Sep 282012
 

I rather like this etching by N Brett, entitled “Foppish Insignificance, Coquettish Allurements” and published in March 1795:

The print appears at the Lewis Walpole website and shows the gentleman, with studied nonchalance, raising his eyeglass beneath his elegant brimmed hat, cravat neatly tied and with just the right amount of ruff showing at the cuffs. The lady giving the come-on is splendidly plumed, with long tresses, and holds her fan down.

On an altogether more obvious note, a print from the British Museum showing a courtesan waiting for her next customer. It is entitled The Girl in Stile. The sketch on the wall behind her shows exactly what her game is!

 

Sep 262012
 

In mentioning 1787 Richard Hall notes in his diary “The first Committee formed in London for the Abolition of the Slave Trade”

Richard was of course writing this in the absence of any knowledge as to how the abolition movement would end – Parliament was not to approve abolition until six years after Richard’s death. Richard would have heard at first-hand about the plight of slaves because his first wife’s uncle (William Seward) raised money and went to America with George Whitfield (one of the founders of the Methodist movement) in order to buy land so that freed and escaped slaves could establish farms and be self-sufficient.

Throughout the last half of the eighteenth century there had been a growing ground-swell of opinion – Parliament did not lead the change, but reacted to the continual pressure from people like Thomas Clarkson, who was the real power-house for abolition. Thomas, along with two other Anglicans were founder members of the Society for Effecting the Abolition of the Slave Trade (´SEAST´). All the nine remaining founder members were Quakers, reflecting their driving force behind abolition. But Quakers were banned from entering Parliament and they therefore sought the support of William Wilberforce, MP for Kingston upon Hull. But if Wilberforce was the mouthpiece of the movement Clarkson was the engine, devoting years of his life to travelling tens of thousands of miles around the country obtaining evidence, canvassing, educating, and basically giving Wilberforce the bullets to fire in Parliament.

It had started for Clarkson when he was at Cambridge University. The 25 year old had entered an essay-writing competition (in Latin) on the question “Is it lawful to enslave the unconsenting?” The research for the essay was to change his life. It dawned on him that someone had to do something about the appalling degrading trade, and that the ´someone´ was going to be him.

The next year he translated his essay into English and it became widely circulated and acclaimed. He helped found SEAST and tirelessly toured the country on horseback organizing petitions and rallies. He pestered and cajoled William Wilberforce into promoting the abolitionist cause in Parliament. He even managed to get 11,000 signatures opposing slavery from Manchester – roughly a fifth of the entire population and this in a city built on commerce. How? By pointing out that the business of shipping slaves was not just morally repugnant but, in business terms, hopelessly wasteful. It is estimated than 20% of all slaves died in transit – of highly contagious diseases like dysentery. But the same statistic applied to the crews who manned the slave ships, since disease affected everyone, and that sort of loss was clearly “bad business practice”.

Clarkson collected and distributed stories of the hideous squalor on board the slave ships. He showed people his gruesome collection of torture implements (leg irons, thumb screws etc.) used to control the slaves. Above all he demonstrated that the slaves were human beings, and in Josiah Wedgwood´s pottery medallion bearing the inscription “Am I not a man and a brother?” he struck a chord which resonated throughout the kingdom. The medallion became a fashion item and as Clarkson himself wrote “ladies wore them in bracelets, and others had them fitted up in an ornamental manner as pins for their hair. 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.”

 

Picture courtesy of the V & A

 

 

 

Wilberforce first tried to push his anti-slavery Bill through Parliament in 1791 – but was crushingly defeated. Soon, all attention was devoted to the war with France. The anti-slavery movement was obliged to ´hibernate´ until war was nearly over before re-doubling its efforts. In 1804 Clarkson again hit the road, criss-crossing the countryside whipping up support. Finally the Slave Trade Act became law in 1807. The Act made it illegal to engage in the slave trade throughout the British colonies, but trafficking between the Caribbean islands continued, regardless, until 1811.

Two centuries on from this anniversary Wilberforce continues to be remembered and gets all the credit. His is a household name; Clarkson the forgotten hero. Clarkson died on 26th September 1846. Wilberforce is buried in Westminster Abbey near his political chum William Pitt; Clarkson is interred St Mary’s Church in the small Suffolk village of Playford.

Sep 242012
 

The date: 18 November 1799

The cartoonist: James Gillray

The Title: French Taylor fitting JOHN BULL with a Jean de Bry

Background: English opposition to the French idea of  “freedom” as advocated by the French Directory.

Shown courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery

–Transcription of Speech–

French-Taylor: “Aha! – dere my Friend, I fit you to de Life! – dere is Liberte – no tight Aristocrat Sleeve to keep from you do vat you like! – aha! begar, dere be only want von leetel National Cockade to make look quite a la mode de Paris!!”

John Bull: “Liberty! – quoth’a! – why zound I can’t move my Arms at all! for all it looks woundy big! – ah! damn your French Alamodes, they give a man the same Liberty as if he was in the Stocks! – give me my Old Coat again, say I, if it is a little out at the Elbows.”

The Frenchman is as usual shown as a monkey (shades of modern consternation at racism in football !) while the English Gent is standing on a volume entitled ‘New Fashions’ while he complains about the tight fit of the jacket ( an allegory for the French ideas of Liberty). The French may look good in a Jean de Bry jacket but once it crossed the Channel and became a Jean Debry coat its days were numbered…

Jean de Bry was a French revolutionary leader famous for the slogan La patrie est en danger! (“The Fatherland is in danger!”) and was President of the National Convention for all of two weeks in 1793. He was later exiled to the Netherlands, and no-one has heard of his jackets since. Gillray ridiculed the fashion in this 1802 print entitled “… only look at the General, Madam”

Gillray obviously delighted in showing corpulent Englismen in tight jackets – here are  two  more:

  

 

Sep 212012
 

In what I think passes as humour in the early 1800s (or maybe the writer was simply a sexist male) I offer my ancestor’s “Model for a Lady’s Dressing Case”.

The writing is that of Benjamin Hall (Richard’s son, and hence my 3xgreat grandfather). In the centre is ‘A Mirror’, flanked on either side by ‘A mixture giving sweetness to the Voice’ and ‘A wash to smooth wrinkles’. Behind (left to right) is ‘A fine eye salve’, ‘Best White Paint’, and ‘Lip Salve’. In the front row appears ‘A pair of earrings’, ‘Best rouge’ and ’A General Beautifice’

Initially I had taken it at face value until I realized that each item covers a flap which opens up to reveal those virtues which were considered necessary for all Ladies if they were to match up to Benjamin’s standards: Benevolence, Innocence and Cheerfulness; Mildness & Truth, Humility and Contentment; Attention, Modesty & Health, Good Humour.

So there we have it: the virtues every Lady was expected to put on every morning when she sat at the Dressing Table. No mention of what the male of the species was getting up to with his toilet…

A Georgian Dressing Table, with separate compartments inside, courtesy of Walton House Antiques.

 

Sep 192012
 

A rather splendid but anonymous cartoon held by the V&A is entitled “Fashionable Information for Ladies in the Country”. It dates from 1795.

The caption explains that “the present fashion is the most easy and graceful imaginable: it is simply this – The Petticoat is tied round the neck and the arms put through the pocket holes!!!”

It reminds me of the Andy Pandy suits of my childhood!

Sep 172012
 

Today let us hear it for a Bristol school teacher called George Pocock. O.K., he was mildly eccentric, and yes, maybe his invention of a machine to spank multiple miscreants at the same time was perhaps ahead of its time but hey, discipline was important at the George Pocock Academy at Prospect Place St Michaels Hill, Bristol. He called his invention the Royal Patent Self-acting Ferule and of course it is a travesty of history that George never made a fortune from his brilliant idea. Synchronised spanking – it could have made it as an Olympic sport….

Instead we have to remember George for a splendid flight of fancy called the  charvolant – a kite-based form of transport which astonished the public and royalty alike, from 1826 onwards.

