How Did 19th Century Pioneer Ladies Say "I Do"?

What is it about June and weddings? Once held to be the luckiest month in which to marry, it’s still one of the most popular times here in the U.S., with the best venues, caterers, and photographers booked more than a year in advance.  And of course weddings are so romantic, the joy of a couple pledging their lives to each other.  Sigh.

I’ve written about more than one wedding in my twenty-seven published stories set in early nineteenth century England, from grander affairs in a church to eloping to Gretna Green and being married by a so-called “anvil priest,” otherwise known as a blacksmith. The service in the Book of Common Prayer, the manual for the Church of England, is relatively easy to find online for the time period. Very helpful authors and researchers can provide detail on the wedding breakfast or the wedding gown, as in the lovely post this week by author Katherine Givens.   

But now I’m writing about a wedding ceremony in pioneer Seattle, 1866 to be exact.  And the details are sketchy to say the least.

Certainly the East Coast magazines were full of advice to new brides.  I can find pictures from Godey’s Lady’s Book and Magazine that look not too different from what we’d expect--yards of white satin with lace trimmings, embroidered bodices, long sheer lace veils that flow from the head to past the hips, orange blossoms in the hair.  Godey’s even advises what to include in the trousseau:  six trimmed cambric petticoats, four morning wrappers (two cambric, two of wool in a neutral color), plain handkerchiefs embroidered with your initials, a neutral-colored traveling dress finished with heavy silk cord with matching cloak and bonnet, and three silk dresses for morning calls. I can hear my brave pioneer ladies laughing now.

So, how did a lady say “I do” in the early days of Washington Territory?  There were two churches in 1866 Seattle, called the brown church and the white church because of the colors they were painted rather than using grander names that signified their denominations. They each had an officiating minister, but the ministers were known for traveling other places to marry folks. There’s an account of the Reverend Daniel Bagley marrying one young couple in his study. At least one pioneer lady recalled marrying in the Occidental Hotel. Vows appear to be a mere “I do” responding to the minister’s list of duties for husband and wife. 

 Of course, even that can be quite romantic, with the right gentleman at your side!

Fashion Forecast: June 1917

What was the well-dressed young woman wearing in June 1917?

June being the month it is, she might have been wearing white and carrying a bouquet. Here are a couple of pages of bridal fashion from McCall’s Magazine:

And from The Delineator. Anyone who has purchased a wedding gown in the recent (or not so recent) past might be amused (or enraged) by this extract from the description: “This bridal costume can be made for $7.94 in a medium size. It requires 2 7/8 yards silk crêpe 40 inches wide at $1.00, 3 ¼ yards satin 40 inches wide at $1.25, findings, trimming, pattern, .99. It will take about 12 bunches of beads at .30.”:

Some spectacular millinery is in evidence on this page from The Delineator...but even more interesting is the bloomer dress second from the right. Here’s the description: "The next step in the woman movement is the bloomer dress (design 9235). All women who both “spin and toil” will find this a very comfortable and serviceable garment that is attractive as well. If you would sprinkle the lawn or clean out the attic you might as well be practical about it as well as feminine. The soft fulness from the yoke, front and back is pretty, and if you are to lose yourself in dust why not turn up the convertible collar for protection and use a longer sleeve and cover the whole question with a sensible cap. Of course you need not have the pockets. Use gingham, percale, chambray, or Japanese crêpe." Note that she’s wielding a vacuum cleaner hose!

June also means the start of—you guessed it—bathing suit weather. Here’s a sight you won’t see in Ackermann’s! Recommended fabrics, by the way, include satin, taffeta, silk poplin, shantung, wool jersey, and mohair. Yessiree—a mohair bathing suit. Note that several are worn with stockings, though not all—and the young lady at left has hers daringly rolled half-way down her calves. (The Delineator):

An interesting silhouette you’ll see a lot this year is displayed in the dress at left in this page from McCall’s: it was known as “barrel” style, for obvious reasons:

Here are a few more general dress images, to give you a flavor of what was in (hint: parasols, do ya think?) From The Delineator:

The Delineator, again (love these color images!) Note the sheer blouses, or "waists" that require some of the products we learned about back in January:

  

And McCall's (the outfit at far right is definitely in the barrel style):

McCall's again:

June is graduation month as well, and McCall’s had a selection of charming dresses (in white, of course) for graduating young ladies:

More teen fashions from The Delineator:

And more, also from The Delineator:

What do you think of June 1917’s fashions?

