A Brief Visit to the Seventeenth Century

I love “living history” museums—those amazing places where an attempt is made to re-create how life was lived in a specific time or place. In the US, Colonial Williamsburg is the grand-daddy of them all...but I’m lucky enough to live close to several others, and was even luckier last week to visit one of them with my dear friend and partner in blogging crime, Regina!

Living as we do on opposite sides of the country, any time spent together is precious— but getting to geek out at history together is even more awesome. And geek out we did, at Plimoth Plantation in Plymouth, Massachusetts, where reenactors strive to show how life was lived in the colony founded by the Pilgrims in 1620. (Check out their very informative website at www.plimoth.org)

When I say reenactors, I mean reenactors—the people dressed in early seventeenth century garb that you see in the houses cooking or repairing roofs or tending their gardens are in the personae of actual Plimoth inhabitants. They learn their person’s actual history down to the accent they probably spoke with, and then “become” that person...and don’t ever break character. It’s pretty cool to chat with them (though of course some people try to bait them out of their roles--but what fun is that?)

I’ve been to Plimoth Plantation several times before, and the neat thing is that every time I go, I learn something new. So what did I learn this time? 

• That the bundles of reeds that make up the thatching on thatched roofs are actually sewn to the rafters with big stitches—how cool is that? You just see how the thatch is sewn on in courses at my photo above.

• That not only jugs and bowls and plates were made from earthenware, but things like braziers to hold a small quantity of coals to cook over were as well—and worked quite well.

• That bayberry candles—candles made from the small, waxy berries of the bayberry shrub that grows copiously in coastal New England—were a later invention; the inhabitants of Plymouth made their candles from tallow and beeswax (bees were brought over not long after the first settlement.)

But the best thing I was reminded of? That true friendship cannot be dimmed by distance and absence.

R U There?

I recently read that textspeak--all those linguistic shortcuts like gr8 for great--are falling by the wayside as newer smartphones now feature miniscule QWERTY keyboards that remove the need to use txt abbreviations. It reminded me of this post which originally ran in November 2008.

I have to confess that I simply don’t care for txt. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m in love with words and with finding the precisely right one to communicate what I am thinking of. I’m sure Rebecca M’Nab Soul and I would have gotten along like a house afire.

Who was Rebecca M’Nab Soul? She was the author of an adorable little (literally little—it’s a dainty 3” by 4 ¾”) book called A New and Complete Letter Writer. I have the sixth edition, published in London in 1845. In her preface Ms. Soul states, “Of all the arts that have been discovered, and which have contributed to the benefit, refinement and happiness of man, the art of writing certainly ranks secondary to none; and of the varied species into which this art is modelled, there is none of greater utility and importance than the epistolary form.”

Okay, this probably sounds a little over-done to us…but think about it for a minute. How did people communicate when they weren’t face to face? There were no telephones in widespread use till very late in the 19th century, and no cellphones till more than a century after that. No computers, of course…and even the telegraph was only available well into mid-century and only for the briefest and most urgent communications. The only way to talk to your friends if they weren’t standing next to you was by letter.

And not only friends. Any business that wasn’t transacted face-to-face happened by letter…and here’s where Ms. Soul’s book comes in handy. It’s full of examples of letters to use in any situation, such as “Letter from a tradesman in distress, to his principal creditor, requesting time for payment” to “Letter from a young man wishing to commence business, to a rich relative”.

The most entertaining sections of the book, though, are the love letters.

Yes, love letters: Ms. Soul has examples of letters for (it seems) almost every romantic situation. How about a “Letter from a young lady to a gentleman who courts her, whom she suspects of infidelity” (“I desire to know, Sir, what sort of acquaintance you can wish to have with another person of character, after making me believe that you wished to be married to me.”)?

Or a “Letter from a lady to a gentleman, in answer to a dishonourable proposal” (“Had any part of my conduct authorized the infamous proposal you have had the audacity to make, I should die with shame; but my conscious innocence supports me, and teaches me to scorn your baseness.”)?

Or a “Letter from a gentleman to a young lady, proposing an elopement”? (“Distracted at the thought of not being enabled to accomplish my wish of making you my own, since I have exercised all the wit and ingenuity of which I am master, in endeavouring to elicit a consent from the impenetrable heart of my guardian, without effect; I am tempted to make a proposal, which from its hazardous and delicate nature, I am bound to preface with no ordinary caution, lest by too abruptly importing it, I should seal my own doom by the loss of her, for whom I would risk every danger to gain the possession.”)

Hmm. After trying to make my way through that sentence, maybe txt doesn't look too bad after all.

