by Brenda S. Cox
“Here, sir,” taking out his pocket book, “if you will do me the favor of casting your eye over these advertisements which I cut out myself . . .”—Mr. Parker in Sanditon
What did ladies carry in those beautiful little reticules? In Part 1 we looked at some of the items that author Candice Hern has collected. We began with the necessary items: a fan, a vinaigrette, and a coin purse. Then we added some optional items: a perfume étui (a little container for a perfume bottle) and a cosmetics case. What else might ladies have carried in their reticules?
Books
Candice says they carried books in their reticules! That sounds right up my alley. I often carry a book or my Kindle in my purse. But these were very specific kinds of books, made very small to fit in the reticule. Candice showed us two types, pocket books and almanacs.
Pocket Books
The pocket book, perhaps like Mr. Parker’s, was the Regency version of a Day-Timer®. It was about 3” by 5”, usually covered with leather. A foldover flap kept it closed in the reticule. Many publishers produced these, so apparently they were a popular item.
Each began with a title page and a foldout fashion plate. Most pages showed a week’s calendar on one page, opposite a page to list expenses for that week. The lady might list items she bought, losses at cards, and gifts to poor people. A tiny pencil would probably accompany the pocketbook.
Pocket books also included short stories, essays, poetry, and even games. I hope these ladies had good eyes!
This English Ladies Pocket Book was published in Birmingham in 1803. The foldout shows ladies in some interesting bonnets. The book also includes calendar pages, expense pages, and things to read.
Almanacks
Another book that might be in a ladies’ reticule was a miniature almanac (or, as they would have written it, almanack). These were published yearly from 1690 to 1885. You could buy them at stationers’ shops and give them as Christmas gifts. Or, your dressmaker or milliner might give you one if you were a regular customer, as companies today might give out calendars.
These almanacs were either 1 1/8” square, or 1 1/8” by 2 ¼”. They included pictures; calendars showing holidays, phases of the moon, etc.; lists of the Kings and Queens of England and the Lord Mayors and Sheriffs of London; and information about coins and currency.
By the way, do you know why phases of the moon were important? Most evening visiting was done when the moon was full, so there was enough light to travel in your carriage by night. For example, in Sense and Sensibility when Sir John Middleton wants to invite a lot of people over, he wasn’t able to because “it was moonlight and every body was full of engagements.” So the phases of the moon were part of people’s social planning.
This miniature almanac from 1788 shows phases of the moon, dates of holidays, the church calendar, and dates for terms at Oxford and Cambridge Universities.
The tiny almanac came in a lovely case of tooled and gilded leather, to protect it in the reticule.
What else might have been in a ladies’ reticule?
A few years ago I had the privilege of attending the first few days of the Jane Austen Festival in Bath. Way up in Upper Camden Place, near where the Elliots lived in Persuasion, Jane Tapley gave a fascinating talk called “Rummaging Through the Reticule.” She added many more ideas on what might have been in the reticule. Of course reticules were not just carried to parties and visits. They were also used for travel; perhaps they had larger ones for that purpose. Besides some of the items Candice showed, Jane Tapley suggested that the reticule might have included:
- dressy shoes (silk, satin, or starched cotton), so they wouldn’t get dirty or scuffed on the way to and from the party
- ostrich feather for your hat (so it didn’t blow away on the way)
- a small chamber pot if the lady was traveling; they would use it in a coach under their skirts, then dump it through a trap door in the bottom of the coach! Or they might bring one going out to dinner. It could also be carried in your muff. It would have been about the size and shape of a gravy boat.
- cutlery (silver or wood), including a spoon, probably silver, to be used all during your lifetime
- a cup, fork, corkscrew, and a little pot for mustard, salt, or pepper, all in a small set for traveling or visits
- traveling drinking cup made of horn or silver
When traveling, a lady might carry her own cutlery and even salt. Items from Jane Tapley’s collection, photo by Brenda S. Cox
- a small case (or étui) specifically for sewing. It might include a needle case, scissors case, ivory bobbin winder, silver thimble, ivory pincushion, and a little penknife for cutting thread, plus a box of colored beads and a fine needle for beading. A small sewing kit might be called a huswife or a housewife.
- little lead pencils or a writing set
- a tiny book like The Merchant of Venice
- a silhouette of your sweetheart
Little books were made small enough to carry in the reticule. A silhouette was a way to carry a picture with you. (Items from Jane Tapley’s collection, photo by Brenda S. Cox)
- glasses or magnifying glasses
- lorgnettes (folding glasses on a string, worn on a chain around the neck)
Glasses, embroidered handkerchiefs, and sewing supplies might also come in handy in your reticule. (Items from Jane Tapley’s collection, photo by Brenda S. Cox)
- a half sovereign case that carried two half-sovereigns
- potpourri or pomanders to keep away body odors
- handkerchiefs with fine embroidery
- invitations
Now, imagine that you’re going with Jane Austen to an evening party. What will you carry in your reticule, out of these many options? Or, if you’re traveling with her to another town, what would you carry then?
To find out more about her and her work, look for her on:
To see more of her lovely collections, go to her Regency Collections.
You can connect with Brenda S. Cox, the author of this article, at Faith, Science, Joy, and Jane Austen or on Facebook.
Jane Austen's World 
so would a reticule chamber pot be smaller than a bourdaloue? are there any extant, or have they all fetched up being labelled as gravy boats as bourdaloues often are?
One must imagine that a Regency lady drank very little if she could carry only a thimble as a boudaloue in her ridicule! When skirts were wide and concealing in the late 18th century, one can imagine that they carried an entire “gravy boat” in their pockets for elimination. Hah! :)
Oh, stop it, Vic! The whole idea is a little disgusting, even if we are speaking about another era. And I’m getting the giggles thinking about that “gravy boat”…
Interesting post!!
Seriously, this is pretty interesting and even more so as we women still carry some of these things in our purses today. Like Brenda, I always buy a new purse that will fit my Kindle or a book. And maybe not a handkerchief but always Kleenex, as well as a coin purse, a pen and maybe favorite photos can be hiding in there, as well as our cell phones, of course. Hmmm…what would Jane and her contemporaries think of our phones?
I like to go light, so I have my asthma spray – modern vinaigrette? – money purse, spare camera battery, camera filters, a singleton wetwipe sealed for emergencies, pack of tissues, keys, cards, hussif, penknife, tiny bottle of sanitizer, specs, notebook and pencil & pen, mouth organ… um, yes, that’s me going light. I deliberately got a little handbag when my husband asked if I’d mind passing him the kitchen sink from my big one.
I love that you used the word “hussif,” Sarah! Is that commonly used where you are, for a little sewing kit? You sound well-prepared for any emergency!
certainly it’s what I’ve always called it and heard it called; my family hail from north Suffolk, I’m not sure it’s used down in Ipswich where I live. My dad also learned to call his repair kit his hussif in the merchant navy.
I’ve been involved with the Girl Guides and Boy Scouts in my time, my big handbag contains a moderately comprehensive first aid kit and a sterilised threaded curved needle for rapid sewing of bad cuts a long way from home. I’ve never had to use it! but I started carrying it after having sewn myself up with ordinary needle and thread, hastily dropped in brandy, from a bad cut in the kitchen when i was newly wed and didn’t want the hubby panicking if he came home and I was at the hospital. It healed fine well. Himself nearly passed out. He got used to me in time though. I’ve always been accident prone, so being well-prepared is a force of habit.
The mouth organ is to amuse myself sitting in the car when himself is shopping because I hate reading in the car.
You may enjoy reading about the gaffe by the Maryland Historical Society using a bourdaloue as a sauce boat in a period dining room; it’s about halfway down the article:
https://www.baltimoresun.com/news/bs-xpm-1994-11-20-1994324193-story.html
I read that article many years ago, and when I go to historical homes, I always look at displays to see if others have made the same error.
denise
Very funny, Denise! Do you know an easy way to tell the difference?
Bordaloues tend to be more rounded at the end rather than having a spout and may have a ‘waist’ in the middle for easy of going between the thighs.
Thanks for the tip, Sarah, and for the history, Denise!
alas, not available in Europe
Elizabeth Patterson Bonaparte (1785-1879) was for a brief time the wife of Jerome Bonaparte, Napoleon Bonaparte’s baby brother.
The Baltimore-born daughter of a millionaire, she was as fastidious about her health and hygiene as she was flamboyant about her dress. (Her cleavage-baring gowns were the subject of many whispers.)
Her diaries and purchase records show she made her own makeup, cold cream and eau de toilette. Remedial recipes flank her account books, showing mustard oil as her choice cure for rheumatism, tartaric acid for corns. She restored her hair with lead sulfur, castor oil and “spirits of wine,” and her nerves with a homemade sedative of liquid ammonia, camphorated alcohol and brine.
To enhance her comfort on treks between Maryland and Europe, she toted a portable bidet for personal hygiene. Crafted from mahogany in neoclassical, Louis XVI style, it had a silver basin inscribed by Napoleon’s personal silversmith.
She also had a bourdaloue, which ladies of the day took along on long carriage rides. Hers was made in about 1805 of Paris porcelain. Its lines are very graceful, which explains why early museum curators didn’t recognize it as a take-along chamber pot.
“At one point, after coming to the historical society, the bourdaloue served as a sauce boat in a period dining room, until it was suggested that its function hardly was appropriate for the dinner table,” wrote J. Jefferson Miller, former director of the society and an authority on porcelain.
Many of Betsy Bonaparte’s belongings, including the bidet and bourdaloue, were given to the museum by the widow of prominent lawyer Charles Joseph Bonaparte in 1921. He was Betsy Bonaparte’s grandson.
you can do a lot worse than mustard for rheumatism, my own recipe for rubbing oil includes mustard powder as well as ginger, black pepper and a pinch of cayenne infused in oil. .
thanks for the story! she sounds a real hypochondriac though
Just a quick note to say (again!) how much I love receiving your columns! Hope you have a very Happy New Year! Elizabeth Quigley
Thank YOU, Elizabeth, for reading and responding! A very happy New Year to you, too, and to all our readers, from all of us at Jane Austen’s World.
I really enjoyed these excellent columns and resulting comments, as usual. I have a soft spot for the ridicule/reticule, and have been collecting references from the fashion descriptions of the time. No earth-shaking results to report yet, but one day I will do something with the info. But shoes in your reticule? I am not convinced, much less a bourdaloue. However, there are a couple of images in “Mrs. Hurst Dancing” that show the young ladies (on their way to a neighbour’s) carrying red bags slightly larger than the typical fashionable ridicule that I instantly assumed were shoe bags, as we all made and used for carrying our shoes to school in the winter months (in Western Canada in the 1960s), to change into from our boots. Does that over long sentence make any sense?
Personally, I an always trying to down-size my own reticule, but there is so much ‘stuff’ to stuff in there! I live in hope!
I have a pair of folding ballet pumps which can live happily in my handbag, which is deliberately small. they really to go quite small! but the concept of shoe bags makes sense.
Yes, I think they wore very lightweight dancing shoes, of silk perhaps, that could be rolled up small for the reticule. The bourdeloue was for longer journeys and certainly would have needed a bigger bag, if they actually did carry it that way!