Mysteries & rituals of marriage

Loretta reports:

King George IV might have learned something from this 1931 lighthearted look at marriage and mating rituals among various species: 

THE MYSTERY OF MARRIAGE (aka SECRETS OF MARRIAGE) - British Pathe

Or maybe not. . .

Henry Laurens: The Only American Imprisoned in the Tower of London

Susan reporting:

While the name of Henry Laurens (1724-1792) doesn't jump to the minds of most modern Americans as swiftly as does Thomas Jefferson or George Washington, he was another of the Founding Fathers, and an important figure in the American Revolution.  A native of Charleston, South Carolina, Laurens was an influential man, a wealthy merchant, plantation owner, slave-trader, and rice planter. Prominent in colonial politics, he hoped for reconciliation with Great Britain rather than a complete break.  But as relations with Britain worsened, he joined the revolutionary effort, serving as a delegate to the Continental Congress and later as its president.

The choice for revolution was not an easy one for men like Laurens with strong personal ties to England. His decision was not lightly made, and his conscience continued to be troubled by conflicting loyalties to the English Crown and to the fledgling country of his birth.

In 1779, Laurens was named by Congress as minister to the United Provinces (now The Netherlands.) Returning from a mission in Amsterdam in 1780, Laurens' vessel, the Continental packet Mercury, was captured by the British Navy off the banks of Newfoundland. He attempted to destroy his papers by throwing them over the side, but the British retrieved the pages from the water. The documents were considering sufficiently damning for Britain to declare war on the Dutch, and for the Navy ship to carry Laurens to London as a political prisoner. After being lodged briefly in Scotland Yard, he was charged with suspicion of high treason, and transferred to the Tower of London.

Laurens was the first and only American ever to be imprisoned in the Tower. The British realized the significance of their prisoner. As Laurens recorded in his diary, on his arrival at the Tower, "the guards on parade [chose] the tune of Yankee Doodle, played, I suppose, in derision of me, [but instead the tune] filled my mind with a sublime contempt & rather made me cheerful." He was held in the Tower for fifteen months, and was finally released on bail in December 1781. Soon after, he was officially exchanged for Lord Cornwallis, and permitted to continue his diplomatic work. With John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, and John Jay, he negotiated the first draft of the peace treaty with Great Britain – the peace he had always wanted.

For the most part, Laurens was treated as a gentleman in the Tower, without the physical hardships often faced by lesser prisoners during the war.  He suffered small, calculated deprivations, such as being denied paper and pen for writing, but he was permitted visitors, and he sat for the portrait, above left, while he was a prisoner. In this picture, the walls of the Tower are visible through the window, and Laurens' sober expression is reinforced by the text of the letter in his hand: "I have acted the part of a faithful subject. I now go resolved still to labour for peace at the same time determined in the last event to stand or fall with my country. I have the honour to be Henry Laurens."

Above: Henry Laurens, by Lemuel Francis Abbott, 1781, United States Senate.
Many thanks to the Learning Team of the Historic Royal Palaces (including the Tower of London, Hampton Court Palace, the Banqueting House, Kensington Palace, & Kew Palace) for their help with this post. If you're on Twitter, please follow them for interesting historical information of all kinds: @HRP_learning.

King George IV—some alternate views

Loretta reports:

The recent Friday funny video about King George IV  had me wondering, as always, Why?  Why, after he died, had so very few anything good to say about him? Why during his lifetime was he so mercilessly lampooned?  Why did so few defend him?  Why hasn’t the view of him mellowed with time?  Yes, we know all the bad stuff:  the mistresses, the marriage fiascos, the drinking, gluttony, and extravagance.  But he was hardly the first Prince of Wales or English monarch to behave badly.  Why is he judged so harshly?


Craving a little balance, I offer today some of the more sympathetic views that Kenneth Baker, in his wonderful book, George IV: A Life in Caricature,* includes in his introduction.

The Duke of Wellington:  “The most extraordinary compound of talent, wit, buffoonery, obstinacy, and good feeling—in short a medley of the most opposite qualities with a great preponderance of good—that I ever saw in any character in my life.”

The Princess Lieven:  “ . . . if remembered it was only to criticize his morals.  It is in the middle and lower classes especially that this side of his character has left a very unfavourable impression . . . which overshadows much that was striking and brilliant in his reign.  His glory is forgotten and his vices exaggerated.”

Walter Scott:  “in many respects the model of a British monarch—has little inclination to try experiments or government otherwise than through his ministers.” 

J.H. Plumb (the historian):  “Few kings have been so hated or so mocked or had their virtues so consistently ignored.”

