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The Duchess of Richmond’s Ball and the Battle of Waterloo, a Guest Post from Jann Rowland

Posted on June 15, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

On June 15, 1815, perhaps the most famous (or infamous) ball in history was held. The Duchess of Richmond’s ball is generally regarded as the event in which Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, was informed of the advance of French forces into the kingdom of the Netherlands. This is somewhat accurate.

In March of 1815, Napoleon Bonaparte escaped Elba and landed in France, quickly assuming control of the Empire of France from Louis XVIII, setting off the Hundred Days campaign. The nations of Europe, quickly mobilized against him, with the British and the Prussians fielding armies in the Netherlands, while the Russians, Austrians, and several Germanic Princedoms marched to support them. Thus, outnumbered and facing enemies on potentially three sides, Napoleon knew his only chance was to defeat the coalition armies separately before they could assemble against him.

The allies had set the date of their invasion of France for July 1, but it was considered possible (perhaps even likely, given the reputation of the French Emperor) the French would attack first. The Duchess of Richmond, whose husband was the commander of British forces defending Brussels, had planned some weeks earlier to host a ball. When rumors of French advances began to run through the city, she asked Wellington if the ball should be canceled his response was: “Duchess, you may give your ball with the greatest safety, without fear of interruption.” Thus, the ball was held as scheduled, the most likely location being a coach house attached to the house the Lennox family was leasing in Brussels.

When the first circles of Brussels society gathered that night, the main topic of discussion was, of course, the rumored impending invasion. Even with so desperate a subject on the tongues of those who attended, however, by all accounts the ball proceeded smoothly. Wellington and his commanders arrived at about 11 PM that evening, and it was said that “with the exception of three generals, every officer high in [Wellington’s] army was there to be seen.”

But Wellington had allowed the ball to go on that evening in an attempt to confirm that all was well and proceeding as planned. In reality, he had received word earlier that day that the French army had crossed the Belgian frontier and was engaging the British allies, the Prussian army, to the east. Wellington put the entire British army on alert. But he was still unaware of the speed of the French advance and the location of the attack and did not order his army to mass just yet.

Just before dinner, a dispatch arrived for William, Prince of Orange, commander of the Dutch-Belgian army. The prince handed Wellington the missive, who put it in his pocket and continued on as if nothing had happened. When he read the note twenty minutes later, he ordered William back to his command post and went into supper. To his surprise, William returned only a short time later with word that the French had pushed much further than expected.

By now rumors were flying through the ballroom. Wellington orders both William and the Duke or Brunswick back to their command posts, though he, himself stayed for another twenty minutes. Then he announced his intention to retire. Before he left the room, however, he whispered in Duke of Richmond’s ear, asking if he had a good map. The two men left the room, going to Richmond’s study, where Wellington surveyed the potential battlefields. The French had pushed far enough into the Belgian countryside that they now threatened Quatre Bras, and Wellington, knowing he would not be able to mobilize his army in time to stop them there, exclaimed: “Napoleon has humbugged me, by God; he has gained twenty-four hours’ march on me.” As he surveyed the map, he fixed his gaze on Waterloo and allowed his finger to fall in the name as the place where the British would stop the French.

By now the ball was all but over. Officers were pulled from the ballroom and given orders to return to their units, and many did so without even changing back into their uniforms, fighting in their suits and dancing shoes. Those who bade them farewell weeping with fear for those who were going into danger, knowing not all of them would return. The city soon became a bustle of movement as the regiments departed for the front and the battle against the invading French.

The next day, both the Battle of Quatre Bras and the Battle of Liege were fought. Quatre Bras was a victory for the British as they denied Napoleon the crossroads and his strategic objective of driving a wedge between the two allied armies. Liege was a victory for Napoleon, but he was not able to destroy the Prussians. The British, by Wellington’s design, fell back to Waterloo and linked up with the Prussian army. Two days later, the final battle of the Napoleonic wars was fought at Waterloo, and the French were defeated, ending Napoleon’s power forever.

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The Battle of Waterloo: Did the Weather Change History?

Posted on June 13, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

French cuirassiers charging a British infantry square at the Battle of Waterloo, 1815 (1906). From Cassell’s Illustrated History of England, Vol. V. (Cassell and Company, Limited, London, Paris, New York & Melbourne, 1906). Artist P Jazet.(Photo by The Print Collector/Getty Images)

The Battle of Waterloo: Did the Weather Change History? Background: The Battle of Waterloo was fought thirteen kilometers south of Brussels between the French, under the command of Napoleon Bonaparte, and the Allied armies commanded by the Duke of Wellington from Britain and the 72-year-old General Blücher from Prussia. The French defeat at Waterloo drew to a close 23 years of war beginning with the French Revolutionary wars in 1792 and continuing through the Napoleonic Wars. There was a brief eleven-month respite when Napoleon was forced to abdicate, exiled to the island of Elba. However, the unpopularity of Louis XVIII and the economic and social instability of France motivated Napoleon’s return to Paris in March 1815. The Allies soon declared war once again. Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo marked the end of the Emperor’s final bid for power, the so-called ‘100 Days,’ and the final chapter in his remarkable career.

Why did Napoleon lose? Wellington described his victory as a ‘damned near-run thing.’ The battle was closely fought, and either side could have won, but mistakes in communication, leadership, and judgment led, ultimately, to the French defeat.

Communication was key. The fastest way to communicate was by sending messages with horseback riders, but this created a delay in instructions being carried out, and there was a high chance of the messages being intercepted and never arriving. Given the numbers of troops involved and the distances involved, potentially fatal results could easily occur if communications failed, and Napoleon did not have any system in place to ensure that the orders had been received.

In his choice of leaders, Napoleon’s judgment was poor. Marshal Grouchy was said to be a great General, but he was out of his depth in this battle. He showed little initiative and was tardy in his pursuit of the Prussians, giving them time to regroup. Ney also proved unreliable as a leader, failing to take advantage of his situation in the precursory battle at Quatre-Bras and then in leading the cavalry, unsupported by infantry and artillery, at Waterloo.

The Battle of Waterloo took the lives of 47,000 soldiers and occurred in an area as small as 6.5 km by 3.5 km.

For an hour by hour breakdown of the battle’s events, visit BBC History (http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/empire_seapower/battle_waterloo_01.shtml). And, of course, the Waterloo 1815 website has magnificent details (http://www.napoleon-battles.com/).

Napoleon Bonaparte flees the field of Waterloo, June 18, 1815.

One of the elements outside Napoleon’s direct control, but one that brought about many of his woes was the weather from June 16-18, 1815. Both the French and the Allies experienced the same conditions, and the blame for the loss most likely can be attributed to the fact that Napoleon’s arrogance and inflated self-confidence stood in the way of reason.

The area around Waterloo experienced heavy rains on June 17 and the morning of the 18^th. Some military strategists suggest that the soaked ground might have delayed the battle and would have given the Prussian army the time to join forces with Wellington. One must remember that even Victor Hugo spoke of the influence of weather on the battle’s outcome. In chapter 3 of Les Misérables, the commentator says, “If it had not rained in the night between the 17th and the 18th of June, 1815, the fate of Europe would have been different. A few drops of water, more or less, decided the downfall of Napoleon. All that Providence required in order to make Waterloo the end of Austerlitz was a little more rain, and a cloud traversing the sky out of season sufficed to make a world crumble.”

Dennis Wheeler and Gaston Demarée’s article, “The weather of the Waterloo campaign 16 to 18 1815,” cites several passages from those who experienced the battle firsthand.

From the letters of Private William Wheeler of the 51^st Kings Infantry comes this excerpt, “…[a]nd as it began to rain the road soon became very heavy…the rain increased, the thunder and lightning approached nearer, and with it came the enemy…the rain beating with violence, the guns roaring, repeated bright flashes of lightning attended with tremendous volleys of Thunder that shook the very earth…”

And Private John Lewis of the 95^th Rifles wrote home to say, “…[t]he rain fell so hard that the oldest soldiers there never saw the like…”

Napoleon planned to attack at 8 A.M., but some experts estimate that it was closer to eleven before he struck. Besides the soft ground slowing the progress of Napoleon’s heavy artillery, one must take into consideration the concept that cannon shot was designed to fall short of the target and then skip along the ground for the most damage. In muddy conditions, the weapon’s effectiveness was compromised. The cavalry could not move forward easily. Captain Cotter of the South Lincolnshire regiment wrote of, “…[m]ud through which we sank more than ankle deep….” The cavalry charge was reduced from a gallop to a canter. A damp mist rose and mixed with the guns’ smoke. However, the winds did not carry away the “veritable fog of war.”