Royal Weddings, The Finale: Wedding Gowns!

Well, did you stay up until the wee hours to see this decade’s royal wedding? It was at 1am my time, and I’m afraid I preferred my sleep. I did hear already that the announcers struggled to use the correct titles for the various members of the royal family. And that the bride looked beautiful in her gown. Isn’t that the dream of every bride?

So to end our series of posts on nineteenth century royal weddings, Marissa and I wanted to share some pictures on royal wedding gowns over the years. You’ll remember several we’ve discussed in the last few weeks, including Princess Charlotte’s gown, Queen Victoria’s satin gown, and the gown of Princess Mary of Teck, among others. It’s hard to imagine that these have survived so long, for nearly 200 years!

This link will take you to an excellent article and video on the Telegraph’s site. Below is a more formal presentation of the history behind the dresses.



Enjoy!

Royal Weddings Part 6: George, Duke of York and Princess Mary of Teck

I’m starting our final week of Royal Wedding month with the 19th century royal wedding that most resembles this current week’s event: the 1893 wedding of Prince George, Duke of York (and grandson of the reigning monarch) and his bride Princess Mary of Teck.

What’s interesting about this wedding is the fact that George was not the first person Mary was engaged to marry. In December 1891 George’s older brother Eddy, Duke of Clarence, had proposed to Mary, who’d more or less been chosen for him by the Queen. Eddy was not known to be terribly stable or intelligent, while Mary was both—it was thought that she might improve him as he was, after all, in line for the throne after his grandmother and father. But only weeks after their engagement, Eddy was dead of pneumonia following an attack of the flu.

Queen Victoria, however, had decided that her great-niece Mary (a descendent of her father's younger brother, the Duke of Cambridge) was too good to be allowed to slip away, and encouraged a match between her and Eddy’s younger brother George, now second heir to the throne. Her wish was eventually granted, and a little more than a year after Eddy’s death (and after a lot of public speculation as to whether they would or not and doubts on both their part), George and Mary were engaged. Happily, their doubts proved groundless, and they became a devoted if not very demonstrative couple, Mary indeed proving to be a source of strength for her husband, just as the Queen had foreseen.


Their wedding, in the Chapel Royal at St. James's Palace, was attended by a large crowd of royalty, among them the recently engaged Alix of Hesse and her fiancé, Tsarevitch Nicholas of Russia. The weather was perfect, hot and sunny but with a breeze, and Londoners turned out in droves to watch the spectacle. Mary's ten bridesmaids (including two of George's sisters and several cousins) rode to St. James's in open carriages to the delight of spectators. The Queen was a spectator, and wrote in her journal about the wedding "Dear May looked so pretty & quiet and dignified. She was vy. simply and prettily dressed--& wore her mother's lace veil. The bridesmaids looked vy. sweet in white satin, with a little pink & red rose on the shoulder & some small bows of the same on the shoes.... Georgie gave his answers distinctly...while May, though quite self-possessed, spoke vy. low."

After the service, which was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and a handful of other bishops, a luncheon was served back at Buckingham Palace, and at 5 pm the couple left Buckingham Palace for Sandringham, the country estate of the Prince of Wales, for their honeymoon--an odd choice, as it had been the place of Prince Eddy's death just the previous year. They would eventually settle in York Cottage on the grounds of Sandringham, and not quite a year later, the couple's first child would be born--a son who would grow up to be King Edward VIII and give up his throne in order to marry Wallis Simpson.

Royal Weddings, Part 4: Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, and Princess Alexandra of Denmark

Our latest royal wedding wasn’t precisely a love match like Vicky and Fritz’s, but as royal marriages go managed, after a few rocky years, to be a successful one, based on mutual respect and affection. I’m talking about the match between “bad boy” Bertie, eldest son of Queen Victoria and Princess “Alix” Alexandra of Denmark.

