly to society, had become unavoidable.

The French Revolution had frightened the aristocracy of every nation. If change could be thrust upon people so violently, surely it might be better to resist change altogether. But wars had spread from that revolution, and the greatest of the 19th century wars was about to engulf Europe, and transform Britain. Change could not be denied.

For many, it was the alteration of society that was the most disturbing. The 18th century came to be seen as a society of honesty--rude and vulgar, perhaps, and distressingly indelicate at times--but essentially honest. By 1803, the new century was seen by some as deceitful and duplicitous. Several of the publications of the year chose to address the matter through satire and sarcasm.

The Cyprians Ball by Cruikshank

 The Literary Journal published an article titled "Modern Manners and Style" which began:

Although it may appear presumptuous to anticipate any of the decisions of posterity, it seems not improbable, that, a century hence, the present may be denominated the age of taste. Taste is a word which occurs more frequently than any other in all our printed annals;...

It continues:

At this season of the year taste presides over routs, and balls, and dinners. In these, we perceive that it consists of the aggregate of crowded rooms, chalked floors, and variegated lamps.

The writer continued his delicate diatribe by addressing the fashions of the current season:

With the ladies, it is the object to shew how little will do for dress; with the gentlemen, how much they can carry without fatigue.

The Circular Room at Carlton Palace by Cruikshank

 Another word which seriously disturbed the writer was 'style'.

One man lives in a very genteel style, while another rode his horse...in a very pretty style. Mrs. Siddons's style of playing Lady Macbeth is much admired, but not more than Mr. Hoby's style of boot-tops.

He goes on:

So general is the application of this magical word, that the newspaper critics have had a prodigious addition to their necessary employments, and are sometimes expatiating on the style of an epic poem, and sometime descanting on the style of a grand dinner; sometimes examining the style of a treaty, and at other time enlarging on the style of a song;...

The Times took a different approach to satirize the excesses and superficiality of the new century. It invented a mockery of the columns of society news that filled the pages of so many publications. Their "Specimen of Modern Intelligence from The Fashionable World" included these items of farce:

The fashionable Mrs. Hog has taken No. 127, Manchester Place, where she will receive her numerous list of elegant friends, as soon as her little drawing-room has got the new paper.

The great world were last night assembled at the fashionable Mrs. Plug's. It was the greatest squeeze of the winter. Mrs. Flip and Miss Amelia Flirt, we are afflicted to say, fainted in the door-way;...

Sir Frederic First has taken the elegant mansion of the late Lady Large, in Piccadilly.

Lord Thoughtless has increased his establishment by a groom of the chamber; and Sir Lionel Lofty has changed his silver lace [livery] to gold.

The Morning Chronicle published a letter to the editor--four and a half pages long--titled "The National Morality Implicated in Female Dress". It is signed 'Misogymnotas', so some hints of its content may immediately be determined. But the writer begins

While the public mind is agitated by speculations concerning peace or war, my attention is occupied by a subject of far deeper importance.

This subject is the new fashions that the new century has brought. The author is horrified apparently by short skirts and bare shoulders, but he is also offended by "...Bond Street loungers blanching their hands with cosmetics, and embrowning their cheeks with walnut-juice.." He suggests, tongue thoroughly in cheek, that penal acts be placed as "...defences...to Virtue by authority of Parliament." He cites as examples: a Fichu Bill, a Petticoat Lengthening Bill, the Landau Bill, and the Smock Bill. Perhaps the looming war should have occupied more of his attention!

Finally, the General Evening Post participates in the general satire of the new manners. With 'Directions to a Lobby Lounger', the writer descries the behaviour of the young man about town:

Having gone through the usual routine of the day, as a Bond Street Lounger, a Park Lounger, and a Coffeehouse Lounger, in which several important stations I may hereafter give you some useful instructions, prepare for the theatre, the last scene but one in which you are to exhibit till the next morning.

He advises the young man not to dress for the theatre, and not to worry about bothering other patrons, but to pursue his own ends, enjoyment, and any female that takes his fancy. A parody of behaviour certainly, but also a damning comment on actions of a few.

The Great Subscription Room at Brook's by Cruikshank

All these satiric articles were gathered in one publication bearing the title

The Spirit of the Public Journals for 1803

Its subtitle declares it "An impartial selection of the most exquisite Essays and Jeux d'Esprits, principally prose, that appear in the newspapers and other publications". This magazine began publication in 1797 and ran until 1825. It was at one point owned by C. M. Westmacott, who I have discussed here, and whose publication The English Spy provides the illustrations for this post.

The first editor of the journal, Stephen Jones, stated his to be "a period when the collision of political parties, and the momentous incidents of the war, and of the French Revolution, began to elicit stronger flashes of wit, and satire, from the mind of genius, than had been produced for a long time before." Certainly the changing century brought concerns about all aspects of society to the fore, and the articles I have read shine a bright light on our Regency world.

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Source: Spirit of the Public Journals for 1803 available as a free download from Google Books.

"Machines and Carriages of Conveyance without Horses"

The proudest triumph of mechanics, will be the completion of a machine or carriage for travelling, without horses or other animals to drag it.

So states the The Monthly Magazine in its issue of November 1819. The unnamed writer of the article, which bears the same title as this blog, goes on to rail against the prejudice against change which, it seems to him, prevents the development of such a carriage. He further states that societies which supposedly confer patronage on such inventions are "incapable of appreciating any discovery which does not accord with their past habits and prejudices."

The Monthly Magazine however supported innovation and improvement. In March 1819 the journal carried an article on 'Drax's Velocipede' as improved by Mr. Johnson of Long Acre and made by Mr. Birch, "an eminent coachmaker, of Great Queen-street, London". 

not Drax's, but another velocipede of 1819

That March issue of the magazine is not available to me, and I have no illustration of Drax's invention, but I assume that it was propelled by some kind of pedal arrangement, as an article in the November issue states that "...the peculiar muscular action attending its frequent use, causes ruptures and inflammations of certain muscles of the thighs and legs; and it has in consequence been laid aside."

Upon the discovery of the inadequacies of Count Drax's invention, Mr. Birch, the coachmaker who built Drax's machine, took it upon himself to improve the conveyance.

...he has in consequence produced carriages of several forms and mechanical constructions, which merit the attention of the world, and cannot fail, from their elegance, safety, and power, to command extensive patronage.

This is the "Manivelociter". It is propelled by a sort of rowing action by the man in the rear seat as he pulled upon the levers he is holding. The lady in front steers the machine by means of  the handles attached to a pivot on the front wheel.

For twice the power and speed, Mr. Birch developed the "Bivector."

 Two men pulling two sets of levers--and the front man steers, but it is not clear how, for there is no mention of a pivot on the front wheel.

And finally, there is the "Trivector"--the ultimate machine of Mr. Birch's invention. The front wheel is three feet high (and does have a pivot for steering), the rear wheels are five feet in diameter. The extended frame has a floor for luggage and when loaded the conveyance "weighs 700 weight".

It seems likely that the "ruptures and inflammations of certain muscles of the thighs and legs" caused by Drax's velocipede were replaced by ruptures and inflammations to the arms and shoulders caused by the rowing action of this type of construction. Nevertheless,

This Trivector went from London to Brighton, on Saturday, Sept. 11, worked by three men, as represented in the engraving, in seven hours, where they dined; after which they proceeded thirteen miles farther; making together a distance of sixty-seven miles within the day. It would, however, be possible to run this machine 120 miles in the day, or ten miles an hour.

Well, Birch's machines did not ultimately 'command extensive patronage', and to modern eyes, they look rather ridiculous. But they were steps along a path that the author of the article considered essential: "That the perfection of such machines is most important, is evident from the consideration, that horses consume half the produce of the soil..."

It was only three years later that The Monthly Magazine was reporting on "Carriages to be propelled by Steam on Common Roads, and capable of conveying Goods and Passengers". They could travel five miles per hour, and were touted as reducing costs for everything from goods delivery to postal distribution. Steam was the way of the future, for the nineteenth century, at least.

Part of the charm of the Regency era is the fertile minds at work inventing a future that we take for granted. I sometimes wish they had not succeeded...except when I am in a hurry.

'Til next time,
Lesley-Anne