Death and Dying in Regency England

Posted on August 17, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

As with any good (or bad) mystery, there are several deaths in my next Jane Austen adaptation/sequel, The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy. However, death and funerals were not on the order of present day “farewells.” If one has ever read Jessica Mitford’s “Behind the Formaldehyde Curtain,” he will early on wonder about the embalming process or the lack of it in the previous centuries.

In nineteenth century England, people died early on from disease, childbirth, accidents, and even murder. One thing that a lot of people get wrong when they write funeral scenes for the Regency is having a graveside service where a priest or friend eulogizes the dead person in the cemetery. At that time, cemeteries were considered consecrated ground, and a person was not permitted to have non-sacred speeches or texts read aloud at the gravesite. One would only have the traditional “ashes to ashes” liturgy at the burial itself.

Although they were forbidden to attend the funeral because of their “delicate” sensibilities, when a person died, the women in the family would prepare the body. Occasionally, a gentleman’s valet would do the job. Whoever was assigned the task would wash the person’s body and hair and then dress the corpse. Often, those in charge would use small objects hidden under the shirt or cravat to keep the person’s chin elevated and the mouth closed.

Embalming was not used in England for many years following the Regency Period so keeping the body “fresh” was always an issue. Placing the body on ice was one was to deal with the quickly decaying corpse. Funerals normally took place within a few days of the death. Floral arrangements about the bodies were used to mask the stench of the decay.

The wealthy had tombs for the family’s burial needs. The middle class/gentry were buried in coffins. I saw a recent ad for “renting a casket.” In the Regency, the poor would rent a coffin to transport the deceased to the cemetery where the body was dumped out of the coffin so as to return the box to the coffin maker. The coffin was cut after the person died. The fresh smell of the wood, usually pine, would cover some of the smell of the decaying body. 

According to a law (predating 1823), a person who committed suicide was to be buried at a crossroads with a stake through the corpse’s heart. The stake kept the ghost from returning (see the cemetery scene in my Vampire Darcy’s Desire). Burial at a crossroads diluted the person’s evilness by sending his spirit in four directions. Until 1870, a person who committed suicide also lost all his personal property to the Crown. From 1823 to 1832, instead of the stake, the deceased had to buried at night between the hours of nine and midnight. Eventually, suicide cases were permitted to be buried in a Church of England graveyard, but no service could be conducted over the body.

The possibility of premature resurrection was common during the period. Medical schools were only permitted to use the cadavers of those who were executed for a crime. There were never enough bodies for anatomical study. Surgeons would hire grave robbers to exhume likely candidates for medical study. An efficient grave robber would dig down to where the head was located and pull the body out without disturbing the whole site. They would leave the grave clothes behind. Having a dead body was not a great offense, but a body dressed in grave clothes would be seven years’ transportation if the robber was caught.

Mourning the departed was not adhered to with such strict “guidelines” during the Regency Period, as it was during the Victorian Period. Queen Victoria mourned Albert until her own death. According to Trumbach in The Rise of the Egalitarian Family, a person would mourn: 12 months for a husband or wife; 6 months for parents or parents-in-law; 3 months for a sister or brother, uncle or aunt; 6 weeks for a sister-in-law or brother-in-law; 3 weeks for aunts/uncles who remarried; 2 weeks for first cousin; 1 week for second and third cousins, as well as the husband or stepmother’s sister.

Posted in British history, gothic and paranormal, real life tales, Regency era | 9 Comments

The Isle of Portland and Nanny Diamond Fairies

Posted on August 16, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

The Isle of Portland is a limestone tied island, 6 kilometres (4 mi) long by 2.4 kilometres (1.5 mi) wide, in the English Channel. Portland is 8 kilometres (5 mi) south of the resort of Weymouth, forming the southernmost point of the county of Dorset, England. A tombolo, over which runs the A354 Road, connects it to Chesil Island and the mainland.

Portland is a central part of the Jurassic Coast, a World Heritage Site on the Dorset and east Devon coast, important for its geology and landforms. Portland stone, famous for its use in British and world architecture, including St Paul’s Cathedral and the United Nations Headquarters, continues to be quarried.

Portland Harbour, in the bay between Portland and Weymouth, is one of the largest man-made harbours in the world. Building of stone breakwaters between 1848 and 1905 formed the harbour. From its inception it was a Royal Navy base, and played prominent roles during the First and Second World Wars; ships of the Royal Navy and NATO countries exercised in its waters until 1995. The harbour is now a civilian port and popular recreation area, which will be used for the 2012 Olympic Games.

The Isle of Portland, Dorset, contains eight settlements, the largest being Fortuneswell in Underhill and Easton in Tophill. Castletown and Chiswell are the other villages in Underhill, and Weston, Southwell, Wakeham and the Grove occupy Tophill.

On the isle, near Southwell, fairies, known as “Nanny Diamonds” reportedly haunt the road. Likely, the name comes from “Nanoid,” meaning dwarf like and “Diana,” the Goddess of the Moon.

Dorset, itself, has numerous earthworks and barrows. It is believed that fairies inhabit these burial mounds. Six hillocks from the Bronze Age

The Dorset landscape would not be complete without is numerous ancient earthworks and barrows. In the past, these burial mounds were believed to be inhabited by fairies. Six hillocks, dating to the Bronze Age, can be seen from Bincombe Hill overlooking the port of Weymouth. These hills are known as the “Music Barrows.” Legend says that if one puts his ear to the top of one of the barrows at noon, he can hear the plaintive tones of fairy music.

The Isle of Portland was once a popular fairy haunt, but according to local legend; when the first church bell rang out over the island, all the fairies were seen fleeing in terror along the Chesil Beach and were said to have never returned. However, small fairies known as ‘Nanny Diamonds’ are still said to haunt Southwell, along the road that leads to Cheyne.

They wear short white dresses and white Phrygian hats and though they seem quite cute and friendly, they are not to be trusted, for they have the power to bring the ‘Evil Eye’ upon anyone who crosses them. They offer people forbidden fruits and promises of love and riches.

However, between noon and one of the afternoon, legends say that the Nanny Diamonds can be bribed into granting wishes. One must hide a silver coin among the nooks and crannies in the dry stone walls on either side of the road.

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Beware of Using Images from Google Searches

Posted on August 15, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

Recently, author Roni Loren shared her unfortunate experience of being sued for using copyrighted photos in a blog, pictures she had found on a Google search and pictures she had thought would be acceptable if she added to a personal, not-for-profit blog, on which she included a “I don’t claim to own this picture” disclaimer. Unfortunately,  because the law was n his side, the photographer won. This is a lesson from which we all can learn. Be careful what pictures you add to your blogs! (With her permission, I have linked this blurb to Roni Loren’s blog and the complete story.)

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The Nomenclature of Nineteenth Century Address

Posted on August 14, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

How did one keep all those numerous titles straight when he addressed the members of the aristocracy and the titled?

Here are some of the MANY differences of which one needed to be aware:

“Lady” – used for the wife of a baronet or a knight (i.e., Sir Thomas Bertram’s wife in Mansfield Park is Lady Bertram)

“Lady” – used for a marchioness, countess, viscountess, or baroness (i.e., the wife of Viscount Lexford became Lady Lexford)

“Sir” – used for a baronet or a knight with his first name (i.e., Sir Thomas Bertram or Sir Walter Elliot from Persuasion)

“Baron” – used for a judge of the Exchequer Court or for a baron of the peerage upon formal occasions

“Lord” – used for an earl, marquis, or viscount – usually this was the title the man possessed (for example, the Earl of Linworth became Lord Linworth); barons were rarely spoken of as Baron Ashworth; instead, the man would be Lord Ashworth

“My Lord” – used for a peer below the rank of duke and to a bishop of the Church of England

“My Lord” – used for a lord mayor and judges of the King’s Bench and Common Pleas court

“Your Grace” – to a duke or duchess if the person making the address were below the gentry; the title is also used for an archbishop of the Church of England

“Duke” or “Duchess” – used for a duke or duchess and used by a member of the nobility or gentry

“Your Highness” – used for the nephews, nieces, and cousins of the ruling monarch/sovereign

“Your Royal Highness” – used for the monarch/sovereign’s spouse, children, and siblings

“Your Majesty” – used for the king or queen

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“Dancing” in Austen’s Novels

Posted on August 13, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

I won’t dance; don’t ask me…

“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.” (Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 3) During Austen’s time, young people looked for a potential mate at dances. Austen, herself, enjoyed a good dance, and, therefore, she often used dance as part of her plot line. In a 1798 letter to her sister Cassandra, Austen wrote, “There were twenty Dances & I danced them all, & without any fatigue.” Dancing well was a “necessary evil.” Those who trod on their partners toes (i.e., Mr. Collins) were seen as gauche. Children of the gentry learned the latest dance steps early on.

Public balls or assemblies and private balls formed the two types of formal dances. Assemblies took place in large ballrooms in market towns and cities. They were constructed for the purpose of public gatherings. One might also hold a dance in the ballrooms at country inns (as in the Crown Inn inEmma) or in formal ballrooms in large houses (as in the Netherfield Ball in Pride and Prejudice or Sir Thomas’s ball in Mansfield Park).

Occasionally, the gentry would roll up the rugs for an impromptu dance. These were more characteristic of country life.

Characters discussing “dancing” and participating in “dance” occurs often in Austen’s story lines. FromPride and Prejudice, we find, “Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances…” (and) “Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.” (as well as) “She had known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton…”

“Every stranger can dance.” Sir William only smiled. (and)

“You would not wish to be dancing when she is ill.” (and)

“…and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. Wickham…” In fact, Austen uses “dance” eight and sixty times during the story line.

From Persuasion, the reader finds these references to “dancing.” 

“The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings ended, occasionally, in an unpremeditated little ball.” (and) “This evening ended with dancing.” (as well as) “Oh, no; she has quite given up dancing.” (and)

“Yes, I believe I do; very much recovered; but she is altered; there is no running or jumping about, no laughing or dancing…” There are ten references to dance in Persuasion.

The reader comes across nine and forty mentions of the word “dance” in Mansfield Park. We have such gems as, “…for it was while all the other young people were dancing, and she sitting, most unwillingly, among the chaperones at the fire…” (and) “…been a very happy one to Fanny through four dances, and she was quite grieved to be losing even a quarter of an hour.” (as well as) “…but instead of asking her to dance, drew a chair near her, and gave her an account of the present state of a sick horse…” (and) “I should like to go to a ball with you and see you dance. Have you never any balls at Northampton? I should like to see you dance, and I’d dance with you if you would, for nobody would know who I was, and I should like to be your partner once more.”

“Dancing” is mentioned nine and sixty times in Emma. “She was in dancing, singing, exclaiming spirits…” (and) “She had suffered very much from a cramp from dancing, and her first attempt to mount the bank brought on such a return of it as made her absolutely powerless…” (and) “Indeed I will. You have shewn that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper.” (as well as) “Pleasure in seeing dancing! – not I, indeed – I never look at it – I do not know who does. Fine dancing, I believe, like virtue, must be its own reward.” 

From Love and Friendship, one finds, “The Dancing, however, was not begun as they waited for Mis Greville.” (and) “I soon forgot all my vexations in the pleasure of dancing and of having the most agreeable partner in the room.” (as well as) “I can neither sing so well nor Dance so gracefully as I once did.” There are ten references to “dance” in Love and Friendship. 

One and twenty references to “dance” appear in Sense and Sensibility. They include: “In the country, an unpremeditated dance was very allowable…” (and) “Never had Marianne been so unwilling to dance in her life…” (and) “They speedily discovered that their enjoyment of dancing and music was mutual…”

Seven and sixty uses of “dance” can be found inNorthanger Abbey. One can find, “He wants me to dance with him again, though I tell him that it s a most improper thing, and entirely against the rules.” (and) “Oh, no; I am much obliged to you, our two dances are over; and, besides, I am tired, and do not mean to dance any more.”

My favorite quote regarding dancing comes fromNorthanger Abbey. In it, Henry Tilney makes a comparison between “dancing” and “matrimony.” He says, “…that in both, it is an engagement between man and woman, formed for the advantage of each; and that when once entered into, they belong exclusively to each other till the moment of its dissolution; that it is their duty, each to endeavor to give the other no cause for wishing that he or she had bestowed themselves elsewhere, and their best interest to keep their own imaginations from wandering towards the perfections of their neighbours, or fancying that they should have been better off with any one else.”

 

So, what are your favorite scenes in Austen’s novels that are associated with dancing? In November at Austen Authors (http://austenauthors.net), we will celebrate the 200thAnniversary of the Netherfield Ball. Are there other poignant Austen moments centering around dance? Please share your favorite scenes with all of us.

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Dorset’s Cerne Abbas Giant and Fertility Legends

Posted on August 10, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

The Cerne Abbas Giant is a quirky figure carved out on Trendle Hill in Dorset, UK. Some 180 feet tall, the naked “Giant” holds a club aloft in his right hand. How he came to be resting on this hillside is a local mystery.

Cerne Abbas is a tourist village with many attractions, including the river, streets lined with stone houses and the Cerne Abbey. The church of St Mary is of 13th century origin but was largely rebuilt in the 15th and early 16th centuries and partly reconstructed in the 17th century. Features of interest include the 17th century pulpit and the great east window, which probably came from the abbey. In 2008, Cerne Abbas was voted Britain’s “Most Desirable Village.”

The most famous attraction is the Cerne Abbas Giant,  a 55 metre (180 ft) naked figure carved into the chalk hillside. The giant, owned by the National Trust, is thought by many to be an Iron Age fertility symbol but, as it is unlikely that the monks of Cerne Abbey would have tolerated such a figure, and with no records before the 17th century, this cannot be confirmed. Many scholars now think that it was created in the mid-17th century, although there is evidence of Iron Age settlement on the downs nearby.

One legend associated with the Giant is he represents a real-life giant who terrorized Cerne by killing livestock and even children. Reportedly, one day as the giant lay sleeping on the hillside, the villagers killed him. Afterwards, they cut out his outline in the chalk downlands.

Historians have claimed that the Giant is Cernunnos or Hercules or Gogmagog. However, as the Giant predates Roman occupation of England, the figure is likely a Celtic Fertility God.

Legend says that if a woman sat on the figure’s penis that it would cure her infertility. Other versions of the tale say the woman must spend a night laying on the figure during a new moon to cure her barrenness. Some say that the couple must have sexual intercourse while lying upon the outlined figure.

As crazy as these tales sound, in 1958, the Marquis of Bath and his wife Virginia visited the site. Having unsuccessfully tried to have a child for five years, the couple chose to lie on the Giant. Ten months later, their daughter was born. In tribute, the Marquis named the child Silvy Cerne. She is now Lady Silvy Cerne McQuiston. The Marquis even listed the “G. Cerne” as the child’s godfather on her baptismal papers. The family made an annual pilgrimage to the Giant.

Mr and Mrs Thorne of Puddletown were blessed by a white witch and performed an “active” romp upon the Giant’s form in 1998. Nine months later, Mrs Thorne delivered up a healthy boy.

Unfortunately, the National Trust, which owns the form and area surrounding it, have erected a protective fence around the site. They fear that too many such “expeditions” by desperate couples could erode away the Giant’s chalk form.

The Wessex Morris Men perform Morris dancing above the Giant every May Day at sunrise 5:28 A.M.

_____________________

For an article on the fertility boom in the area, visit The Telegraph.

Posted in British history, gothic and paranormal, legends and myths | 2 Comments

A Lesson on Victorian Prison Reform

Posted on August 9, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

Bexhill Crouch Prison

Victorians were worried about the rising crime rate: offences went up from about 5,000 per year in 1800 to about 20,000 per year in 1840. They were firm believers in punishment for criminals, but faced a problem: what should the punishment be?

There were prisons, but they were mostly small, old and badly-run. Common punishments included transportation – sending the offender to America, Australia or Van Diemens Land (Tasmania), or execution – hundreds of offences carried the death penalty.

By the 1830s people were having doubts about both these punishments. The answer was prison: lots of new prisons were built and old ones extended.

One of the areas often looked at when states and local governments attempt to balance their budgets is the cost of maintaining prisons and jails. Recently, a national news source told of how one jail had prisoners clipping coupons for Swanson dinners. The jail would place an order with the local supermarket and use the coupons to reduce the cost of feeding the prisoners.

Such reforms can find their roots in great Victorian obsession to economize public expenditures. The idea of one prisoner per cell was actually an American innovation – the belief being that the prisoner, if kept in isolation, would know remorse for his crimes. In 1842, such a prison was built in Pentonville, Pennsylvania. Within six years, 54 prisons followed suit.

In Bath, England, a new Bath City Gaol was built at Twerton. The estimated cost of the gaol was £18,650, with the funds to build the gaol supported by local investors. The gaol was designed to hold 20 male debtors, 12 female debtors, 10 prisoners in the Infirmary, and 80 prisoners in separate cells.

Photograph, court yard of Wormwood Scrubs Prison, groups of prisoners pulling carts. (COPY 1/420 f.180)

The cells were 13 feet x 7 feet x 9 feet, and each contained a W.C. Besides separate cells, there were separate yards and separate sheds for working, as well as separate stalls in the chapel so the prisoner could only look upon the chaplain and not other prisoners.

Mr. Pike, the Turnkey of the Old Gaol on Grove Street, was given the position of Governor of the New Gaol at a salary of £100 per annum, plus £20 for his wife acting as Matron.

