Bills of Mortality 1820

Loretta reports:

Given the state of medicine in the early 1800s, it’s amazing that anybody survived into his or her nineties, let alone to a hundred or more.  But my Annual Registers offer proof that a handful of people did live to 100 and beyond.  They also offer sad proof of the high rate of infant mortality.

The illustration is from a page of the 1820 Annual Register (a lot happened that year, and it goes to two volumes, of which I have only one).  For easier reading, I've retyped the top part below.

A GENERAL BILL OF ALL THE CHRISTENINGS AND BURIALS, WITHIN THE BILLS OF MORTALITY*, FROM DECEMBER 14, 1819 TO DECEMBER 12, 1820.

Christened—in all 23,158….Males 11,993….Females 11,165

Buried—in all 19,348....Males 9794....  Females 9554

Whereof have died under 2 years..4758

Between 2 and 3 years………………….1795

5 and 10……………………………………….. 887

10 and 20……………………………………… 667

20 and 30……………………………………..1484

30 and 40……………………………………..2006

40 and 50……………………………………..2069

50 and 60……………………………………..1878

60 and 70……………………………………..1632

70 and 80……………………………………..1208

80 and 90……………………………………… 662

90 and 100……………………………………. 119

100……………………………………………………2

101……………………………………………………0

102……………………………………………………1

103……………………………………………………0

The causes of death make interesting and puzzling reading.  “Stoppage in the stomach”????

*“within the bills of mortality” means London.  You can find additional interesting statistics here.

Gloves for Show, Not for Snow

Susan reports:

Most modern mittens and gloves have zilch style: one-size-sort-of-fits-all that reduces the fingers to fleece or fiberfill sausages. Warm, yes, but the form is a very distant follower to the function.

But it wasn't always so. In the 16th-17th centuries, gloves and glove-making reached an almost impossibly high level of artistry and expertise. Custom made to fit the wearer, these gloves were often made of perfumed leather, usually white or cream to emphasize that they were intended for fashionable display, not work. Just as luxuriously, most of these mittens were made of silk velvet. From the hand of the glove or mitten flared long gauntlet cuffs. The cuffs were the canvas for master embroiderers stitching with silk and golden threads and embellishing with rows of tiny spangles, pearls, or other precious beads. The fabric was almost entirely covered with needlework, much like the extraordinary embroidered jackets of the same era.

The mittens, above, are purple velvet with embroidery of silver thread. The horizontal slit above the thumb was for slipping the fingers through if necessary (much like the combination fingerless-glove/mittens favored today by cell-phone users.) Here's another pair of elegant mittens from the V&A, this time with red velvet hands and cream satin cuffs.

Some gloves had entire fanciful scenes continuing from the back of one glove to its mate (like this pair from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston.) Others, like these in the V&A, had cuffs further enhanced with metallic thread needle-lace, gold and silver spun into a fairy's web around the hems. Still others, like this pair from the Fashion Museum in Bath, had loops of ribbon like silken bracelets to divide the ornate silk cuff from the leather hand. In later gloves, like these worn by King Charles I (the same king with the pearl earring mentioned here last week), the gauntlet cuff has shrunk and been divided into petal-like sections, though the embroidery is just as exquisite.

Of course, no one was wearing any of these gloves or mittens to keep warm. They were symbols of status, meant to impress others with their beauty and cost. They were popular as gifts to royalty, or in turn bestowed by a king or queen as a sign of favor or thanks for loyalty. The pairs that survive often show virtually no signs of actual wear, but have been preserved through the centuries as the treasures they are.

Still, velvet mittens would certainly make winter more bearable....

Above:English Mittens, 1640, from Harley Gallery, Welbeck, Worksop, Nottinghamshire

Below: Detail of Richard Sackville, 3rd Earl of Dorset, by William Larkin, Kenwood House, London

Dressing Dolley Madison

Susan reports:

Earlier this week, Loretta posted a blog (Department of Quotation: Those American Goliaths) that included a portrait of early First Lady Dolley Madison (1768-1849). At once we received an email from Jen Holmes of WGBH/Boston, who informed us of an Amazing Coincidence: on Monday, 1 March, PBS will debut a new documentary about Dolley as part of their American Experience series.

Noting our past blogs about historic dress and costume, Ms. Holmes generously sent us several of the costume sketches for the program, plus stills that display the finished gowns as worn by actress Eve Best, who plays Dolley. We're sharing them exclusively to you: Dolley as a young widow in Quaker grey, and later in her life, as James Madison's stylish wife.

Ms. Holmes also provided the link to this video that offers a fascinating behind-the-scenes

look at how these clothes were created by costume designer Candice Donnelly. Dolley was a woman who understood the power of dress, and took great care with the "image" she presented to the world. A dozen different gowns were made for this show to cover her life from 1787 to 1830, and ten wonderfully fanciful hats.