Finally, the French infantry advancing towards the Anglo-Dutch lines reportedly crossed through fields of wet rye. Muskets and rifles loaded prior to the march would likely misfire because of damp powder. Napoleon’s assault would have suffered more than would have Wellington’s defensive lines under such conditions.

An article in the Evening Standard suggests that a volcanic eruption in Indonesia changed the climate and provided Wellington the advantage. We know the year 1816 was called “The Year Without Summer.”

“A volcanic eruption in Indonesia contributed to Napoleon Bonaparte’s downfall at the Battle of Waterloo, scientists have claimed. New evidence suggests electrically-charged volcanic ash altered the Earth’s weather in 1815, causing a June downpour of heavy rain across Europe. The wet and muddy conditions played a key role in the French emperor’s defeat at Waterloo, an event that changed the course of European history. Two months before the battle, the volcano Mount Tambora erupted on the Indonesian island of Sumbawa, killing 100,000 people and sending huge amounts of ash 62 miles into the atmosphere. Electrified ash “short circuited” the ionosphere, the upper atmospheric layer responsible for cloud formation, the new research has shown. The resulting “pulse” of cloud formation led to heavy rain across Europe, according to lead scientist Dr Matthew Genge, from Imperial College London . . .”

Dr Genge said: “Victor Hugo in the novel Les Miserables said of the Battle of Waterloo: ‘an unseasonably clouded sky sufficed to bring about the collapse of a world’.

Great Historical Events That Were Significantly Affected by the Weather. Part 11: Meteorological Aspects of the Battle of Waterloo

The American Meteorological Society tells us, “The weather had important effects on the battles. On the 16th, in a battle between part of the French army and part of the Prussian army, at the village of Ligny, about 40 km south-southeast of Brussels, thunderstorms connected with the passage of the aforementioned warm front made the use of muskets impracticable.

“However, the most important weather effects developed on the 17th and during the night from the 17th to the 18th. Violent thunderstorms occurred early in the afternoon of the 17th close to Ligny, while Napoleon was in the process of attacking the Anglo–Dutch force at Quatre Bras. The rains turned the ground into a quagmire, making it impossible for the French artillery and cavalry, and even for the infantry, to move across the fields in extended order, as required by the emperor. The French advance was so greatly slowed down that Wellington was able to withdraw his lighter force to a better position near Waterloo. Thus, the Anglo–Dutch force was almost completely preserved for the decisive battle of the next day.

“The rain showers of the 17th and the night from the 17th to the 18th softened the ground to an extent that, on the morning of the 18th, Napoleon and his artillery experts judged that the battle—the Battle of Waterloo—could not be started before a late hour of the forenoon [1130 local standard time (LST)]. Until the arrival of the Prussian force, about 1600 LST and later, the battle tended to go in favor of the French, but the Prussians turned the tide of the fighting.

“The paper quotes judgments of military historians on the significant effects of the weather. Some historians believe that, had Napoleon been able to begin the attack earlier on the 18th, the battle would have ended in a French victory.”

An engraved vintage illustration image of the Duke of Wellington with his army at the Battle of Waterloo, from a Victorian book dated 1886 that is no longer in copyright

Posted in British history, Georgian England, Georgian Era, history, Living in the Regency, military, Napoleonic Wars, real life tales, Regency era, world history | Tagged British history, Georgian Era, military, Napoleon, Quatre-Bras, Regency Era, the Duke of Wellington, war, Waterloo, weather | 7 Comments

The Advancements in Agriculture During the Regency

Posted on June 10, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

The British Agricultural Revolution, or Second Agricultural Revolution, was an unprecedented increase in agricultural production in Britain arising from increases in labour and land productivity between the mid-17th and late 19th centuries. Agricultural output grew faster than the population over the hundred-year period ending in 1770, and thereafter productivity remained among the highest in the world. This increase in the food supply contributed to the rapid growth of population in England and Wales, from 5.5 million in 1700 to over 9 million by 1801, though domestic production gave way increasingly to food imports in the nineteenth century as the population more than tripled to over 35 million. (Richards, Denis; Hunt, J.W. (1983). An Illustrated History of Modern Britain: 1783–1980 (3rd ed.). Hong Kong: Longman Group UK LTD. p. 7)

For many years the agricultural revolution in England was thought to have occurred because of three major changes: the selective breeding of livestock; the removal of common property rights to land; and new systems of cropping, involving turnips and clover. All this was thought to have been due to a group of heroic individuals, who, according to one account, are ‘a band of men whose names are, or ought to be, household words with English farmers: Jethro Tull, Lord Townshend, Arthur Young, Bakewell, Coke of Holkham and the Collings.’ Most of these “tall tales” have been debunked, but there is some basis for the stories.

There is some belief that if agriculture could have sustained the population growth of the Roman period and again around 1650, the English countryside would have looked quite different. But it did not. It was not until after 1750, when the English population was accounted to be nearly 6 million strong that the need for agricultural reform took hold. Agriculture had to “keep up” with the need to feed more and more and more people. A hundred years later, in 1850, the population was pushing 17 million.

Agriculture was going through a renaissance at that time.

There was an Agricultural board that put out an annual State of Agriculture. Many almanacks had plans for when to plant what and when to harvest.

The introduction of the four crop rotation led to better use of the land. The concept is simply. Instead of leaving a field fallow, it was planted with turnips or with clover, both of which brought nutrients to the soil.

One of the most important innovations of the British Agricultural Revolution was the development of the Norfolk four-course rotation, which greatly increased crop and livestock yields by improving soil fertility and reducing fallow.^[6]

Crop rotation is the practice of growing a series of dissimilar types of crops in the same area in sequential seasons to help restore plant nutrients and mitigate the build-up of pathogens and pests that often occurs when one plant species is continuously cropped. Rotation can also improve soil structure and fertility by alternating deep-rooted and shallow-rooted plants. Turnip roots, for example, can recover nutrients from deep under the soil. The Norfolk four-course system, as it is now known, rotates crops so that different crops are planted with the result that different kinds and quantities of nutrients are taken from the soil as the plants grow. An important feature of the Norfolk four-field system was that it used labour at times when demand was not at peak levels. Unlike earlier methods such as the three-field system, the Norfolk system is marked by an absence of a fallow year. Instead, four different crops are grown in each year of a four-year cycle: wheat, turnips, barley, and clover or undergrass. (“Norfolk four-course system”. Encyclopædia Britannica.)

There was also a push to reclaim land, especially in eastern England, where from the 17th Century onward, where the fenlands were drained. Woodlands and upland pastures were also cleared.

In addition, the idea of farming crops in rows was still pretty new. Traditionally, crops like wheat were sowed in the broadcast fashion (flinging seeds out into the field, so they take root or not wherever they land). The Tullian method was to plant in rows, on mounds, at regular intervals, with the space between rows being hoed or plowed throughout the season. Dibbling was a planting method in which one crop is planted between rows of a different crop (wheat between rows of turnips, for example).

Other points of interest in the “Agricultural Revolution” include:

The Dutch improved the Chinese plough so that it could be pulled with fewer oxen or horses.
Enclosure: the removal of common rights to establish exclusive ownership of land – For many enclosure was the most meaningful innovation of the agricultural revolution.
Development of a national market free of tariffs, tolls and customs barriers
Transportation infrastructures, such as improved roads, canals, and later, railways
Increase in farm size
Selective breeding

If one wants a quick look at farming during the era, I might suggest A History of Everyday Things in England, Part III (1733-1851) by Marjorie and C.H.B. Quennell. There is one chapter on the 18th Century and another on the 19th Century. It also examines the economic and political forces at work that affected the wages and livelihoods of farmers. Although copies are difficult to find, they are well worth the price.

The Dutch acquired the iron-tipped, curved mouldboard, adjustable depth plough from the Chinese in the early 17th century. This plough only required a pair of oxen to drag it through the earth as opposed to the 6 to 8 of the European model. The Dutch brought the plow to England when they were contracted to drain the fens and the moors to create more land for farming. Joseph Foljambe and others improved on the model. Its fittings and coulter were made of iron and moulboard and share were covered with an iron plate, making it even easier to pull. Foljambe made the ploughs in a factory in Rotherham, England, creating interchangeable parts for when something broke, so the farmer did not need to replace the whole plough. Many a blacksmith could replicate the broken parts in his smithy.