Fifteen years later, Mr. Perry, the Inspector of Prisons, set upon an inquiry into the running of the Bath City Gaol. The Pikes were charged with using prisoners as laborers about their home: tending the farm animals, working in the garden, doing housework, etc. Mrs. Pike allowed a prisoner named Amelia Hall to meet with her family and friends in the Governor’s house.

A breach of contract between Her Majesty’s Government and the Bath Town Council occurred over the supply of leather required for the manufacture of shoes by the convicts. Accounts were altered in the Governor’s favor. Some 12-18 pairs of shoes were made for Pike’s family members rather than for the prisoners over a two year period.

Needless to say, Pike was relieved of his duties. The management of the gaol was placed under the control of the Visiting Justices. The experiment of prison reform in Bath (financed by private capital; contracts for materials by competitive tender; subject to minimal accountability) does not lend itself well to the idea of the privatization of prisons.

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We Get Stacks and Stacks of Letters…

Posted on August 8, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

On the Perry Como Show, the chorus used to sing: “Letters, we get letters. We get stacks and stacks of letters.” However, during the Regency Period, the mail was expensive. MPs were the only ones who had a “free” ride for the mail delivery. Until 1840, MPs could “frank” their own letters.

In Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park, Edmund tells Fanny to have a friend or relative who was an MP to frank the letter for her and, therefore, save the Price family from the cost of the letter. “As your uncle will frank it, it will cost William nothing.”

Postage was based on the number of miles the letter traveled from point A to point B. Recipients paid, rather than the sender of the letter. These were the going rates for a single page: fourpence for the first fifteen miles, eightpence for eighty miles, etc., etc., up to seventeen pence for a letter covering seven hundred miles. Additional pages increased the price accordingly.

To save on the expense of sending a letter, people developed their own form of “Tweeting.” Abbreviations saved space. Often the writer would “cross” the letter, which meant turning the letter at right angles and writing between the previously written words.

A “two penny post,” which was developed for mail delivery within London proper, was separate from the General Post Office, which dealt with the national mail. There were designated shops for dropping off the mail.  As with the writing of the letter, abbreviations were used as part of the address/directions to speed the delivery: “W” for the West End; “N” for north of the Old City, etc.

After 1840, a person could send a letter anywhere in England for the cost of one penny. Railroads sped the delivery system and made the mail service more economical. Also, before 1840 envelopes were generally not used. In Jane Austen’s stories, her characters use a wafer to seal the letters. A wafer was small disk made of flour and gum. A person would lick the wafer and stick it to the folded sheet of writing to form the envelope. Those of the upper class used seals. It was melted and applied to the letter. Commonly, red seals were used for business and other colors for social correspondence. Black was a sign of death and mourning. 

Posted in British history, Jane Austen, Regency era | 3 Comments

The Peerage

Posted on August 7, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

If one reads Regency romance, he encounters his fair share of England’s titled gentlemen, often referred to as the “peerage.” In order of rank, one finds dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, and barons. Baronets and knights were NOT peers. The House of Lords were made up of those of the first rank, along with the bishops and the archbishops of the Church of England.

The title and the landed estates associated with the peerage were always inherited. “Life peerages” were created in the late 1800s, but, generally, without exception, the title passed to the eldest son. If the heir left a male child, the child would inherit if his father had passed before inheriting. If the child had died or there were no issue from the marriage, a brother could inherit. The male line of direct descent from the first holder of the title was always maintained. Even if the only male available was from a junior or “cadet” branch of the original family, he would inherit the title and the manor. Originally, titles were presented with “letters of patent” as a symbol of the presentation. The person with the oldest “patent” held rank over others of the same title.

As the estates became more and more problematic to maintain, many of the peers were forced to look beyond those with strong ancestral lines for mates. A woman from trade or of inferior lines could often marry into the peerage if she possessed a large enough fortune. Besides the expensive way of life that a titled gentleman was forced to uphold, the cost of maintaining the entailed property was often exorbitant. Marrying for love was not an option. A marriage of convenience often meant the titled gentleman must marry for the lady’s money. The man’s wife received the female equivalent of his title: duke/duchess; viscount/viscountess; earl/countess; etc. However, if an untitled gentleman married a titled lady, she relinquished her formal address to become a “Mrs.” In addressing a titled gentleman, he might have an accumulation of titles, such as Baron Joe, Viscount Smoe, and the Earl of Doe.


A British or Irish Duke is entitled to a coronet (a silver-gilt circlet, chased as jewelled but not actually gemmed) bearing eight conventional strawberry leaves on the rim of the circlet. The physical coronet is worn only at coronations. Any peer can bear his coronet of rank on his coat of arms above the shield.

So, how did one become a member of the peerage? Generally speaking, the title and land was bestowed upon a man for his loyalty and service to the monarchy. The prime minister in power, at the time, granted the power. Occasionally, military heroes (i.e., the Duke of Wellington) and lord chancellors were given titles. Rarely were commoners presented a title. If a commoner had no children (therefore, the title would die out with him), a title might be possible for extraordinary service. With each generation, only one child (the male heir) was given the title. The other children were “commoners.” Recently minted peers were not well received by the other members of the aristocracy.

Below the peerage were the baronets and knights, who were addressed as “Sir.” A baronetage was hereditary, but baronets were not peers, and they did not sit in the House of “Lords.” Baronets were the upper levels of the gentry. They might sit in the House of Commons, but this was not part of the title. Knighthoods were not hereditary. Distinguished lawyers and doctors and brewers became baronets, while those in trade were bestowed with the “Sir” of a knighthood.

A Royal Duke is a duke who is a member of the British Royal Family, entitled to the style of “His Royal Highness.” The current Royal Dukedoms are, in order of precedence:

▪                Edinburgh, held by The Prince Philip

▪                Cornwall (England) and Rothesay (Scotland), held by The Prince Charles, Prince of Wales

▪                Cambridge, held by Prince William

▪                York, held by The Prince Andrew

▪                Gloucester, held by Prince Richard

▪                Kent, held by Prince Edward

With the exceptions of the dukedoms of Cornwall and Rothesay, which can only be held by the eldest son of the Sovereign, royal dukedoms are hereditary, according to the terms of the Letters Patent that created them, which usually contain the standard remainder to the “heirs male of his body.” The British monarch also holds and is entitled to the revenues of the Duchy of Lancaster, and within the borders of the County Palatine of Lancashire is by tradition saluted as “The Duke of Lancaster.” Even when the monarch is a Queen regnant, she does not use the title of Duchess.

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The Life of the Gentry During the Regency Period

Posted on August 6, 2012 by Regina Jeffers

Caroline of Brunswick

During the Regency Period, wealth and social class separated the English citizenry. Beginning with the Royals, citizens found their place based on birthright and wealth. The nobility stood above the gentry, who stood above the clergy, who stood above the working class, etc. As part of the gentry, Jane’s family held certain privileges, but also lacked political power. Although he was a rector, the Reverend George Austen was a gentleman. Austen’s novels are populated with those of the gentry. Occasionally, her readers encounter the nobility, as in Lady Catherine De Bourgh and the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple or the clergy as with Mr. Collins or Mr. Elton.

To be part of the landed gentry, the family had to own 300+ acres of property. The Reverend George Austen was part of the gentry, but he came from the lower end of the class distinction, while Jane’s mother came from a wealthier background. When one reads Austen, he meets the gentry. A member of the gentry was known as a gentleman, but not all members of the gentry acted as a gentleman. 

Good manners defined a person during the era. Loosely based on Renaissance Italy and 17th Century French customs, the “rules” of engagement during the Regency Period were strictly enforced by members of the “ton.” One who did not adhere to the rules would be shunned by Society.

A gentleman, for example, was expected to speak properly and to avoid vulgarity; to be dressed appropriately; to be able to dance well; to be well versed on a variety of subjects and to have a university education or above; and to practice condescion to those of a lower class.

When addressing women the eldest daughter in a family would be referred to as “Miss” + her last name (i.e, Miss Elliot or Miss Bennet). Youngest sisters would be “Miss” + the woman’s given name (i.e, Miss Anne or Miss Elizabeth). Addressing males followed a similar form. The eldest son was “Mister” + last name (i.e, Mr. Ferras or Mr. Wentworth). The younger sons used both given name and surname (i.e., Mr. Robert Ferras or Mr. Frederick Wentworth).

People of lower rank had to wait to be introduced to someone of a higher rank. (Do you recall Catherine Morland and Mrs. Allen at Bath? They must wait for an introduction to Henry Tilney, who calls upon the evening’s master of ceremonies to do the deed.) Women of the period were to be obedient to their fathers and husbands, docile and without opinions, have refined qualities, and attendant to their families. Education was not a prerequisite for women. In Austen’s stories, her heroines often shun these qualities. 

Posted in British history, Jane Austen, Regency era | 2 Comments