Good Gossip

[Thank you for your comments and congratulations on debut of The Rogue’s Reform! The winner of an autographed copy is Ettie! Please contact me via my website, and I’ll get that sent right out!]

Marissa and I have written about La Belle Assemblée many times. With articles on managing households, updates on advancements, and those all-important fashion forecasts, the publication served to educate and entertain. But one section, the Provincials column, could be the most interesting. It shared stories from around England: births, deaths, and marriages of famous people; important court cases; and legends in the making. Sometimes, though, it passed along juicy tidbits of gossip. Take these examples from the October 1810 edition:

• Mrs. Dicken, wife of Mr. Dicken, baker, Daventry, was lately delivered of three fine children. This birth has increased the family five in number in the course of twelve months and three days. The children are all well, and the mother in a fair way of recovery. It is somewhat singular likewise, that she was delivered by a blind Accoucheur [male midwife].



• Lately as Mr. J. Adams of Norwich, and Mr. J. Broad, of Drury-lane, were returning to the former place in a chaise, through the village of Thorpe, their horse having taken fright, ran the wheel of the chaise against a post, and they were both thrown out of the chaise with great violence. Mr. Broad at the time had a severe attack of the gout, but the shock being so sudden the gout immediately left him; he afterwards walked to Norwich, a distance of three miles, without the least inconvenience, excepting a few bruises, nor has he had the least symptom of gout since.



• A couple who had agreed to be married at a church near Lewes, set out from their home, accompanied by the bride-maids, etc. to have the ceremony performed; and had actually reached the church door, when a qualm of conscience, or some other qualm, occasioned the bride to change her mind, and she actually ran off, leaving the disappointed bride-groom, bride-maids, father, parson, and clerk, in a state of utter astonishment. The damsel, however, afterwards attended the altar and the indissoluble knot was tied.



• Married.—Lately, Mr. Thomas Wray, blacksmith, to Miss Susannah Hodgson, both of Wensleydale, in this county. The bridegroom has had the banns published with eighteen different females, and been twice married; this last marriage, however, was by license. He has for some time past gone on crutches, but was so elated with joy on this happy occasion, as to be able to lead his bride to the hymeneal altar with the assistance only of a walking-stick.

Hm. I think I’d prefer to stay out of that particular publication.

I Have It on Good Authority That . . .

We’re back! Well, almost. Marissa and I told you we’d take a little break this summer by reposting some of our past personal favorites. I’m actually getting a jump on September, because I finished my manuscript a few days early and I just had to celebrate with a new post. The Irresistible Earl is winging its way to my editor’s desk, and I am going to spend the next week reading, a treat I had to deny myself for awhile to get everything done. I’m halfway through The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor and loving every minute. I’m even going to splurge a little and go out to dinner with my husband at his favorite restaurant, Gustav’s in Leavenworth, Washington.

But if I were a young lady in nineteenth century England, I wouldn’t have to splurge on eating out. As long as I had a story to tell, I’d be welcome everywhere.

Remember this was a time before telephones, televisions, Internet, and many of the other sources of amusement and information we use today. One of the best ways to be entertained was to ask witty people to dine with you. And if they had a good story to tell, so much the better.

What kinds of stories? Well, some would have qualified for the evening news: disasters like fires or floods, crimes, and skirmishes with the enemy. “No, no, I swear to you, the Thames just swept them out to sea! You wouldn’t think a petticoat would act as a sail, would you?”

Celebrity sightings were also quite popular. “My dear, did I tell you I saw Prinny today? He was wearing a corset! I distinctly heard it creak. And what was he doing on Bond Street when he was supposed to be closeted with his ministers? I do believe it was his own closet he was furthering, if you take my meaning.”

Then there was family drama. “I have it on good authority that Lord and Lady Makebait intend to cut off their youngest son’s quarterly allowance. A bit too much of those funds made their way to the ponies and the ladies, and neither was particularly happy about the event.”

Or awards and honors. “Yes, and that’s how I was awarded the Grand Order of the Hippocampus Post Mentos, Second Degree.”

And romance. “I do believe an offer is imminent. Why else ask me what size shoes I wear?”

I teased Marissa that if this was the nineteenth century, I could dine out for a month on the story of how she won her latest literary award. What about you? What story would you tell if you have to sing for your supper?