In Europe, from the Middle Ages onward, the practice of open fields had been commonplace. In this system subsistence farmers used strips of land in large fields for their own personal use. The foodstuffs produced were divided among all those using the field. Typically, these fields were owned by the aristocracy, or, early on, by the Catholic Church. The process of enclosing property accelerated in the 15th and 16th centuries. The more productive enclosed farms meant that fewer farmers were needed to work the same land, leaving many villagers without land and grazing rights. Many of them moved to the cities in search of work in the factories.

The commons were enclosed by a private act of parliament and the land turned into profitable farming or for sheep. This helped increase the profits of the landowner but prepossessed many common laborers who had managed a decent living using the commons as a pasture.

As to advancements in what came to be known as selective breeding, one must turn to the efforts of Robert Bakewell and Thomas Coke. The idea was to mate two different animals for their desirable characteristics and to stabilize certain qualities in order to reduce genetic diversity in desirable animal programs from the mid-18th century. Arguably, Bakewell’s most important breeding program was with sheep. Using native stock, he was able to quickly select for large, yet fine-boned sheep, with long, lustrous wool. Bakewell was also the first to breed cattle to be used primarily for beef. Previously, cattle were first and foremost kept for pulling ploughs as oxen or for dairy uses, with beef from surplus males as an additional bonus, but he crossed long-horned heifers and a Westmoreland bull to create the Dishley Longhorn.

Unfortunately, the Agricultural Revolution in Britain proved to be a major turning point in history, allowing the population to far exceed earlier peaks and sustain the country’s rise to industrial pre-eminence. Towards the end of the 19th century, the substantial gains in British agricultural productivity were rapidly offset by competition from cheaper imports, made possible by the exploitation of new lands and advances in transportation, refrigeration, and other technologies.

Posted in British history, customs and tradiitons, estates, food, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Industrial Revolution, inventions, real life tales, Regency era | Tagged agriculture, British history, food, Georgian Era, industrialization, inventions, land, land use, Regency Era | 1 Comment

It is June, and Love Is in the Air

Posted on June 6, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

I am repeating a post from 2015, but I have expanded it. Heck, it is about two of my favorite things: Movies and The Spoken Word. Enjoy!

A couple of my lady friends and I shared a laugh filled lunch and tons of gossip. Being good friends they asked of my newest novels. I bemoaned the task of coming up with another way for the couples in my books to profess their love. That led us to some of our favorite love quotes from the movies. What do you think of these?

You must know…surely, you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I’d scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you; you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on. (Pride and Prejudice 2005)

I promise you forever, every single day of forever. (Twilight)

Dear Holly, I don’t have much time. I don’t mean literally, I mean you’re out buying ice cream and you’ll be home soon. But I have a feeling this is the last letter, because there is only one thing left to tell you. It isn’t to go down memory lane or make you buy a lamp, you can take care of yourself without any help from me. It’s to tell you how much you move me, how you changed me. You made me a man, by loving me Holly. And for that, I am eternally grateful…literally. If you can promise me anything, promise me that whenever you’re sad, or unsure, or you lose complete faith, that you’ll try and see yourself through my eyes. Thank you for the honor of being my wife. I’m a man with no regrets. How lucky am I. You made my life, Holly. But I’m just one chapter in yours. There’ll be more. I promise. So here it comes, the big one. Don’t be afraid to fall in love again. Watch out for that signal, when life as you know it ends. P.S. I will always love you. (P.S. I Love You)

To me, you are perfect. (Love Actually)

I’ve come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours. (Sense and Sensibility, 1995)

I will return. I will find you. Love you. Marry you. And live without shame. (Atonement)

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. (Persuasion)

I was looking up…it was the nearest thing to heaven! You were there… (An Affair to Remember)

But the you who you are tonight is the same you I was in love with yesterday, the one I’ll be in love with tomorrow. (If I Stay)

The truth is… I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart…and I never really got it back. (Sweet Home Alabama)

Me? I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of what I feel, of what I said, of who I am, but most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my life the way I feel when I’m with you. (Dirty Dancing)

I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms. Now and forever. I promise never to forget that this is a once in a lifetime love. I vow to love you, and no matter what challenges might carry us apart. We will always find a way back to each other. (The Vow)

Well, love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love… changes your life. (Win a Date with Tad Hamilton, 2004)

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. (Moulin Rouge!)

Have you never met a woman who inspires you to love? Until your every sense is filled with her? You inhale her. You taste her. You see your unborn children in her eyes and know that your heart has at last found a home. Your life begins with her, and without her it must surely end. (Don Juan DeMarco)

I have crossed oceans of time to find you. (Dracula)

I came here tonight because when you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. (When Harry Met Sally)

You can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love. So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be hard. We’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but, I want to do that because I love you. I want all of you forever, you and me everyday. (The Notebook)

I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the Ages of this world alone. (Lord of the Rings)

I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. (City of Angels)

I think I would miss you even if we never met. (The Wedding Date)

Francesca, do you think that what happened with us just…just happens to anyone? What we feel…what we feel for each other? We’re hardly…hardly two separate people now, and some people search all their life for this and never find it, others don’t even think it exists. You’re gonna tell me that…you…you’re gonna tell me that this isn’t the right thing to do? Giving it up. (The Bridges of Madison County)

We’ll always have Paris. (Casablanca)

No, you submit, do you hear? You be strong, you survive. You stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you. (The Last of the Mohicans)

Jamie: [in English] It’s my favorite time of day, driving you.
Aurelia: [in Portuguese] It’s the saddest part of my day, leaving you. (Love Actually)

Mark Darcy: I don’t think you’re an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the ridiculous about you. Your mother’s pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um…you tend to let whatever’s in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences. I realize when I met you at the turkey curry buffet, that I was unforgivably rude, and wearing reindeer jumper that my mother had given me the day before. But the thing is, um…what I’m trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um…in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much.
Bridget: Ah, apart from the smoking and the drinking and the vulgar mother…and the verbal diarrhea.
Mark Darcy: No, I like you very much. Just as you are.

Love is passion, obsession, someone you can’t live without. I say, fall head over heels. Find someone you can love like crazy and who will love you the same way back. How do you find him? Well, you forget your head, and you listen to your heart. And I’m not hearing any heart. Cause the truth is, honey, there’s no sense living your life without this. To make the journey and not fall deeply in love, well, you haven’t lived a life at all. But you have to try, cause if you haven’t tried, you haven’t lived. (Meet Joe Black)

If I could ask God one thing, it would be to stop the moon. Stop the moon and make this night and your beauty last forever. (A Knight’s Tale)

Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together. And I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home, only to no home I’d ever known. I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and aI knew. It was like…magic. (Sleepless in Seattle)

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you. (The Fault in Our Stars)

I will always find you. (Prince Charming to Snow White from “Once Upon a Time.”)

You should be kissed by someone who knows how. (Gone With the Wind)

You meet thousands of people and none of them touch you. And then you meet one person, and your life is changed. Forever. (Love and Other Drugs)

Why would you want to marry me, anyhow? So, I can kiss you whenever I want. (Sweet Home Alabama)

It’s like in that moment the whole universe existed just to bring us together. (Serendipity)

You had me at hello. (Jerry Maguire)

Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me… it brought me to you.(Titanic)

It doesn’t matter if the guy is perfect or the girl is perfect, as long as they are perfect for each other. (Good Will Hunting)

I’m also just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. (Notting Hill)

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. (Ten Things I Hate About You)

You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. (Shakespeare in Love)

Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time. (Casablanca)

I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly. (You’ve Got Mail)

Our love is like the wind. I can’t see it, but I can feel it. (A Walk to Remember)

People do fall in love. People do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance that anyone’s got for true happiness. (Breakfast at Tiffany’s)

One man I can never meet. Him, I would like to give my whole heart to. (The Lake House)

Posted in film, Jane Austen, love quotes | Tagged film, Jane Austen, love quotes | 15 Comments

Rochester and Higham, Kent, UK and How They Are Used in “Losing Lizzy: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary”

Posted on June 3, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

When I write my Pride and Prejudice based vagaries, I tend to place Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s fictionalize Rosings Park in the Rochester/Higham area of Kent. I choose this area for two basic reasons: (1) Rochester is about 30 miles from London. If one takes the 23 miles between Hertfordshire and London and adds the 30 from London to Rochester, such makes Mr. Darcy’s comment from Chapter 32, “Though it is fifty miles, it is a good road and only a half day’s journey” make more sense from his perspective. (2) Moreover, as an English teacher, I know Charles Dickens based many of his novels on the area, as he owned Gads Hill Place in Higham. Therefore, literature speaking, it called to me.

