Cattle Call, Updated

I originally published this post in October 2009, but a couple of interesting tidbits came my way this week, which warranted an update.

Tattersall’s Repository was in the nineteenth century and still is Britain’s foremost auction house for horses (called cattle in that day). And not just any cattle. The description of the drawing from the early nineteenth century states, “Cart and agricultural horses are seldom offered for sale at this place, as the purchasers who attend here are devoted rather to the pursuit of pleasure than of business.”  

Founded in 1766 by Richard Tattersall, formerly a groom of the Duke of Kingston, and operated in the nineteenth century by his son, apparently also Richard, Tattersall’s was the place you went to purchase a saddle horse, carriage horse, hunters (horses you rode while hunting), and racehorses. They also auctioned carriages and coach-harness and hounds. It was located on the south side of Hyde Park Corner until 1865, when it relocated to even bigger digs near Knightsbridge Green. It is still in business in Newmarket. While many a Regency romance has called it Tattersall’s, the group itself has stopped using the possessive. https://www.tattersalls.com/

The space included stables and a central circle for checking out the horses and giving them a try. See the folly in the center? The bust on top is of Prinny, the Prince of Wales.

But the idea wasn’t just to buy a horse back then. A young gentleman might go to Tattersall’s even when it wasn’t a sale day on Monday or Thursday, just to be seen around “sporting” types. Tattersall’s was the home of the Jockey Club, the body that makes the rules for England’s races, so you were sure to run into people famous in the racing world. Then too, for about a pound a year, you could buy a subscription to a private room at Tattersall’s, where you could settle your bets. You see, true gentlemen didn’t carry sums of cash to the track. They met at Tattersall’s a few days later and settled their debts. So you could look like you were wealthy and privileged just by hanging around. 

Approximately 100 horses a week passed “under the hammer” of the auctioneer. Saddle horses cost 40 to 200 pounds, a pair of coach horses from 150 to 420 pounds, outstanding hunters around 350 pounds, and racehorses 1,500 pounds.

Think you’d like to purchase one? Think again. Women were not welcome at Tatt’s. You’d have to send a male agent if you wanted to purchase one of the prime bits of blood there. Or even a horse.

Iceland, Part One: Gasping for Breath

You don’t mind if...I just...sit down here...for a few minutes and...catch my breath.

You see, Iceland totally took it away.

We had an amazing ten days wandering over the western half of this craggy realm of ice and fire and water in the north Atlantic—and you know what? If someone handed me an airline ticket, I’d be back there in a heartbeat. I mean, this was one of the places we visited on our first day--a whole series of cold springs emerging from under a lava field to tumble into a river of astonishing clarity.

Gorgeous... but this was only the beginning. There’s falling water everywhere on the island, either in waterfalls or in rivers or glaciers (that's Snaefellsjokull in the photo) or from the sky (though we had a streak of unusually warm and sunny weather that belied Iceland’s rainy and foggy reputation.)

And there are also volcanoes everywhere. What look like mountains covering much of the landscape are actually volcanoes of various ages, some long dormant, others overdue to let off some steam...or a whole lotta lava. 

Iceland is situated on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, which is actually the border between gigantic, continent-sized tectonic plates. The North American Plate makes up the northwestern part of the island and the Eurasian Plate the southwest...and they’re pulling away from each other at the rate of about two centimeters per year. This is the source of the island’s volcanic unrest—and means that Iceland is actually getting bigger (sometimes a lot bigger when volcanoes spew out thousands of cubic yards of lava and fill in bays or form new islands like Surtsey. In the rift zone between the two plates you can actually see the land pulling apart as in this photo.

And of course, the country is steeped in history. Iceland’s first human inhabitants were the Vikings who arrived in the 9^th century—there was no indigenous population, as Greenland had. So the Icelanders of today are in general the direct descendants of those first settlers...and the memory of their ancestors remains strong today in Iceland’s culture and geography and language. Iceland was a literate society almost from its founding; the thousand-year-old Icelandic sagas are still read and discussed by today’s Icelanders; archaeological investigations successfully use them as a guidebook.

We took hundreds of pictures that we’re just sorting out, so I’m not going to embark on a full recounting of our visit until I’ve been through the images and pulled out the best ones. There was so much beauty and wonder in the places that we visited that I want to do them justice. But here’s a few more to go on with...

Icelandic horses at Gauksmyri farm. These horses are the descendants of the horses first brought by the Vikings; it's illegal to import horses into the island, to preserve their unique bloodline (and unusual gaits--Icelandic horses have five distinct ways of moving.)

Columnar basalt formations on the south coast at Reynisfara near Vik, looking rather like a phantasma-gorical pipe organ.

Bubbling blue mud at Namaskard. It was a lovely shade of robin's egg blue, due to ferrous iron deposits.









The breathtaking terraced double waterfall at Gullfoss:

 

I promise I’ll be posting more images and more about my trip... 

As soon as I can breathe again.

1810, What a Year It Was: The Derby

One of the big events of the London social season didn’t actually take place in London at all, but twenty-ish miles south of the metropolis, in the small town of Epsom located on the rolling, grass-covered terrain of the North Downs. I am speaking, of course, of the Epsom Derby, the undisputed Queen of horse races.

Epsom was known first as a spa town—the source of the purgative Epsom Salts—beginning early in the 17^th century, and the infirm (and not-so-infirm) of London and beyond tottered there throughout the next decades to drink the water from one particular spring. Horse-racing was first mentioned as taking place there early in the century—perhaps as a pastime for the healthy young members of families who accompanied older relatives visiting the spring. I can totally understand the attraction of galloping across the miles of open, green grassland! During Cromwell’s time racing was forbidden, but was back in force when King Charles II regained his throne; Samuel Pepys noted a visit there during which he saw Nell Gwyn, the king’s cockney mistress, having a merry time, and the King himself often attended races. By the 1680s there was an official course clerk, and fifty years later, twice-yearly race meetings were taking place.

Then, in 1778, the Earl of Derby (that's him at left) and a group of friends including Sir Charles Bunbury, the playwright Richard Sheridan, and politician Charles James Fox, hatched the idea of a new race for three-year-old fillies, over one and a half miles (most races at Epsom were in the two-to-four mile range), naming it The Oaks, after Lord Derby’s nearby house. In 1780 they added a second race, for both colts and fillies, over one mile (soon expanded to one and a half); Lord Derby and Sir Charles flipped a coin for the honor of naming this new race, and Derby won the toss—and so The Derby was born. Sir Charles probably wasn't too upset—his colt Diomed became the Derby's first winner.

The races soon became popular; several shorter races over the course of the meet made for more excitement among the viewers (and thus more bets placed!), which of course had the effect of drawing more than just the racing crowd, so that eventually a sort of country fair atmosphere took over, which in turn drew more crowds (helped by the location’s proximity to London.) A verse declaims,

On Epson Downs, when racing does begin

Large companies from every part come in.

Tag-rag and Bob-tail, Lords and Ladies meet,

And Squires without Estates, each other greet.

Bets upon bets; this man says, ‘Ten to one.’

Another pointing cries, ‘Good sir, tis done.’

Our friend Prinny, the Prince Regent, was one of those spectators; in the 1790s he built the first permanent structure at Epsom, the Prince’s Stand (a larger grandstand would finally be built in the 1830s). By the Regency, the Derby was an established “event” of the season, and an audience of thirty to forty thousand was the norm.

1810’s Derby, run on June 7, was no exception, drawing the usual hordes of racing enthusiasts from the lowest to the highest. What set it apart was the horse who would win that day, a three-year-old colt with “the lowest and longest, and most-double jointed horse, with the best legs...and worst feet I ever saw in my life," according to his groom.

Whalebone, owned by the Duke of Grafton, was running only his second formal race ever; he’d won the Newmarket Stakes just the month before. But despite his unprepossessing looks, he was a grandson (grandcolt?) of the mighty sire Eclipse, and went out favored to win...and win he did, leading the field throughout the race. Though his subsequent career was a checkered one, with a pattern of grand wins followed by disappointing losses then back to wins, his greatest victories came after he retired to stud: he was the progenitor of champions straight through into the 20th century and beyond—not bad for a horse described by a contemporary as “shabby”!

The Proper Ladies Mount

I truly enjoyed the guest posts from Shannon Donnelly last week, especially because the proposal I’m writing involves a baron who raises horses.  My heroine is easily one of the most typical aristocratic females I’ve ever written.  She’d be the nineteenth century equivalent of Barbie if she hadn’t decided to throw off some of the shackles her parents have put upon her and discover what she’s made of.  But given that her father would have picked a horse for her, I was interested to see what sort of creature he might have chosen.  What exactly was considered a ladies mount in the early nineteenth century?

 

Thank the Lord for The Young Lady’s Equestrian Manual. It’s a very handy little book, published in 1838 and lovingly recreated in e-book form complete with the original illustrations.  It tells a young lady the history of riding, the proper terms to use for one’s horse (“A horse is never spoken of as being so many hands tall, but so many hands high.”), what to wear when riding, and how to ride.  It also describes the type of horse to look for.

The writer acknowledges that finding the perfect lady’s horse isn’t easy.  It seems a proper lady’s mount should be

 

• Superlatively elegant in form
• Exquisitely fine in coat
• Unexceptionably beautiful in color
• Of a height to compliment its rider
• Graceful and completely safe in every pace
• “Light as a feather” in the hand
• Bold in the extreme yet superlatively docile
• Free of vice and excellent in temper
• Gentle, but not dull
• Rarely requiring the use of the whip but submitting temperately to it when needed.

Such a paragon!  But the requirements don’t stop there.  Here’s the description of what to look for in the animal:

“The head should be small, neat, ‘well-set’ on the neck, and gracefully ‘carried.’ The nostrils should be wide; the eyes large, rather protruding, dark, yet brilliant; the ears erect, and delicately tapering towards their tips. The expression of the countenance should be lively, animated, noble, and most highly intelligent; the neck rather arched and muscular; the ridge of the shoulders narrow and elevated; the chest full and fleshy; the back broad; the body, round or barrel-like; the space between the hips and tail, long, and very gradually depressed towards the latter organ, which, it is essential, should be based high on the croup. The fore and hind limbs should be distant, the one pair from the other; the “arms” muscular; the knees broad, the hocks (laterally) wide; the legs flat and sinewy; the pasterns rather long; and the hoofs large, and nearly round.”

Got all that?  In addition, ladies are advised to look for a smooth, brilliantly polished coat and the proper manes and tails. 

“The mane, if too long and thick, will interfere with that delicate management of the reins so desirable to a lady on horseback; and the tail, if of immoderate length, will, by the animal’s whisking it towards his sides, prove inconvenient to the fair rider, at all times; but, especially so, in dirty weather. Neither of these appendages, however, on the other hand, should be ungracefully brief or scanty.”

And as for color, the writer insists that the best color is bright bay with mane, tail, and lower parts of the legs black.  A few specks of white is fine, but too much is undesirable.  A chestnut comes second, with no white on the legs.  Gray is tolerable, particularly a silver gray with black mane and tail.  Brown and black are deemed too dull.  And roan, sorrel, dun, piebald, mouse, and cream are “to be eschewed.”

It seems to me the choosing of a horse is as much a character statement as a fashion statement!

A Leg Up, Part II: Riding Habits, Mounting, and Dismounting by Guest Blogger Shannon Donnelly

Please welcome back the delightful author and horsewoman, Shannon Donnelly, for more on how young ladies rode in the early nineteenth century. 

On a comfortable horse, riding side saddle soon begins to feel a bit like riding a padded rocking chair. It's far less tiring than riding astride, for the only effort is to sit straight and still. It is also amazingly comfortable to let the right leg rest on the horse's shoulder (the right foot actually rests a bit forward of the horse's left shoulder).

But to look elegant in a side saddle, you need a riding habit with a long skirt that makes it appear as if you “flow” into the horse.

Riding Habits

The riding habit had to be cut so that it draped down over the horse's side, coving ankle and boot. This drape required that a loop also be attached to the hem, so that, when dismounted, a lady could gather up the extra length of skirt.

The skirt has always been designed to facilitate both mounting and riding. It is either a full skirt, usually cut with a drape on the left; or a wrapped skirt is worn over pantaloons (which came into fashion around the early 1800's). Because of the cut, as you mount, the skirt falls into its natural position, covering the legs to the ankle. In the saddle, the skirt is forgotten. On the ground, a loop over the wrist keeps the draping skirt out of mud and dust.

A skirted riding habit is neither difficult to wear, nor are they heavy and cumbersome. The fabric is usually a heavy cotton or twill. A habit provides any woman with a long stride as much freedom as breeches (and more than a fashionable round dress of the era would offer). Having worn both, I should always prefer a habit and can well understand the country ladies who wore little else.

A lady would also need a whip (to cue the horse on the right or “off” side since she would not have a leg on that side), gloves, hat, and possibly a spur (if she had a sluggish mount).

However, the important factor in riding side saddle is the horse: a comfortable stride and good manners are essential.

A Lady's Mount

The perfect side saddle horse is a smooth gaited horse with a light mouth (preferably not too tall). In other words, you want a comfortable ride.

While it is possible to rise to the trot (post) side saddle, some claim that this is the real cause of giving a side saddle horse a sore back as it requires too much weight to be put into the left stirrup.

Getting Up and Down Again

A rider traditionally mounts from the left. The rider stands at the horse's shoulder, facing the horse's hind quarters (or haunch). With the right hand, the rider turns the stirrup iron sideways. The left foot goes into the stirrup. The rider may grasp the cantle or back of the saddle with the right hand. He then pushes himself off the ground with the right foot, transferring his weight to the left foot in the stirrup and pushing himself into the saddle. Swinging the right leg over the horse's back, the rider lands lightly in the seat.

However, a lady's side saddle requires a slight alteration in the standard mounting and dismounting method.

The reins are still held in the left hand. The lady stands facing the horse, or even slightly forward. She also holds the reins and whip in her left hand. Taking the stirrup iron in her right hand to hold it steady, she places her left foot in the iron. With her foot in the iron, she can reach up to hold the saddle. As she hops up, her weight goes to the left foot in the iron and she leverages her weight up. However, instead of swinging her leg over the horse, she pulls her right leg up in front of her and seats herself sideways in the saddle. She then can settle herself with the right leg over the top pommel, the left under the left pommel and in the stirrup.

A groom (or a gentleman) can also give a "leg up" to a lady. However, in the Regency, no man, groom or otherwise, would dare to be so bold as to take a lady by the waist. Instead, he would make a stirrup from his hands. He then holds his hands low enough to allow the lady to easily step into them with her left foot. The groom boosts the lady lightly into the saddle.

(I've seen riders tossed over a horse by too strong a boost, to the smothered laughter of everyone except the rider.)

When a groom is unavailable, a mounting block can help and will keep a side saddle from slipping. This can be a block about two feet in height, or a fallen tree or bank can serve the same purpose of giving the rider a little extra elevation to easily step into the stirrup and swing up.

The dismount is easy. To get off the horse, a lady unhooks her right leg, takes her left foot out of the stirrup and slips off. But, if she has any sense, she only does this if she's certain she can get back on again.

~~~ 

Shannon Donnelly’s writing has won numerous awards, including a RITA nomination for Best Regency; the Grand Prize in the "Minute Maid Sensational Romance Writer" contest, judged by Nora Roberts; RWA's Golden Heart; and others. Her writing has repeatedly earned 4½ Star Top Pick reviews from RT Book Reviews magazine, as well as praise from Booklist and other reviewers, who note: "simply superb"..."wonderfully uplifting"....and "beautifully written."

Her Regency romances, including A Dangerous Compromise, can be found as ebooks on all formats, and include four novellas now out as a collection with Cool Gus Publishing.

Her Regency Novella, Border Bride, can be found as an ebook, or in print in her collection of Regency Novellas.  You can learn more about her on her website and blog.

A special thanks to her from Marissa and Regina for sharing her expertise with Nineteenteen.

A Leg Up, Part I: Side Saddle, by Guest Blogger Shannon Donnelly

Riding was such an important part of a young lady's life in the nineteenth century that Marissa and I thought a post or two was in order.  We'd like to welcome the wonderful author and horsewoman Shannon Donnelly today and Friday as she shares her knowledge and experiences with riding in the Regency period.

The horse was a vital part of everyday nineteenth century life, but few of us today have such an intimate acquaintance with that lovely animal.  What does it actually feel like to ride side saddle?

The English saddle has changed little in its appearance over the past two hundred years. The major change came at the end of the nineteenth century when the modern “Forward Seat” was invented and the saddle flap began to be cut forward, or over a horse's shoulder (allowing a shorter stirrup). In the 1800s, riders sat very straight in the saddle, leaning back when jumping fences, as seen in hunting prints of the era. This was true for both men riding astride and women riding aside.

However, the side saddle has changed quite a bit since the early nineteenth century in England.

The Side Saddle

The earliest “side saddles” date back to the Middle Ages, when a woman literally rode facing sideways. A lady back then would ride a palfrey, a very smooth gaited horse, and would be led by a groom. Over the decades this saddle evolved to allow a lady to sit facing forward in a true side saddle.

Prior to 1835, a side saddle had only one or two pommels. One pommel or horn turned up to support the right leg. And some side saddles had a second pommel which turned down over the left leg.

Modern side saddles now have a third “leaping” horn that can twist to help hold the upper leg in place—but this was not around during the early nineteenth century. This third horn can help riders who are jumping over fences, but most ladies, even those who fox hunted, chose to go through gates instead of jumping fences.

Modern views make it seem as if riding side saddle must be awkward and uncomfortable (What! You have both legs on one side of the horse, and none on the other). Actually, side saddles can be very comfortable and secure.

Betty Skelton, author of Side Saddle Riding, found that....“As a teenager in the 1920s, side saddle riding was second nature to me. I found it comfortable and I did not fall off as often as I had done from a cross saddle.” In teaching side saddle, Ms. Skelton has found that a beginner rider can often be comfortably cantering during her first lesson—that’s not likely when riding astride.

The side saddle requires the rider to sit with a straight back and with hips and shoulders absolutely even. Slightly more weight should be carried on the right hip to compensate for the weight of both legs on the left. Any tilting to one side, leaning or twisting eventually results in a horse with a sore back.

Side saddles have a broad, flat, and comfortably padded seat. The right leg goes over a padded leather branch which turns up (the top pommel). The left leg is in a stirrup that is short enough to bring it firmly up against a second pommel which turns down. If the horse plays up at all, you clamp both legs together, gripping these horns to stay on the horse.

So how do you mount, dismount, and otherwise look good in a side saddle? Come back Friday to find out!

~~~

Shannon Donnelly’s writing has won numerous awards, including a RITA nomination for Best Regency; the Grand Prize in the "Minute Maid Sensational Romance Writer" contest, judged by Nora Roberts; RWA's Golden Heart; and others. Her writing has repeatedly earned 4½ Star Top Pick reviews from RT Book Reviews magazine, as well as praise from Booklist and other reviewers, who note: "simply superb"..."wonderfully uplifting"....and "beautifully written."

Her Regency romances, including A Dangerous Compromise, can be found as ebooks on all formats, and include four novellas now out as a collection with Cool Gus Publishing.

Her Regency Novella, Border Bride, can be found as an ebook, or in print in her collection of Regency Novellas.  Learn more about her on her blog/website.

Where the Boys Were: The Four-Horse Club

Some things never change, and one of those is the preoccupation of young men with going very fast. We already know that fast, “sexy” vehicles are not a modern phenomenon: today’s Porsche was the 19th century’s high-perch phaeton-and-four.

So where were the boys of the 19th century who liked to go fast?

It seems to have been a not-uncommon event for dashing young men who fancied they knew a thing or two about “handling the ribbons’—that is, driving a team of horses—to bribe coach drivers to let them have a go at driving stagecoaches (much to the dismay of the passengers!) So popular was this pastime in the 18th century that one group of well-born hell-raisers started calling themselves “the Four-Horse Club”.

Fortunately for the poor stagecoach passengers of a few years later, young men decided that driving their own coaches might be more amusing (though it was still fashionable to imitate professional drivers in dress and, alas, in use of profanity), and in 1807 a group of them founded the Bensington Driving Club (BDC) in Bensington, Oxfordshire. Because membership in that club was limited to 25, a second driving club was established a year later and took over the name of Four-Horse Club (FHC). Membership was limited by several things—birth and social standing, ability to afford to belong, and, of course, driving skill. To be asked to join one of these very exclusive clubs was an enormous honor.

Members of these clubs gathered somewhere in London (the Four-Horse Club in Cavendish Square), then drove in procession to a pub some 20 miles from the city where they would dine, then drive back the following day. The Four-Horse Club used to alternate its destination between two pubs until one of them distinguished itself one hot summer’s afternoon by providing a change of chairs part-way through dinner, so that members might cool their posteriors!

The rules of the Four-Horse Club were very strict: only barouches were permitted, painted yellow; harnesses had to be silver-mounted, and horses (originally bays, though this rule was relaxed) had to wear rosettes. Drivers wore coats that reached to the ankles with three tiers of pockets and mother of pearl buttons as large as five shilling pieces. Their waistcoats were blue with yellow stripes an inch wide, their breeches of plush with strings and rosettes to each knee. It was fashionable that the hat should be 3 1/2 inches deep in the crown. Very strict, too, were the rules of the bi-weekly outings held in May and June: the order of the procession was always the same, and members were to keep to a strict trot and not attempt to pass each other. No drag-racing for these boys!

Cattle Call

We’ve devoted considerable attention to how the young ladies of quality would have spent their time in nineteenth century London: paying calls, shopping, attending various balls and routs. But what were the young gentlemen doing? Well, on most Mondays and Thursdays, you could find a great many of them at Tattersall’s.

Tattersall’s Repository was then and still is Britain’s foremost auction house for horses (called cattle in those day). And not just any cattle. The description of the drawing from the early nineteenth century states, “Cart and agricultural horses are seldom offered for sale at this place, as the purchasers who attend here are devoted rather to the pursuit of pleasure than of business.”

Founded in 1773 by Richard Tattersall and operated in the nineteenth century by his son, apparently also Richard, Tattersall’s was the place you went to purchase a saddle horse, carriage horse, hunters (horses you rode while hunting), and racehorses. They also auctioned carriages and coach-harness and hounds. It was located on the south side of Hyde Park Corner until 1865, when it relocated to even bigger digs near Knightsbridge Green.

But the idea wasn’t just to buy a horse. A young gentleman might go to Tattersall’s even when it wasn’t a sale day on Monday or Thursday, just to be seen around “sporting” types. Tattersall’s was the home of the Jockey Club, the body that makes the rules for England’s races, so you were sure to run into people famous in the racing world. Then too, for about a pound a year, you could buy a subscription to a private room at Tattersall’s, where you could settle your bets. You see, true gentlemen didn’t carry sums of cash to the track. They met at Tattersall’s a few days later and settled their debts. So you could look like you were wealthy and privileged just by hanging around.

Approximately 100 horses a week passed “under the hammer” of the auctioneer. Saddle horses cost 40 to 200 pounds , a pair of coach horses from 150 to 420 pounds, outstanding hunters around 350 pounds, and racehorses 1,500 pounds.

Think you’d like to purchase one? Think again. Women were not welcome at Tatt’s. You’d have to send a male agent if you wanted to purchase one of the prime bits of blood there. Or even a horse.

Amusements in London: Astley's Amphitheatre

Okay, so my heroine didn’t jump out the window. She thought about it. She even opened the sash and sat on the sill, but the hero intervened before she could screw her courage to the sticking point. So, all is right with the world.

