Intrepid Ladies (with Swords): Hortense Mancini & Anne Lennard

Susan reports:

Loretta's recent post about dueling ladies of 1811 reminded me of another pair from 1675. In this case, the identities of the two ladies made for just as much gossip as their activity.

Hortense Mancini, duchesse Mazarin (1646-1699) was a high-born adventuress in every sense of the word. The favorite niece of Cardinal Mazarin, Hortense was married off at fifteen in 1661 to the richest gentleman in Europe. Unfortunately, he was one of the most mentally unbalanced as well, and in 1668 Hortense fled the marriage.

Roaming across Europe, she cut a flamboyant figure wherever she went: tall and beautiful in either men's clothing or women's, she rode and drank hard, gambled, shot pistols, swam in rivers, took lovers of both genders, played the guitar and danced like a gypsy. When she finally landed in London in 1675, King Charles II was duly impressed, and soon Hortense was sharing his bed.

But the Roman duchesse also captivated another: Anne Lennard, Countess of Sussex (1661-1721). The fifteen-year-old countess was the first child (of many) of Charles and Barbara Palmer, Duchess of Cleveland. Legitimized and ennobled, the countess had been unhappily married for two years when Hortense arrived, and the pair soon became not only great friends, but almost certainly lovers.

Thus our combatants: one lady who is mistress to the king, but also involved in a lesbian affair with the other lady, half her age, who is a daughter of that same king. As can be imagined, this was scandalous even in Restoration England, and the gossip was fierce. Here is a report in a letter by the clearly titillated Lady Chaworth to her brother Lord Roos in December, 1676:

"Lady Sussex and Madame Mazarin have privately learnt to fence, and went downe into St. James Parke the other day with drawne swords under theire night gownes, which they drew out and made severall fine passes with, to the admiration of severall men that was lookers on in the Parke."

Predictably, Lord Sussex was not amused:

"They say [Lady Sussex's] husband and she will part unless she leave the Court and be content to live to him in the country, he disliking her much converse with Madame Mazarin and the addresses she gets amongst that company."*

Lord Sussex kept his word, and hauled his wife off to the country with him, where it was reported Anne took to her bed and wept bitterly, kissing a miniature portrait of Hortense. Back in London, Hortense merely shrugged, and moved on to her next extracurricular lover (in addition to Charles): Louis I de Grimaldi, Prince de Monaco.

But Anne wasn't done enhancing her notoriety, either. Taken next to a nunnery in Paris in 1678, she soon found ways to slip free, and at seventeen, began a heated affair with the forty-year-old English ambassador, Ralph Montagu (1638-1709) - who had once been one of her mother's lovers as well.

Above: Portrait of Hortense Mancini by Jacob Voet, 1671, The Hermitage, St. Petersburg, Russia

* From The Manuscripts of His Grace the Duke of Rutland, preserved at Belvoir Castle

June Fashions 1820 and 1829

Loretta reports:

I thought to do a little compare and contrast today.  These June fashions illustrate how women’s dress changed between 1820 and 1829.  By the later date, the waistline’s come down, the skirt is swelling out, and sleeves are starting the steady increase in pouffiness that will reach a truly entertaining phase in the 1830s.

~~~~~~~~~~
FASHIONS FOR JUNE, 1820.
EXPLANATION OF THE PRINTS OF FASHION.
No 1.—FANCY BALL DRESS. White slip of gros-de-Naples,* under a frock of fine net, richly embroidered with silver, and trimmed in the most splendid manner with geranium colour and roses of real silver lama.** Head-dress a diadem bandeau of diamonds, with a regal coronet and plume of white feathers. White shoes of figured gros-de-Naples, and white kid gloves.

From La Belle Assemblée.  Publisher J. Bell, 1820

REPOSITORY OF FASHIONS.
No. VI.] JUNE, 1829. [PRICE 2S.
ENGLISH FASHIONS.

DINNER DRESS.
Dress of Aurora colour crêpe aërophane*** over a satin slip of the same colour; the corsage made close to the shape, displaying to advantage the fine formed bust; it is made extremely low on the shoulders, and adorned in the centre and sides with pinnatifid**** columns of satin ; the sleeve short and very full; the skirt is ornamented by tucks half a quarter wide, extending half way up the dress : pinnatifid columns extend perpendicularly, and give a grace and finish to this novel kind of dress.

The head-dress is composed of an Aurora coloured hat, profusely decorated with large plumes d'Autriche and large bows of striped gauze riband ; under the brim of the hat, on the left side, is placed a rosette, composed of blonde***** and riband, like that which decorates the crown. Pearl necklace ; white satin shoes and sandals ; white kid gloves.

R. Ackermann's Repository of fashions [4th ser. of the Repository of arts, literature, fashions, manufactures].Published1829

*"a corded Italian silk similar to Irish poplin; 'lutestring, now termed gros de Naples'" (English Women's Clothing of the Nineteenth Century, C. Willett Cunnington)
**lamé
***thin crinkled semi-transparent fabric
****like fern fronds
*****silk lace

A Deadly Shade of Green

Susan reporting:

Last week I visited an exhibition at the Museum at Fashion Institute of Technology in NYC. Eco-Fashion: Going Green presented a number of beautiful clothes, and far more disturbing facts about the clothing industry.

For example:

• The US consumes approximately 84 pounds of textiles per person per year.

• The average garment purchased in the US is only worn six times before being discarded: the cycle of "Fast Fashion."

• Over 8,000 different chemicals are currently being used to turn raw materials into textiles. Many are irreversibly damaging to people and the environment. *

Sobering, yes, and sadly nothing new. By the middle of the 19th c., more and more clothing was being mass-produced rather than individually hand-sewn for the wearer, with technological advances such as sewing machines and high-speed textile looms bringing the industrial revolution to fashion. Suddenly style was available to everyone, rather than a privileged few.

Innovation also came in new colors. In 1856, an eighteen-year-old chemistry student named William Henry Perkin (1838-1907) accidentally created the first aniline dye, a vivid purple dubbed mauveine, and from this sprang a whole spectrum of colors. These new dyes were brighter and bolder than any old-fashioned mineral pigments, and soon all fashionable ladies – whether dressed in common calico or imported silk - were wearing the vivid hues like so many gaudy parrots.

There was only one catch: that lovely, brilliant shade of Perkin green (one of the most popular of the new colors) contained arsenic as a by-product of its manufacture. Not only were the dye-workers sickening and eventually dying from the aniline dyes, but those who wore the fabric daily against their skin or breathed the fumes were also at risk. By 1870, the threat was widely known – see this grim Punch cartoon from 1862 of stylish skeletons ready for the "New Dance of Death" - but the arsenic-based dyes remained in use in clothing throughout the 19th c. Their fall from grace wasn't due to public outrage, but to fashion, as newer dyes and colors gradually replaced the old ones.

The fashion plate, above, contains an arsenic double-whammy: not only were the day dresses shown made of fabric treated with aniline dyes, but the printer's ink that was used in the reproduction likely contained the same chemicals. Going green was never so deadly....

* Facts from the exhibition brochure.

Top: Fashion plate from Godey's Lady Book, 1861.

Update: For more about an earlier toxic green used during the Regency era, check out this post over at Jane Austen's World. Clearly those involved in chemical colors didn't learn much from history!

Intrepid women of 1811 & 1812

Loretta reports:

Romance writers are often accused of allowing their heroines to behave in ways "real" women of the time wouldn't have done.  The female disguised as a male is one example.  Yet we know it happened.  Women didn't always get away with it—but they did believe they could.   The duel described below speaks, I think, for itself—and don't we all want to know what they were fighting about.  The illustrations are not of the time.  Alas, I couldn't find any.  If you can, please give us a link.

PROVINCIALS—REMARKABLE OCCURRENCES, &c. &c.
HAMPSHIRE.
SINGULAR CIRCUMSTANCE.—A singular circumstance occurred on board the ship Regalia, in the harbour of Portsmouth, a short time since.— The Captain (Palmer) had two apprentices sent him from London, by the owners, both of whom were regularly bound, and had been on board some time. One of them fell overboard in the harbour, and was with much difficulty got on board the ship; when the supposed lad proved to be a young girl about sixteen years of age! She said she had procured a living near London, by working in the fields; but disliking the employment, and without a character to recommend her to any housekeeper's employment, she was induced to pass herself off as a young lad, wishing to go to sea, when she was regularly bound to serve as an apprentice to the owners of the Regalia. The crew handsomely subscribed to rig her out with female clothing, and she is for the present under the notice of the Hon. Mrs. Grey.

La Belle assemblée: or, Bell's court and fashionable magazine, Volume 5. Publisher J. Bell, 1812

INCIDENTS OCCURRING IN AND NEAR LONDON, INTERESTING MARRIAGES, &c.

FEMALE DUELLING.—The famous duel between two French ladies, occasioned by mutual jealousy of each other, is no longer without a parallel. We must, however, enter our protest against the practice ; for should it become general, the hearts of the rougher sex may be exposed, first to a fatal glance from n love-sick fair, and ultimately to a fatal bullet from an angry one. The following is the story as given in the Newspapers:—"A curious report is in circulation in the fashionable world. Two ladies in high life having had a dispute at the Prince's fete, a challenge actually ensued, and the parties proceeded to Kensington Gardens, with their female seconds, who took with them a brace of pistols each, in their ridicules. The seconds having charged, by mistake put in the balls first. The Amazons afterwards took their ground, but missed fire, when their difference was adjusted by the interference of their mutual friends."

From La Belle assemblée: or, Bell's court and fashionable magazine, Volume 4.  Publisher  J. Bell, 1811

Labor-Saving Devices: The Geneva Fluter

Susan reporting:

As I've mentioned before, I'm a sucker for a good flea market. Last weekend I was prowling the goodies in Lancaster County, PA, and discovered this antique labor-saving device.

The rocker-like device is called a Geneva Fluter (it proudly says so right there, embossed on the top in raised letters), and many late 19th c. women would probably have recognized it. The fluter is a specialized kind of "sad iron", used to press the fluted ruffles on linen cuffs and collars and other trim. (Here's more about historical

ironing.)

Made from cast iron, the fluter would have been propped before the coals in the hearth to heat. The piece to be ironed would be moistened and laid over the grooved base. Then, with a potholder wrapped around the handle, the heated iron would be rocked over the cloth, and with a hiss of steam, the linen would be perfectly pressed with rows of narrow flutes or pleats.

The weight of the iron and the heat would do most of the work, and compared to pleating and pressing the narrow ruffles individually, this

truly must have been a labor-saving device. Still, there also must have been plenty of room for error and scorching, and the learning curve must have involved considerable trial and error, plus a burn or two.

Made by a foundry in Geneva, IL, that specialized in household goods, the popular hand fluters were manufactured from 1866-1920, and were exported around the world. Once only wealthy ladies with maids and laundresses could have such skillfully ironed linens. Now women of the rising middle class wished to be fashionable, too, and the Geneva fluter took its place in households across America.

My flea-market fluter came with a base that's of a later date (after 1890) that was made in Philadelphia, not Geneva, but the principle's the same. The top plate with the grooves opens, and iron slugs, heated before the hearth like the fluter, would be placed inside to heat the grooves above it. Here's the more elaborate fluter that originally accompanied the base.

Still, mismatched or not, I thought I'd try it out. Not with linen; I'm afraid of that "patina" of old rust and corrosion, nor do I have an open hearth. But I did run a strip of printer paper across the grooves, and viola! Perfectly fluted, ruffled printer paper.