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Regency Mourning

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

When Fanny Price first arrived at Mansfield Park, her cousins  found her ignorant on many things. “Dear mama, only think, my cousin cannot put the map of Europe together.”  The girls  were referring to dissected geography puzzles, now known as jigsaw puzzles, that had first made their appearance in Europe in the 18th century and were popularized and widely used in England and America in the 19th and 20th centuries. Mansfield Park makes one of the earliest references to this educational way of teaching of geography. While Fanny Price’s cousins teased her for not being familiar with these expensive new schoolroom toys, the truth was that her Portsmouth parents could not afford them.

At the turn of the 18th century,  British companies began to make toys that are still favorites today: toy soldiers, farmyards, wooden building blocks, steam engines, and kaleidoscopes. The toymaking industry began to boom, making mass-produced toys cheap enough to afford. By the start of the Regency Period,  people had become accustomed to purchasing them and they became educational in nature as well, such as puzzles. Many sources claim that John Spilsbury, a teacher in England, created the first jigsaw puzzle in  1767.  He glued a map of England and Wales  to a  flat thin piece of mahogany board and used a fine saw (fretsaw) to cut along the borders of the counties, which made up the separate pieces.  The “dissected map” became instantly successful.

18th century Dutch dissected puzzle

18th century Dutch dissected puzzle

While it is popularly thought that Spilsbury created the first dissected puzzle, the Dutch dissected puzzle in this image was made ca. 1750 (Cartographic dept. Univ. Library of Amsterdam), predating Spilsbury’s invention by seventeen years. If you will notice, only the borders of this early map of Europe interlock but not the central parts. ( Theo de Boer.) The Dutch puzzle might well be one of the earliest jigsaw puzzles made in the world, but there is evidence that several countries in Europe, including France, were teaching geography in this “entertaining manner.” As an interesting aside, so many new geographical features were discovered during this period of scientific discovery and exploration, that maps quickly became outmoded as new ones were drawn.

Before long, pictorial puzzles became popular, teaching such subjects as history, alphabets, botany, biblical scenes, and zoology. Soon the puzzles began to be made for their entertainment value as well. Click here to view two fine examples of early puzzles, including an alphabet puzzle.

Colorful_british_pub_picturEarly puzzles did not come with an image that helped people to solve them, and a careless movement could ruin hours of painstaking work.The treadly saw, first used in 1880, could cut out more intricate shapes, and thus the jigsaw puzzle was born. The interlocking pieces held firmly together and the game took off in popularity. Paperboard began to replace wood and the pieces became more varied and intricate. The game was portable, became more affordable with the passing years, and could entertain families for hours at a time. By the early 19th century, America in particular experienced a puzzle craze that lasted for decades and still exists today.

Cousin Kate

Almost every writer of the Romance genre will try her hand at a Gothic tale; even Jane Austen did it in Northanger Abbey, although to be really accurate, she was poking fun at her heroine rather than developing a scary tale. Georgette Heyer takes her turn in Cousin Kate, and while this is a darker story than most of her romances, her Gothic tale is not so far-fetched as it is mysterious and uncomfortable for her heroine. Perhaps, like Jane, Georgette is too sensible and too amused by life’s foibles to take the Gothic seriously.

Pretty Kate Malvern is in dire straits as the book opens. She is the only offspring of parents who ran off and married without the approval of either of their families. Her father, an Army officer, was more successful in war than in peace, where his propensity for gaming squandered what little money he had, since he had been disowned by his starchy father. His death was ignominious, and left his child not only orphaned, her mama having died when Kate was 12, but destitute. At 24, Kate must support herself, because with no money and no family, she is not likely to make a good marriage.

Young ladies who found themselves in such situations had few options: governess or companion being the best. Kate has just been “turned off”, or fired, from her position as governess to three young children because their uncle, brother to their mother, had fallen for her and the old gorgon who was the children’s grandmother, disapproved. Kate runs to her old nurse, her only refuge, for a place to stay while she makes her plans for her uncertain and likely unhappy future. Mrs. Nidd, a woman of high energy and great resource, contacts Kate’s aunt. Kate has never met her, nor had there ever been any correspondence between her father and his sister, but, interestingly, or strangely, enough Aunt Minerva, or Lady Broome, comes in to take Kate off to her home, Staplewood.

“ ‘You are too young to know what it means to have been an only child, when you reach my age and have no close relations, and no daughter! I have always longed for one, and never more so than now! It’s true I have a son, but a boy cannot give one the same companionship. Dear child, I’ve come to carry you off to Staplewood! I’m persuaded I must be your natural guardian!
“But I am of age ma’am!” protested Kate, feeling as though she were being swept along on an irresistible tide.
“Yes, so your kind nurse has informed me. I can’t compel you – heaven forbid that I should – but I can beg you to take pity on a very lonely woman!’ ”

And so Kate goes off to spend the summer at the great manor. She meets Sir Timothy, Lady Broome’s much older and frail husband, and Torquil, her incredibly good-looking son. She is surprised to know that the two men live in opposite wings of the house and seem to have little to do with one another. Dr. Delabole, a somewhat smarmy man who seems to be acting as a companion to her beautiful young cousin, completes the household.

Kate settles in to a life unlike anything she has experienced, because the family lives so very quietly and she has so little to do. Her one concern is that the letters she sends to Mrs. Nidd are not answered, and she becomes increasingly aware that she is entirely cut off from the world. It seems to this reader that Kate is very slow on the uptake, but that could be because she has not read many Gothic tales. The over-strict watch on her cousin, his wild displays of temper and capricious behaviors alert the reader to the dangers ahead. Fortunately, there is another cousin, Philip Broome. He is related to Sir Timothy, and although he often stayed with his uncle in his youth, Lady Broome, whose strong character rules the household, does not care to have him visit often. Philip, however, is not deterred, and he, along with Mr. Nidd, Mrs. Nidd’s papa-in-law, ensure that everything is resolved in the proper fashion.

As always with Heyer’s books, the dialogue among the characters is completely delightful. Kate, who was raised following the drum, knows more about young men than do most young ladies of her era and can hold her own in any conversation. Incurably forthright, she wins Philip’s heart quickly, as well as the devotion of Sir Timothy. The Gothic devices of screams in the night, locked doors and horrendous thunderstorms are not the normal Heyer fare, but the winning heroine and the steady and handsome hero are as good as any she created. The somewhat clumsy Gothic device of considering everything to be wonderful as soon as we achieve the death of the dangerous character is a little off-putting for me; still, once this heroine meets her hero there is nothing more to be done but marry them and settle them happily ever after. They certainly agree.

Cousin Kate is not the best of Georgette Heyer’s romance novels, but even a weak Heyer is better than an offering of almost any other Romance writer. It’s a great read for a stormy night. As she always does, Georgette Heyer builds a wonderful and complete world for her reader to sink into – like a bubble bath or a welcoming chair to relax you at the end of a busy day, but more fun. Much more fun.

Gentle Reader,

When Georgette Heyer wrote Cousin Kate in 1968 she had the flu and contracted ‘the worst cold of the century.’  She caustically informed her editor: “[I have] done about 30,000 words of Cousin Kate, and they stink. I don’t suppose you ‘ve ever been subjected to a course of diuretics, but I can assure you that they have the most disintegrating effect.”

While Georgette’s synopsis of the novel was superb –

Cousin Kate is the orphaned daughter of an impoverished Peninsular officer. Her mother died years ago, and she followed the drum with Pop. He must have been a very volatile type, because , when he died (of natural causes, after Waterloo) he left her with nothing but debts. I expect he was a gamester, or Lived Above his Income, but I’ll work that out later. Don’t interrupt!