Finding a bride for Bertie, the twenty-year-old future king of England, was of course a very important issue. Victoria was in the depths of mourning first for her mother, then for her beloved Albert who’d died in December 1861 (and whose death she partly blamed on poor Bertie's misbehavior with an Irish "actress"), so Bertie’s elder sister Vicky, now Crown Princess of Prussia, stepped in to find a suitable bride for her brother.
She found the young and beautiful Alexandra of Denmark, known as Alix to her family. Although their first meeting didn’t precisely result in sparks, neither outright refused to consider marriage, and a year later, on their second meeting (and after much behind-the-scenes discussion and negotiation), Bertie proposed in September 1862, with the wedding to take place on March 10, 1863. Though traditionally the marriage should have taken place in the bride’s home, Victoria would not hear of her heir being married anywhere but London, and so in London it was.

Because the Queen was still in the deepest mourning, the wedding was held at St. George’s Chapel at Windsor. The small venue meant that only Alix’s closest family members were invited, and Bertie was limited to inviting six friends. Holding the wedding at Windsor also denied Londoners the spectacle of the wedding of the heir to the throne, but the Queen would not hear of a more public wedding. Court mourning also decreed that female guests could wear only secondary mourning colors like mauve or grey, which must have been a bit of a disappointment.

Alix’s dress was of white and silver satin, decorated with garlands of greenery; Bertie wore a general’s uniform under his Garter robes. But most of the eyes were on the Queen in a balcony overlooking the altar; she seems to have played somewhat shamelessly to the crowds, making it clear that witnessing what was supposed to be a joyous event was terribly painful to her (“I dread the whole thing awfully, & wonder even how you can rejoice so much at witnessing what must I should think be to you, who loved Papa so dearly, so terribly sad a wedding,” she wrote to her eldest daughter Vicky a few weeks before the happy event.) The Archbishop of Canterbury officiated, operatic star Jenny Lind sang, and Bertie’s nephew, Vicky’s eldest son, four-year-old Willy (later Kaiser Wilhelm II), behaved very badly, crawling about and biting people.

A wedding breakfast for five hundred was held under a tent (fortunately the weather was sunny at this point) with another enormous cake, and then the bride and groom went away to dress for their wedding journey to Osborne House on the Isle of Wight. “Ah, dear brother, what a sad and dismal ceremony it was!” the Queen wrote later to the King of Prussia.

Royal Weddings, Part 3: Princess Victoria and Prince Friedrich of Prussia

Our next royal wedding is that of Princess Victoria the Princess Royal, eldest daughter of Queen Victoria, and Prince Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia, the future Emperor and Empress of Germany…and known within their families as Vicky and Fritz. As we have seen, the match between these two was truly a love match, and they remained devoted all their lives. In fact, they became semi-secretly engaged—family were informed, but it wasn’t widely announced—when Vicky was not quite 15. As Fritz was nine years her senior, she must have been quite a young lady to enchant a more-or-less grown man, and a very eligible one to boot.

Since her parents decreed that she should not marry before she was seventeen, Queen Victoria had plenty of time to gather Vicky’s trousseau…which she did with a vengeance. In the end, 100 hundred packing cases of everything from clothing (dozens of dresses and fabric for dozens more) to housewares (from carpets to wallpaper to furniture) to dainties from Fortnum and Mason and saddles. Parliament granted her a dowry of £40,000, which would generate her an income of £8,000 per year. Although the Prussians wanted their future king to be married in Prussia, the Queen would not hear of it, and the wedding was set for January 25, 1858, in London.

According to her former governess, Vicky was wonderfully calm and composed all through the fuss of dressing and preparing. Her dress was of white silk moire over a flounced lace petticoat, decorated with sprays of orange blossom and myrtle. Her veil was held on with a matching wreath, and she wore diamonds. The Queen wore lilac, while the mother of the groom, Princess Augusta, wore white with a blue velvet train, and Fritz himself wore the dark blue tunic and white trousers of the Prussian Guards.

