May I Have the Honor of Hopping the Broom--Part II

Thanks for all your interest in eloping to Scotland! Just as people run away to Vegas to marry in a hurry these days, Scotland was the place to go in the nineteenth century if you wanted to be married quickly, no questions asked.

In Scotland, you didn’t have to be a minister to perform a legal wedding ceremony; in fact, you could be married by anyone, as long as you had two witnesses. In some areas, merely tying hands together (handfasting) or jumping over a decorated broom (the besom) was enough to declare you husband and wife. When a toll booth was built on the border late in the nineteenth century, people just stopped there and asked the booth guard to marry them!

Most of them, however, ventured into one of the border towns. One of the first towns over the border on the main road from London was Gretna Green, and the closest and most prominent landmark was the blacksmith’s shop where five major coaching roads met. The blacksmith, along with a number of other fellows in town, were willing and able, for a fee, to perform a marriage, so they all became known as anvil priests.

None was more famous than Joseph Paisley. He was the original blacksmith who set up the marriage market in Gretna Green in the late 1700s. A large, coarse fellow, he conducted his ceremonies with the least amount of effort. Legend has it he once married two couples at the same time, but inadvertently paired the wrong bride and groom. When they protested, he waved his beefy hand and told them to “Sort it out among yourselves.”

His nephew David Lang also married couples, but he opted for a more official air and went around dressed somberly like a minister, though he had no claim to the title. His son Simon took over the trade when his father passed away in 1827 and continued practicing until 1872. The Lang family recorded over 10,000 marriages from 1795 to 1895.

Would you do it? Would you risk scandal, run away, and have a fat sooty fellow clang his hammer on the anvil and proclaim you married? Would a Gretna Green marriage or hopping the broom in Scotland be enough romance for your wedding day?

NineteenTeen goes to the movies: The Young Victoria

First, I must apologize for this post's lateness--I was indisposed yesterday, but am feeling much better. And besides, I couldn't wait to get discussion going about one of my favorite topics...one they actually made a movie about!

Yes, it's time to talk about The Young Victoria!

The film covers roughly 1836-1840, the years during which Victoria ascended the throne, married, and had her first child. All the major events from these years are covered with the exception of the Lady Flora scandal, which I can perhaps understand as it would have been hard to explain and depict in the short time available...though it more than the Bedchamber Crisis affected Victoria's popularity. History did get played a little fast and loose at times: no, Albert did not get shot, no, he wasn't at Victoria's coronation. But the little touches of what did happen--like Victoria's being required to hold someone's hand at all times when going up or down stairs and her running up to give her favorite dog, Dash, a bath when she got back from her coronation--certainly warmed my history geek's heart.

Characterizations were, on the whole, reasonably good, with a couple of exceptions. Miranda Richardson made a suitably waffling Duchess of Kent, Mark Strong a villainous Sir John Conroy (though I suspect in real life he had a trifle more charm...at least to people other than Victoria), and Jesper Christensen could have stepped out of a portrait of Baron Stockmar--in fact, it's plain that an effort was made to find actors who resembled their characters, and it shows.

I was somewhat disappointed in Emily Blunt's depiction of Victoria; I think Ms. Blunt played her a little too buttoned-up, when contemporary letters refer to her liveliness and "showing her gums when she laughs, which is frequently" and her own diaries and letters discuss her dancing till all hours at balls and show her vivid, passionate, opinionated personality. Also disappointing was Paul Bettany as Lord Melbourne, Victoria's first prime minister: the movie paints him as far too young and Machiavellian, though it does get across his rather laissez-faire attitude toward social reform. However, Rupert Friend does a superb job as Prince Albert, showing him deal with juggling the demands of his uncle, King Leopold of the Belgians, and then find his way in his difficult and anomalous position as husband (and theoretically lord and master) to the Queen of England (who made a point of saying "obey" in the marriage ceremony!)

What made this movie sing for me were its physical aspects. I wholeheartedly agree with the "utterly gorgeous and visually stunning" comments in the ad above: the sets, both indoors and out, were simply breathtaking (not surprising, as Blenheim Palace was among the locations used). And oh my goodness, the costumes!! They were simply wonderful and moreover, historically accurate: someone clearly did their homework here. My teen daughters and I were constantly whispering, "Ooh! Love that dress!" to each other through the movie.


So that's my opinion. Overall, I enjoyed it--three thumbs up from the Doyle household. How about you? What did you think?

May I Have the Honor of Hopping the Broom--Part I

They are the stuff of legend: young ladies and gentlemen, madly in love, but unable to marry because of family protests or lack of fortune. Romeo and Juliette, the Hatfields and McCoys, West Side Story. In nineteenth century England, though, if you wanted to marry your sweetie and your family protested, there was one clear answer.

Elope to Scotland.

You see, in the 1700s, getting married in England, particularly London, was easier than it should be. A law had been passed in the 1690s that required certain rules to be followed for a marriage to be legal, but a quirk in the law exempted ministers operating in the environs of Fleet Prison in London. So, if you wanted to be married, at any age, at any time (literally 24/7), for any reason, you could just find a willing cleric near the prison and exchange vows with your sweetie and that was that. Thousands of marriages a year were conducted this way, and taverns and houses in the area did a booming business catering to those who wanted, for whatever reason, to get married quickly.

But this opened the door for all kinds of problems. What if some fortune hunter grabbed a rich heiress and seduced her into marriage? What if a young lady of good family decided to marry, gasp, the young strapping butcher! At the time, the legal age for getting married was 7 (yes, 7—feel free to shudder), with no parental consent required. Most people were far older, of course, and most who married quickly weren’t trying to be shady. But, sad to say, some were bigamists and many were schemers.

In 1753, Parliament passed the Marriage Act to stop such abuses. The act abolished common-law marriages like the ones at Fleet Prison where you merely had to exchange vows. Now for your marriage to be recognized in England and Wales, you had to be at least 21 or your parents had to agree you could be married. If your parents agreed, the boy had to be least 14 and the girl 12. You had to have a formal church wedding in the Church of England (or a license to wed elsewhere) and the official had to be a cleric in the Church of England, unless you were Jewish or Quaker. Your marriage had to be officially recorded in the parish record. Before you could be married, you either had to have a minister read the banns--the announcement of your upcoming wedding--in your home church and your betrothed’s home church for three weeks in a row (so people could protest if they happened to know you were already married or had some other reason not to wed) or you had to buy a license. Generally, you married in the morning (between eight and noon).

These rules would have effectively put a stop to quick marriages, except that Scotland had no such rulings. A marriage made there was legal anywhere in the Empire, as long as you had proof. Many a couple ran for the border, with a father toting a pistol or horse whip chasing after them.

And what happened once they got to Scotland? I’ll explain next Friday. In the meantime, thanks again for all your interest in the Young Bluestockings Book Club! Marissa and I can hardly wait for our first discussion in February! Keep those suggestions coming!

New for the New Year: Announcing the Young Bluestockings Book Club!

Happy 2010 to you all! We hope this new year will be a happy, healthy, and historical one for all of you!

In keeping with new beginnings, Regina and I thought this would be a great time to kick off a new venture we've been contemplating for a while now (galvanized by a suggestion from ChaChaneen back in September): a book club! So today we would like to introduce the Young Bluestockings Book Club!

HOW: Because we're new at this, we're going to stick to holding it here on the blog, posting our thoughts on the chosen book to open the discussion; however, if we find there's interest, we may add on or switch to a chat format.

WHEN: We're contemplating doing this bi-monthly, unless you decide you want to do it more often...we'll see how it goes after the first meeting or two. Since we're announcing today, we've decided the first meeting will happen on Tuesday, February 16, which will give you plenty of time to find and read our assigned book.

WHAT: In keeping with NineteenTeen's theme, we will try to focus on books related to 19th century teens and teen life. That actually gives us a reasonably broad field from which to choose: expect to see everything from Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer to recent YA fiction...and perhaps even some non-fiction as well. We'd like to compile a list to work with, so please send us your suggestions for possible book club books: anyone who sends us a title we decide to add to the list will get one of our NineteenTeen fans as a thank-you.

To start with, we're going for pure fun with Patricia C. Wrede's delightful YA historical fantasy, Mairelon the Magician, which is set in an alternate Regency England where magic is an accepted fact of life. It seems to recently have gone out of print, but is still widely available on the internet at Barnes & Noble, Amazon, half.com, abebooks, or alibris, or at your local library.

So please join us on February 16 to discuss Mairelon the Magician, and don't forget to send in your suggestions for other books we could discuss!

Putting Your Best Foot Forward

Happy New Year!

Think carefully. Who was the first person in your door after midnight last night?

Depending on your family traditions in nineteenth century England, the answer to that question could determine what kind of year you were going to have. The tradition of the First Footer originated in Scotland, but was practiced in the north and other parts of England. Basically the idea was that the first person who walked through your door could, depending on the circumstances, bring you luck for the year.

What constituted the circumstances varied by location. Some folks insisted that the visitor must bring a gift of food. Others had more elaborate traditions where the visitor had to bring symbols of warmth (a lump of coal for the fire), food (anything from bread to red herrings to mine pies to wine or whiskey), and wealth (a silver coin). Some visitors were supposed to remain silent until they had set the coal into the fire; others were supposed to run through the house shouting New Year’s greetings! The tradition was so engrained in some households that families actually tried to game the system by arranging with certain people exactly who would show up at the door so as to ensure their luck.

Most people believed the First Footer must be male, but here again sources differed as to exactly which type of male brought you good luck. Some favored blonds.

Others favored the tall, dark, and handsome.


Frankly, if I had been an unwed young lady eagerly waiting with her family to see who would pop through the door, I wouldn’t turn either of them down. How about you?

Fashion Forecast: 1811

What was the well-dressed young woman wearing in 1811?

A lot of things, as it turns out. 1811 was a banner year for fashion in my opinion because of the all the lovely variations that occurred in women's clothing. No one style predominated, as we'll see happens in later years. For example, look at these high-waisted Evening Dresses from the January 1 edition of Ackermann's Repository (don't you love the way the artist sneaks in a back view?):


But just a couple of months later, this Opera Dress ensemble shows an open jacket-like garment that sits at the natural waist (Ackermann's Repository, March 1):


And there's no waist at all in this Carriage Dress, also from the March 1 edition:

Primrose yellow was definitely in, as can be seen in this sprightly, spring-like, and also waist-less Ball Dress from April 1's Ackermann's:

As in the first image, the focus is on the bust in this pretty pink Full Dress, set back at the natural waist (May 1, Ackermann's Repository):

This elegant Riding Habit also sits at the natural waist. Note the length of the skirt in back, meant to drape gracefully once the rider was ensconced in her side-saddle (Ackermann's Repository, October 1):

Similar to the Opera Dress from March with its yellow over-dress, here's a Walking Dress from October 1st's Ackermann's:

I love this next dress because it is comfortable-looking and handsome...but would you have guessed 1811? (Evening Dress, October 1, Ackermann's Repository):

Again, I think this Walking Dress could have as easily hailed from 1911 as 1811 (and oh-so-cozy with that ermine lining! November 1, Ackermann's Repository):

Equally cozy and charming is this Carriage Dress from November 1's Ackermanns:

Closing out this year of elegance is a Mourning Dress (though I've been unable to figure out for whom mourning was ordered.) I have the descriptive text for this December 1st Ackermann's plate: "A round robe of fine iron-grey cloth or velvet, with long sleeves and demi-high front, trimmed down the center of the figure, at a measured distance, with chenille fur, and clasped in the center, from the bosom to the feet, with lozenge clasps of jet; the belt confined with the same. Antique scolloped ruff of white crape; cuffs to correspond. Hungarian mantle, with double capes, trimmed with chenille fur, composed of the same material as the robe, and ornamented with rich cord and tassels at the throat. A small Eastern turban of grey and silver tissue; short willow feathers (alternately grey and white) drooping on the left side. Ear-rings and neck-lace of jet. Gloves of grey or white kid. Slippers of black queen silk, with jet clasps. Fan of black crape, frosted with silver.--This dress is furnished us by Mrs. Gill, Cork-Street, Burlington Gardens."

What do you think of 1811's clothes?

Happy Christmas!

Marissa and I aren't quite as heavenly as these two darlings from an early Christmas card, but as our Christmas present to you, we offer these two short videos on nineteenth century dancing. The first group is the Quadrille Club, dressed in early nineteenth century costume, dancing to Duval’s lancers at the National Trust’s Ham House to celebrate a Regency Christmas in 2007.



And this group, dressed in later nineteenth century costume, is dancing to the 4th movement of Hart’s Lancers at the Wallace Collection museum in London.



Marissa and I wish you all the very merriest and brightest of Christmases and a wonderful new year full of books to share and family and friends to treasure. We certainly treasure you!

Happy Christmas, all!