– she was not pleased with the novel and told her publisher, “I don’t want to sound insufferable, but I know from the various booksellers of my acquaintance that when it comes to selling ME, no one wants to know what my latest effort is About: they only want to know whether there is a new Heyer Out.”

My friend, Lady Anne, reviewed the novel, and while she generally agrees that this story is not among Heyer’s best efforts, the book went straight to the top of the best-seller lists, and years later still provides its readers with hours of suspense and fun.*

  • *The Private World of Georgette Heyer, Jane Aiken Hodge, ISBN 0-370-30508-6,  P 178-179

My Other Georgette Heyer Reviews Sit Below

Lady Anne is my special friend and co-founder of Janeites on the James. For this fine review, she has earned a ratafia at one of Richmond’s select restaurants for ladies who kvetch, gossip, and lunch.

New Season 2 Wallander episodes can be watched online on PBS Masterpiece Mystery! To read my review, click here. To watch this week’s episode online until November, click here.

Watch Wallander on PBS Masterpiece Mystery, Sunday May 17th

Watch Wallander on PBS Masterpiece Mystery, Sunday May 17th

Missed the first two episodes of Wallander? Watch them online at this PBS link starting May 11, as well as behind the scenes videos and interviews with the actors.
wallander2
Kenneth Branagh’s performance as Wallander in PBS’s new mystery series of the same name is memorable. His baggy eyes are rimmed with red from lack of sleep, his middle aged body is lumpy and careworn, and he is as depressed as the families of the victims he investigates. From the opening scenes I immediately understood that this production of the popular Swedish detective series, which has a spare and existential feel, will offer no light frothy treatment of the detective genre. Set in southern Sweden and the Swedish port city of Ystad (pronounced EE-stad), the movie is beautifully filmed. Having never visited Sweden, it was a delight to view the film’s stark and gorgeous settings.

46802581PBS will offer three 90-minute installments of Wallander on Masterpiece Mystery during May. The first episode is called Sidetracked and opens with the gruesome suicide of a 15-year-old girl. Wallander is on the trail of a serial killer who, after he murders his male victims, scalps them. The story, while beautifully filmed and acted, was a little too easy for me to solve. I knew almost immediately that there was a connection between the young suicide and middle-aged victims, and I guessed the killer at almost the moment I saw the person. Mind you, I have never read Henning Mankell’s books, so I didn’t know the plot ahead of time, but when one is exposed to superb acting and excellent production values  (shot last summer, the series cost £7.5m), one can forgive the heavy-handed clues that were dropped like lead-footed bombs throughout the plot.

The author observed about Wallander:

My ambition from the beginning was to show a man who was always changing, never fixed,” Mankell says. “That is one of the secrets to his success. He has a working-class background, and to become a police officer, he had to choose his place in society. At that time, you had to be conservative. But he’s not completely sure about what’s right and wrong.

From Mankell’s description, Kenneth Branagh IS Wallander. You can watch the first episode online on PBS’s website for a limited period starting May 11. Look for the next two episodes to air Sundays on your local PBS station at 9 pm.

Sidetracked, Episode One of Wallander

Sidetracked, Episode One of Wallander

1. Sidetracked: A 15-year-old girl commits suicide by immolating herself. Click on the link to learn more about episode one.

2. Firewall: A teenage girl stabs a taxi driver and seemingly doesn’t care about the consequences. Wallander races against the clock to solve a mystery that is reminiscent of a ’24’ episode. In this episode Wallander shows his softer, tender side as his daughter convinces him to start dating again.  Unfortunately, he fails to balance his personal life with his work life, and his new relationship almost ends before it starts. Online episodes of Firewall will be available on Monday, May 18th.

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Lady Maria Hamilton, 1802, by Thomas Lawrence.

Lady Maria Hamilton, 1802, by Thomas Lawrence.

Inquiring Reader: You’ve probably seen the necklaces dozens of times without noticing them. I have. These beautiful single string coral necklaces worn by Regency ladies escaped my attention until my friend and blogging partner on Jane Austen Today, Laurel Ann of Austenprose, sent me some spectacular images, such as the one of Lady Maria Hamilton, who died in 1814 unmarried. Coral has enjoyed a long and ancient tradition, first worn as a talisman and later for its color and beauty. One of my favorite drawings by Peter Paul Rubens depicts his son with a coral necklace. At the time coral was thought to protect the wearer.

Nicolaas Rubens Wearing a Coral Necklace, Peter Paul Rubens, Red and black chalk heightened with white and some black ink on paper, c. 1619

Nicolaas Rubens Wearing a Coral Necklace, Peter Paul Rubens, Red and black chalk heightened with white and some black ink on paper, c. 1619

The tradition of giving children coral necklaces continued through the 19th century, as shown in this detail of a late 18th century John Hoppner painting of one of the Sackville girls. The gemstone was considered a guardian of sorts, protecting children from illnesses like stomachaches, fever, typhus, smallpox, and rickets. The mala beads were polished to a smooth sheen and matched in color. Bead sizes could be similar or gradated from small to larger stones that were strung in the center.

The Sackville Children, detail, John Hoppner, 1796

The Sackville Children, detail, John Hoppner, 1796

Handmade jewellery created during the late Georgian Era (1760-1837) is extremely hard to find today.  As styles changed, the pieces were remade rather than tossed out or sold. Until the latter part of the 18th century, coral was harvested from the sea largely by dredging. Fine quality red coral came from the Mediterranean – Algeria, France, Italy, Morocco, Spain, Tunisia and the islands of Corsica, Sardinia and Sicily, with some saying that the best corals came off the coasts of Algeria and Tunisia. Eighteenth century coral was a rich warm red and is unavailable today. In fact, original antique jewellery made with dark red coral is so difficult to find that it has become a highly prized collectible.

Jane Elizabeth, Countess of Oxford, John Hoppner, 1797

Jane Elizabeth, Countess of Oxford, John Hoppner, 1797

Early 19th century red coral necklace

Early 19th century red coral necklace

Simple round necklaces, like the one worn by the Countess of Oxford, were popular and complimented low necklines, but chokers were also fashionable, like the Georgian Cannetille Sardinian red coral four strand necklace on the left. Coral is made up of the skeletal material built up by small animals that live in slow growing colonies in the sea. Colors range from vivid orange, red, and white, to salmon and pale pink (called angelskin coral). In jewelry making coral is either carved into beads, cameos, and other forms, or is left in its natural branch-like form and simply polished. (My mother had such a necklace, which I played with as a child.) The most sought after color (and the rarest) is a deep red, as in the necklace at left.  Coral manufacturing during the Regency Period consisted primarily of filing beads of smoothed coral and stringing necklaces. Because coral consists of calcium carbonate, it is extremely sensitive to chemicals,  perfumes, and body acids. Like pearls, the necklaces must be washed with a damp cloth (no detergents) and restrung periodically.

Little boy placing a coral necklace on a dog's neck, Martin Drolling

Little boy placing a coral necklace on a dog's neck, Martin Drolling

detail of Jacopo Vignali's Head of a Young Woman, 17th c

Many mystical and medicinal properties were attributed to coral, among them vitality, physical strength, stronger marital relationships, wealth, increased sensuality, and protection while out to sea. Coral was also used as a medicinal powder. Primitive physics believed that coral oxides mixed with honey made a person strong. Mix it with betel leaf and it made a potent cure for cough and heart disease. Coral powder is still a popular aphrodisiac in India today, which prompts avaricious collectors to dynamite coral reefs, putting fragile reefs in acute danger. In the detail of a 17th century drawing by Jacopo Vignali at right, one can easily see why this semi-precious stone was considered to have sensual qualities. The combination of the coral necklace and her full lips make the young woman look both fragile and seductive. Thank you, Laurel Ann, for introducing me to this fascinating topic! As you can see, I got a little carried away.

More information about corals can be found in these links: