May I Have the Honor of Hopping the Broom--Part I

They are the stuff of legend: young ladies and gentlemen, madly in love, but unable to marry because of family protests or lack of fortune. Romeo and Juliette, the Hatfields and McCoys, West Side Story. In nineteenth century England, though, if you wanted to marry your sweetie and your family protested, there was one clear answer.

Elope to Scotland.

You see, in the 1700s, getting married in England, particularly London, was easier than it should be. A law had been passed in the 1690s that required certain rules to be followed for a marriage to be legal, but a quirk in the law exempted ministers operating in the environs of Fleet Prison in London. So, if you wanted to be married, at any age, at any time (literally 24/7), for any reason, you could just find a willing cleric near the prison and exchange vows with your sweetie and that was that. Thousands of marriages a year were conducted this way, and taverns and houses in the area did a booming business catering to those who wanted, for whatever reason, to get married quickly.

But this opened the door for all kinds of problems. What if some fortune hunter grabbed a rich heiress and seduced her into marriage? What if a young lady of good family decided to marry, gasp, the young strapping butcher! At the time, the legal age for getting married was 7 (yes, 7—feel free to shudder), with no parental consent required. Most people were far older, of course, and most who married quickly weren’t trying to be shady. But, sad to say, some were bigamists and many were schemers.

In 1753, Parliament passed the Marriage Act to stop such abuses. The act abolished common-law marriages like the ones at Fleet Prison where you merely had to exchange vows. Now for your marriage to be recognized in England and Wales, you had to be at least 21 or your parents had to agree you could be married. If your parents agreed, the boy had to be least 14 and the girl 12. You had to have a formal church wedding in the Church of England (or a license to wed elsewhere) and the official had to be a cleric in the Church of England, unless you were Jewish or Quaker. Your marriage had to be officially recorded in the parish record. Before you could be married, you either had to have a minister read the banns--the announcement of your upcoming wedding--in your home church and your betrothed’s home church for three weeks in a row (so people could protest if they happened to know you were already married or had some other reason not to wed) or you had to buy a license. Generally, you married in the morning (between eight and noon).

These rules would have effectively put a stop to quick marriages, except that Scotland had no such rulings. A marriage made there was legal anywhere in the Empire, as long as you had proof. Many a couple ran for the border, with a father toting a pistol or horse whip chasing after them.

And what happened once they got to Scotland? I’ll explain next Friday. In the meantime, thanks again for all your interest in the Young Bluestockings Book Club! Marissa and I can hardly wait for our first discussion in February! Keep those suggestions coming!

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?

Bailouts, layoffs, depressed retail sales—the news is full of dismal economics these days. When people lose their jobs, we at least have a few protections like Welfare and Social Security. In the nineteenth century, if you couldn’t pay your bills, you ended up in Debtor’s Prison.

In London, Fleet Prison housed over 300 prisoners and their families. Yep, your spouse and kids went to prison with you. The prison had two wings. On the Master’s side, you and your family would live in a room about 14 by 12 feet, with your own fireplace and window, although there were several larger, grander rooms you might get if the current tenant left and you had seniority. On the first floor was a chapel, tavern, and coffee house as well as the rooms for the watchman. The prison also boasted an inner courtyard where you could play tennis or lawn bowling.



On the Common side, you lived in a room about 24 feet square with a fireplace and windows. Narrow bunks were built into the walls, seven on a side. You were supposed to have a kitchen in the basement, but an observer in 1780 noted that it was full of lumber and couldn’t be used.

And you had to pay for the privilege of being in prison. Every prison at this time had fees, and the ones in the Fleet were supposed to be the highest in England. You paid for your rooms and your food; you paid to have the leg shackles taken off. If all the rooms were occupied when you arrived, you paid some tenant for part of his room. If you were deemed not particularly dangerous, you could pay to live in rooms near the prison instead (called the Liberty of the Fleet). If you were deemed dangerous and in need of additional punishment, you could be sent to the dungeons, and you could pay to get out of that too!

So, if you were already in prison for not being able to pay your bills, how on earth could you afford to be in prison? The ways to earn money were numerous. Family and friends could provide you with gifts, which you could sell to the prison staff or other prisoners for money. You could stand by the grille on the Farringdon Street side and stick your hands out the windows to beg passersby for money. If you had any trade (shoemaker, pharmacist, minister), you could ply it in prison, and the other prisoners or visitors could pay you for it. The ministers in particular were in high demand to conduct rushed marriages (for people in the prison and for those in London). Before Parliament outlawed the practice in 1753, up to 100 couples were married near the Fleet every day!

And some people think a wedding chapel in Vegas is unromantic!