We can thank him for some of London’s most beautiful architecture and that splendid fantasia, Brighton’s Royal Pavilion.  He made the Royal Collection one of the world’s finest.  “He was a generous patron of English literature . . . the best educated of any English monarch—his rivals being Henry VIII and Elizabeth I.”  Baker has more to say about his good qualities—and for a lengthy, and very interesting defense, here’s Max Beerbohm’s 1894 essay.

Next week, I’ll have something to say about the numerous caricatures.

*NHG Library recommendation.

Illustrations:   James Gillray, A voluptuary under the horrors of digestion, 1792 July 2d.
Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA
King George IV 1821, Courtesy Wikimedia.

When Too Much is Not Enough: A French Lady's Accessories, c. 1770

Susan reporting:

So often when clothes from the past are displayed in museums, they're shown as a single isolated piece, without any of the little personal additions that changes clothes into *my* clothes.  As we've discussed here before, the 18th century was an era of splendid fashion excess when it came to accessories (see here, here, and here, from a current exhibition in Colonial Williamsburg.)

True, the word "accessories" is a modern one, but these two now-unknown French ladies, c. 1770, left, certainly understood the concept. In this wonderful double portrait, both young women are wearing what appears to be silk damask gowns, robes a l'anglaise. As elegant as these gowns may be, they're only the foundation for everything else that's added on.

Both ladies have tied sheer white silk gauze aprons with ruffles on the edges over their gowns.(Here's an English example.) The triple-flounced lace cuffs, called engageantes, (here are examples) are pinned inside the sleeves of the gown, and the silk ribbon bows at the elbows are pinned on, too – clever ways that a lady could change the look of a gown. The lady in pink wears a gathered lace scarf around her neck, while the other lady wears one of fur, both anchored by more bows, pinned in place.

Flowers were popular decorative elements throughout the 18th century. While the red rose in the lady's hand is probably real (and symbolic of love and romance), the ones that decorate their clothes and bonnets are likely made of paper, artfully tinted and shaped. The bonnets are linen and lace, pinned on top of their tall, powered hair. The lady on the left carries another favorite 18th century accessory, a fan, that may be lace, silk, pierced ivory, or even painted chicken skin.

And then there's the jewelry. Both women are wearing chatelaines hanging from their waists. A chatelaine is a piece that hangs or clips to the waistband, with dangling chains that hold a lady's little necessities, like keys, scissors, seals, and watches. (Here is an example from the V&A, and another.) While the origins of chatelaines are useful, they're often beautifully made, costly status symbols, like the gold ones here that feature large gold watches with enamel faces.

The ladies wear matching heart-shaped necklaces (alas, the resolution of jpg isn't high enough for me to see them in detail.) They both wear clip earrings as well, plus jeweled brooches scattered across their hair and bonnets.  Are they real gemstones, or artful paste jewels? Either is possible, for ladies then, as now, mixed faux jewels with the real thing. There's one more accessory in this picture, one that no 18th c. lady would be without: the small spaniel, sitting on a silk cushion with his mistresses.

Above: Two ladies, one holding a fan and the other a rose, by an unknown French painter, c. 1770, The Bowes Museum

Labor Day for children

Loretta reports:

Today being the "working man's holiday,"  Labor Day, in the U.S., those of the history nerd persuasion might be interested in reading an actual child labor law from the early 20th century.  It will give some insight into the illustration.

~~~

§ 77. Hours of labor of minors and women.—No minor under the age of sixteen years shall be, employed, permitted or suffered to work in any factory in this state before six o'clock in the morning, or after nine o'clock in the evening of any day, or for more than nine hours in any one day. No minor under the age of eighteen years, and no female, shall be employed, [at labor] permitted or suffered to work in any factory in this state before six o'clock in the morning, or after nine o'clock in the evening of any day; or for more than ten hours In any one day [or sixty hours in any one week] except to make a shorter work day on the last day of the week; or for more than sixty hours in any one week, or more hours in any one week than will make an average of ten hours per day for the whole number of days so worked. A printed notice, in a form which shall be prescribed and furnished by the commissioner of labor, stating the number of hours per day for each day of the week required of such persons, and the time when such work shall begin and end, shall be kept posted in a conspicuous place in each room where they are employed. But such persons may begin their work after the time for beginning and stop before the time for ending such work, mentioned in such notice, but they shall not otherwise be employed, permitted or suffered to work [be required to perform any labor] in such factory except as stated therein. The terms of such notice shall not be changed after the beginning of labor on the first day of the week without the consent of the commissioner of labor [factory inspector]. The presence of such persons at work in the factory at any other hours than those stated in the printed notice shall constitute prima facie evidence of a violation of this section of the law.
—Annual report of the Commissioner of Labor, Volume 1, New York (State), 1904

Illustration:  Labor Day Parade, children in Child Labor demonstration, New York.  Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA.