The Sheridan-Grant Elopement scandal

Dagley, Taking Amiss

Loretta reports:

The Sheridan-Grant elopement, which more or less kicks off Scandal Wears Satin, was the talk of London for many weeks in the spring and early summer of 1835.  It's hard to make heads or tails of, going by the entries in the Court Journal, which assume one knows all the principals & can translate the initials & cryptic references. I couldn't sort out who was whom until I read the following summary in a life of King William IV.

You can click on the text here for an enlarged version, or read it online beginning on page 398 in The Sailor King: William the Fourth, His Court and His Subjects, Volume 2.

 

 Richard Dagley caricature, Taking Amiss, courtesy Ancestry Images.com

Independence Day, 1812

Isabella/Susan reporting:

Today most Americans are celebrating Independence Day with picnics and barbecues, trips to the beach or the lake, parades, baseball, and fireworks, and just general lazing around. The painting, above, may look more like a genteel Jane Austen-esque gathering than a Fourth of July celebration, but that's exactly what it is: Philadelphians gathering to celebrate the day in July, 1812.

Painted by German-born artist John Lewis Krimmel (1786-1821), the picture - click on the image to enlarge - is actually quite true to the spirit of the holiday. Like many Europeans, Krimmel was impressed by the democratic, orderly feel of the young republic, still less than forty years removed from revolution. Philadelphians from all different social groups have gathered together to observe the day. There's a group of fashion-conscious gentry and a family of Quakers in plain clothes, a few rakish bachelors, country folk gawking at the nude statue, children acting up, and a well-dressed African-American couple near the fence. Everyone appears to be enjoying themselves in a mannerly way. Even the dogs are getting along.

The temple-like building in the background isn't some classical folly, but a testament to civic welfare. In the late 18th c, Philadelphia had suffered from a horrific outbreak of yellow fever that had killed more than a tenth of the city's population. Believing that one of the causes of the outbreak was Philadelphia's notoriously bad drinking water and nonexistent sanitation, the city fathers commissioned architect Benjamin Latrobe to devise the country's first waterworks. Shown here is the central pump-house, built in 1800, which contained a steam-driven pump (the reason for the smoke drifting from the roof) that brought fresh water to houses and businesses throughout the city, and provided sufficient water pressure to wash streets and docks. This was a huge achievement that benefited the entire city, rich and poor alike. Celebrating Independence Day here, before such an obvious example of civic pride and unity, must have made perfect sense.

Another reason why this celebration doesn't seem quite as raucous as later ones would become: the United States had just declared war on Great Britain to begin what would later be called the War of 1812. The war was not popular – the congressional vote was the narrowest of any formal declaration of war in American history – and even the most bellicose of Philadelphians must have been wondering uncertainly what the future would bring.

Of course modern Americans know exactly how the War of 1812 turned out (at least the ones who even know there was such a war, but that's a separate issue altogether), and this year many Independence Day celebrations will be including bicentennial tributes. However you choose to observe the day, we wish you all the best!

Above: Fourth of July in Centre Square, Philadelphia, 1812, by John Lewis Krimmel

Celebrating the King's Birthday in 1835

King William IV

Loretta reports:

As some people may or may not realize, the English monarch’s birthday is not always celebrated on the actual anniversary of his or her birth.  Queen Elizabeth II, who was born on 21 April 1926, most recently celebrated her “official” birthday on 16 June 2012.

So it was in the case of the reigning monarch, King William IV,  in the time of Scandal Wears Satin.  In 1835 his official birthday—and the Drawing Room that caused so much anguish to one character—was 28 May.

~~~

In leaving the great quadrangle, and passing along in front of the tower, upon the quay, my attention was arrested by something like fifty very small brass pieces, not more than two feet in length, shaped like a howitzer, and placed in a line, a few feet apart, and having the appearance of being loaded, and ready to be discharged. It occurred to me instantly that I had often, when I was a boy, heard of the firing of the Park and Tower guns, and as this was done only on great occasions, I thought they must be very great guns, of course. Upon inquiry, I found that these squibs were to be let off at one o'clock, in honor of the King's birth-day. I do not know that a sense of the ludicrous ever came over me so powerfully as at that moment. However, I congratulated myself upon happening to be in London on the king's birthday, when I was further informed that it was not exactly and literally so", for he was born in the autumn, and not in the spring, and upon further inquiry, I ascertained that it is one of the rare prerogatives of the British monarch, to choose his own birthday, according to his own royal pleasure and convenience. This year it occurred in the month of May. Next year it may happen earlier or later, just according to the high behest of the throne. At one o'clock, I presume, the Park and Tower guns were fired, though I was not so fortunate as to hear them, and in the evening there were splendid illuminations, in St. James Square and other parts of the metropolis. —Supplement to the Connecticut courant, Volume 4, 1835

Illustration, Sir Martin Archer Shee (1769-1850), King William IV, from Wikipedia

A Georgian Lady's Riding Boots, c 1780

Isabella/Susan reporting:

Horseback riding was an important skill for 18th c English ladies. Not only was it a form of transportation, but it was also considered a suitable pastime for elegant Amazons, who liked to display their figures in closely-tailored habits as they rode side-saddle through the London parks or across the lands belonging to country houses.

We've shared plenty of examples of riding habits in the second half of the 18th c, such as these here and here, plus the proper hat to wear as well. But riding attire can't be entirely judged by contemporary portraits and prints. In most cases, the ladies are shown wearing the fashionable footwear of the day, which means dainty heeled shoes (like this shoe from 1785-90; there are dozens more on our Pinterest board.) Obviously this was a flattering style, and must have been a convenient way to display a well-turned ankle to all those officers riding in the park, too.

However, as is often the case, sensible reality wasn't quite so glamorous. While I've no doubt that there were ladies riding in shoes (just as there are modern young women riding on their boyfriend's motorcycles in slip-on flats), the true horsewomen of the time were beginning to wear riding boots like the ones left. With  their rounded top, set-back heel, and pointed toe, they do look odd in comparison to 21st c boots, but if viewed as an "extension" of an 18th c lady's shoe, they make perfect sense.

Most 18th c women's shoes were constructed with cloth uppers, with silk for fine ladies, woolen for more ordinary women, and fastened with a buckle. Riding boots were made instead of practical leather, and laced securely up the front. They would have protected the foot (and those thin stockings) and offered a sure footing in the stirrup. That protection must have also been welcome walking across a muddy stable-yard or field, conditions that would have proved fatal to a delicate silk shoe.

Few examples of riding boots survive in collections today, and the ones shown here are considered quite rare. Most boots would have simply been worn out and discarded. Besides, utilitarian boots would not have been saved for sentimental reasons, the way shoes worn for a wedding or for a Court presentation were. This pair of riding boots, right, are a modern recreation of a pair c 1780, and were made entirely by hand by Valentine Povinelli, of the Shoemaker's Shop, Colonial Williamsburg.

Left: Women's Boots, 1780-95, leather. Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Photograph courtesy The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Right: Reproduction 18th c Women's Boots,  c 2011, Colonial Williamsburg. Photograph copyright Susan Holloway Scott.

Summer-time Shameless Self-Promotion

As reported last week, Loretta's new historical romance Scandal Wears Satin, is now on sale. In case you're wondering what it's like and what it has to do with nerdy history, here's a chance to sample the first chapter online.

Isabella's newest historical romance, When You Wish Upon a Duke, won't be released until the very end of the month, but her publisher is giving away twenty early-bird copies to readers too eager to wait. Click here to be entered for the drawing (and no, you don't have to be a Goodreads member to enter - there's a place for entering by email address, too.)