Now when it comes to historic clothes, we here at the TNHG have been all about actual examples in museum collections, or stitch-by-stitch replicas such as the those made in Colonial Williamsburg. That level of accuracy is what we aspire to when, as novelists, we strive to recreate the past through words.

But costumes for historically set films are a much different kettle of fish. Absolute accuracy may not always work under bright lights, and what's most important is the illusion that's created on film. I've seen exhibitions of movie costumes that looked fabulous on the screen, but in reality were revealed to be printed lace and plastic gems. When watching this video clip, I saw the metal grommets on Dolley's corset and reacted much like Joan Crawford with the wire coat-hangers. ("No metal grommets in 1790! Must be hand-stitched eyelets!!!") But after a few moments of historical hysteria, I realized that the grommets didn't matter because they would never be seen. The final silhouette of the corset beneath the gown is beautifully correct, and Ms. Best makes an excellent 18th c. American lady as she brings Dolley's story to life.

What more could even the nerdiest history nerd want?

Here are several more video clips featuring the show:

Dolley Madison: The Courtship

Dolley Madison: The First Lady Formula

Dolley Madison: Partisan Politics

Top portrait: Mrs. James Madison (Dolley Payne), from a painting by Gilbert Stuart, Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division

Many thanks to Jen Holmes and WGBH!

Men Behaving Punitively: Still flogging after all these years

Loretta reports:

Perusing the 1833 Annual Register (yes, I do it for fun), I came upon the following:

21 May
The annual motion to abolish flogging in the army was renewed by Mr. Hume … In 1827, Mr. (now Sir John) Hobhouse,* said, “he had attentively listened to what had fallen from the gallant officers in the army on the subject; but the only reason they gave for defending flogging that he could discover was, that it ought to be continued because it had existed.  He had heard an officer say, that in his regiment some of the men were brought out so frequently to be flogged, that they were known by the name of the flogging-blocks; and this circumstance demonstrated that, so far from flogging making them better soldiers, or men, no good could be derived from it; and as no benefit resulted from the revolting custom, it ought to be abolished, as being a national disgrace…The punishment of slaves in the colonies was restricted to fifteen lashes, whilst the British soldier was usually subjected to 300, 400, or 500 lashes.  He could not believe, that the soldier was so much worse than the slave, as to justify that disproportion of punishment.”

Lord Althorp…thought…that the weight of military authority was so great, that it would not be prudent to take away this punishment entirely from the officer.  He admitted, that it was a punishment against which every one’s best feelings must revolt; but he should feel, that it was taking upon himself a responsibility which he should not be justified in taking, if he acted in opposition to the whole body of officers of the army, and gave a vote for taking a away a punishment which they said was necessary…Sir R. Ferguson confessed, that the motion placed him in a very unpleasant situation; he could not vote for it, and he would not vote against it. 

What struck me about this was “the annual motion.”  According to my copy of the Annual Register, Hume had “submitted a similar proposition on March 25, 1824”—nine years previously.  Further investigation turned up a couple of the debates, in 1826 and 1834.   (They make fascinating reading.)  Undoubtedly there were many more.  Flogging was not completely abolished in Britain’s army and navy until 1881.

*John Cam Hobhouse, Byron’s good friend; later Lord Broughton.

The top left illustration is James Gillray's  "The caneing in Conduit Street. Dedicated to the flag officers of the British Navy."  Courtesy Library of Congress Prints ( LC-USZC2-1323), which offers the following description:  'Caricature showing a stout naval officer attacked by Lord Camelford, who says, "Give me satisfction, rascal! Draw your sword..." Captain Vancouver replies, "Murder! Murder! ..." The print may reflect the growing discontent due to harsh naval discipline.'  (Loretta's note:  30 years before Hume first presented his motion).

Bottom right illustration is "Flogging on a Man-of-War."   Courtesy Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA.

The King with the Pearl Earring

Susan reports:

Today pearls are among the most common of precious "jewels." But before the development of cultured pearls and farming in the early 20th c., all pearls were natural pearls. These rare treasures could be discovered only by accident and at considerable peril. Natural pearls had great mystique and luminous beauty as well as value, which made them favorites of queens – and kings.

One of the most famous pearls of the 17th c. belonged to King Charles I of England (1600-1649). While the origins of this single pearl earring are unknown, Charles is first shown wearing it in a miniature, left, as the fifteen-year-old Prince of Wales. The pearl soon became what fashion-folk today call a "statement piece", and one that he was seldom without.

Charles's large teardrop-shaped pearl – an especially rare and desired shape –was made into a single dangling earring with a tiny gold crown as the cap, topped with an orb and cross that was most fitting for a future king. Since Queen Elizabeth's reign, fashionable English gentlemen had worn single earrings as a sign of courtly swagger and bravado, qualities that the young prince was woefully lacking: Charles was slight and short (only 5'3"), he limped from childhood rickets, he stammered, and he suffered from acute shyness. Perhaps the sizable jewel gave him the confidence that nature had not.

Whatever the reason, Charles wore the pearl for the rest of his life, and it appears in nearly every portrait of him, including one of him dressed casually for hunting, right. He developed into a style-conscious king who patronized the arts, and the single earring suited him in that capacity, too, as the romantic, cavalier king.

Unfortunately, while Charles was a very good patron to artists, architects, and composers, he proved to be a wretched king to his people, stubbornly unable to reconcile his subjects' desires and expectations with his own. After barely surviving two civil wars, he was captured by the Parliamentary forces led by General Oliver Cromwell and found guilty of high treason. He was executed on 30 January 1649, beheaded with a single stroke of the ax on a scaffold before Whitehall Palace. He was still wearing the pearl earring as he placed his neck on the executioner's block.

Later historians seem to have been determined to give the execution a lurid, gory hysteria that no contemporary witness reported, and describe a (fictitious) howling mob surging forward to tear the precious jewel from the bloody, severed royal head.

Well, no. Even with regicide, this was still Puritan England, not Jacobin France.

Instead Charles's earring was respectfully removed when his head was sewn back to his body in preparation for burial. The earring was then sent as a final memento to his oldest daughter, Mary, Princess Royal (1631-1660), as Charles had requested. After Mary's death, the earring eventually found its way to one of the late king's most loyal supporters, William Cavendish, 1st Duke of Newcastle-upon-Tyne (1592-1672), who had also been entrusted with the education of Charles's son, the future King Charles II. Today the earring, bottom left, remains in the collection of the duke's home, Welbeck Abbey in Nottinghamshire, now owned by the Dukes of Portland.

Top left: Charles, Prince of Wales (later Charles I) by Issac Oliver; the Berger Collection,

Denver Art Museum.

Top right: detail, Charles I, King of England, at the Hunt by Anthony van Dyck; the Louvre

Lower left: detail, Charles I, King of England, from Three Angles, by Anthony van Dyck; Windsor Castle, Royal Collection

Bottom right: Earring of Charles I, Harley Gallery, Welbeck, Worksop, Nottinghamshire

Update: Many thanks to my fellow nerdy art history friend Connie G. for suggesting yet another portrait of Charles I. The detail at left shows the earring more clearly than any other portrait of the king as an adult.

Department of Quotation: Those American Goliaths

Loretta reports:

Lieut. Francis Hall, an Englishman traveling in North America in 1816-1817, offers some fascinating observations of the young United States and its people.

Portrait at left is Dolley Madison, the president's lady at the time.

The President, or rather his lady, holds drawing-room weekly, during the sitting of Congress. He takes by the hand those who are presented to him; shaking hands being discovered in America to be more rational and manly than kissing them. For the rest, it is much as such things are every where, chatting, and tea, compliments and ices, a little music, (some scandal, I suppose, among the ladies,) and to bed. Nothing in these assemblies more attracted my notice, than the extraordinary stature of most of the western members; the room seemed filled with giants, among whom, moderately sized men crept like pigmies. I know not well, to what the difference may be attributed, but the surprising growth of the inhabitants of the Western states is matter of astonishment to those of the Eastern, and of the coast line generally. This phenomenon, which is certainly a considerable stumbling-block to the Abbé Raynal's theory, may probably be resolved into the operation of three positive causes, and one negative, namely, plentiful but simple food, a healthy climate, constant exercise in the open air, and the absence of mental irritation. In a more advanced stage of society, luxurious and sedentary habits produce in the rich that enfeeblement of vitality, which scanty food, and laborious or unwholesome occupations bring upon the poor. The only persons to be compared with these Goliahs of the West, were six Indian chiefs from Georgia, Chactaws or Chickasaws, who having come to Washington on public business, were presented at Mrs. Madison's drawing-room. 

They had a still greater appearance of muscular power than the Americans; and while looking on them, I comprehended the prowess of those ancient knights, whose single might held an army in check, "and made all Troy retire."

Travels in Canada, and the United States, in 1816 and 1817. By Lieut. Francis Hall.
Hall.  London, Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, & Brown, 1818.

Courtesy Library of Congress, CALL NUMBER E165 .H19, DIGITAL ID  lhbtn 26822

Casanova in the news

Loretta reports:

An alert reader informed me, the day after I posted about Casanova and the condoms, that he'd made the news.  The tale of his memoirs' travels is one Casanova would have enjoyed, I don't doubt.

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