Rochester is the lowest bridging point of the River Medway. Nowadays, along with its neighbors—Chatham, Gillingham and Strood, and several other villages—Rochester is part of what are known as the Medway Towns.

Eastgate House ~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rochester,_Kent#/media/File:Eastgate_House,_Rochester,_Kent_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1582490.jpg

One of the most historic places in Rochester is the Rochester Cathedral and the school associated with the Diocese of Rochester, The King’s School (604 A.D.), which is recognized as the second oldest continuously running school in the world. The Cathedral itself was built under the direction of Bishop Gundulf of Rochester. Rochester comprises numerous important historic buildings, the most prominent of which are the Guildhall, the Corn Exchange, Restoration House, Eastgate House, as well as Rochester Castle and Rochester Cathedral. Many of the town centre’s old buildings date from as early as the 14th century up to the 18th century. The chapel of St Bartholomew’s Hospital dates from the ancient priory hospital’s foundation in 1078.

Rochester Cathedral ~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rochester,_Kent#/media/File:2006SweepsCath1crop.jpg

Rochester Castle from across the Medway (engraving, G.F. Sargent c. 1836) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rochester,_Kent#/media/File:Rochester_Castle_engraved_by_H.Adlard_after_G.F.Sargent._c1836_edited.jpg

Rochester has for centuries been of great strategic importance through its position near the confluence of the Thames and the Medway. Rochester Castle was built to guard the river crossing, and the Royal Dockyard’s establishment at Chatham witnessed the beginning of the British Royal Navy’s long period of supremacy. The town, as part of Medway, is surrounded by two circles of fortresses; the inner line built during the Napoleonic era consists of Fort Clarence, Fort Pitt, Fort Amherst, and Fort Gillingham. The outer line of Palmerston Forts was built during the 1860s in light of the report by the Royal Commission on Defence of the United Kingdom and consists of Fort Borstal, For Bridgewood, Fort Luton, and Twydall Redoubts, with two additional forts on islands in the Medway, namely Fort Hoo and Fort Darnet.

Meanwhile, Higham is a large village in the borough of Gravesham. The St Mary priory was built on land granted to Mary, daughter of King Stephen. In 1148, nuns from Brittany (St Sulphice-la-Foret) arrived and moved into the priory. Later, the priory was known as “Lillechurch.” On 6 July 1227, King Henry III confirmed the royal grant to the abbey of St Mary and St Sulpice of Lillechurch. The original parish church, the Church of St Mary, is situated to the north of the present village. It is open to visitors daily and has a wonderful display of medieval woodwork. Its pulpit is one of the oldest in Kent, dating from the 1300s.

As far back as 1558, Gad’s Hill was known for its thieves. There is a ballad from that year entitled, The Robber’s of Gad’s Hill. In Shakespeare’s play, Henry IV, Part 1, Falstaff organizes a highway robbery, taking place at Gad’s Hill, As is typical for Shakespeare, Prince Hal and Poins turn the tables on Falstaff and his men and perform their own robbery.

Gad’s Hill Place ~ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Higham,_Kent#/media/File:Gadshillplace.jpg

Charles Dickens purchased Gad’s Hill in 1856 for a little less than 1800 pounds. He died there in 1870. The Swiss chalet in which Dickens composed his works has been moved from Gad’s Hill’s garden to those at Eastgate House (pictured above) in Rochester. However, visitors can view sighs at the parish boundaries depicting Dickens’s characters.

Gad’s Hill Place is now used as a private school, originally for girls, but now mixed.

Losing Lizzy: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

She thought him dead. Now only he can save their daughter.

When Lady Catherine de Bourgh told Elizabeth Bennet: “And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point,” no one knew how vindictive and manipulative her ladyship might prove, but Darcy and Elizabeth were about to discover the bitter truth for themselves.

This is a story of true love conquering even the most dire circumstances. Come along with our dear couple as they set a path not only to thwart those who stand between them and happiness, but to forge a family, one not designed by society’s strict precepts, but rather one full of hope, honor, loyalty and love.

Follow Darcy and Elizabeth’s quest to the Rochester area of England to confront Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0884F86FP

Kindle https://www.amazon.com/Losing-Lizzy-Pride-Prejudice-Vagary-ebook/dp/B08886PXQG/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/losing-lizzy

Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/losing-lizzy-regina-jeffers/1137038434?ean=2940162951087

Posted in Austen Authors, book release, British history, British Navy, buildings and structures, Church of England, estates, Georgian England, Georgian Era, historical fiction, Jane Austen, Living in the Regency, Pride and Prejudice, real life tales, Regency era, research, Vagary, writing | Tagged book release, British history, Higham, Jane Austen, Losing Lizzy, Medway, Pride and Prejudice, Rochester, Royal Navy, setting, Thames | Comments Off

Austen’s Comic Characters, a Guest Post from Amanda Kai

Posted on June 1, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

One of the hallmarks of an Austen novel is the presence of a variety of comical characters. Whether they are serving as plot devices to advance or hinder the hero and heroine or merely providing color and levity to the narrative, we just can’t picture Austen’s books without them. There are altogether too many to name every one, but I’ll share some of my favorites.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet (Pride and Prejudice)

“Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on my poor nerves.”

“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least.”

Intended as a model of a bad marriage, these two never cease to crack me up. I don’t know who is funnier– Mrs. Bennet and her drama queen antics, or Mr. Bennet and his rapier wit. It is clear that Mr. Bennet must have fallen for Mrs. Bennet’s looks as a young man, because it’s hard to conceive that he would have married her for any other reason.

Mr. Collins (Pride and Prejudice)

“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet, “and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?”

“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.”

The charm of Mr. Collins is that he has no idea how ridiculous he appears. He’s a born people-pleaser, but his efforts to flatter at so over the top, they’re laughable. He also seems to believe himself to be a great orator, as evidenced by his lengthy speeches nearly every time he opens his mouth. While many people detest Mr. Collins, I confess, I quite adore him. His servile reverence of his patroness, his long-winded remarks and even his obnoxious proposal are quite hilarious to me.

Sir John Middleton and Mrs. Jennings (Sense and Sensibility)

The letter F—had been likewise invariably brought forward, and found productive of such countless jokes, that its character as the wittiest letter in the alphabet had been long established with Elinor.

If ever there was a son in-law and mother in-law who got along like two peas in a pod, it’s these two. Their comic banter is so tandem that when I first saw them together in the 1995 Sense and Sensibility movie, I was convinced they were actually a couple until I had a chance to read the book. I still die laughing every time Sir John delivers his “F Major” line.

Mr. and Mrs. Palmer (Sense and Sensibility)

“You and I, Sir John,” said Mrs. Jennings, “should not stand upon such ceremony.”

“Then you would be very ill-bred,” cried Mr. Palmer.

“My love you contradict every body,” said his wife with her usual laugh. “Do you know that you are quite rude?”

“I did not know I contradicted any body in calling your mother ill-bred.”

Much like the Bennets, these two seem to be ill-matched. Mrs. Palmer is giddy and cheerful to a comic degree while her husband has a dry sense of humor and is quite her opposite in personality.

Should these two have gotten married? Probably not, but we’re ever so grateful they did because the story just wouldn’t be the same without them. I especially enjoyed Hugh Laurie and Imelda Staunton’s performance of these two in the 1995 Sense and Sensibility. Mr. Palmer’s deadpan delivery of his lines just slays me every time, along with his wife’s obliviousness to all his insults. “I do wish this rain would stop.” “I wish you would stop”, is another one of those great lines that I wish had been in the book, because it fits so well with Jane’s portrayal of this character.

Mr. Woodhouse (Emma)

What was unwholesome to him he regarded as unfit for any body; and he had, therefore, earnestly tried to dissuade them from having any wedding-cake at all, and when that proved vain, as earnestly tried to prevent any body’s eating it.

