Regency Fabrics, Part 5

What fabrics were fashionable in August 1809? Let’s have a look!

As I have in previous posts on Regency fabrics, I’m looking at actual fabric samples glued into several earlier editions of Ackermann’s Repository, samples supplied by the manufacturers and published by Ackermann in order to boost the British cloth-making industry at a time when exporting British goods to Europe was almost impossible because of the Napoleonic war. I'll give you a close-up scan of each sample, the published description if available, and my own observations of the color, weight, condition, and similarity to present-day materials, to give you as close a picture as possible of what these fabrics are like.

Four fabrics are up for August. Their overall condition is good, apart from some foxing in sample No. 4 (the brown spotting you can see on the white stripes.)

 No. 1 exhibits a specimen of that elegant manufacture styled the Irish net, and is particularly well adapted for the dinner and evening dress. The silvery lightness of its texture renders it a most graceful and becoming article in this style of decoration. French cloaks, tippets, and scarfs, with small jockey or poke bonnets to correspond, with variegated green, purple, or grey feathers, have a most light and attractive effect, where formed of this material. It is sold by Mr. George, silk-manufacturer, 19, Holywell-street, Strand, at 6s. per yard, and is half-yard wide.

My comments: This is very aptly called “net” as the weave is quite open, and it would make a lovely scarf. The threads are fine and even, and there is a faint sheen to the fabric. It reminds me almost of the silk gauze used for balloons and parachutes!

No. 2 is another article of new and fashionable adoption, styled Merino crepe, and is calculated also for ladies’ dresses, but in the more intermediate order of personal decoration. The blending of its shades, and its union of silk and worsted, give a sort of distinguishing character to this tasteful article, and render it most appropriate for the approaching autumnal months, when we may venture to pronounce it will be in much fashionable request. Venetian binding and imperial ribbon of the same shades, will be found the most advantageous trimmings for robes formed of this material. It is three-quarters wide, and is sold by the above manufacturer at 5s. per yard.

My comments: The blending of shades mention above are pink (the silk warp) and tan (the woolen weft). The texture is slightly rough and the fabric opaque, thought I expected that it is lightweight enough that it would drape well.

No. 3, the Andalusian washing silk, an article for robes and pelisses, comprising much delicacy of shade and figure, as well as a graceful adhesiveness of quality. Thread lace, in scallop or Vandyke, the Chinese floss trimming, or appliquéd lace beading, are the most tasteful and appropriate embellishments which this pleasing article can admit of. It is three-quarters wide, and 4s. per yard, and is furnished by Messrs. Richards and Co., 37, Oxford-street.

My comments: This is very pretty fabric, light in weight but not see-through, and with a woven diamond pattern reminiscent of dragon scales. It's very smooth and has a soft sheen, and would indeed make a lovely dress.

No. 4 is a printed diamond Marcella quilting, for gentlemen’s waistcoats. On this article there is little need of comment, except to call the attention of our readers to the peculiar delicacy of the printed stripe, which has perhaps rendered it so universal a favourite with men of high fashion. It is three-quarters wide, and from 9s. to 10s. per yard, and is furnished by Messrs. R. Smith and Co. 2 Prince’s-street, Leicester-square.

My comments: We've seen these heavy quilted fabrics for men's waistcoats here and here; this one has a very clear diamond-patterned quilted effect, though it is not actually quilted but woven in. I always find myself envisioning men’s waistcoats from this era as being dark in color, but so far, all the fabrics we’ve seen described as appropriate for waistcoats have been light in color.

Four Things on a Friday: Excerpts!

So many cool items have come to my attention, I had to share them with you.  So, here are four nineteenth century- or reading-related things you need to know:

1. Looking for other nineteenth-century romances to read?  The Bluestocking League, a group of sweet Regency romance authors (sweet as in the books feature nothing more than kisses, although the authors are pretty sweet gals themselves!), is featuring themed excerpts from their books online.  The first two up are “Do let us have a little music,” on the website of inspirational Regency author Camille Elliot and “So you think you can dance,” on my own website.  Check them out--you just might discover a book you have to read.
2. Wondering what else might be out there in the wide wide world of romance books?  Romance Writers of America has a free reader app called Novel Engagement that will help you discover even more authors.  You can browse by keyword, author, title, and more.   
3. Ever wonder who popularized the Regency time period after Jane Austen?  This year marks the 80th anniversary of the modern Regency, as first published by the incomparable Georgette Heyer.  The Beau Monde Chapter of Romance Writers of America is celebrating with a series of discussions about her books.  The most recent is The Grand Sophy.
4. Want to know what was really happening in Washington Territory during the pioneer years?  The Washington Secretary of State has made available digitized copies of newspapers from all along Puget Sound and across Eastern Washington, some dating as early as 1852. I found it was fascinating to read not only the stories, but the advertisements of various businesses and products.  In fact, reading one legal notice gave me an idea for Simon Wallin’s book, which will be out in November or December 2016, after Frontier Engagement (James Wallin) in August 2015 and Instant Frontier Family (Maddie O’Rourke) in January 2016.

May you find many more things to delight you this Friday, my dears!

Fashion Forecast, 1834 Part 1

What was the fashionable miss wearing in the first half of 1834?

Big sleeves, of course! In this Morning Dress at left we see gigot sleeves with giant flounce epaulettes trimmed with dark lace and a high neck with a ruffled frill. The Walking Dress is made along similar lines but with a diagonally pleated bodice. Both have plain skirts; heavy applique decoration around the bottoms of skirts is a thing of the past. Note the heavy mantle in green trimmed with deep lace flounces at right. (The Court Magazine, January):

Here’s a show-stopper of a Dinner Dress from February’s Court Magazine, in pink satin with black lace flounces on the skirt and sleeves and at the cuffs of the gauze oversleeves. The bodice is pink covered with more black lace. The headdress, a simple straw bonnet with ostrich tips and lace lappets, forms a strong contrast. And isn’t the background lovely? These Court Magazine prints are some of the prettiest ever published:

Also from February’s Court Magazine are an Evening Dress of buff with lace trim in both black and white and hectic little black tassels decorating the tops of the sleeves. The hairstyle is gravity-defying—imaging doing that without hairspray! The Full Dress of what looks like a dark and dramatic chintz (perhaps also covered with black lace?) is made in a pelisse style, with a white underskirt and fancy gold belt and white sleeves under the black lace flounces. The bonnet includes an ostrich plume and broad ribbons perhaps of the same chintz as the skirt. Chintz was, incidentally, very “in” this year:

Both this Ball Dress and Opera Dress from April’s Court Magazine rely on lots of white lace frills contrasting with plain fabric to make a statement. The Ball Dress at left features swags of lace up the front of the skirt asn well as frills starting at the V of the bodice and extending up into the sleeves, which are trimmed with large bows which must have fluttered and waved fetchingly during dancing. The gold Opera Dress is remarkably plain in styling, with a large lace-trimmed pelerine with long tailed down the front and forked on the tops of the gauze oversleeves. The dashing little flat bonnet trimmed with ostrich tips and lace is adorable:

Here are a pair of Evening Dresses from May’s Court Magazine. The green dress at left is in the pelisse-robe style with a figured muslin underskirt and bow trimming; with oddly flat, lace-trimmed flaps over the sleeve and a gauze chemisette peeping above the bodice. A snazzy turban trimmed with gold tassels finishes tihngs off. The dress at right of gold-embroidered white satin, with a pleated bodice and sleeves trimmed with more gold embroidery:

Since June is the height of the London Season, a Court Dress is definitely the thing. This one looks almost Tudor, with its overskirt of richly figured fabric over an underskirt and very square bodice and headdress reminiscent of the French Hoods Anne Boleyn was reputedly so fond of...but the full sleeves with deep falls of lace are all 1834, and the headdress feature the requisite three ostrich feather and lappets required of court dress. Stunning! (June, The Court Magazine):

 What do you think of the fashions of the first half of 1834?

May Flowers on May Day

Happy May Day!  Though not a holiday much celebrated in either England or America in the nineteenth century, there were still those hardy souls who clung to the old ways and picked flowers, danced around the May Pole, and handed bouquets to friends and family on May 1.  So, dear friends, here are some flowers I “picked” just for you, courtesy of Hampton Court gardens in England:

And I couldn't resist throwing in this fellow for good measure.

May your May Day be merry!

Still Here, Part 4

In celebration of finishing my WWI set story, I'm presenting another set of ads for products and companies that are, remarkably, still here after nearly (or in some cases, more than) a hundred years:

I use it on appliances, not white shoes, but Bon Ami evidently didn’t scratch then, either (Ladies’ Home Journal, June 1917):

Those seem awfully pointy for men's shoes, don't you think? Florsheim Shoes (The Literary Digest, December 1, 1917):

If you didn't can those berries the way you were supposed to, might as well eat cake! Crisco (Ladies’ Home Journal, June 1917):

For cooking and desserts, yeah, sure.  For eggless mayonnaise...no. Just no. Carnation Milk (Ladies’ Home Journal, June 1917):

Ham, ham, ham, ham. Armour Ham (The Delineator, May 1917):

Thank heavens typhoid and cholera are no longer words frequently seen in product advertising. Lifebuoy Soap (Harper’s Weekly, February 22, 1902):

What I would like to know is just what tests the United States Patent Office ran to prove the board's "efficacy!" Ouija Board (Metropolitan, June 1917):

I love this one. It begins with INFECTION in large, ominous letters...discusses killing multiple types of bugs, assures us that it isn't poisonous, and ends by suggesting consumers write for a free fairy story book.  Uh huh. Black Flag Insect Powder (The Delineator, May 1917):

Just Another Day at the Fort

First, congratulations to Emily W.  She was the only one brave enough to hazard a guess as to the physical models for my hero James and heroine Rina in the upcoming Frontier Engagement.  Yes, indeed, I had Ryan Gosling in mind for James.  I had to look long and hard to find the face of the woman in my head for Rina.  Britain’s Harrie Hayes fit the bill.  Emily W. e-mail me at reginascott@owt.com, and I’ll let you choose from my author stash. 

This past weekend I had the privilege of visiting Fort Nisqually, a living history museum located in Point Defiance Park in Tacoma, Washington.  While some of the buildings actually date from the mid-1800s, the fort is a recreation of one that was built near the Nisqually delta by the Hudson’s Bay Company before Washington was a territory.  Last weekend the Fort hosted a special event that focused on sowing (planting, harvesting, cooking) and sewing (needlework, clothing, textiles).  There were dozens of reenactors going about their day-to-day duties in period clothing dating from the 1850s.  Many had specialties, in cooking, in clothing, in bonnets, in gardening.  And they were all willing to answer endless questions from an absolutely fascinated romance writer.

So, what did I learn from my visit?

Pioneers in Washington Territory had no need for horse shoes.  This is one of those palm-to-forehead moments.  Of course the horses didn’t need shoes!  As the blacksmith so eloquently put it, the closest paved road was in San Francisco (and I’m not too sure there were many there!).

Camas plants with blue flowers are edible; camas plants with white flowers are poisonous.  I had read about camas, a plant prized by Native Americans for its pulpy potato-like bulb.  It has more protein per ounce than a steelhead.  I had never seen one until this trip, and then I discovered them growing in the nature preserve near my home!

Wild sweet William (soapwort or saponaria) can be used to create a much nicer soap than boiling fat and adding lye. It smells good, and it’s a lot easier on the skin.

The British settlers still imported much of what they needed from England, including panes of glass for windows.  The glass would come in barrels packed in molasses. A favored clerk was appointed to unpack the glass; he got to keep the molasses!

As you can probably tell, I highly recommend a visit to the Fort if you are in the area.  On May 16 the members will be celebrating Queen Victoria’s birthday.  August 8 and 9, there will be a live camp-in to recreate the historic visit of fur traders to the fort in 1855. You can learn more here. 

Argh, Matey! Or, An Ackermann before Ackermann’s?

Okay, I believe we have by now established that I am perhaps just a little captivated by early 19th century periodicals...and perhaps just a little bit more captivated by Ackermann’s Repository of the Arts in particular, that popular magazine published between 1809 and 1829, a fascinating era in British social history. And ohmigosh, the fashion prints—they’re pure eye candy! The detail, the coloring, the descriptions—just delicious. Historical research isn’t always this much fun.

I recently obtained a new print for my Ackermann collection, an Evening Dress in pink with a yellow overdress with train (not my favorite color combination, but tastes change...). The text at the bottom reads “EVENING DRESS London published as the Act directs June 1803 by R. Ackermann, at 101 Strand.” The quality of the engraving is far below Ackermann’s later standards in the Repository: the details of the overdress are just sort of squiggled, and the headdress is rather shapeless; only the wearer’s face is carefully depicted.

But “Wow!” I thought. “An Ackermann fashion print from six years before he brought out the Repository! How awesome is that?” Well, pretty awesome, of course...but being who we are at NineteenTeen, I wanted to know more. Had Ackermann brought out other fashion prints before 1809?

So I did a little digging on line, and found prints in a similar style from 1803 from Le Miroir de la Mode, a short-lived publication by Madame Lanchester, a well-known London modiste who would one day serve as Ackermann’s chief fashion consultant for the Repository. The Lanchester prints are much larger and more finely detailed, which makes me think that what I have here is...well, a pirated copy of a print from Le Miroir.

Copyright law as we know it simply did not exist in 1803, and printmakers and booksellers constantly stole content and republished it. That uber-bestseller serial from 1820, The History of Tom and Jerry; or the Day and Night Scenes of Life in London by Pierce Egan, had been pirated within twelve hours of its first appearance in bookshops. Not bad, even by modern bootlegging standards.

Nor was an ocean any barrier to pirating: check out this print from the English The Court Magazine in 1833...

...and this print from the American Godey’s Lady’s Book in 1834:

So...ahem...might we have here a less-than-official version of Madame Lanchester’s work? Or does the text at the bottom of the print "publish as the Act directs" mean Ackermann had some sort of permission to reprint?  I don’t know for certain so I did a little more on-line searching, and see that while the term appears on many prints in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, I could not find an explanation of what it means. So was Ackermann a pirate? I don't know...but it's looking a little suspicious!