George had been born in 1774. When he was 26 he had opened his Prospect Place Academy in Bristol with the stated objective of turning boys into successful young businessmen. He was a wonderful eccentric and had devised a number of curious things as an aid to learning, including the idea of celestial globes (inflatable balloons 45 to 65 feet in circumference filled with air, inside which the teacher could stand on a pedestal lecturing his attentive pupils on astronomy. Transparent holes in the globe would mimic the positions of the stars, enabling those inside to get the impression of being in the centre of the Universe admiring it through eye glasses). Yours for only 6 guineas – a veritable snip!

George had always been fascinated by kites. He wrote how as “a little tiny boy, I learnt that my paper kite would draw along a stone on the ground, tied to the end of its string.” Years later he strapped his daughter Martha into an arm chair, attached it to a pair of kites, and flew her 300 feet into the air. She subsequently recovered and went on to become the mother of England’s most famous cricketer – W G Grace.

In subsequent experiments he harnessed a pony chaise to a pair of kites and discovered that it was possible to move up to half a ton on the carriage, depending on wind strength. He made a number of ‘charvolants’ for these first horseless carriages, and it was claimed that the Pocock kite carriages could race mail-coaches from Bristol to London and back. A pilot kite was fed out first, followed by one or, if needed, two main kites. The four ropes enabled the “charioteer” to steer even along a road at right angles to the wind. “Thus,” he found, “whatever road the car may travel by a side-wind, the same road it may return by the same wind; and where there is space for traverse, as on plains or downs, it is possible to beat up against the wind.”

To slow down or stop the driver would slacken off one of the ropes, collapsing the main kite and forcing a hoe-like brake into the surface of the carriageway.

In 1826 Pocock obtained a patent for his char-volant and 2 years later demonstrated it at Ascot racecourse to King George IV. Immediately afterwards, he raced against horse-drawn coaches on the road between Staines and Hounslow, winning easily.

The charvolant could allegedly reach speeds of twenty miles per hour. Pocock wrote about journeys from Bristol to Marlborough stating that the charvolant beat one of the London stages to Marlborough by twenty-five minutes, even though the stage had a fifteen minute head start. Of this journey Pocock comments:

“This mode of travelling is of all others the most pleasant: privileged with harnessing the invincible winds, our celestial tandem playfully transpierces the clouds, and our mystic moving car swiftly glides along the surface of the scarcely indented earth; while beholders, snatching a glance at the rapid but noiseless expedition, are led to regard the novel scene rather as a vision than a reality.”

Pocock wrote a book with the handy little title ‘The Aeropleustic Art or Navigation in the Air by the use of Kites, or Buoyant Sails’ which was published in 1827 . In it he describes an instance when the charvolant had the impertinence to overtake the carriage of the Duke of Gloucester – a mark of extreme bad manners. He made up for his rudery by stopping and allowing the Duke to overtake, thereby commending himself to the Duke.

One added advantage of the machine was that it escaped all road tolls. Toll gate operators sought to charge drivers according to the number of horses using the road – but as no horses pulled the charvolant  no fee could be levied. As Pocock remarked

“There is a peculiar satisfaction in not being detained at toll-bars. The pains and the penalties which there arrest common travellers, never intercept this celestial equipage. The Char-volant, then, has the distinguished prerogative of conferring this Royal privilege; and those who travel by kite travel as Kings”.

“The herald-bugle is sounded — the gates fly open — you pass unquestioned” Pocock marveled.

On 18 July 1828 at the Liverpool Regatta ten men crossed the Mersey against strong tides and winds with a kite-drawn two-masted boat, “to register great surprise among the nautical parties who witnessed it” (The Engineer).

Pocock was carried away by the potential of his kite-drawn invention, announcing that he estimated that a party of six might cross the Sahara in 10 days and 10 hours for a total cost of about £80. “Is it too fond a hope that, by the system of æropleustics, those sands may be navigated as the sea, and thus a most speedy and safe communication be opened between the east and the west of the interior?”

He was convinced kites could be used to assist sailing ships i.e. as auxiliary sails. He also suggested using kites in the case of a shipwreck, using them to drop anchor. Pocock does, however, acknowledge that “portions of the plan are not practicable”

For a number of years the use of kites seemed on the point of reaching a breakthrough in everyday transport, but then came the railways and eventually the motorcar, and Mr Pocock and his splendid invention were consigned to history’s rubbish bin… I think it is a shame, so let us hear it for a mad school teacher with a flight of fancy. George, you are a hero!

Sep 142012
 

When I was hawking the manuscript of The Journal of a Georgian Gentleman around different publishers I asked why I was being turned down. I was informed by one publisher that there was a problem: my cleavage had not been surgically enhanced; I was not married to a footballer; and my book was not about gardening. So I failed the three main criteria for publishing success….

Public interest in ladies displaying their ample wares is nothing new (think Nell Gwyn…) and the popularity of sportsmen is deep-rooted (although in the 18th Century the adulation was reserved not for footballers but for the giants of the ring, the pugilists like Jack Broughton, James Figg and Daniel Mendoza). But what of gardening? How did that fare in the Georgian era?

Many know of Capability Brown, some know of Humphry Repton, but one name largely overlooked is Batty Langley. Batty (sometimes used as a diminutive form of Bartholomew) was baptised at Twickenham on 14th September 1696, the son of Daniel and Elizabeth Langley. His father was a jobbing gardener who seems to have been working for a David Batty, so the name may have been given to the baby in tribute to this patron. Batty Langley grew up in his father’s footsteps, keen on gardening but determined to spread his wings rather than pottering around with a spade and pruning knife. (I nearly said “secateurs”, but they were not invented until the Marquis Bertrand de Moleville fled to England after the French Revolution).

At the age of 23 Batty married, but his wife Anne died after producing four children from seven years of marriage. He remarried and went on to sire another ten children, to whom he bequeathed such fanciful names as Euclid, Vitruvius and Archimedes. Shades of my grandfather, who had to be persuaded that ‘Vaseline’ was not a suitable name for one of  his male offspring, nor ‘Alopecia’ or ‘Lanolin’ for a girl…

Batty Langley received a commission to do some design work for Thomas Vernon at Twickenham Park. There he encountered a large sandpit and managed to convert “this perfect nuisance” into “a very agreeable beautiful” spiral garden, using hornbeam hedges. It was the start of a fascination with shapes and serpentine mazes which led him in 1728 to publish his oeuvre “New Principles of Gardening; or The Laying out and Planting Parterres, Groves Wildernesses, Labyrinths, Avenues Parks etc”

The sub-title gave claim to the fact that the methods described in the book were more ‘Grand and Rural’ than anything before, listing “Experimental Directions for raising the several kinds of fruit trees, Forest Trees, Ever Greens and Flowering shrubs with which gardens are adorn’d.”

 The book contained very little new, but the illustrations were influential in bringing to people’s attention the use of shapes and winding vistas – he wanted gardens to lead the visitor through the design, rather than have everything in full view. There should be surprises around each corner or, as he put in the introduction: ‘Nor is there any Thing more shocking than a stiff regular Garden; where after we have seen one quarter thereof, the very same is repeated in all the remaining Parts, so that we are tired, instead of being further entertain’d with something new as expected.’

In other words it marked a move away from the rigidly, geometrical knot gardens favoured by the Elizabethan and Stuart gardeners, even if the world was not yet ready for the picturesque gardens of Capability Brown. Batty loved mazes, but often introduced swirls and patterns far removed from the traditional honeycomb designs.

Langley’s design for the gardens at Orleans House, Richmond.

In some ways his ideas were right at the start of the rococo movement; the problem was that this self-publicist thought that he was now the arbiter of taste in all areas of everyday life. He brought out books on carpentry and furniture design, prompting Horace Walpole to utter “All that his books achieved, has been to teach carpenters to massacre that venerable species, and to give occasion to those who know nothing of the matter, and who mistake his clumsy efforts for real imitations, to censure the productions of our ancestors, whose bold and beautiful fabrics Sir Christopher Wren viewed and reviewed with astonishment, and never mentioned without esteem.”