Unlike her mother’s wedding day, the weather was clear and sunny for Vicky, and the roads between Buckingham Palace and St. James’s Chapel were thronged with onlookers. The wedding itself seems to have run smoothly: Vicky’s train was long enough that her eight bridesmaids didn’t have to worry about tripping over each other, and while according to the Queen the Archbishop of Canterbury was “very nervous”, the bride and groom themselves were poised and spoke “very plainly”. And when the vows were said, the young couple set a tradition, walking out of the chapel to the strains of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. They also set a precedent by stepping out onto the balcony at Buckingham Palace to wave to the cheering Londoners.

If Victoria and Albert’s cake was enormous, their daughter’s was no smaller: it stood over six feet tall, and quite hid them from view at the wedding breakfast! Also like her mother, Vicky’s honeymoon at Windsor was a short two days, after which her parents and dozens of other wedding guests arrived. And by February 1, Vicky was sailing away with her new husband for her new life as a Prussian Crown Princess—a life which would often be difficult for the warm-hearted young girl.

Royal Weddings, Part 1: Victoria and Albert

Feeling bridal? Regina and I thought it would be fun to join in Royal Wedding fever this month and do a series of posts on 19th century royal weddings in the lead-up to the wedding of Prince William of Wales and Miss Kate Middleton on April 29. Are you ready?

Surely one of the most momentous royal weddings of the 19th century was that of Queen Victoria to Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Victoria had proposed to her cousin in October—as a reigning monarch, she far outranked him—and the wedding was set for February 10, 1840—a scant three months later. Victoria had hoped for a private wedding, but her prime minister, Lord Melbourne, over-ruled her and so it was the first public royal wedding in decades—since George III’s wedding, back in 1761. The weather was beastly that morning, but it didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of the crowds of people who came out to watch the queen drive from Buckingham Palace to the Chapel Royal at St. James’s Palace. The Chapel was stuffed with as many seats as possible for visiting dignitaries and as much of the whiggish side of the British nobility as possible (of the Tory nobility, only the Duke of Wellington and Lord Liverpool, a former prime minister, were invited).

Albert, dressed as a British Field Marshal, entered the chapel first, and awaited Victoria, who walked down the aisle on the arm of her uncle, the Duke of Sussex. Her dress (viewable in the London Museum) was of her own design and fairly simple, of British-made white satin with a trim of orange blossoms. Her veil, worn with a wreath of orange blossoms, was literally one of a kind: it was made by lacemakers in Devon, and the design was destroyed so that the pattern could never be copied. She wore her Turkish diamond necklace and earrings and a sapphire brooch Albert gave her as a wedding present.

There were a multiplicity of clergy on hand, with the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and the Bishop of London all there to officiate. What there hadn’t been was a rehearsal, so that the dowager queen Adelaide was heard whispering to Albert about the proper order of the procession, and Victoria’s twelve bridesmaids (dressed in simple gowns also of Victoria’s design, with wreaths of white roses on their heads) struggled to hold onto the queen’s short train without stumbling over each other. Though Albert often seemed unsure and agitated—his English was not very good at this point, so following the service may have been difficult—Victoria was poised and calm and, as she wrote in her journal, “so very happy!” There were amusing family touches, too: Victoria’s uncle the Duke of Cambridge kept up a very audible, if cheerful, commentary on the proceedings. Her uncle Sussex, who gave her away, still wore his customary black skullcap which he always wore to keep his head warm. And like many mothers of brides, the Duchess of Kent was seen to shed tears.

After the ceremony the married pair returned to Buckingham Palace for a small wedding breakfast (relatively speaking) of family members and their households, the prime minister and a handful of cabinet members, the Royal Household, and the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of London. Over a hundred wedding cakes were made, to distribute to various family members, Royal Household members, officers of state, and foreign ambassadors. The main cake was nine feet across and sixteen inches high, and decorated with all sorts of allegorical symbols of marriage and of the queen…oh for a photograph! And then it was time to change (Victoria wore a white satin cloak trimmed with swan’s down and a white velvet bonnet with plumes and Brussels lace) and head off to Windsor for their two-day honeymoon. Yes, two days. As Victoria reminded Albert, “You forget, my dearest Love, that I am the Sovereign and that business can stop and wait for nothing.” Not even true love, it seems!

Fashion Forecast: 1819

What was the well-dressed young lady wearing in 1819?

In January, the Court was still in mourning for the death of Queen Charlotte the previous November…but after a certain amount of time clothing went from full mourning to “half-mourning”, when white as well as black were allowed. You can see examples in Ackermann’s Repository with this Half Mourning Walking Dress and Half Mourning Evening Dress, both from the January issue: By February, though, all mourning was off, as is shown by this exuberantly cheerful cherry-red Ball Dress from La Belle Assemblee. No guess as to the fabric, but it was obviously elaborately embroidered:March saw an event that should be celebrated by mall-lovers everywhere: the opening of London's Burlington Arcade, a covered walkway onto which opened 72 upscale shops. I wonder if a young lady might have worn this smart Walking Dress to examine the delights for sale there? There’s quite a garden blooming on the top of that bonnet, though I like the pink and green combination (Ackermann’s Repository): I wish I had the original description of this Evening Dress from the March edition of Ackermann’s Repository, as it’s quite stunning: note the purple embroidered sheer overdress on top of a mustard-yellow underdress. The hat is, um, quite original, and the expression on the young lady’s face as she strums her guitar is priceless. I can’t help thinking she might be worried about that rose in her headdress, just above her forehead: As can be seen from both this Walking Dress and the previous one from March, the spencer was still in fashion. This one sets off an elaborately embroidered dress (that looks like eyelet embroidery to me) and ruff, with a matching green hat. May 1819, by the way, is a special month in my calendar—it saw the birth of a sturdy baby girl in Kensington Palace who would, in a few weeks time, be christened Alexandrina Victoria…and come to the throne 18 years later as Queen Victoria. (Ackermann’s Repository): Isn’t this wonderful? It’s “A Danish fancy dress worn at the Prince Regent’s Fete” in August 1819—for his birthday, perhaps? I have no idea if it actually resembles Danish fashions, or if Mrs. Bell, the dress’s “inventor” was just having fun…but it certainly is eye candy, isn’t it? (La Belle Assemblee): Though not particularly eye-candyish, I thought this dress from La Belle Assemblee of interest. It is labeled “Parisian Evening Bridal Dress”, and includes the original description:
Round dress of white watered gros-de-Naples, flounced in a festoon of very broad lace of a rich pattern, surmounted by full-blown blush roses and orange-flower blossoms. The hair is arranged in full curls, and bound round with pearls and ears of ripe corn. Bouquet of orange flowers on the left side of the bust. Necklace of pearls, fastened before with a cameo à-l’Antique. Earrings à-l’Etoile. Short sleeves, white kid gloves, white satin shoes, and carved cedar fan.

The above dress is the faithful representation of the bridal attire of a lady of rank, for returning her congratulatory visits on her late marriage.

This hearkens back to an exchange that occurred in a past Fashion Forecast about bridal attire; here we can see that white as a color didn’t originate with Queen Victoria (nor did wearing orange blossoms as a wedding flower), and that one’s gown was usually worn to make post-wedding calls in: Several of the Ackermann prints from this year have wonderful “props” and settings to add visual interest; I thought this Walking Dress from the November issue was charming on both counts. The pale yellow with pink ruffles is just sweet, and her oversized bonnet looks like a valentine (though it must have been an absolute bear to actually wear). I wonder why she’s gazing out to sea with such interest? Maybe to catch a glimpse of one of the new trans-atlantic steamships, which had made their maiden voyage in June: What do you think of 1819's fashions?

Fashion Forecast: 1818

First, thank you so much for your title suggestions for Book 3! I'll be using them to put together a list for my editor, and when we have a title, I'll let you know...unless I have to come back for a second round of Name that Book (let's hope not!) In the meanwhile, the winners of the drawing are Jessica and Aimeestates! Ladies, please contact me through the form on my website so we can arrange my sending you your choice of book.

Now... What was the fashionable young lady wearing in 1818?

In the early months of 1818, society was still in mourning for the death of Princess Charlotte of Wales and her son in childbirth, and fashion reflected it as you can see in this Carriage Dress from the January issue of Ackermann's Repository. This isn't the last time we'll see mourning this year: And because of Princess Charlotte's death, there was a mad rush among the brothers of the Prince Regent to marry in order to produce an heir to the throne. Maybe that's why Ackermann's featured a Bridal Dress in its April issue. Note that the waistline is as high as ever; it will stay just under the bust for another couple of years. The applique around the skirt is very pretty, but this is not as elaborate as wedding dresses will be later in the century: 1818 was, however, a good year for book lovers: it saw the posthumous publication of two Jane Austen novels (Northanger Abbey and Persuasion), Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus, and several poems by Keats. Maybe our young lady will venture forth to Hatchard's Book Shop in this Morning Dress in pursuit of one of them--the pale pink pelisse is quite pretty, but the bonnet is rather fearsome, don't you think? (August, Ackermann's Repository): On the other hand, this Evening Dress that appeared in the October edition of Ackermann's Repository features a much smaller headdress. Note again the applique work and flounces around the lower skirt; this fashion will also persist for several years, right through the 1820s. Note also her shawl: with increased trade from India starting in the late 18th century, shawls from the sub-continent in silk and wool became prized fashion accessories. And I have to admit that I love the tiny pink and white striped puff sleeves on this dress, rather like a peppermint ball! Here's another spectacular shawl, worn with a Walking Dress (Ackermann, November). On closer examination you can see she also has a smaller shawl or scarf with fringe tied round her neck. And that collar is downright Elizabethan! I said that we weren't through with mourning clothes for the year: in November, Queen Charlotte, wife of King George III, died at age 74. But being in mourning did not mean being out of fashion: here's another Walking Dress with a truly monumental bonnet and very attractive rows of pleating and flounces around the hem of the pelisse, and an Evening Dress with black gauze sleeves. Note that both hairstyles involve a Spanish style comb--it's fun to track these little passing fads.So what do you think of 1818's fashions?

Dearly Beloved

“Oh they say when you marry in June
You’re a bride, all your life.
And the bridegroom who marries in June
Gets a sweetheart for a wife.”
Johnny Mercer and Gene de Paul, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

The song isn’t exactly nineteenth century, though the setting was 1850 Oregon, but the sentiment still rings true. June is the time for weddings!

A young lady in nineteenth century England could be married as early as twelve and a young man as young as fifteen, with parental permission. Thankfully, usually only royalty married that young and then only to cement friendships between countries or ensure royal bloodlines would be kept intact. The age of consent, when you could marry without parental permission, was twenty-one for women and twenty-five for men.

Most girls married somewhere between sixteen and twenty-five. How they married differed greatly from the beginning of the century to the end. Before Marissa’s beloved Queen Vic, weddings were in the morning (before noon), and more often in the home or garden of the bride, groom, or a relative than in a church. Wedding dresses weren’t necessarily white or very fancy; they were simply stylish day dresses. And the only attendants needed to be two people in good standing in the Church of England to witness the exchange of vows.

During Queen Victoria’s reign, weddings became more elaborate affairs, with bridesmaids, groomsmen, flower girls, ring bearers, and the like parading down the aisle. The gorgeous white dresses came into fashion and never left. They too grew more bejeweled, reribboned, and bedecked with the passing years, as you can see by our progression of pictures.

And speaking of weddings, today happens to be Marissa’s wedding anniversary! Join me in wishing her and her dear one a very happy day! Blessings on you, my dears! Here’s to many, many more!

P.S. Stop by the Class of 2K8 blog where we've been interviewing YA and MG book reviewers, with an opportunity to win a book on each post (We're giving away 11 book in all!). Leave comments before June 29th to be entered.

P.S.S. If you find yourself misty eyed at the thought of June brides, check out my June release from Regency Reads, Be My Bride, a collection of three stories in which three dashing gentlemen find that it takes a small black kitten, three incorrigible boys, and a master French spy to win their lady loves.