“Mrs. Bates, let me propose your venturing on one of these eggs. An egg boiled very soft is not unwholesome. Serle understands boiling an egg better than any body. I would not recommend an egg boiled by any body else; but you need not be afraid, they are very small, you see—one of our small eggs will not hurt you. Miss Bates, let Emma help you to a little bit of tart—a very little bit. Ours are all apple-tarts. You need not be afraid of unwholesome preserves here. I do not advise the custard. Mrs. Goddard, what say you to half a glass of wine? A small half-glass, put into a tumbler of water? I do not think it could disagree with you.”

A hypochondriac of epic proportions, Mr. Woodhouse’s fear of drafts and rich food makes for great comedy material. He’s a dear old man, and since almost all of us have known an elderly person who behaves like this, his highly exaggerated behavior is amusing.

Miss Bates (Emma)

“Very well, I am much obliged to you. My mother is delightfully well; and Jane caught no cold last night. How is Mr. Woodhouse?—I am so glad to hear such a good account. Mrs. Weston told me you were here.—Oh! then, said I, I must run across, I am sure Miss Woodhouse will allow me just to run across and entreat her to come in; my mother will be so very happy to see her—and now we are such a nice party, she cannot refuse.—‘Aye, pray do,’ said Mr. Frank Churchill, ‘Miss Woodhouse’s opinion of the instrument will be worth having.’—But, said I, I shall be more sure of succeeding if one of you will go with me.—‘Oh,’ said he, ‘wait half a minute, till I have finished my job;’—For, would you believe it, Miss Woodhouse, there he is, in the most obliging manner in the world, fastening in the rivet of my mother’s spectacles.—The rivet came out, you know, this morning.—So very obliging!—For my mother had no use of her spectacles—could not put them on. And, by the bye, every body ought to have two pair of spectacles; they should indeed. Jane said so. I meant to take them over to John Saunders the first thing I did, but something or other hindered me all the morning; first one thing, then another, there is no saying what, you know…”

A chatterbox by nature, Miss Bates prattles on endlessly, scarcely ceasing for breath and to let anyone else get a word in edgewise. While most of the townspeople tolerate her, she annoys the heroine, Emma, to no end. A well-meaning, sweet old spinster, she ranks as one of the best comic characters in Emma. There have been many great portrayals of her in film and television, but my favorite is actually Nikea Gamby-Turner’s performance in the Emma Approved web series. Every time she yells out “MAMA!” really loudly when reenacting her conversations with her hard-of-hearing mother for Emma, I burst out laughing.

Mrs. Allen (Northanger Abbey)

“My dear Catherine,” said she, “do take this pin out of my sleeve; I am afraid it has torn a hole already; I shall be quite sorry if it has, for this is a favourite gown, though it cost but nine shillings a yard.”

Mrs. Allen is the stereotypical airheaded lady who thinks of nothing but fashion, constantly worrying about ruining her clothing and comparing her attire with others to satisfy herself that she is better dressed than them. Emma’s Mr. Knightley may say that “Men of sense do not want silly wives”, but here we have yet another example of an exceedingly silly woman married to a sensible man. Though Mr. Allen is much kinder than either Mr. Bennet or Mr. Palmer, it does beg the question: why do all these sensible men keep marrying silly wives?

Mr. Rushworth (Mansfield Park)

“If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow.”

Mr. Rushworth followed him to say, “I come in three times, and have two-and-forty speeches. That’s something, is not it? But I do not much like the idea of being so fine. I shall hardly know myself in a blue dress and a pink satin cloak.”

A bumbling idiot who has no idea how silly he appears, Mr. Rushworth is probably the best example of a comic figure in Mansfield Park. He talks of his gardens, his sport, his dogs, his jealousy of his neighbors, his zeal after poachers, all while boring his fiance to death. He makes a big fuss over having a small part in the play (two and forty speeches!) and over the fact that he will wear a fancy blue outfit with a pink satin cape. He’s a nice enough fellow, but stupid enough that we can already envision the demise of his marriage to Maria Bertram before it even takes place.

Sir Walter Elliot (Persuasion)

Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century; and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed.

Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot’s character; vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did, nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and devotion.

Mr. Darcy may get a bad rap for being prideful, but his sin is nothing compared to the pride of Sir Walter Elliot! Seriously, who sits around reading Debrett’s and thinking about how great it is to be part of a long line of baronets? His concern with his own appearance and place in society rivals any of the other proud figures in Austen’s works, and is exemplified in his eagerness to reclaim an association with his cousin Lady Dalrymple. Here his social climbing reaches epic proportions, as he spends several days agonizing over how to rectify a social faux pas from some years past that had severed the relationship between him and his cousin. Fortunately for Sir Walter, Lady Dalrymple is able to overlook the offense, and Sir Walter takes full advantage, in his comic style, of every opportunity to claim a social connection with a cousin who is a peer.

Mary Musgrove (Persuasion)

“I hope I am as fond of my child as any mother, but I do not know that I am of any more use in the sick-room than Charles, for I cannot be always scolding and teazing the poor child when it is ill; and you saw, this morning, that if I told him to keep quiet, he was sure to begin kicking about. I have not nerves for the sort of thing.”

“But, could you be comfortable yourself, to be spending the whole evening away from the poor boy?”

“Yes; you see his papa can, and why should not I”

It seems that Jane Austen also has a penchant for making light of characters that display hypochondriac tendencies. Mary always seems to fancy herself unwell and to complain about it to everybody. Except, of course, when there is someplace interesting she wants to go. Then, suddenly, she is well and eager to leave the house or to travel to wherever. When her child falls from a tree and dislocates his collar bone, she is in absolute hysterics, and it is all her poor sister can do to keep her calm and attend to the child at the same time. Yet as soon as the danger is passed, Mary is jealous that her husband wants to dine out, and would rather leave her son in her sister’s care and go out as well than stay home to nurse him herself.

I could go on all day about humorous characters in Austen’s books and quoting to you all the funny things they said or did, but these are some of the best moments that stuck out to me. Who are your favorite comic characters? What are some funny lines that you recall from the books or movies that you’d love to share with your fellow readers?

Until next time, Happy Reading,

Amanda Kai

Posted in Austen Authors, book excerpts, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Guest Post, Jane Austen, Living in the Regency, quotes, reading habits, Regency era | Tagged Amanda Kai, Austen Authors, comedy, excerpts, Georgian Era, guest post, Jane Austen, Regency Era, style, writing | 2 Comments

Broken Engagements in the Regency Period

Posted on May 30, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

A popular plot in Regency era romances is the broken engagement, but what was the truth of the situation?

Unless he suddenly uncovered a flaw in the morals of he lady, once a man proposed to a woman, he was expected to go through with it. Sometimes engagements were called off when the fathers and/or guardians could not agree on the settlements with the gentleman. However, if a man jilted the one to whom he had proposed, it was thought that he found out something to speak to her low character, particularly that she had known another intimately.

The only means to save the female’s reputation was for the gentleman to marry another quickly, so quickly that the betrothed female sometimes did not even know she was jilted. The jilted person, if of age, had the right to sue for breach of promise. Because betrothals and engagements were no longer enforced by the church, they were considered to rest on a man’s honor. The man could more easily jilt a female than the girl could jilt him.

“Breach of promise of marriage suits originated in the ecclesiastical courts; the Hardwicke Marriage Act, however, invalidated betrothals and forced jilted lovers to use the common law courts for redress. Lower-middle and upper-working class couples had a definite set of courtship rituals, based on their desire for respectability and their simultaneous lack of economic security. Though most couples wanted to find the companionate ideal, they also needed to have good homemakers (for men) and solid providers (for women). They indulged in middle-class sentimentality in their letters and poetry, yet their courting was less formal and unsupervised. This mixture of needs was also reflected in their motives for separating, a combination of ideological, structural and personal difficulties. There was a sustained argument over breach of promise in the later Victorian period, which showed the tensions between individualism and companionate marriage in its culture. The legal community was divided over the desirability of the suit; most judges supported it and most lawyers did not. It also divided the populace, since the lower classes were favorable, but the upper classes abhorred it. Women, too, were unable to agree, breach of promise protected them, but it also placed them in a special category that was inherently unequal. Ironically, the plaintiffs, by appealing to the patriarchal courts, proved to be strong feminists, since they refused to be passive in the face of victimization. This showed great determination, since most of the commentators on the action were hostile; breach of promise cases in fiction, in fact, were overwhelmingly negative, legitimizing the upper-class disdain for the suit and ignoring its usefulness for poorer women.” [Rice University Digital Scholarship Archives; Promises broken: Breach of promise of marriage in England and Wales, 1753-1970, Ginger Suzanne Frost, 1991]

The couple would often try to come up with some excuse that showed that the woman simply changed her mind, and she and the man agreed to part amicably. However, the “tale” told was often overlooked for the rumors and gossip were much more tantalizing to repeat. More gossip and scandal stuck to female’s name; there was less blame attributed to the man unless the girl’s family entered into a counter attack to shift the blame to him or to make it appear she broke the engagement. The appeal to honor was very strong. Both the Duke of Wellington and Lord Byron married women they didn’t want because they had once made the mistake of showing interest or of discussing marriage with the women.

