Stolen for a Song?

It’s the beginning of the month, which means it is time for the next installment in the Ladies of Almack’s series, Lyrics and Larceny.

In Lyrics and Larceny, we meet Lady Patroness and shadow-shaper Annabel Fellbridge’s cousin Hartley, who has been shaken from his self-absorbed ways by Demetria Pouli, a bewitching Greek soprano who is taking London by storm. When a rash of jewel thefts seems to accompany her recitals, Annabel fears Demetria may not be what she seems. As it happens, she isn’t—but a happily-ever-after for Hartley and Demetria isn’t necessarily out of the question, thanks to the Ladies of Almack’s…

I’ve made use of my fondness for classical mythology in this story, as you will see…and have dropped a few hints that another figure from classical mythology—a little boy equipped with bow and arrows—might be making an appearance soon. I hope you’ll enjoy this latest story in the series: it’s light-hearted fun for not-so-light-hearted times.

Lyrics and Larceny can be purchased directly from the publisher, Book View Café, in both EPUB and MOBI formats as well as from all the usual online bookstore outlets. Print versions can be found at Barnes and Noble and Amazon. (affiliate links may be used)

Book View Cafe

Barnes and Noble

Amazon

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In addition, the next three books in the series are available for pre-order at all vendors, so if you're enjoying them, you can grab ’em now. Happy reading!

 

La Belle Indeed!

You all know by now how much I love me an Ackermann print...but there were periods during its long run that the fashion prints from La Belle Assemblée outshone even Mr. Ackermann’s wonderful fashion plates in terms of creativity of the depicted fashion and its presentation...and here’s a plate from one of those times.

Isn’t it gorgeous?

This is a Concert-Room Full Dress from the November 1809 issue (though the print is labeled December at the bottom.)  The accompanying text reads, A Polanese dress of green and yellow double twilled sarsnet,; worn over a drapery of rich white lace, with long sleeves; confined at the bosom, the waist, and on the arms by topaz brooches; ornamented with silver trimming and tassels; a body and train of yellow satin. A Grecian head-dress, composed of silver spangled crape and white satin, marked off at the crown by a wreath of green foil, and finished on the left side with a silver cord and tassels, worn with two white ostrich feathers tipped with green. Topaz necklace and earrings. Shoes and gloves of pale yellow, white, or green. The hair in full short ringlet curls.

So we have our accomplished young woman (obviously her mama made sure she was educated in all the genteel arts) wearing a yellow satin under-dress, with an over-dress of lace, over which is the unusual green “Polanese” (we’re more familiar with the term “polonaise”, which means a gown with cutaways to show an underskirt, after the fashion of Polish traditional dress) with the topaz brooches holding it in place and, of course, the tassels (there’s one visible down near her hem as well as at her arms).

At least her arms seem mostly unencumbered—the close-fitting sleeves are most practical— though I think the feathers and long hanging tassel in the head-dress would get on my nerves were I trying to play an instrument. But I can’t deny that they lend a certain insouciance to the ensemble.

And—oh my word—the furniture! I think the engraver must have had great fun designing that harp and the marvelous music stand, with its lions’ feet, palm-tree column, and chubby cherub at the top—a somewhat feverish mixture of styles, but it can’t be denied that it’s picturesque.

What do you think of this ensemble? Can you see yourself wearing it? I do like the tassels... ☺

Christmas Carols 1874-Style

We’ve talked about Christmas carols in early nineteenth century England before. When I was researching the period around His Frontier Christmas Family, however, I knew I had nearly 100 years more of songs to choose from. So, what would have been popular carols on the Seattle frontier?

Angels from the Realms of Glory—originally published in England in 1816, this standard was in many hymnals during the period in England and abroad.

While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night—though originally published as a poem in the early 1700s in England, it was set to music as early as 1850 and also made up part of the established hymnal.

We Three Kings is of American vintage. Composed in 1857 by a minister for a city-wide Christmas pageant (and, dare I say, used in pageants large and small ever since), it was widely circulated.

Silent Night was originally a German hymn, composed for Christmas Eve mass. It was translated into English in 1859 in America, so it could easily have reached the West coast in time for a Wallin Christmas in 1874.

My personal favorite Christmas hymn is O Holy Night. I have been known to belt it out at the least provocation (just ask my neighbors or the people in the next town over). First composed in 1847 in French and translated into English by an American in 1857, it inspired soldiers in the Civil War and beyond. I imagine the Wallins would have been proud to sing it.