One of the suggestions from our birthday celebration for topics on Nineteen Teen was games and activities as well as cultural institutions for young ladies. I’m not entirely sure Astley’s Amphitheatre would be considered a cultural institution, but it was certainly one of the most popular places in London for young people.

Astley’s Amphitheatre, located on Westminster Bridge Road, Lambeth, was a magical place where amazing things happened, with horses. As you can see from the picture, it boasted an arena and, at 130 feet wide, the largest stage in England at the time. Built in 1784, it held its first show on Easter and its last in October or November each year. Surrounded by 16 small chandeliers, audiences in the three tiers of seating watched while the huge center glass chandelier with 50 lamps was lowered each night through an opening in the ceiling. And as the music from the full orchestra soared, out came the horses.

Astley called his events spectacles, and it certainly sounds like they were, with trick riders, clowns, troops of horses swirling in battle formation, even a horse race and a fox hunt staged in the arena to the calls of “Tally ho!” from the audience. In 1807, he taught eight horses to do country dances, a sight that was so astonishing to his audience that it was replayed in over 100 performances.

Sounds like my idea of fun.

More of those Nineteen Reasons

Thanks so much for writing in with your comments on what you love about the Nineteenth Century and what you'd like to see us discuss in NineteenTeen--keep them coming! Don't forget that doing so enters you into drawings for a $25 Barnes & Noble gift card or a genuine 19th century fashion print.

So here are a few more reasons why I love the nineteenth century...

7. The Manners. So maybe having to remember to curtsey to your elders and social superiors and always speak and carry yourself gently and quietly in public could feel restrictive to young women. But it also meant that in general, people didn't behave badly in public. Is that a fair trade-off? Would you prefer the more formal manners of the past? I know I would...


8. Horses. Say what you like about hot cars, but honestly, they're soulless things made in factories and one looks pretty much like another in my eyes. Horses on the other hand are individuals with personalities and differences and strengths and weaknesses that add a layer to life that we no longer have, for better or worse. And at least their emissions can be recycled.

9. Hats. I suppose that this could go under "the gorgeous clothes for women" category, but there's more to it than that. Hats are meta-clothes: they have their own language that can reinforce or give lie to the messages given by a dress or coat. A fluffy hat worn with a demure dress can give the message that the wearer has hidden depths, for example. It can flirt by giving a glimpse of partly concealed locks of hair or gracefully accenting the face, or cover up bad hair days. Women lost something when hats went out of fashion.

10. Jane Austen. I made the mistake of trying to read Pride and Prejudice when I was twelve, and didn't get past the first chapter. Even though I was a very advanced reader, I just didn't get it. But when I read it at seventeen, I realized how wonderfully funny it was and read all the other Jane stories as quickly as possible. Don't pick up a Jane Austen novel expecting something big and dramatic and passionate like Wuthering Heights (though Persuasion is a beautifully romantic story). Read it for the quiet, ironical humor and the finely drawn characters and the glimpse into nineteenth century life. If you're not a total history geek, look for a foot-noted edition that explains some of the more obscures references--it will deepen your appreciation of the humor and give you a better picture of 19th century life. Jane was one of the first authors EVER to write about ordinary people and ordinary things and yet make them totally fascinating. That's not only very important for literature as a whole, but also very cool.

What do you think?

Horsing Around, Part II: Good Habits

Last week we discussed horses and carriages and guys driving too fast (and probably not asking directions). This time, I’d like to talk about the other side of horsing around: riding.

As you might have guessed from looking at the clothes, there weren't many forms of physical activity or exercise that women and girls in the 1800s could do and still be thought proper--so if you’ve always hated gym, you were probably born in the wrong century. One of the few (I’ll talk about the others in a future post) was riding.

Again, we’re speaking relatively here. Grooms and stablehands did all the horse care and saddling and so on, which is half of what makes riding such great exercise. All an upper class nineteenth century girl had to do was amble down to the stables and climb aboard…after she’d changed into the proper costume, of course. You couldn’t wear something frothy made of silk and lace when you were about to gallop around the muddy countryside on horseback, so you wore a riding habit.