That is the bare bones of it: the woman generally paid the price unless they could successfully claim she felt they wouldn’t suit; however, how society reacted depended on the woman’s dowry, her family position. [This held true for the gentleman, as well.] If a great heiress was jilted people would be careful not to blame her too much because they would want a chance for a son or nephew to marry her. A rich peer or a rich young man was always a good catch, and a father or guardian of the next young lady to catch his eye would make certain he made it to the altar.

A woman could cry off, but she had to be wary of being labeled a “jilt.” (1670s, “loose, unchaste woman; harlot;” also “woman who gives hope then dashes it;” probably a contraction of jillet, gillet, from Middle English gille “lass, wench,”)

A man who promised marriage and cried off could be sued for breach of promise, particularly if the promise was in writing. To win such a suit, one had to prove the promise and damages. Or he might just be labeled as bad ton. There were a few cases of men winning breach of promise suits. A good reference for those cases is Broken Engagements: The Action for Breach of Promise of Marriage and the Feminine Ideal, 1800–1940, by Saskia Lettmaier; Ginger Frost; Victorian Studies, Vol. 54, No. 1 (Autumn 2011), pp. 151-153, Indiana University Press. Not everyone would sue for breach of promise for it involved there being damages (to the daughter, leaving her unable to marry), so upper class might be inclined to sweep the whole thing aside as soon as possible so the social stain might be forgotten. Either way, it was poor form. A gentleman was not to propose unless he to go through with it; likewise a woman should not accept unless she was certain.

This is an excerpt from Elizabeth Bennet’s Excellent Adventure in which Mr. Darcy has been detained by footpads in London and does not make it to Hertfordshire to marry Elizabeth. See how the scenario of a broken engagement plays out in the story:

“Where is the dastard?” Elizabeth heard her father demand of Colonel Fitzwilliam.

The colonel and Miss Darcy had arrived at the church without the groom the entire neighborhood expected. Ironically, Elizabeth knew Mr. Darcy had not returned to Hertfordshire. Even without being told, her heart said she would know disappointment. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had permitted her mother and the others to offer a hundred reasons for Mr. Darcy’s absence. How could she tell them she had destroyed her happiness with a quarrelsome tongue?

“Perhaps Mr. Darcy took ill.”

“Mayhap there was a carriage accident.”

“More likely, the gentleman changed his mind, just as I predicted,” Mrs. Connor declared in triumph.

Miss Darcy caught Elizabeth’s hand, offering the girl’s support. “You must know how dearly William cares for you,” the girl pleaded.

Elizabeth did not wish to be cruel to Mr. Darcy’s sister, but her pride smacked of the betrayal. “Mr. Darcy cared more for his railroad than his intended,” she snapped.

Fighting back tears, Elizabeth spoke privately to her father. “Please, sir, may we not return to Longbourn? I believe two hours is long enough to wait for Mr. Darcy.”

Thankfully, her father recognized Elizabeth’s fragile composure. As they made their exit to his waiting coach, Mr. Bennet discreetly requested that Mr. Bingley see the remainder of the Bennet family home. Inside the carriage, her father gathered Elizabeth in his arms to rock her to and fro.

“My dearest girl,” Mr. Bennet whispered as Elizabeth permitted her tears free rein. “I will not tolerate this insult, not to my darling Lizzy.”

“No!” Elizabeth sobbed. “Mr. Darcy is not worth our notice. Please say you will do nothing foolish. I could not bear it.”

“I am but a country squire,” her father declared, “but I am not without connections.”

“Please, Papa. I simply wish to forget this slight. Do not exacerbate it.” Elizabeth buried her face in her father’s cravat. “It was my fault for aspiring to a match above my sphere. Lady Catherine said as much. Mr. Darcy likely realized the censure he would claim with our joining.”

Mr. Bennet took umbrage with Elizabeth’s remarks. “I will not have you speak so, Lizzy. Any man would earn a brilliant match by claiming you.”

Elizabeth attempted to control her tears. She swiped hard at her cheeks. “Permit me my misery this day,” she said through a choking sob. “I promise to know a wiser choice on the morrow.”

“As you wish, Lizzy.” Her father gathered her closer to caress Elizabeth’s back. It was comforting to know his love. “I will forbid all from entering your room until you are prepared to face them. Take as long as you like. One day or a whole month of days. When you decide how you wish to proceed, send for me, and we will deal with this together. Even if you do not wish to force the marriage, I believe Mr. Darcy’s name will know the shame of a breech of promise action.”

Elizabeth did not argue with her father regarding the futility of such legal actions against a man of Mr. Darcy’s stature. Instead, when they reached Longbourn, she hurried to her room to bury her tears in her bed pillow. She noted the worried look from Mr. and Mrs. Hill as she scurried past them. The servants and all her neighbors would know Mr. Darcy had abandoned her at the altar.

Inside the room, Elizabeth kicked off her slippers, sending them flying brought her a momentary surcease. She wished there was something else she could throw, or better yet, punch in a most unladylike manner. The thought of slapping Mr. Darcy’s too masculine cheek would be quite satisfying.

In frustration, Elizabeth ripped at the lace of her ivory wedding dress. She should summon a maid to assist her, but it did her well to hear seams rip and to have lace sleeves come loose in her hands.

With more anger than she knew possible, Elizabeth tore the gown from her body, strip by silken strip. She would never wear the dratted dress again, and seeing it turned to rags brought her the only delight this day could hold for her. Standing at last in nothing more than her shift, Elizabeth gathered the ribbon and pieces of cloth in an untidy heap and unceremoniously dumped them out the window. The realization brought another round of tears to her eyes, injustice rushing to her lips. It was bad enough to know Mr. Darcy only agreed to their marriage to save her from the damage of Maria Lucas’s gossip, but to be so publicly shamed was beyond Elizabeth’s comprehension.

“Maria’s tale would be preferable to what occurred today,” she sobbed aloud. “I might have convinced the girl to ignore the obvious, but now everyone knows the man’s disdain for the Bennets.”

“Lizzy?”

A soft knock at the door caught Elizabeth’s attention: It was Jane.

“Are you…? Is there anything…?”

“No, Jane,” Elizabeth called before biting down hard on her lip to keep from lashing out at her sister.

Jane would soon know the happiness of joining with Mr. Bingley. How often had they hid in the copse to speak of the men they would love?

“I am well,” Elizabeth managed.

“Are you certain?” came her sister’s voice of concern.

Anger returned. “Why should I not be well?” she said with ill temper. “It was the pinnacle of my day to stand before friends and foes and permit them to witness my public humiliation.” She paused, seeking control. “Just leave me be, Jane. I know you mean well, but…”

“As you wish,” Jane said in what sounded of tears.

Silence followed her sister’s departure. Elizabeth could hear the buzz of voices below. She hoped her father could keep everyone away. She imagined the chaos as Mrs. Bennet hustled servants to remove the wedding breakfast.

“The breakfast,” she murmured through a new round of tears. Curling in a ball upon the bed, Elizabeth covered her face. “The breakfast where Mr. Darcy and I were to accept the congratulations of all our dear family and friends.”

Elizabeth Bennet’s Excellent Adventure: A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

The Last Man in the World She Wishes to Marry is the One Man Who Owns Her Heart!

ELIZABETH BENNET adamantly refused Fitzwilliam Darcy’s proposal, but when Maria Lucas discovers the letter Darcy offers Elizabeth in explanation of his actions, Elizabeth must swallow her objections in order to save her reputation. She follows Darcy to London and pleads for the gentleman to renew his proposal. Yet, even as she does so, Elizabeth knows not what she fears most: being Mr. Darcy’s wife or the revenge he might consider for her earlier rebuke.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY would prefer that Elizabeth Bennet held him in affection, but he reasons that even if she does not, having Elizabeth at his side is far better than claiming another to wife. However, when a case of mistaken identity causes Darcy not to show at his wedding ceremony, he finds himself in a desperate search for his wayward bride-to-be.