And speaking of music, if you'd like to know more about the music boxes of the period, head on over to Petticoats and Pistols, where I'll be guest blogging today (December 15). 

May you be surrounded by music this Christmas season.

Surprising Music of the 1890s, by Noelle Marchand

I was over the moon at the idea of being able to make the heroine of The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets, Caroline Murray, a music teacher. I love music and having grown up watching classic musicals, I was totally envisioning scenes along the lines of Judy Garland and Margaret O’Brien’s adorable performance of “Under the Bamboo Tree” in Meet Me in St. Louis. 

Then I started to research. Famous last words, right?

I discovered the heyday of Tin Pan Alley (aka the amazing explosion of popular music which laid the groundwork for so much of today’s music and left generations sighing in nostalgia over Vaudeville tunes like the aforementioned, “Under the Bamboo Tree,” “In the Good Ole Summertime,” and “Let Me Call You Sweetheart”) took place in the early 19th century. The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets takes place in 1896—maddeningly just a few years shy of the music I’d hoped to have Caroline and the hero’s daughter, Maggie McKay, singing.

What kind of music was popular in the 1890s then? To my abject horror, Coon songs. Yes, coon. As in, what Dictionary.com defines as, “Slang: Extremely Disparaging and Offensive. a contemptuous term used to refer to a black person.”

There was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to have Maggie and Caroline singing songs like that! After my little Black self was done cringing and had thanked the Lord that American culture has come as far as we have since the 1890s, I realized I faced a dilemma. How could I be faithful to the times and still feature music of the day?

I turned to other sources both in research and in music genres. Leaving pop music behind except for the harmless “Daisy Bell” song for Maggie, I refocused specifically on my characters and the music they would have been exposed to through their specific life experiences.

For my classically trained heroine, there would have been a whole canon of arias and operas to pull from, but I chose to highlight something that was relatively new and exciting at the time—an operetta. In the world of musical theater, operettas fall somewhere between operas and musicals. In fact, it’s often considered the precursor to modern musicals.  (More information about the differences between operas, operettas, and musicals can be found here.)

The Pirates of Penzance is definitely one of the silliest operettas in the canon and, conveniently, was performed in New York on December 18^th 1879. That gave it plenty of time to work its way into the musical theaters of Austin, Texas, where Caroline is from. You can check out a scene from The Pirates of Penzance on YouTube.

One of the main ways that Caroline and the hero, David McKay, connect is through their love of music and their faith. Hymns provided the perfect fodder to make that connection stronger. Thankfully, there were many hymns for me to choose from, songs still familiar and beloved today such as “Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus,” “Blessed Assurance,” “I Need the Every Hour,” and “Amazing Grace.”

Although comfortable singing hymns, David has had no classical training. Everything he knows about singing, he learned from his mother, who plays the piano, and his ranch hands. The longs days in the saddle and lonesome night by a campfire or in a bunkhouse were conducive to the creation of melodies and lyrics based on the cowboy’s life and work—Cowboy Songs. 

Unlike popular music, cowboy music celebrated diversity even in the 1890s. Many of the most sought after cowboys and, thus most highly paid, were Black and Mexican cowboys whose beautiful singing would soothe nervous cattle. NPR did a fascinating music interview about Cowboy Songs several years ago. You can find it here. 

Obviously, the music I feature in The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets was not at all what I first thought it would be when I tackled the story. However, I think what I ended up using was even better. The music now doesn’t just reflect the era in which the story takes place, it reflects the individual characters, their worlds, and their culture rather than the world and the culture.

Better yet, I learned so many fascinating things about diversity in culture and in music. I hope you did too. Be sure to read The Nanny’s Temporary Triplets to see how I used music to create and flesh out the characters, their romance, and the world they live in.  

History: It's Where You Find It

Happy New Year, Nineteen Teen readers! I hope 2016 will be all that you hope for!

There’s one thing Regina and I are hoping for this year here at NineteenTeen —to hear from you! If you have a topic or question about an aspect of history, then please, let us know! We’ve been doing this for over eight years, which says something—that history is a beautiful, rich subject to be explored! But even crazy blogging history geeks like us can use a little help now and then when it comes to topics to discuss, so talk to us!

Inspiration for this blog can truly come from unexpected places. Last fall I was at a concert given by the Handel and Haydn Society, and as always read through the program because it often includes terrific historical background items in with the composer biographies and musical commentary. In a regular feature of interesting bits of history from the Society archives, I found something very interesting indeed: for ten years, the organist of the Society was a young woman who, when she started, could not have legally bought a beer in present-day Boston.

Sophia Hewitt, born in New York in 1799, came of a musical family—her father was a conductor and composer, and all her siblings were either composers, teachers, or performers—and was a very talented pianist and organist. The family moved to Boston some time during her childhood, and so talented was young Sophia that the newly formed Handel and Haydn Society invited her to become its organist in 1818, when she was just 18. She declined the offer, but the Society was persistent and renewed the offer two years later, and this time she accepted.

The post of organist was an important one—it was her job to lead rehearsals and serve as de facto conductor. The orchestra was very happy with Miss Hewitt (or, as she became upon her marriage a few years later to the first violinist, Mrs. Ostinelli) and she served for ten years, through the birth of her only child Eliza (who went on to become one of the great operatic voices of 19^th century America). In 1830, when the president of the Society wished to replace her with a new (male) organist, all thirty-eight male members of the Society--the females were not allowed to vote--petitioned to keep Sophia in her position. They were overruled.

Sophia continued to have a busy musical career across New England, teaching and performing, until her early death in 1845. But I just think it’s pretty awesome that in 1820, such a young woman was regarded with such professional respect.

Run across any interesting bits of history lately that you'd like to share?

Public Spectacles, Amusements, and Objects Deserving Notice, February

I have an object deserving notice. Nineteenteen just crossed the 200 barrier—200 followers, that is. Thank you all! Marissa and I are delighted and honored you want to come along with us! And now, to our post.

Ah, February! The month of love! The beginning often starts out chilly in London but by the end of the month, daffodils are in bloom. So, as the days brighten and the air warms, what’s a young lady or gentleman to do for entertainment?

I have it on good authority that the concert of ancient music, Opera House on Haymarket, starts early this month. Also known as the King’s Concert, this group of talented musicians play no composition less than 25 years old (didn’t know you were ancient at 26, did you?). They play every Wednesday until the end of May. (They were actually part of the Academy of Ancient Music but had a bit of a spat about refusing to play newer music, so now they’re on their own!)

The Academy of Ancient Music, meanwhile, continues to perform once a fortnight at the gorgeous assembly room in the Crown and Anchor Tavern. The subscription for the 6 to 8 performances is a stiff four guineas (more than four pounds). While they favor classical music from the 1600s and 1700s, they occasionally play current songs. Gasp! Really!

If your tastes run to visual expression instead, you might try the British Gallery on Pall Mall, which opens around the 19th. The gallery features 300 to 400 paintings by Dutch and Flemish masters as well as British artists. While it is open to the public, subscription members of the Gallery are generally the aristocracy, so you might find yourself rubbing elbows with an eligible earl.

Not to be outdone, the Royal Academy of Art begins lectures around the 22nd. The lectures are free, but you’ll need to get a ticket from one of the Academicians. And don’t forget, once Lent starts, every Wednesday and Friday evenings you can hear oratorios at Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatres.

Me? I intend to bundle up and take a walk in Hyde Park. There’s more than one way to catch that elusive earl.

The Golden Age of Christmas Music

In posts last Christmas Regina and I discussed the changes in how the holiday was celebrated in the 19th century, going from "not much at all" in the early decades to "full speed ahead!" by the 1840s. Just as Christmas grew in importance over the century, so did one of the most memorable parts of holiday celebration: the Christmas carol.

By the 1820s, the general lack of enthusiasm for keeping Christmas extended to Christmas music as well. In his 1822 compilation of old Christmas songs, Some Ancient Christmas Carols (published in 1822) Davies Gilbert writes, "The Editor is desirous of preserving them [the selected Christmas carols] in their actual forms, however distorted by false grammar or by obscurities, as specimens of times now passed away, and of religious feelings superseded by others of a different cast. He is anxious also to preserve them on account of the delight they afforded him in his childhood, when the festivities of Christmas Eve were anticipated by many days of preparation, and prolonged through several weeks by repetitions and remembrances."

"Specimens of times past away"? Fortunately for poor Mr. Gilbert, the next decades would prove him wrong and usher in a renaissance of Christmas music.

The 1830s through 1870s were the golden age of popular Christmas music, with many of the carols we still sing today dating back to this time. William B. Sandys, a solicitor by trade and an antiquarian in his spare time, published his Christmas Carols Ancient and Modern in 1833, including songs and carols culled from as far back as medieval times (many of which Sandys decided to "improve" upon, and others which he combined when finding multiple sources). Carols included in his collection include many our readers would be familiar with today--The First Noel and God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen among them.

These carols gradually made their way into the church service during this time, probably as a side-effect of the Evangelical movement's emotionalizing and personalizing of religious experience. Caroling also began to come back into fashion; it was used as a way to collect funds for church-sponsored charity and so became rather more respectable than in the past! St. Thomas's Day, December 21, was a traditional day for caroling; in elder times it was an almost Halloween-like holiday, when the poor went "corning", or "Thomasing", or "gooding" amongst their better-off neighbors, collecting portions of flour for a Christmas baking. Caroling replaced corning, and donations for the church poor box replaced gifts of flour.

So just in case your past Christmases have been ruined by wondering just where your favorite carol came from, I've compiled a list of carols with brief notes on their origins and approximate dates, from medieval times to the 19th century.

The First Noel, which appeared in Sandys (see above) is thought to have been written in 16th century England.

I Saw Three Ships is also thought to be medieval in origin. It was widely known across England in slightly different versions; the first printed version is from 17th century Derbyshire. Like The Twelve Days of Christmas it's a mnemonic, consisting of multiple repeated elements. Published in Sandys.

God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen is also thought to be medieval in origin. It's quoted in Dickens' A Christmas Carol. Published in Sandys.

Hark, the Herald Angels Sing was originally written by Charles Wesley, younger brother of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism. It appeared in the younger Wesley's Hymns and Sacred Poems in 1739, and again in Sandys in a modified form. Some time in the 1840s it was re-adapted to a tune by Mendelssohn by English musician William Cummings.

Joy to the World, or at least its lyrics, were written by English writer/composer Isaac Watts in 1719, based on Psalm 98. Composer Lowell Mason set them to the tune we now know in 1839, borrowing heavily from parts of Handel's Messiah.

The Twelve Days of Christmas, or at least its lyrics, date back to the sixteenth century; the music is thought to be French. It was first published in England in 1780.

O Come All Ye Faithful would have been known and sung in our era in its Latin form, Adeste Fidelis. It was written by English hymnist John Francis Wade and published by him in 1751, though he may have borrowed heavily from a 13th century song. The English translation was published in Murray's Hymnal in 1852.

Silent Night is a German carol; its words were written by an Austrian priest in 1816 and set to music (guitar, no less!) by a friend of his in 1818. The first published English translation is from 1871.

We Wish You a Merry Christmas was sung as far back as the 1500s in the West Country of England as a secular Christmas song.

Several other carols also survived from medieval origins, including Here We Go A-Wassailing, The Boar's Head Carol, The Holly and the Ivy, and Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella (an 18th century translation of a medieval French song).

Have I missed any of your favorites? Let me know, and I'll try to track their origins down.

If Music be the Food of Love, Pass the Antacids

Looking at this picture (it's from Ackermann's Repository, March 1819), can't you just tell by the way she's gazing up at the ceiling that she's singing waaaay out of tune? And maybe fat-fingering those chords as well? I just love this print.

But Regina's post a few weeks back on music as a required accomplishment for a nineteenth century miss made me think about something else...the fact that if you wanted to hear music, you pretty much had to make it yourself. There were no iPods, no downloads, no CDs, no radio. The first sound-recording device wasn't invented until 1877 by Thomas Edison, and widespread consumer use of the earliest recorded sound machines wasn't until well into the 1890s.

So there was a reason that an "accomplished" young lady learned to play pianoforte, or harp, or guitar like this girl: unless you went to a concert, doing it yourself was the only source of music there was.

For example...have you seen the A&E mini-series of Pride and Prejudice? You know, Colin Firth and all that? Remember that whenever there was a party, like the ones at Meryton or at Netherfield, a group of actual musicians was hired to provide music for dancing--no DJs or sound systems. And when people got together at someone's house, Mary Bennet always got dragged into playing music on her beloved piano that she obviously loathed so that everyone else could dance.

So our friend here strumming away on her rather squared-off guitar was probably entertaining friends after dinner or whiling away an evening around the drawing room fire with Mama and Papa. Because if you wanted to hear some music, that's how you did it.

(This is a repost of a previous posting that we had to take down because for some reason, it turned into utter unreadability when viewed on a Mac. We still don't know why. Dontcha love technology?)