A riding habit was generally made of a sturdy fabric like wool broadcloth, trimmed maybe with little luxurious touches like a velvet collar or a fine linen stock (high neckcloth, like a man’s cravat). It generally consisted of a skirt and coat, cut very form-fitting. A hat, often copied from a man’s style but with a veil added in, and gloves completed the costume. Pantaloons were worn underneath it for modesty’s sake in case (horrors!) you fell off, and the skirt was cut with extra fabric so it draped nicely when you were settled into your sidesaddle.

Yes, sidesaddle. Women in polite society did not ride astride. Sidesaddles have a sort of crook that you hook one leg over while the other has a stirrup. It sounds more precarious than it actually is, and many, many women were quite dashing riders.

Horseback riding was not just for country life. A favorite activity for elegant young women during the London Season was riding in Hyde Park, either on the sandy path known as “Rotten Row” or on the Ladies’ Mile. A morning ride was a fabulous way to see and be seen (remember, you were wearing that very handsome and figure-revealing habit), gossip with friends and flirt with the boys, and make plans for afternoon shopping or evening partying. Horsing around, indeed!

Horsing Around, Part I: Tilburys, Broughams, Cabriolets, Curricles, Landaus, Phaetons, and Barouches

During most of the nineteenth century, everyone horsed around.

And I mean that quite literally. If you wanted to go somewhere, chances were you used a horse to either ride or to draw a cart or carriage of some sort.

Relying on horses for transportation meant several things. It meant you had to have a place for them to live (stables and a paddock). You had to have people to take care of them (grooms and stable boys) and appropriate food and care (proper shoeing and veterinary care when necessary). And you had to have means to actually use them, like saddles and tack or a carriage…which in turn necessitated having coachmen and other staff.

As you might guess, having your own horses and carriage meant you were probably at least semi-wealthy--and the more horses and carriages you owned, the wealthier you were. Having an elegant carriage and matched horses to draw it (grays were the most popular carriage horses) was the nineteenth century version of having a Lexus or a Mercedes in the garage. Those who couldn’t afford to keep their own horse and carriage could rent one when necessary, usually from a local inn or a livery stable.

Relying on horses to get around also meant that you didn’t just up and hop on your horse to go to the mall or out for pizza on a whim…because it takes a while to get a horse saddled or hitched up to a carriage. It also meant that if you were traveling a long distance with your own horses, you could only go as far and as fast in a day as the road conditions would allow…and stop for the night when the horses were tired. Alternately, you could travel longer distances more quickly on the system of stage coaches that traveled between most of the major cities and towns of England, stopping at special coaching inns to change horses periodically.

Carriages came in many forms, and different styles went in and out of fashion over the years. They could seat as few as two or as many as six, could have two or four wheels, be drawn by one, two, or four horses, be open to the air or completely enclosed. A wealthy young man in the 1820s trying to impress the girls might drive a curricle, a small open two-wheeled, two-horse vehicle, or a tilbury (similar but drawn by one horse). His parents would have a handsomely-painted barouche, a closed carriage with four wheels that seated four passengers plus a footman or two hanging on in the back and perhaps also a cabriolet or phaeton that they could drive themselves.

Coaching was also something of a hobby for wealthy young men. Someone who was skilled in the “noble art of handling the ribbons” wasn’t doing his sisters’ hair wraps, but was an exceptionally skilled coachman ("ribbons" was slang for reins). Young men being remarkably unchanged over the centuries, coaching generally meant racing…and, of course, betting on those races. The Prince of Wales himself was known in his younger days as a keen coachman, frequently trying to shave precious minutes off his record traveling between Brighton and London.

By the 1840s rail transport began to boom and eventually replaced the stage coaches, and later on in the 1890s inventors tinkered with engine-driven cars, but the horse was pretty much it for most of the nineteenth century.

Next week: Horsing Around, Part II: Good Habits