Elizabeth, realizing Society will label her as “undesirable” after being abandoned at the altar, sets out on an adventure to mark her future days as the spinster aunt to her sisters’ children. However, Darcy means to locate her and to convince Elizabeth that his affections are true, and a second chance will prove him the “song that sets her heart strumming.”

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Posted in British history, Church of England, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Great Britain, Living in the Regency, Living in the UK, marriage, marriage customs, romance | Tagged broken engagements, England, marriage customs, marriage laws, Marriage Settlements, Pride and Prejudice | 10 Comments

Bleeding a Patient to Cure Apoplexy During the Regency Era

Posted on May 27, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

In Regency novels, the reader frequently reads of one of the characters suffering an apoplexy. Exactly, what does that mean? Apoplexy (from the Ancient Greek, meaning “a striking away”) is bleeding within internal organs and the accompanying symptoms. For example, ovarian apoplexy is bleeding in the ovaries. The term, especially as it was used in the Regency Era, referred to what is now called a stroke. (MedicineNet.com)

From the late 14th to the late 19th century, apoplexy referred to any sudden death that began with a sudden loss of consciousness, especially one in which the victim died within a matter of seconds after losing consciousness. The word apoplexy was sometimes used to refer to the symptom of sudden loss of consciousness immediately preceding death. Until the late 19th century physicians often had inadequate or inaccurate understandings of many of the human body’s normal functions and abnormal presentations. Hence, identifying a specific cause of a symptom or of death often proved difficult or impossible.

According to Culpeper’s Complete Herbal (page 214), Lily of the Valley was a remedy for apoplexy. “It is under the dominion of Mercury, and therefore strengthens the brain. The distilled water dropped into the eyes helps inflammation there. The spirit of the flowers distilled in wine, restores speech, helps the palsy, and is good in the apoplexy, and comforts the heart and vital spirits. It is also of service in disorders of the head and nerves, such as epilepsy, vertigo, and convulsions of all kinds, swimming in the head, and are made use of in errhines and cephalic snuff.”

Culpeper also suggests walnuts. In the States we have advertisements on the TV for California walnuts being heart healthy. Culpeper explains that the walnut is a plant of the Sun. “Let the fruit of it be gathered accordingly, which has the most virtue whilst green, before it shells. The bark binds and dries very much, and the leaves are much of the same temperature, but when they are older, are heating and drying in the second degree, and are harder of digestion than when fresh; if taken with sweet wine, they move the belly downwards, but if old, they grieve the stomach; and in hot bodies, cause the choler to abound, producing headache, and are an enemy to those that have the cough; but are less hurtful to those that have a colder stomach, and kill the broad worms in the stomach or belly. If taken with onions, salt, and honey, they help the bites of mad dogs, or poisonous bites of any kind. The juice of the green husks boiled with honey, is an excellent gargle for sore mouths, or the heat and inflammations in the throat and stomach. The kernels, when they grow old, are more oily, and unfit to be eaten, but are then used to heal the wounds of the sinews, gangrenes, and carbuncles. If burned, these mens’ courses, when taken in red wine, and stays the falling of the hair, and makes it fair, being anointed with oil and wine. The green husks will act the same, if used in the same manner. The kernels beaten with rue and wine, and applied, helps the quinsy; bruised with honey, and applied to the ears, eases pains and inflammation therein. The distilled water of the green leaves in the end of May, cures foul running ulcers and sores, to be bathed with wet cloths or sponges applied to them every morning.” (page 384)

wallflower-and-bumble-bee-387x257 — Wild Wallflowers http://www.pennywoodward.com.au/wallflowers/

Wild Wall-Flowers are also suggested by Culpeper (page 383). “A conserve made of the flowers is used for a remedy both for the apoplexy and palsy.”

Richard Bright, a Regency era physician, conducted a great deal of research on apoplexy. Born in Bristol in 1789, Bright studied medicine at the University of Edinburgh and Guys Hospital, finishing his studies in 1812. Autopsies of apoplectics proved that the four humors used throughout the 16th and 17th centuries for medical decisions as erroneous. “Apoplexy” was a term used by professionals and the educated laity for a disorder that “struck abruptly, causing a sudden abolition of all the activities of the mind, with the preservation, for a time, of the pulse and respiration” (Theophile Bonet, Sepulchretum, 1679).

Jean Fernel (1544) and Johann Jacob Wepfer (1658) found intracranial hemorrhage at autopsies of apoplectics. These observations proved apoplexy was a disorder of cerebral blood vessels, rather than an accumulation of phlegm or some other humor.

At the beginning of the 19th century, physicians still used the these distinctions from earlier medical studies to define apoplexy: “sanguineous apoplexy,” caused by intracranial hemorrhage, and “serous apoplexy,” in which the effusion of serum was held responsible for the apoplectic state.

Giovanni Battista Morgagni was an Italian anatomist, generally regarded as the father of modern anatomical pathology, who recognized a third type of apoplexy, in which neither blood nor serum was effused. “On the authority of Morgagni and other “great masters,” any amount of fluid present in the ventricles and the subarachnoid space was, for a time, deemed to be abnormal by many scholars and a cause of apoplexy. The concept of “serous apoplexy” endured until the latter part of the 19th century.” (World Neurology)

Soon, apoplectics, who survived, were believed to have done so because of proper treatments.

In Bright, R. Reports of medical cases selected with the view of illustrating the symptoms and cure of diseases. Vol I, Vol II London, Longman. 1827, 1831. p 334, we learn, “In the treatment of apoplexy, the most important point is the employment of bleeding; the judicious use of which powerful remedy the cure greatly depends.”

imgres The early 19th century, treatment still used humoral concepts. Bright purported reducing congestion rather than restoring the humoral balance. Bleeding was a common practice of the time, as well as the use of leeches and cupping. Physicians monitored the pulse, and when the pulse became depressed, they stopped the letting of blood. Those administering the procedure took extra precautions with feeble individuals. Excessive bleeding was as dangerous as the condition at times. America’s first President lost his life because of excessive bleeding.

From “George Washington: An Eyewitness Account of His Death,” we have, “No one is quite sure what killed Washington. He was in fine health at age 67 when he contracted hoarseness and a sore throat a few days after helping to move a snow-mired carriage near his home. There was little alarm until he awoke in the middle of the night with difficulty breathing, almost unable to talk. A doctor was summoned, but Washington did not wait, ordering an employee to bleed him. The doctor arrived and, according to the principles of the day, bled him again. Eventually, Washington requested no further bleeding be performed, but he was bled again anyway. The bleedings inflicted by Washington’s doctors hastened his end. Some 80 ounces of blood were removed in 12 hours (this is .63 gallons, or about 35% of all the blood in his body).” (Morens, D. M. Death of a President. New England Journal of Medicine. 1999: 341; 1845-1849.)

“Blisters and Setons were used as additional supplements to bleeding. Purging was in regular use. The induction of vomiting was occasionally practiced but it was considered harmful by those who feared that the strain associated with vomiting may be harmful. Bright used stimulants when ‘the patient grew cold’ and ‘the pulse fluttering.’ He poured ‘vinegar down the throat, brandy if it could be procured’ or ‘a few drops of compound spirits of ammonia to elicit cough that tended to rouse the patient.” Cloth dipped in hot water was applied to the stomach. Cold cloths were “dashed on the temples and forehead with a sudden jerk,” when the head felt hot and the carotids were throbbing. Frequently, the head was shaved, and cold applied to the shaven head. Such therapy persisted throughout the 19th century, and bloodletting for stroke was not unknown in the 20th century. Few went as far as Thomas Sydenham, who stated: ‘I have consulted my patients’ safety and my own reputation most effectually by doing nothing at all.'” (World Neurology)

For more detailed information of Richard Bright and His Advancements in the Study of Apoplexy, please visit World Neurology

If you are interested in Culpeper’s Complete Herbal, you can find copies on Amazon.