R U There?

I have to confess that I simply don’t care for txt. Call me old-fashioned, but I’m in love with words and with finding the precisely right one to communicate what I am thinking of. I’m sure Rebecca M’Nab Soul and I would have gotten along like a house afire.

Who was Rebecca M’Nab Soul? She was the author of an adorable little (literally little—it’s a dainty 3” by 4 ¾”) book called A New and Complete Letter Writer. I have the sixth edition, published in London in 1845. In her preface Ms. Soul states, “Of all the arts that have been discovered, and which have contributed to the benefit, refinement and happiness of man, the art of writing certainly ranks secondary to none; and of the varied species into which this art is modelled, there is none of greater utility and importance than the epistolary form.”

Okay, this probably sounds a little over-done to us…but think about it for a minute. How did people communicate when they weren’t face to face? There were no telephones in widespread use till very late in the 19th century, and no cellphones till more than a century after that. No computers, of course…and even the telegraph was only available well into mid-century and only for the briefest and most urgent communications. The only way to talk to your friends if they weren’t standing next to you was by letter.

And not only friends. Any business that wasn’t transacted face-to-face happened by letter…and here’s where Ms. Soul’s book comes in handy. It’s full of examples of letters to use in any situation, such as “Letter from a tradesman in distress, to his principal creditor, requesting time for payment” to “Letter from a young man wishing to commence business, to a rich relative”.

The most entertaining sections of the book, though, are the love letters. Yes, love letters: Ms. Soul has examples of letters for (it seems) almost every romantic situation. How about a “Letter from a young lady to a gentleman who courts her, whom she suspects of infidelity” (“I desire to know, Sir, what sort of acquaintance you can wish to have with another person of character, after making me believe that you wished to be married to me.”)? Or a “Letter from a lady to a gentleman, in answer to a dishonourable proposal” (“Had any part of my conduct authorized the infamous proposal you have had the audacity to make, I should die with shame; but my conscious innocence supports me, and teaches me to scorn your baseness.”)? Or a “Letter from a gentleman to a young lady, proposing an elopement”? (“Distracted at the thought of not being enabled to accomplish my wish of making you my own, since I have exercised all the wit and ingenuity of which I am master, in endeavouring to elicit a consent from the impenetrable heart of my guardian, without effect; I am tempted to make a proposal, which from its hazardous and delicate nature, I am bound to preface with no ordinary caution, lest by too abruptly importing it, I should seal my own doom by the loss of her, for whom I would risk every danger to gain the possession.”)

Hmm. After trying to make my way through that sentence, maybe txt doesn't look too bad after all.

Cool History Resources No. 1

Because I like the idea of ongoing series in this blog (gee, could you guess?) I'm starting a new one.

As a writer of historical fiction, I'm deeply addicted to non-fiction books about my favorite times and places...and nineteenth century England would, of course, be at the top of that list. Recently I found a wonderful book perfect for anyone interested in how nineteenth century English children (and teens) lived: Making Victorians: The Drummond Children's World 1827-1832, by Susan Lasdun (Victor Gollancz Ltd, 1983).

The Drummond family, though not noble itself, was nevertheless highly connected to several aristocratic families and comfortably wealthy--Papa Drummond was great-grandson of the founder of Drummond's Bank and a partner in his own right. His eight children (seven daughters and one son) were a lively crew, with somewhat odd names (most of the girls had hyphenated names like Emily-Susan and Agnes-Priscilla)...but most importantly, several of them loved to draw and paint. They left hundreds of charming sketches and water-colors of their daily life, showing everything from them at their lessons (and being reprimanded if they didn't know them!) to playing charades with such distinguished guests as Lord Palmerston, to strolling in the garden. We get to see the rooms of their house depicted over and over again in different scenes (and begin to recongnize the furniture, draperies, and rugs), the amazing dresses and hats of the era (remember some of those prints I showed you?), the servants and guests, the games they played and the dances they practiced with the drawing room rug rolled up...life up close and personal, one hundred and eighty years ago.

The text, while a little outshone by the delightful sketches, nevertheless is lively and informative, and covers children's education, leisure time, clothing, servants, and even punishment and correction (several watercolors show several of the girls refusing to wear backboards to help improve their posture and being scolded!). An interesting fact to keep in mind is that these children were the exact contemporaries of Princess Victoria, as the text frequently observes (all eight were born between 1810 and 1820), and activities mentioned in her diaries can be seen in these sketches.

Where to find it: It's out of print, sadly. Try your local library, local used book store, or an on-line used book vendor. I recently found my copy on Amazon for just a little over ten dollars.