He submitted a design for a new Mansion House in London in 1735, only to have it described in the ‘St. James’s Evening Post’ as ‘a curious grotesque temple, in a taste entirely new…’ Undeterred, he pursued his ideas of “arti-natural” gardens, linked with what is now termed “Batty Langley Gothic” architecture. He felt that his writhing shapes and flowing designs were ‘exceeding beautiful in building, as in ceilings, parquetting, painting, paving, &c.’.

He published numerous tomes on building techniques, and on architecture under such inspiring titles as ‘The Builders Compleat Assistant’ (1738); ‘The City and Country Builder’s and Workman’s Treasury of Designs’ (1740); ‘The Builder’s Jewel, or the Youth’s Instructor and Workman’s Remembrancer’ (1741); ‘Ancient Architecture, restored and improved, by a great variety of Grand and Useful Designs’ and in 1748 ‘A Survey of Westminster Bridge, as ’tis now Sinking into Ruin.’

In general though, he was ridiculed for his designs for buildings. But for his gardening book he deserves to be remembered. ‘Arti-natural’ may not have been revolutionary but at least Langley encouraged trees to have a natural form rather than being pollarded out of existence. Look at a serpentine shape or a paisley design, and remember Batty Langley with affection.

He died at his Soho home in London in 1751, but I post this today on the anniversary of his baptism 316 years ago….

Sep 122012
 

Two etchings under the heading “Fashions a little before 1800″ appeared at Akermans Gallery at 101 Strand in London in 1800. They each show fashions from the front, rear and side. Gentlemen first:

They wear Jean de Bry coats, hats, and high, tasseled boots and carry walking sticks.

Now for the same trio showing female fashion for c. 1800 with the woman wearing a poke bonnet and carrying a parasol.

Mind you, for my money when it comes to poke bonnets I don’t think you can beat this, entitled A Pig in a poke and her Litter.

All images are courtesy of the Lewis Walpole Library.

Sep 102012
 

Keeping caged birds appears to have been popular in the Eighteenth Century – at least if my ancestor’s diaries are anything to go by. He refers to his sister in law having a family parrot – and even wrote an ode to it when it died! Indeed one of my earliest problems in deciphering the  diaries of Richard Hall was that he kept referring to”Polly” (“Polly unwell…Polly went away…Polly much recovered..”) and it took me a while to work out that Polly was his parrot rather than the nick-name for his daughter!

The inventory of household effects at One London Bridge identifies both a parrot cage and a cage for a canary.

 Richard Hall also noted that on 10th November 1790 he received a present of a canary from Mr Pratt.

I am unsure who the kind benefactor was, since Mr Pratt does not feature elsewhere in the diaries (unless he was the Pratt who was the author of Pratt’s Gleanings – a man renowned for his love of animals, and not, I would have thought, the sort of person to give caged birds as a present). Birds such as canaries and finches could be bought from street vendors, as in this engraving (copyright of the British Museum).

For my part I have never liked the idea of keeping birds in a cage. Mind you I was given one when my children were young. It was a type of canary called a Gloster (with a strange flattened crest like a Beatle haircut). It sang nary a single note! Then one day we got Rentokil in to fumigate the house for woodworm, and poor Ringo ended up on the bottom of his cage with his feet in the air, stiff as a board. Deciding to educate the children (then five and three) I held a solemn burial service in the garden to explain to them about the transience of life: the problem was that the next day the cat dug up Ringo and brought him back indoors to play with, so we had to learn about the Resurrection as well….

Sep 072012
 

“Belle’s and beaus, or, A scene in Hyde Park : the little dog bark’d to see such sport-shaming an honest nation”. This print by William Heath, who lived between 1795 and 1840, is a lovely example of how cartoonists showed contemporary fashions. It was published in 1814 and is shown courtesy of the Lewis Walpole Library.