The Language of Fans

Fans were an indispensable article of dress from the 18th century onward. Not only did they cool the wearer, who was burdened by heavy garments after a heated dance, but they became the means of transmitting clandestine messages. It would be too bold to actually walk up to someone of the opposite sex and say very personal things, but a flick of the fan would do the job. Since it was common for gentlemen to carry hand fans as well, quite a conversation, flirtation, or argument could be carried on across a crowded room. Using a wide variety of movements, the fan transmitted symbolic language, and even an alphabetic code. Of course, all these coded messages were about male/female relationships, but really, don't you want some secret signs to say things you'd never say out loud? I knew a couple who had a few personal gestures they'd use; for instance, at a dull gathering, tugging on the right earlobe meant "Let's leave". Our family has a hand sign for "Who cares?", which is apparently a variation of the West Side Crips gang sign, but since we do it palm forward and it predates the gang sign, we think of them as sissy posers.

Poor Dolly and Minerva are beginning to despair about their social connections. Father hosts a tea for some Fellows of the Antiquarian Society of London, where he is a major force in their publication Vetusta Monumenta. While Father spouts forth on the quality of engravings, Minerva and Dolly are driven to express their boredom through fan signs of their own devising.

I was so happy to find this lovely Tea Table from Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management, on The Old Design Shop blog. The pictures there are sooo nice and beautifully scanned, so why not visit?

Keeping Up With New Dances

The first decades of the 1800s saw increasing departure from the formal dance routines of the earlier century and the introduction of livelier and more intricate routines. Many manuals were published to educate dancers in new and old steps. Thomas Wilson, who wrote several dancing manuals, created an overwhelming diagram of possible Quadrille formations, to illustrate one of his books. This link will take you to several interesting original manuals.

One of the concerns with dancing was that a lady should not dance with anyone before a proper introduction. This did not mean, "Hi, I'm Josh. Wanna dance?". A mutual acquaintance must formally introduce a lady to the gentleman. This posed a problem during country dances and quadrilles, as an introduced couple would be continually changing partners during the course of the dance, and therefore, dancing with who knows who. Or whom.

The waltz was introduced in England during Regency times, much to the confusion and dismay of some. While other dances had exuberant moves and physical contact between the sexes, the waltz outdid them all. One couple danced exclusively with each other, with both arms in contact for a whole dance set --imagine the possible outcomes! Despite the naysayers, the waltz was very popular and three-quarter time ruled for the rest of the century. Other lively couple dances were the mazurka, which was usually danced by couples in quadrille formation, the galop, and the polka. (I do hope you watched that last link!) All of these were descended from European folk dances.

Especially toward the mid-1800s, etiquette and decorum at dances was taken very seriously. To avoid awkward scenes, men who wished to dance with a certain lady requested a dance later in the evening. She would then write his name on her dance card, which was usually marked with a list of the type of dance music that would be played. Often the gentleman would request her honor of dancing a waltz, or whatever dance he preferred. When that set approached, he would then approach the lady.

I'm finding it difficult to locate decent pictures of men's fashion from Regency era publications. If the clothing is fine, the faces are usually just awful. Ackermann's women are so lovely, I can't bear to pair them with poorly-drawn men! What I've done with some is to take the bodies and give them new heads, usually from my file of handsome men in daguerreotypes. Those of you who visit My Daguerreotype Boyfriend know that good-looking men weren't invented yesterday. Well, Minerva meets a handsome stranger who is living just a bit in the future. Who is he? Hint: He's got a famous dad and looks absolutely nothing like him.

Womanly Skills: Dancing

What woman doesn't love to dance? Even in my own distant youth, it was considered important to know how to do the basic ballroom dances, so at 13, I was signed up by my mother to take dancing lessons. It was tons of fun learning the steps to the waltz, polka, foxtrot, two step, and other standbys, including some courtly and folk dances. Just for the fun of it, I, being one of the tallest in the class, would deliberately pair up with a male friend who was a "little person". I remember the teacher calling for everyone to choose a partner, adding, "Billy and Carol may NOT dance together!". What larks!

In Regency times, dances were the major opportunity to meet people, especially people of the opposite sex, and have one's moves be observed. I've observed a lot of moves in Austen movies and various YouTube videos, and really wonder if everyone danced in such a listless and mechanical fashion. I live in New England, where contra dancing is very popular. Contra dances, or country dances, are performed in long lines, usually involving a group of two neighboring couples who interact and then gradually work up the line, so the "bottom" couple ends up at the top of the line, having danced with everyone else in the line. A band plays and a caller announces each movement. Often, before officially dancing, the caller guides the dancers through a practice session, so the actual dance goes smoothly. Contra dances are lively, fast, and noisy, and lots of fun. However, if you exchange "fiddlers" for "violinists" and slow the whole thing down to an almost sleep-walking speed, you have Regency dancing like this.  ((Yawn...)) I suspect people actually danced like this. Certainly, this was a gathering of country folk, but I can't imagine the ton enjoying the zombie dances. Contemporary pictures show women kicking up their heels and men wiping sweat from their brows.

Almack's Assembly Rooms was an social club in London, operating from 1765 to 1871. While most social events were held in private homes, Almack's gave people of the upper crust an opportunity to mingle without special invitations. Of course, one had to be approved by the committee, which was made up of extremely influential Lady Patronesses. Those who were approved were awarded vouchers for the season, and more importantly, the acceptance of the social set; those who were not, were excluded. More devastating was the revocation of one's voucher, the news of which would bar one from Society in general. Fortunately, for Dolly and Minerva, they have a voucher and are looking forward to making advantageous connections.