For more than 360 years, Nicholas Culpeper’s historic guide to herbal remedies has been THE definitive book on the subject. Culpeper, an English herbalist, is the author of the bestselling herbal guide of all time. He offered valuable and sometimes unusual advice on using, gathering, and preparing herbs. Now, this beautifully illustrated new edition, edited and with commentary by acclaimed US herbalist and bestselling author Steven Foster, combines the charm and information of Culpeper’s original seventeenth-century text with up-to-date, modern, practical usage. It includes details about where to find each herb, astrology, and medicinal benefits.

Posted in American History, British history, England, Georgian England, Georgian Era, herbs, medicine, real life tales, Regency era | Tagged American history, apoplexy, British history, Georgian Era, herbs, medicine, Nicholas Culpeper, Regency Era | Comments Off

Railroaded in the Regency, a Guest Post from Colin Rowland

Posted on May 25, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

Outlining plots, which I have been engaged in for severak weejs, is always a voyage of discovery for me. Not having lived during the Regency (no, really? who’da thunk!), I got to thinking about the movement of goods in the early 19th century. How did shops in England get the goods they sold?

I realize that much of a merchant’s inventory was locally sourced, especially when it came to food, but there were many items that had to have been produced elsewhere and brought to the business. How these items were transported got me wondering how common rail travel was. Turns out, not very, at least not in the first three or four decades of the century. They existed, but their usage was limited to a select few applications, such as mining and quarrying, for the most part.

The first recorded operation of a steam locomotive was February 21, 1804, in Pen-y-Darren, South Wales, and seemed to come about as a result of a bet. Its inventor, Richard Trevithick, built an engine that hauled 10 tons of iron and 70 men nearly ten miles from Pen-y-Darren at a speed of five miles per hour, winning the railway owner 500 guineas in the process. The man was too far ahead of his time(about 20 years), and his invention was regarded as a novelty. His creation never made him any money, and he died penniless.

Mr. Trevithick’s was not the first attempt to harness the power of steam, though. The idea had been kicking around since the late 1700s and various tinkerers had attempted to create a working model. In 1784, a Scottish inventor built a small-scale prototype of a steam road locomotive, and a full-scale one was proposed by William Reynolds around 1787. But Trevithick’s idea was taken by others, and by 1845 there were over 2,400 miles of track, carrying more than 30 million passengers per year in Britain alone.

Rail lines themselves were not new. Britain had them in the 18th century, but they were horse-drawn and used almost exclusively in quarries.

As the network expanded, rail’s advantage as a cost-effective way to move both goods and people made it ubiquitous in Britain, and throughout the world. Here was a form of transportation that anyone could use, for a myriad of reasons. It was almost impervious to the whims of mother nature and was incredibly efficient as well.

This is where the expected nugget of information from me is passed along. In comparing any type of wheeled conveyance, from horse-drawn wagons to trucks, or cars, or trains, and yes a train is a wheeled conveyance, the rolling resistance of a train is far and away less than that of any other vehicle. It turns out that steel on steel is extremely efficient!

That’s not to say that the trains were comfortable. This new mode of transportation used wood to fire the boilers and some of the obvious by-products of burning wood were ashes, which tends to settle on anything handy, and burning embers, which were known to start fires. Unfortunately, the fires were not always confined to the surrounding forests and fields. Passengers had to pay attention to embers landing on clothing and starting fires that could quickly get out of control because the first iterations of passenger cars did not have much in the way of windows to keep the outside world at bay.

Conditions did not improve a whole lot with the transition to coal. While the prevalence of burning exhaust was reduced, soot and odor replaced ash and embers. Coal is not a clean-burning fuel, as anyone who has ever lived in a home with a coal-burning furnace can attest. My family lived in a couple that I can still remember from my childhood, and I can clearly recall two things from those years. The smell from the furnace used to permeate your clothing, and the coal chute into the basement made a fantastic slide for a five-year-old boy. (Mom used to get so mad when it came time to wash clothes because she had to wash my blackened trousers and shirts separately from everything else. Ah the joys of youth,)

This blog came about because I wanted to find some way to introduce travel by rail into the plot of a potential story. I suppose I could, but then Mr. Darcy would have to either own a quarry or work in one, and that might go over like the proverbial lead balloon. Bringing Elizabeth into the tale would be even harder. The only person I can see as easy to include would be Wickham. Him I can see as a train robber, although a bit of a bumbling version. Of course, my vision of him is close to Don Knotts’ character in The Apple Dumpling Gang. He’s an easy fellow to make fun of.

Until I can find a way to incorporate my idea into a novel it will have to remain on the back burner. Ms. Austen might have heard of such a thing as a train, but they would have been in their infancy when she passed away, and as much as I’m tempted to stretch the setting of a story I can’t move it by 20 years or more. I guess it’s back to the drawing board for this plot point, although I have some ideas for other new for the era inventions.

Posted in American History, Austen Authors, British history, commerce, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Guest Post, history, Industrial Revolution | Tagged Austen Authors, British history, Colin Rowland, commerce, guest post, history, industrialization, railroads, Regency Era | 2 Comments

Turning Urine into Gold and Hennig Brand’s “Folly”

Posted on May 23, 2022 by Regina Jeffers

Hennig Brand, (flourished 1670, Hamburg [Germany]), was a German chemist (alchemist, really) who, through his discovery of phosphorus, became the first known discoverer of an element.

The Famous Scientists website (see link below) provides us a bit about Brand’s personal life.

“In his late teens, Brand served as a soldier, perhaps a junior officer, in the 30 Years’ War (fought 1618–1648). This was a ruinous war in which millions died. It resulted from Ferdinand II’s desire, as Holy Roman Emperor, to impose Roman Catholicism on Germany’s Protestant northern states.

After the war, Brand is known to have done several things before he discovered phosphorus.

Earned money as a physician, calling himself Doctor, and adding M. D. behind his signature, although he had no recognized qualifications in medicine. (In fact, he was not known to understand Latin, so he was not educated in the sense we think of the word today.) He

Carried out alchemical research.
Learned the art of glass blowing, one of the essential skills of alchemy and chemistry. (There were no apparatus catalogs in those days: glassware was made locally, usually by the alchemist or his assistant.)
Married a wealthy wife, whose sizable dowry enabled him to fund his alchemical research.
Became a father.
Married a second wealthy wife, Margaretha, after the death of his first wife.”

Yet, Brand had not “supposedly” set out to discover phosphorus. He reportedly had planned to turn urine into gold. They are both yellow in cold, right? One must remember that in the 1600s, collecting urine was not as weird as it might seem nowadays. Urine was used to fertilize crops and soften leather and (yuck) even clean one’s teeth.

Alchemy was a medieval science and philosophy. Those who practiced it had hope to turn base metals into gold through a process called “transmutation.” Therefore, Brand thought that he could create gold by altering urine, which was supplied to him by his fellow soldiers. Brand spent months collecting urine in buckets, until he had accumulated such buckets. He placed said buckets in his basement to “age,” permitting the water to evaporate and the urine to concentrate.

https://www.sciencehistory.org/distillations/hennig-brandt-and-the-discovery-of-phosphorus ~ The Alchymist (1775) by engraver William Pether, after the 1771 painting by Joseph Wright of Derby.

A military officer and self-styled physician, Brand has often received the undeserved title “last of the alchemists” because of his continual search for the philosopher’s stone, which reputedly could change base metals into gold. About 1669 he isolated from urine a white, waxy material and named it phosphorus (“light bearer”), because it glowed in the dark. Although Brand kept his process a secret, phosphorus was discovered independently in 1680 by an English chemist, Robert Boyle.

In his experiments, Brand ended up with a vibrant blue-green substance which seemed to glow both in the daylight and in the dark. Yet, he could not get the substance to do anything except to glow.

Later, Daniel Kraft, who was also a German alchemist (about 1675) purchased Brand’s blue “goo,” turning into “Magic Tricks.” He would light candles with the “goo.” He would make explosions. He would write blue-green words with it. He made a fortune on Brand’s discovery by marketing it to the rich and famous and to royalty as a “gimmick” for entertainment purposes. So, although Brand did not turn urine into gold, people have made millions using the phosphorus he discovered.

If you want more check out the video listed below. It is quite entertaining!

Resources

Famous Scientists

Hennig Brand (Britannica)

Know the History of Alchemy and Its Chemical Experiments (Video)

Science History Institute

Posted in history, real life tales, research, science | Tagged alchemy, Hennig Brand, history, real-life tales, research, science | 2 Comments

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