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Archive for the ‘Regency Etiquette’ Category

Gentle Reader, July 18th marks the anniversary of Jane Austen’s Death. This post was first published in 2007:

Mary Austen nee Lloyd, the wife of James Austen, was present at Jane’s death. She wrote the following passage in her diary (See image below)

17 July 1817 “Jane Austen was taken for death about ½ past 5 in the Evening”
18 July 1817 Jane breathed her last ½ after four in the morn; only Cass[andra] and I were with her. Henry came, Austen & Ed came, the latter returned home”

Read a sad but fascinating account of Jane’s final hours, Jane Austen’s Final Resting Place, at Hantsweb.
Jane spent her last days in a small house in Winchester, near a doctor of some repute. She wrote in May:

I live chiefly on the sofa, but am allowed to walk from one room to the other. I have been out once in a sedan-chair, and am to repeat it and be promoted to a wheeled chair as the weather serves.” And speaking of her illness she remarks, “On this subject I will only say further that my dearest sister, my tender watchful, indefatigable nurse has not been made ill by her exertions. As to what I owe to her, and to the anxious affection of all my beloved family on this occasion, I can only cry over it, and pray to God to bless them more and more. – Chapter XXIII, Jane Austen: Her Homes & Her Friends (John Lane The Bodley Head, 1923) by Constance Hill.


Jane died on July 18, 1817. Cassandra, Jane’s dear sister, wrote these affecting words:

Since Tuesday evening, when her complaint returned, there was a visible change, she slept more and much more comfortably; indeed, during the last eight-and-forty hours she was more asleep than awake. Her looks altered and she fell away, but I perceived no material diminution of strength, and, though I was then hopeless of a recovery, I had no suspicion how rapidly my loss was approaching.

I have lost a treasure, such a sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed. She was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every sorrow; I had not a thought concealed from her, and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. I loved her only too well — not better than she deserved, but I am conscious that my affection for her made me sometimes unjust to and negligent of others; and I can acknowledge, more than as a general principle, the justice of the Hand which has struck this blow.

You know me too well to be at all afraid that I should suffer materially from my feelings; I am perfectly conscious of the extent of my irreparable loss, but I am not at all overpowered and very little indisposed, nothing but what a short time, with rest and change of air, will remove. I thank God that I was enabled to attend her to the last, and amongst my many causes of self-reproach I have not to add any wilful neglect of her comfort.

She felt herself to be dying about half-an-hour before she became tranquil and apparently unconscious. During that half-hour was her struggle, poor soul! She said she could not tell us what she suffered, though she complained of little fixed pain. When I asked her if there was anything she wanted, her answer was she wanted nothing but death, and some of her words were: “God grant me patience, pray for me, oh, pray for me!” Her voice was affected, but as long as she spoke she was intelligible.

Read the rest of the letter on the Republic of Pemberley website.

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Belle Assemblee Morning Dress, 1818

Belle Assemblee Morning Dress, 1818

Outward manifestations of grief have changed in mourning rituals over the centuries. These days when we think of 19th century mourning, we tend to confuse elaborate Victorian rules of the 1860’s with the less rigid mourning etiquette of the earlier 19th century. Mourning fashions during the Regency Period are fully described in Dressing for Mourning in the Regency on the Jane Austen Centre’s website. Only the wealthy could afford the specially made fashionable mourning outfits shown in the fashion plates featured in Ackermann’s Repository or La Belle Assemblee, but the rising popularity of fashion magazines meant that the details of dress quickly spread through the provinces. Most people remade mourning clothes from an existing wardrobe, adding new linings to cloaks and pelisses, covering existing bonnets with a new piece of crape, and dyeing old dresses. Jane Austen wrote about her mother in 1808: “My Mother is preparing mourning for Mrs E. K. – she has picked her old silk pelisse to peices, & means to have it dyed black for a gown – a very interesting scheme.

One can imagine how an illustration like the one on the right would inspire women to add mourning details to their wardrobes, but such an expensive outfit would still be beyond most women’s means. The middle class was rising in numbers at a time when mourning clothes became more affordable through mass production of cloth. With these cheaper, more readily available clothes, the custom of wearing specially made mourning outfits (as opposed to remade) began to trickle down the social ladder. The very poor, who often did not own more than one outfit, could not afford to follow these wardrobe rules. They could not even afford the dark or black caps and bonnets that were worn with these ensembles. All they could manage at most was a touch of black, such as a ribbon or armband.

Ackermann, Mourning Dress,, 1819

Ackermann, Mourning Dress,, 1819

One feature that characterized custom made or manufactured mourning clothes of the era were broad or deep hems of at least three inches. Women dressed in crêpe, the fabric of choice, or wore black bombazine silk, which had a matte finish as opposed to the sheen of regular silk, and converted their narrow hems into broad hems. Black was the only acceptable color in the first stage of mourning, which for widows and widowers lasted one year and one day.  After the initial mourning period was over, the griever could choose wear subdued grays, purples, lilacs, and lavenders, as well as white, which had been the color of mourning during the medieval period.  There were reports of widows choosing to wear heavy widow’s weeds for the rest of their lives, but in the early 19th century these decisions were made from choice and were not dictated by the inflexible example set by Queen Victoria.

Shiny material was unacceptable during heavy mourning, when only flat matte colors would do. Two stages of mourning – full mourning and half mourning – were already being followed, as evidenced in the fashion plates between 1800 and 1820. The subdued colors of half mourning were supposed to help a person transition to the brighter colors of regular wear, but for some, death was so common in an extended family that it might take some individuals years before they could safely abandon their mourning garb.

Women largely took on the burdens of official grieving. A man might be expected to wear a dark jacket black cravat, black or white shirt, black bordered handkerchief or armband, or a black ornament on his hat, but his life was not turned upside down like a woman’s, for he often wore black clothes as a matter of course.

Locket with Jane Austen's hair (?)

Locket with Jane Austen's hair (?)

Early in the mourning process, only matte black jewelry made with jet or black amber could be worn. During the second phase of mourning, the wearer was given a wider choice of jewelry to wear. Jewelry made with the beloved’s hair, such as this brooch made (purportedly) with Jane Austen’s hair, was extremely popular and had a long tradition harking back to the 1600’s. In medieval times, giving a token of one’s hair was a gesture of love or courtship.  (Willoughby took a lock of Marianne’s hair, which gave her family the impression that they were engaged.) Hair symbolized life, and was long-lasting. It is remarkable how “fresh” some of the hair samples in centuries old jewelry still seems today.

Evening Dress, Full Mourning, 1817

Evening Dress, Full Mourning, 1817

Widows and widowers followed stricter rules of mourning and for them the mourning period was the most intense and lasted the longest. Friends, acquaintances and employees mourned officially to a lesser degree, depending on their relationship to the dead person. ” The degree of the loss depends on the person, an infant had practically no value to society but adolescents were recognized more. Grandparents were not a marked loss as their usefulness had passed, the longest period is that of a spouse.” – Death.

Author Georgette Heyer, who knew the Regency Period backwards and forwards, included a passage in A Civil Contract in which the bride’s new family contemplated introducing her (Jenny) to Society after her husband’s father had recently died. It was obvious that her new mother-in-law could not introduce her, for she was still wearing the veil and observing the first stages of mourning:

[Lady Oversley] perceived the intricacies of the situation at once, and gave the matter her profound consideration. “She must be presented,” she decided. “It would have a very strange appearance if she weren’t, because one always is, you know, on the occasion of one’s marriage. And there is nothing improper in going to a Drawing-Room when in mourning, though not, I think, in colour—except lavender, perhaps. Only, who is to present her? In general, one’s mother does so, but poor Jenny has no mother, and even if she had—dear me, yes! this is a trifle awkward, because I don’t think you could ask it of your own mother. Not while she is in such deep mourning, I mean! Well, it will have to be me, though I am strongly of the opinion that if we could but hit on a member of your own family it would create a better impression.”
“My Aunt Nassington?” suggested Adam.
“Would she?”
“I think she might.”

It was traditional for the nation to mourn the death of a royal. Princess Charlotte’s death from childbirth in 1817 resulted in an elaborate funeral that rivaled the one held more recently for Princess Diana, and inspired the populace to wear black. This nation wide mourning was a precursor to the elaborate ceremonies that would be planned for Prince Albert’s funeral almost half a decade later in 1861.

More links on the topic:

*A special thank you to Laurel Ann of Austenprose and my blog partner at Jane Austen Today for sending me most of the images for this post.

Half mourning evening dress, 1819

Half mourning evening dress, 1819

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Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. – Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter Six

Exercise, cleanliness, and good skin care were as important in the 19th century as today. Back then a proper lady would not leave the house without covering her head with a bonnet, protecting her hands with gloves, and shading her skin with a parasol. Pale white skin had been highly prized for centuries, for it set a lady of quality apart from the working classes. Some women used dangerous cosmetics made of lead oxide to whiten their skin. These lotions, when used repeatedly, could lead to death or paralysis. It made more sense to follow a natural and safer regimen for preserving one’s looks:

“When the freshness of virgin youth vanishes; when Delia passes her teens, and fastly approaches her thirtieth year, she may then consider herself in the noon of the day, but the sun which shines so brightly on her beauties, declines while he displays them, and a few short years, and the jocund step, the airy habit, the sportive manner, all must pass away with the flight of Time. Before this happens, it would be well for her to remember that is is wise er to throw a shadow over her yet unimpaired charms, than to hold them in the light till they are seen to decay. (The Mirror of Graces, A Lady of Distinction, 1811, p 30)

Such a shadow would be provided by a parasol, a canopy over a carriage, or an awning when eating out of doors. Exercise, while considered healthy, would have been performed in moderation. Daily walks were encouraged, but too vigorous an exertion was not deemed wise. A lady should not exercise to the point of sweating or turning her face red, as Elizabeth Bennet did when she walked three miles to Netherfield to be with her sick sister. In this regard, a Lady of Distinction noted:

The preservation of an agreeable complexion (which always presupposes health,) is not the most insignificant of exterior charms….The frequent and sudden changes from heat to cold, by abruptly exciting or repressing the regular secretions of the skin, roughen its texture, injure its hue, and often deform it with unseemly, though transitory, eruptions. All this is increased by the habit ladies have of exposing themselves unveiled, and frequently without bonnets, in the open air. The head and face have no defense against the attacks of the surrounding atmosphere, and the effects are obvious. (The Mirror of Graces, P 42)

Almost a century later, the Household Companion: The Home Book Of Etiquette, written by Alice A. Johnson, Mrs. Janet McKenzie Hill, and Dr. Henry HartShorne extolled a similar beauty regimen. In addition to protecting the skin from the sun and encouraging mild forms of exercise, the book also recommended adequate sleep. The authors quoted a charming old lady, who …

… revealed the secret of her fair and rosy complexion to a group of young women as follows : ” Late hours,” said she, ” and oversleeping ruin the complexion. Go to bed early, arise early, and you will grow old slowly, and retain your good looks to an advanced age. If, however, your position forces you into society and you are obliged to be up late at night, sleep an hour every afternoon. Before going to bed take a hot bath and remain in the water only a few moments. Then drink a cup of bouillon, and a small glass of Malaga wine. Sleep will soon follow, and last until the natural time of awakening, which is about ten o’clock in the morning under these circumstances. Take a cold plunge or sponge bath, a light breakfast of café au lait, and bread without any butter.” She continued: “Out-of-door exercise is an absolute necessity, but must not be carried to excess. A daily walk is excellent, and it is scarcely necessary to say that whole days of lawn tennis, croquet, etc., are not favorable to the complexion.”

One imagines that this elderly lady had heard these beauty tips from female friends and relatives who had lived during the early 19th century. Milky white skin remained a hallmark of beauty until the 1920s when Coco Chanel created a stir with the tan she acquired on the Duke of Westminster’s yacht.

  • 2nd image: picnic on Boxhill, Emma 1996

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To the unrefined or underbred, the visiting card is but a trifling and insignificant bit of paper; but to the cultured disciple of social law, it conveys a subtle and unmistakable intelligence. Its texture, style of engraving, and even the hour of leaving it combine to place the stranger, whose name it bears, in a pleasant or a disagreeable attitude, even before his manners, conversation and face have been able to explain his social position. The higher the civilization of a community, the more careful it is to preserve the elegance of its social forms. It is quite as easy to express a perfect breeding in the fashionable formalities of cards, as by any other method, and perhaps, indeed, it is the safest herald of an introduction for a stranger. Its texture should be fine, its engraving a plain script, its size neither too small, so that its recipients shall say to themselves, ‘A whimsical person,’ nor too large to suggest ostentation. Refinement seldom touches extremes in anything. From “Our Deportment” by John H. Young, 1879 & 1881, p. 76. (Project Gutenberg)

Lady’s visiting card, Wikipedia, Public Domain

During the Georgian, Regency, and Victorian eras, calling cards were a necessary accessory for a gentleman or lady who called upon friends or acquaintances, or who wished to announce their presence in town. In fact, one wasn’t received unless one conveyed one’s card first. Gentlemen could place their addresses on their cards, but ladies could not, and a matron would naturally place her married name on her card, such as Mrs. John Smith. (Click on this link to see examples of Visiting Cards in the Regency.)

The best calling cards were made from plain, excellent quality paper and were engraved. They were kept in beautiful cases, such as the one above. A gentleman’s card case was slightly smaller than a lady’s, since he had to carry it in his pocket. Ornamentation on a card was considered to be poor taste, although as the 19th century progressed, the more colorful calling card seemed to become quite common.

For the recipient, calling cards were a handy way of recalling who had come to visit, and which calls needed to be returned. They were also effective in letting one know exactly where one stood in the social order. For example, if an individual received a calling card in lieu of a personal visit, well, then, the point was likely made.

For more information, click on this link: Calling Cards and the Etiquette of Paying Calls goes into some detail about using this important accessory.

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