Womanly Skills: Needlework

Well, what's a woman to do with all those spare hours, but feather her nest and trim her bonnets? Look at those Jane Austen movies where a visitor arrives unexpectedly and the ladies of the house quickly smooth themselves down and snatch up some embroidery so it looks as if they'd just been caught during a quiet moment perched on the divan. It just wouldn't do to have people see you working. Handwork shows that a woman has time, patience, and a desire to make the world a more beautiful place. Besides, women are better at 'fiddly work', as Princess Diana once said to women factory workers.

A cousin once complimented an outfit I was wearing, and I told her that I had made it myself. "Wow! You're really good at sewing," she replied. "I'm really good at buying nice clothes". That's how Dolly and Minerva see it. Women in those days had their clothing made by seamstresses, as ready-to-wear was not available. Gowns were often embroidered with whitework or broderie anglaise, what we would recognize on eyelet trimming today, but most often the fabric would be purchased from women who did that sort of work as a living. Dolly and Minerva could go to Mr. Ackermann's shop, or one he recommends, buy all the lovely fabrics and trims they needed, and then visit the dressmaker, armed with one of Mr. Ackermann's fashion plates. As the simplicity of the first decade of the 19th century gave way to more and more ornamentation, women had to focus on trims and appliqué, often moving them from one garment to another.

A wonderful movie is The Heiress, starring Olivia de Havilland and Montgomery Clift, based on Henry James' novel Washington Square. Catherine Sloper, a plain, shy, and awkward heiress meets a handsome man who, inexplicably to her, showers her with attention. Her unfeeling father believes the young man is only after her money, but she is convinced that he truly loves her. Her father decides to leave her penniless if she marries this opportunist, which makes no difference to her. Will it make a difference to Morris? There is an awful scene when Catherine tries of convince her father that Morris loves her for herself. The father retorts with insults about her qualities, adding, "I've known you all your life and I have never known you to learn anything. With one exception, my dear, you embroider neatly."

The Classical Past and Present

The years around 1800 were times of avid interest in the classical cultures of ancient Rome, Greece, and Egypt. Archaeological discoveries had made people aware of the richness of these civilizations, and fortunately, inspired them to preserve and protect these finds. The former Roman Empire was still littered with the ruins of ancient structures, so it was no surprise to anyone that farmers or ditch diggers would unearth even more buildings or artifacts. In the late 18th century, a concerted effort was made to excavate the former Roman resort city of Pompeii, and there was great excitement over the remains of probably the best-preserved Roman settlement in existence. As excavation continues there, and in the neighboring town of Herculaneum, to this day, we are given a somewhat unnerving time-capsule of life in the first-century Roman Empire and of the tragedy that struck Pompeii's residents. In 1799, a soldier in Napoleon's army in Egypt uncovered a large, flat stone, or stele, covered with inscriptions. Dubbed the Rosetta Stone, it was discovered to have the same inscription repeated in three languages: Egyptian hieroglyphic, Egyptian demotic text, and ancient Greek. Its value was immediately recognized and scholars set to work decoding the symbols, starting from what they knew. The result was the first decoding of the hieroglyphic symbols by Jean-François Champollion in 1822. Archaelogy Fever gripped the western world, leading to discoveries that would change the way Europeans thought about life in ancient times. It also led to many serious confrontations between governments which clashed over possession of important artifacts.

Dolly and Minerva attend a lecture on the recent discovery of the Venus de Milo in 1820. There has been much made of the Greek recognition of certain ratios equaling visual perfection, and although armless Aphrodite might seem a bit solid, she is, indeed, perfect.

I've dubbed the older man 'Linear B. Chadwick', after John Chadwick, who, along with Michael 
Ventris, decoded the 'Linear B' script, the oldest known form of ancient Greek.

Womanly Skills: A Foreign Language

Just as American school system promotes the idea that having a smattering of a foreign language is a necessity for every citizen, so were well-off women in the 18th and 19th centuries expected to be able to read, write, and converse in another tongue. It allowed them to read foreign literature and converse with visitors from abroad. Most women studied French, as I did, because it was the language of the arts. Despite years in the classroom, my French is pretty miserable, due to lack of actual real-life exposure.  It has stood me in good stead in stock-piling a large mental list of Latin root words, reading street signs in Quebec and much of Canada, and a fun session assisting Khmer carpenters work up a supply list for a new pavilion they were constructing at my old school in Cambodia.

Dolly and Minerva's cousin Geneviève learned French and see how it opened doors for her! Who wouldn't want to hob-nob with Sir Percy Blakeney, the famed Scarlet Pimpernel, and listen first-hand to his thrilling tales of how he, Sir Andrew Ffoulkes, and the other members of The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, rescued innocent victims of the French Revolution. Give Sir Percy a few glasses of wine and he'll likely have his guests rolling on the floor laughing with his famous "They Seek Him Here" ditty. Geneviève gets to meet all sorts of interesting people with impeccable manners and a most fastidious sense of fashion. What's more, many of them have handsome sons.

On the other hand, Dolly and Minerva have been subjected to a rigorous study of Latin and Greek, due to the interests of Father, an enthusiastic member of the Society of Antiquaries of London. It has become increasingly apparent to the girls that anyone likely to converse with them in those languages has been dead for centuries, if not millennia. 

Translation: Father: Honey, I'm home!
                     Mother: Hello, James. What's new?
                     Dolly: Whatever is said in Latin sounds more profound.
                     Minerva: As if!
                     Dolly: Everyone's doing it!
                     Minerva: Get a life!

Dolly & Minerva Show Off

No vaguely historical ramblings today. Dolly and Minerva get together with their cousins to show off their musical skills.