sheenaghpugh: (Default)







This is one of a series of introductions to various periods of history, and who better to write the Georgian volume than Mike Rendell, he of the “Georgian Gentleman” blog? He deals with the period under various headings: politics, culture, the armed forces, industry, leisure etc, in his usual readable style and with copious colour illustrations.

One does not open an “introduction” expecting an exhaustive survey; there are suggestions at the back of the book for further reading, relevant museums and places to visit for those who wish to study the period in more depth.  But this is more than a superficial overview. When space to describe a whole era is limited, the choice of detail becomes crucial, and this is where Rendell scores.  He is good at finding the kind of details that not only stick in a reader’s mind (what could more succinctly convey the degree to which George I was despised than the fact that his heir’s refusal to attend the funeral earned him instant popularity?) but which add up to something beyond themselves, forming a bigger picture.

 With the Georgians, as often as not, this involves fashion and invention. An explosion in the quantity of affordable printed material, like newspapers, magazines and dress and furniture catalogues, enabled ordinary folk to know what was going on in the upper echelons of society; what Duchess A was wearing and how Lord B had redecorated his mansion. This led to a desire to imitate them, which in turn was facilitated by the inventiveness of the time and the advent of means of mass production. Few could afford silver tableware, but Thomas Boulsover’s Sheffield plate made a handsome substitute, while the alloy resembling gold and named for its inventor, jeweller Christopher Pinchbeck, started a craze for costume jewellery. Even the lawns of the great mansions could be imitated in little, thanks to Edward Budding’s lawnmower – “home owners no longer needed sheep, or an army of labourers with scythes to cut the grass, and even humble abodes could have their patch of green. Few men have done more to change the immediate environment in which we live.”

And this craze for fashion had its own influence on other areas. When, in a bid to finance its wars, the government taxed powder for wigs, the public response was simple and swift: wearing one’s own hair, cropped and curled, suddenly became the new fashion. Those campaigning for the abolition of the slave trade found that they could have a real effect on policy by making it unfashionable to take sugar in tea – an early instance of boycotting a product for moral reasons. They could also, thanks to Josiah Wedgwood, advertise their allegiance by wearing one of the tens of thousands of pottery medallions he produced, with the inscription “Am I not a man and a brother?” To quote Thomas Clarkson; “Ladies wore them in bracelets […] at length the taste for wearing them became general and thus fashion, which usually confines itself to worthless things, was seen for once in the honourable office of promoting the cause of justice, humanity and freedom.”

The central and all-pervading role of fashion for the Georgians could have made an apt summary to end the book, which actually ends rather abruptly at the close of a chapter on food and drink, but this may be less the choice of the author than the house style of the series; not having read any others, I can’t say.

The illustrations are many and fascinating, as ever with this author. One oddity I noticed was how often the credits for them reference the Yale Center for British Art (where among much else there may apparently be found Katherine Read’s satirical “Grand Tour” painting and Reynolds’s great portrait of Frances Abington in a pose not entirely unlike a famous photograph of Christine Keeler), the Lewis Walpole Library in Connecticut, which boasts many a cartoon, including Gillray’s, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which supplied several of the fashion plates, and the Library of Congress. Never mind the Elgin Marbles; it would have been something if we could have exerted ourselves to keep our own history at home instead of snaffling other people’s.

This is a very readable introduction to a fascinating period that resembles our own in many ways, notably in the central role it accorded to fashion and means of communication.

sheenaghpugh: (Default)







“By marriage, the husband and wife are one person in law: that is, the very being or legal existence of the woman is suspended during the marriage […] a man cannot grant any thing to his wife, or enter into covenant with her, for the grant would be to suppose her separate existence.”

Blackstone’s Commentaries, explaining succinctly the nature of legal “coverture” and why the best, in fact almost the only plan for a woman in the Georgian era who wanted to make a success in life was to be unmarried or a widow. Many of those here discussed were one or the other, and those who were married often had husbands who left them, drank their profits or were otherwise more of a hindrance than a help. Women like Anna and Elizabeth Fry, belonging to the Society of Friends, were fortunate in that the Friends were far less apt to see women as adjuncts of men.

The other huge disadvantage women faced was their relative lack of education.  By a deft if immoral circular argument, men dismissed the importance of education for women on the ground that they had no role in affairs, while denying them such a role on the ground that they were not educated for it. As the anonymous “Sophia” wrote, “The Men, by thinking us incapable of improving our intellects, have entirely thrown us out of all the advantages of education, and thereby contributed as much as possible to make us the senseless creatures they imagine.” Most, though not all, of the successful women here discussed had a better education than was usual for their time.

One of the most admirable, indeed, was Jane Marcet, with the advantage of a Swiss father of progressive ideas who had her educated alongside her brothers. When she married a physician and chemist, she developed an interest of her own in science, absorbing knowledge by attending scientific lectures. But her real innovation was to hit on the idea of writing a basic science textbook aimed at children, girls in particular, in the form of a conversation between two girls and their teacher, Mrs Bryan. “Not only was it intended to be read by girls, but it introduced to those girls the idea that the person imparting the scientific knowledge could be female.” It was not only girls who read it, though, as that most generous-natured of scientists, Michael Faraday, acknowledged; “Mrs. Marcet’s ‘Conversations on Chemistry’ ... gave me my foundation in that science […] hence my deep veneration for Mrs Marcet.”

Widows often took over their late husband’s business and there showed their aptitude for another field supposedly outwith their capabilities. Hester Bateman became a noted silversmith and established a long-lasting family business; this happened quite often in silversmithing families. Mrs Clements, another widow, developed a new and highly profitable method of milling mustard. Anna Fry, after the death of her husband Joseph, carried on the family chocolate business. Many wives, like printer and printshop owner Mary Darly, must have been equal partners in business with their husbands, but because of coverture we do not know of most of them, whose husbands were not as honest as Josiah Wedgwood in admitting their debt: “I never had a great plan that I did not submit to my wife”.

However, one of the most outstanding female successes of the Georgian business world stayed single. Eleanor Coade tapped into the growing market for an artificial stone that could be used to mass-produce architectural details like scrolls and carvings and which would withstand weather. Previous attempts had failed. Eleanor was a keen clay modeller (she had exhibited at the RSA) and may have experimented with her own mixes. At any rate, she came up with a product she named “lithodipyra” – twice-fired stone. It wasn’t the most catchy name, but architects like Adam and Nash could not get enough of it. It was light, easy to work and extremely durable, so much so that it can still be seen in features on Buckingham Palace and the Brighton Pavilion. It was also exported, going as far as the USA, the West Indies and St Petersburg. It became known as Coade stone, which seems only fair, and though over 650 items in it have been identified, thousands more exist; they simply have never had occasion to be repaired. She was also a good businesswoman and died wealthy: “Eleanor left much of her money to various charities, and to specific female friends on condition that the gifts were not to be controlled by their husbands. It revealed the feminist beliefs held by Eleanor – she regarded coverture as iniquitous.” No wonder she never married.

There are more famous examples recounted here – Hannah More, Mary Wortley Montagu, Elizabeth Fry, Mary Wollstonecraft – but in some ways the less well-known, like those above and others, are the most fascinating. But I’ll let you meet them for yourself.

Profile

sheenaghpugh: (Default)
sheenaghpugh

January 2025

S M T W T F S
    1234
567891011
12131415 161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 5th, 2025 01:33 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios