#are they even accurate to victorian london era clothes

[thegreatyin]

Extremely Sketchy™ fallen london OC mockup page because i had to share my vision. behold. the scoundrel. left being normal design notes and right being future design notes in which they are decidedly more furry about it all. any questions

[realallthingsdowntonabbey]

The “Great Horse Manure Crisis of 1894.” 

And now it’s time for another History Wednesday! Today, we’re going to talk about the “Great Horse Manure Crisis of 1894.”  😊

When your thoughts turn to transportation on the Victorian London streets (well, that’s what mine do a lot of the time, anyway,) what’s the first thing you think of? You probably picture all those beautiful horses prancing around. Dashing Victorian swells riding horses, horses pulling hackney carriages and expensive private carriages, horses delivering goods by wagon and cart, horse-drawn hansom cabs and omnibuses and trams. Horses, horses everywhere. And this is an accurate picture, because throughout the entire Victorian period, people either took horse-drawn transportation, or they walked. There were very, very few exceptions to this, right up to the end of Victoria’s reign.

So by the late 19th century, there were around 50,000 horses on the streets on London every day. These horses were eating 20 lbs of food and 8 gallons of water every day. And, well, I think we all know what would happen then. They produced over 150,000 pounds of horse manure and 15.000 gallons of urine every single day. Then there was the fact that each working horse had a life expectancy of only about 3 years, and they had a tendency to drop dead in the street. In poorer neighborhoods, they could lie around for quite a while.

This wasn’t just a problem in London. New York City had almost twice as many horses on the streets 24/7, producing, you guessed it, twice as much waste. It kind of gives a new meaning to the concept of the “Gilded Age,” doesn’t it? In 1894, the London Times newspaper predicted that “In 50 years, every street in London will be buried under nine feet of manure.” The population was larger than ever before, around 6 million people, and there had never been so many horses on the streets. This became known as the ‘Great Horse Manure Crisis of 1894.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be solved for a while. Technically, the London Underground existed through the later era, the first line opening in 1863. But in practical terms, it didn’t even begin to amount to much until halfway through Edwardian times. It definitely did not take the pressure off all the horse traffic in London before the turn of the century. Cars began to appear after 1896, but they were rarely seen until around 1912, which was the turning point. Ironically, cars were thought of as much cleaner and more hygienic. And when you picture 150,000 lbs. of horse poo per day, it’s easy to see why. For eight years, London was at a crisis point with horse waste. Can you imagine living in this?? Between horse pee and poo, arsenic in clothing and wallpaper, and dangerous fogs so thick that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, it’s a wonder anyone survived the 19th century!

[lady-griffin]

As a fanfiction writer, I've noticed that one of the hardest things personally for me to pin down is an accurate guess regarding Hamefura's time period in relation to our world which makes it harder to decide certain aspects of a fic if it wants to get into world building (and have Katarina start and agricultural revolution). I've always appreciated the analysis work you do for Hamefura and was wondering if you had any guesses?

I would say there is no exact parallel to one of our time periods. Largely because there is a clear mix of concepts and aesthetics from older periods to later periods and even some modern ideas thrown in there.

That being said I think I found a decent enough match.

While Katarina (and many fans) describe it as a medieval setting, it is definitely not that. I would put the time period of Hamefura overall in the 18th and 19th centuries. 1700s & 1800s.

This is based off a few things.

Fashion

While not a clear comparison, the aesthetics of the different fashion trends of these two centuries are the closest to Hamefura’s own fashion styles - for the guys and gals.  

It’s not perfect

Some of the characters’ fashions are clearly just a general idea of “old-timey” fashion. And other characters’ fashion are more modern (or seem to be inspire by some later periods) – Alan, Maria, Sirius, Duchess Claes, and Katarina’s Merchant’s daughter outfit for example.

Alan’s style of clothing is extremely modern in concept.  So, it’s clearly a mix-and-match situation when it comes to fashion.

--

Books/Bookstores

Books are commonly and widely available. Not just for the rich, like Sophia and Katarina. We know this because there doesn’t seem to be much of an issue (or any) for Katarina’s maids and or Maria to gain access to books. As a maid in the Claes estate was the one who introduced romance novels to Katarina in the first place.

While again, not exact, the kind of reading and books we see in Hamefura works with 18th/19th century.  

Serialized fiction (and books in general) surged in popularity during Britain's Victorian era (1837-1901), due to a combination of the rise of literacy, technological advances in printing, and improved economics of distribution.

Also, while romance stories are far from anything new (have been around since stories) – the concept of marrying for love (despite social class) was an idea that was popular in fiction around the the time period – for example, being Pride and Prejudice (1813).

The book-stores we see in Hamefura (very briefly) are very similar to, well, modern book stores.

James Lackington (1746-1815) and his once-famous London bookshop, The Temple of the Muses, basically “invented” modern-day bookselling as we know it. During his time James completely revolutionized the concept of bookselling in the late 18th century. And considering the rise in books and literacy, other book-shops began to follow.

--

Sweets/Bake Shops

We know that high quality pastries/sweets can be bought at stores (students buy them for Student Council). 

I think this one is the least exact, as Patisseries have been around for some time, there is some parallel. 

 Marie-Antoine Carême (1784-1833) is considered to be one of the early practitioners of “modern Patisseries” (what we really see in Hamefura) and fine-dining, though he’s more known for Grande Cuisine.

His elaborate creations graced the windows of his Paris patisserie shop.

This is what we see in Hamefura.

So while the history is far from an exact match, the kind of stores that already existed and started to exist during this time are very similar from what the stores that we see in Hamefura, in regards to sweets 

--

Love – Marriages of Love

In the 5th Light Novel, we learn that nobles falling in love and choosing to get married to one another (not arranged) is a concept that is becoming more and more popular. Particularly among the younger nobles around Katarina’s age.

As Katarina witnesses several couples being romantic to one another, who are not currently engaged to one another or not in arranged marriages.

The ideal of love as a primary reason for marriage began to spread in the late 18th century and early 19th century, partly due to the French and American revolutions - Enlightenment thinkers in this era promoted the right to personal happiness. And going back to books, this might be another reason p why love stories became so popular among the public as literacy and book technology grew in this time.

So, while Arrange marriages certainly exist in Hamefura (obviously) – the importance of love also matters.

Take Geordo and Katarina’s arranged marriage, for instance. Despite them being 8, the two of them made the match together. It wasn’t arranged by the King or Katarina’s parents in the traditional sense of an arranged marriage.

Sure, Luigi Claes set up a meeting with Geordo for Katarina (a match-making meeting) and we know there was pressure coming down on Geordo to get a fiancé (due to his older brothers being engaged), but still the decision was largely between Katarina and Geordo.

Geordo proposed and Katarina accepted.

Now on the other hand, while never stated. it seems likely Geordo had to get the King’s Approval before he proposed and Katarina’s parents also had to agree to the match. But again, their engagement is still rather unique, in that it wasn’t decided by their parents and they had no say in the matter at all.

Now on the other hand, the arranged marriage for Alan and Mary seems like it was largely set up by their parents, so the two of them have a much more traditional arrangement. Now that might just come down to Geordo being far more independent than Alan is, when it comes to his person affairs.

We we know Luigi Claes (from the novels) sent a letter to Geordo asking for him to meet with Katarina, while he probably also sent it to the king as well – we are never told that explicitly, so we can’t say for sure.

But to the main point, overall, the concept of marrying someone for love is clearly an idea that is growing in popularity in the world of Hamefura.

In Fortune Lover, Geordo wants to break off his engagement to Katarina when he falls in love with Maria. If Maria is successful in Alan’s route, Mary breaks of their engagement so the two can be together.

In the current timeline, Alan tries to break off the engagement with Mary, because he’s not in love with her.

Geordo, clearly wants Katarina to love him back and not just marry him because she has too.

Nicol’s parents want him (and Sophia) to fall in love and marry for love.  

Geordo, Alan, and Nicol in Fortune Lover were all able to end up with Maria with no problem, for the most part.  

Now, because there is a dual system of power and status (based on nobility and magic) – Maria being a Light Weilder and a powerful one at, automatically raises her profile to being more than an acceptable marriage partner for a noble (my belief).

So, the idea of being with someone for love is more common for Katarina and her peers than their parents’ generation.

Luigi and Miridiana’s father arranged the marriage between the two – Though Luigi did fall in love with her before the marriage, but because the marriage wasn’t decided by the two of them along nor did they have much of a relationship – their marriage suffered from a lot of miscommunication.

Dan and Radea(?) Ascart, the parents of Nicol and Sophia, married for love. Though we learn we learn in the 5th novel that Radea was already engaged to another man and Dan made a deal with her father – basically if he could become the prime minister, he would be allowed to marry her.

While not like modern times, marrying for love is a concept that is growing and becoming more of the norm in the world of Hamefura.

--

Technology

Due to the character of Larna Smith, technology (based on magic) in Hamefura is getting quite the revolution.

One of her inventions, using Wind Magic, is a phone.

Italian innovator Antonio Meucci is credited with inventing the first basic phone in 1849, while Alexander Graham was the first US Patent for the device in 1876.

-

Based on the comic in the 6th Light Novel, we know Nicol’s most treasure possession is a Fountain Pen his father gave him.

And given the fact that we see Katarina writing with a quill, the two types of writing utensils existing with one another was happening in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Now Fountain Pens, have a longer history than that. But basically, due to them not being the most stable or consistent way of writing, it seems like in Western Societies (Hamefura), that them being coming commonplace took over a period of time, as the technology improved bit by bit.

Nicol’s Fountain Pen seems to be an excellent one that works great. But we can assume that since Dan Ascart is an Earl and Prime Minister, he has more access to such technology than other people.

--

Conclusion

I was surprised that a lot of what we see in Hamefura, actually does match or more accurately fit within the general existence of these two centuries nicely. Not always an exact match, but the overall ideas and changes in the 18th and 19th century are a nice parallel to what we see in Hamefura.

It’s a broad span of time (around 200 years), but that’s my thinking.

In full disclosure, I did some light research on the matter – so I apologize for any historical mistakes (and grammar/spelling). 

To be clear, I don’t think Hamefura fitting in the 18th-19th centuries (particularly in Western Culture) was really intentional on the Author’s Part.

We see that the general style of dress in Hamefura, is popular amongst many manga/anime/Mahwha that have an aristocratic setting. And just a lot of general world-building in such stories, basically take a loose idea form these two time periods, rather than be historically based on them. 

And since Fortune Lover is a love game and Hamefura is a romantic-comedy, love would of course be of upmost importance despite the restricted aristocratic status. And falling in love despite said restrictions is definitely a more prevalent modern idea.

So, it’s all probably unintentional. I mean, they probably were inspired by the these two centuries, but more in a general idea of their story-world, rather than a specific time-period setting.  But still it’s a nice overall fit.

Also, the 18th-19th Century setting works rather nicely with your idea of Katarina starting an Agriculture Revolution.

 Thanks for the question Anon! I hope this helped you out!

[victoriandrawings]

Assassin’s Creed Syndicate

I got AC Syndicate last weekend and I must say oh my GODS this game is beautiful! It is my favourite so far (of the games I’ve played). The detail is phenomenal. So far it is set in 1868 in London, England. What makes it better is that the 1860s is my favourite decade from the Victorian era so I’m basically just fangirling about everything the whole time I’m playing. The clothing on the NPCs is actually accurate (much to my surprise) which makes it even more enjoyable. The dresses on the middle to upper class ladies are in the transitional stage of elliptical crinoline to bustle which I adore. The men are wearing the incredibly popular, ridiculously tall top hats. The pants aren’t just plain, straight legged slacks, they actually have patterns (including the popular tartan/plaid look). People are dressed colourfully and I love it so much. The grahics are beautiful. The details on the carriages and buildings and just everything is absolutely brilliant. I enjoy that they put ad covered omnibuses in. I cannot fully express how much I love this game. I adore Jacob. He’s so sassy and he just loves the horses so much. He has a gigantic gang, murders people every day, and yet he is so gentle and sweet to the horses. Evie is adorable with her freckles and green eyes but I don’t particularly like how much of a hardass she is and the fact that practically every man so far just seems to instantly get a crush on her. And she’s not that nice to the horses. Very gruff. Very demanding. You cannot comprehend how annoyed I was at Jacob’s original outfit (the one he starts the game in). All the patches and how unkempt it was got on my nerve so much I literally wanted to sew him a whole new wardrobe. Then I realized that there was another one he could wear and I felt much better.

[xathia-89]

One of Fourteen Million, Six Hundred and Five Ways

This is a commissioned piece by @muggzc who asked me for The Doctor interfering with the Avengers during one of the failed scenarios that Dr Strange saw. 

This is a long piece, but one I am very happy with. Just a reminder that I am open to commissions, and I believe I don’t have anything in the works either. So please feel free to message me to find out what I do! Because not even my blog holds everything. 

Angst warning. Endgame Spoilers. And introducing my OC Darcy.

When he had offered me a chance to go for a trip in his TARDIS after doing a particularly elaborate dress that even Queen Victoria would have been jealous of, I couldn’t yell ‘lunch break’ at my boss and colleague quickly enough before grabbing my bag to get in. This was my third version of the Doctor to work for, but only one of the rare chances that he didn’t have a companion already with him, and when I didn’t have any rush jobs to work on. I worked as a costumer, with a specialisation in restoring clothes. Not that many people these days had the clothes to restore, but my knowledge of Victorian and Georgian styles did mean I could make the clothing accurate. Add in the popularity of period dramas and such; we were rarely out of work to do. The first version I had met spoke with a refined accent found mostly around London, dark brown hair that was usually styled into a quiff, and seemed to have more than a few companions. He was always out and about, demanding everything almost last minute and bringing back things for repairs with burn holes, bullet holes, bloodstains along with the usual rips and tears in fabrics. Then when I met the next incarnation, it blew my mind to learn that actually, he wasn’t anything like what we usually catered to. Then he began to describe my mother and grandmother and how they had been just as talented, and it must have been a family trait when he recognised my surname. The change from suits to a tweed jacket and the bow tie was surprising, but then it wasn’t as though they were the same person. Each incarnation was a new generation was akin to how the Doctor explained it, though it didn’t change how the outfits would come back to me for repairs. My boss and colleague were more than happy to let me deal with the incidents and problems that occurred with sorting out the clothing from the man, as long as there wasn’t a higher paying customer to prioritise since the Doctor had a TARDIS to time travel about with. 

Then the grumpy Scotsman turned up, claiming to be the Doctor. It didn’t help that my first name had escaped his memory, though the bright pink hair I was partial to stuck in his head, and he started pointing and yelling at me the second I was seen from the back of my head. My boss was less than willing to hear him out until he started calling me a ruin and we all began to then ask questions about what work we had done in the past. His companion then appeared, and I would recognise Clara anywhere. 

Not that he appreciated my demands for him to settle his account before we began any more serious work as I took measurements for them both, and then tightened my tape measure around his waist when he began to object. Clara was amused at least, and we got the money we were owed. 

Something had changed, but he wasn’t one to talk about it. He was on his own, Bill was gone, Clara wasn’t there, and I wasn’t sure he wanted to go on an adventure by himself. 

Landing on a military base in the 1970s America wasn’t my idea of an adventure, but the TARDIS had decided it was where we were needed. Quite literally. 

I was tipped out and tripped all sorts of alarms. We were surrounded in seconds, and naturally, the TARDIS fled the scene of the crime. They couldn’t arrest us quickly enough, and then we were marched off to a holding cell, where two somewhat familiar faces were already present. 

“You can join back with your buddies here, while we decide what to do with you all anyway,” the guard chuckled, highly pleased with himself as the door was locked behind us and then our cuffs were taken off. 

I rubbed my wrists, the metal had dug in a little with the overly enthusiastic handling of the men while trying to convince myself that I wasn’t sharing with who I thought I was. There just wasn’t the chance of it being genuinely possible. 

“So we have you two to thank for the alarms going off then?” It was a voice that made so many women swoon, as a character that just oozed power, money and control. It would have panties dropping anywhere he went, but that was his character, not the actor. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“Well we didn’t really get to choose where we were dropped off,” the Doctor wasn’t going to let this slide. I was trying to hide behind my hands, willing to wake up at any moment and stop my brain from exploding. This was more than a crossing of times and space, this was heading for the fantasy realms, and my reality would not allow it to be true. 

“How long before the tesseract is lost to us?” The blond man stepped in, separating the other man from the Doctor, and confirmed what I knew. This was not the universe I knew for sure. 

“I don’t know, the longer we’re here then, the better chances of us being stuck here instead of going back to 2019,” Stark eventually replied, glowering with ferocity at us for the disruption we’d caused. 

“What’s happening in 2019 that’s so important? When is this?” The Doctor liked his questions. They always did as I dared to speak for the first time in an age. 

“Thanos, he happens in 2019,” I whispered, before tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Thanos makes half of the planet just disappear, and there isn’t anything anyone can do about it.” 

Having the attention of three very ‘powerful’ men wasn’t something I was used to. I liked working in the back to avoid the spotlight. Then it was the usual service. 

“Well, we need to get out of this cell anyway. We can’t stop anyone from in here,” the Doctor replied, throwing his arms out as though to command the situation. 

“Great idea, how are we leaving then?” Tony Stark sarcastically invited the Doctor to inspect the door with a flourish of his arm. Not that the Doctor would remember about his sonic screwdriver being back in action anyway. 

“If you give me a minute, then maybe we could be on our way,” this wasn’t going to end any time soon as I threw my hood up to try and hide myself from the scene. “It looks like a fairly simple lock to bust, a little bit of a twist with some wire and we should be free.”

“Only this is S.H.I.E.L.D. we are talking about; nothing would be that simple. We would be triggering an escape alarm at the very least, and possibly inviting for us to all be shot on sight,” Tony scorned. 

“I don’t see you coming up with a better idea,” it was akin to watching two children as I tried to make myself a little more comfortable on the cement bench that was trying to pass as more comfortable than the floor to sit on. I was playing with the toggle of my hoodie, while Steve was watching them with a slightly amused expression on his face. But from my experience and knowledge of the man, then he was also feeling the same level of exasperation that I was as Tony was now trying to bait the Doctor into the trap. 

“Why don’t you two make out if your feelings are mutual?” I finally had enough of trying to tune them out and snapped a little, sharply tugging on my cord and snapping the plastic bead off the end with the force I used. It clattered to the floor before I stood up, and began instantly frisking the Doctor’s interior coat pockets. I held up the sonic screwdriver to him with raised eyebrows. “That should be able to override the security systems, and as much as I know, the 1970s doesn’t really have any quality camera recordings.” 

“I knew I had that,” the Doctor frowned, snatching the sonic back off me and tutting as he turned towards the door. 

It took a few seconds, but I was confident in the screwdriver if not in the Doctor’s abilities that it was all overridden now. 

“Where do we go now?” The Doctor was trying to think out loud, inviting the other men to intervene and hoping that they knew where we were more than we did. 

“I forgot to memorise the map of this place,” Tony laughed. “I knew I should have paid more attention to things,” he was playing antagonist now and agitating the Doctor. And I knew that he wouldn’t just leave things be either. 

I took a deep breath before barging out of the door and taking a sharp right turn. There wasn’t any way to guarantee we were getting far as my mind was already trying to replay the successful storyline over in my head. Tony and Steve would need to get the tesseract away in the briefcase and past Howard Stark and all of the security team. How they had gotten caught was puzzling, but it wasn’t going to be solved by sitting in the cell and listening to Stark and the Doctor argue. A quick glance backwards and I knew I wasn’t on my own at least; Steve must have felt something similar to be going with a complete stranger out of the cell he had been held in. 

It didn’t take too long before the four of us were joined up like some band of misfits, though it was a strange thought for me to possibly be seen as dressed in the weirdest of combinations given our location and timing. The Doctor could pass as an eccentric old man, and Steve and Tony were dressed for the era. Though my mind was dangerously close to exploding at processing where we were. 

“Just who are you two anyway?” Tony wouldn’t let it drop. “And more importantly, why do they all assume the four of us were together before we ended up in that cell?”

“Statistically it’s less likely that they have one group of four people breaking in than two groups of two people, so it follows some common logic to group us all together,” the Doctor rambled off as we waited in a storage room for a chance to ascertain where we were aside from just knowing it was the ‘detention level’. 

“Otherwise known as ‘Hi, I’m the Doctor, and this is my current companion, Darcy’,” I smiled extra brightly over my shoulder at Stark, knowing that the Doctor certainly wasn’t in the mood to introduce us to them. 

“So, how did you get here? And how did you get the alarms tripped to the point we were arrested as well?” Tony was persistent; I had to give him that. 

“The TARDIS decided to tip us out, quite literally in the compound, in front of all of the soldiers, I have no idea why they assumed we would be working with you,” the Doctor wasn’t here to make friends today, apparently, as I hung my head dejectedly. 

“Will you try to play nice?” I asked, tilting my head now back towards the Doctor, with a forced smile on my face. It did seem to get my message across as I began to work my way deeper into the room. People would keep all sorts in storerooms because they didn’t want to part with them, or they were too confidential to risk doing anything but burning. Not that they would handily have a bag marked ‘confidential waste’ for us, that would be far too simple and only happen in the movies. 

The vents may get us a better view; it wasn’t something that tended to be alarmed yet. Even in facilities like S.H.I.E.L.D., there was still a limit to what technology was ongoing. The sound of footsteps meant the boys were silent for once; it was the only peace and quiet I was ever going to get until we got out of here and successfully completed the mission. I had the feeling that the TARDIS had dumped us here as part of the millions of scenarios that Doctor Strange had seen. I wasn’t expecting to need to use my film-watching skills to get us through anything; it was usually the Doctor taking control and making the decisions. We were all holding our breath, anyone could quickly come in here and ruin everything we had done, but we were counting on someone having our back in some deity. Even if it was just to see how far we got before we screwed it up. 

I frisked the Doctor’s pockets again before he could stop me. I knew that coat as well as he did, I’d repaired it that many times, so I knew exactly where his hidden pockets were as I lifted the sonic screwdriver off him. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing with that?” The Doctor was getting exasperated as I began to climb on board of a dusty old desk behind some filing cabinets. 

“Getting into the vents,” I shrugged, shoving the sonic towards the screws, disabling any possibility of the system being hooked up to them already. “And I can’t see anyone else fitting into here so let me go and find out where we are and how to get out of here,” I argued, before pulling myself up into the metal ventilation system. “I would love to swear I am currently not here, and this is definitely a movie thing, but I am currently in a fricking movie!” I muttered to myself before making the decision to try the vent going in the opposite direction from where we had come from the cells. It was all worth a shot anyway. 

Every chance I had to try and pinpoint us, it was all looking the same. I was overseeing desks, or boxes and filing cabinets, there was nothing distinguishable for me to see. I could be going around in squares for all I knew as I was trying to keep any noise I made to a minimum. It was hard to shuffle about quickly without raising suspicion. I heard the occasional mutterings about the venting being noisier than usual, but no one seemed to deem it a necessity to investigate at least. I was starting to feel desperation sink in; this was a top-secret military base, why would they mark anything? It was all for the need to know, and infiltrators were definitely not need to know. 

“They aren’t in the cells,” a crisp voice caught my attention, coming from nearby as I crept slowly forward, panic began to set in. “So do us all a favour, and find them, now,” I caught sight of someone I definitely hadn’t been expecting to see. 

Loki, in that freshly pressed and neatly kept suit. He looked authoritative; no one would want to question him, ideal for him to get onto the base without a thought. I couldn’t see who he had given the order to, a lackey of sorts but we weren’t alone in this, and Loki knew what we were doing. 

I had to just forget about the part where he was a God. 

That smirk, it was swoon-worthy in the cinemas, to know that it wasn’t Tom Hiddlestone playing the part and had locked his sights onto me in the ventilation system, it was terrifying as I was frozen in place. It took him seconds to break through the metal grate; I couldn’t get out of his grasp as I tried to find something to hang onto, anything to hold to stop him carrying me off like I weighed nothing to him. 

“What’s this?” He was holding the sonic screwdriver alight, studying it with intrigue, before he smiled back at me. His eyes were black, they were pitless, and there was no hope in it for me. “Well then, I think you need to come with me,” I had been struck by fear keeping me still, but the thought of being carried off terrified me more. 

All of my struggles did nothing for me. Loki had me hoisted over his shoulder, bound and gagged with that magic of his, and strolling away like this was normal. I knew that Loki was the God of mischief, he was able to impersonate individuals from a glance, and no one would think to question one of the top star generals. Even if he was carrying a woman about in a strange manner. All I could do was not to give up. I kept pounding my wrists into his back, flailing my legs about wildly until I nearly cracked my head on the pavement. 

I couldn’t pin the other man I was facing, but I had a strong feeling that the tesseract was in the briefcase in his hands. The compound around us was intrigued momentarily; then it was almost as though we didn’t exist. Eyes would glass over us, people would walk past, and the three of us were in a one-way mirror. I would have guessed we were invisible, but I was doubtful of anyone having the ability to do that even in the Marvel Universe. But I had two sets of eyes on me, and the sonic screwdriver was in Loki’s possession. 

“Intruder alert! Be on the lookout for three men and one woman who have infiltrated the base and broken from their holding cell! Assume they are armed and extremely dangerous.” 

The speakers all crackled to life and set every personnel on fire. Guns were everywhere, but not one of them was pointed at me. I was already trying to think of what powers were available, and how I could shatter it, but the other man picked me up and passed the briefcase to Loki. The Asgardian God was looking so pleased with himself. I couldn’t let it end like this. Loki with the tesseract would bring about so much destruction; he had already proven that several years previously in bringing the Chitauri army through a portal made by it to New York. 

Then a door bust open behind us with a loud explosion, and Chris, Tony and the Doctor were all in the centre of the chaos. It removed the magic or whatever for long enough for the three of them to lock eyes onto our position, and then the TARDIS captured the attention of the base. 

I didn’t want to think about what S.H.I.E.L.D. could do with the technology of a TARDIS. I knew they were secretly Hydra, hiding out until they could gather enough power to be able to call the likes of Captain America a threat to security and freedom. The possibilities were endless. They would be able to take themselves to whenever to gather all the technology to ensure they won. The thought of that was making my stomach drop through my feet, nevermind if Loki decided he wasn’t satisfied with the sonic screwdriver. 

I wouldn’t stay still, I was fighting the magic binding me together, trying to pull my wrists apart, or my ankles now that Loki had taken the leg flailing of earlier to be something to cease. I was acting out of my terrified imagination. The three of them were trying to figure out where we were until Loki just calmly walked off base without a thought. He wasn’t concerned; it was going according to his plan. He’d even gained some extra shinies, as whatever it was keeping us out of sight was dropped. 

I wanted to scream; I was trying to break the gag. I didn’t know what it was made of, and I didn’t care right now. I needed the Doctor to know that Loki had the tesseract and the sonic. I didn’t want to think about how much power was at his disposal. I saw the TARDIS disappear, and that was when Loki had his interest in that old-looking wooden box. 

“What was that?” He asked his ‘friend’, though it was obvious who was in charge. 

“Ask her, I have no idea,” the man shook his head, gesturing wildly to me before turning to the control panels of the ship that they had commandeered.

The magic disappeared, allowing me to breathe freely, but the demanding pressure of God didn’t mean I could feel easy. 

“Answer me, girl,” Loki’s tone would have frozen Australia during a heatwave. It made me stiffen without a thought. I had been in less intimidating situations with the Daleks, and I would take the thought of the Cyberman trying to make me one of their own instead of being anywhere near Loki. “I said, answer me!” His foot stamped down straight in front of me, making the floor under me vibrate, and my entire mental system was in panic mode. 

I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. I was ashamed of myself at the moment. I knew what he wanted to know, but I couldn’t even bring myself to think of replying. My mouth was dry and frozen shut, and I was shaking with fear. I focused on the ground, trying to pretend that if I couldn’t see him, then he couldn’t see me. 

“You will answer me when your friends are the ones under my boot, like the tiny ants they are,” Loki sharply replied, spinning around to navigate the strange man to someplace. I was left without the gag but bound up on the floor. It was easier to tilt my hips, and fall onto my side, the pins and needles easing after I was able to straighten my legs and move them a little before rolling onto my back. If either of the men cared, it didn’t show. Not that I was sure why I would think that they would care. There wasn’t much for me to do; I didn’t know where I was or where the Doctor was. I knew the sonic screwdriver was with Loki, and I dreaded to think of the possibility that it would be passed into the hands of Thanos, along with the tesseract. The thought was terrifying, and this wasn’t my timeline or story to persevere with. 

I was sharply hoisted by the back of my jacket, a gag weaving around my mouth the moment we had landed. I was being carried off the ship with no grace, and then I saw the TARDIS. Relief, the smallest of hope in me as I saw the Doctor jump out with a determination in his step I only saw when he knew he had others depending on him. Tony and Steve came out with the same expressions everyone wore after their first trip in the TARDIS, disbelief that it was that size as they both spun around to check that it hadn’t grown in size before spotting Loki with me in hand, and presumably the tesseract in the briefcase in his other hand. 

“I believe you have something of mine!” The Doctor would never let anyone get away with his things. “And I need it back.”

“The girl? I can give her back straight away,” Loki laughed back, thrusting me out, so I was dangling over the edge of the structure. I had no idea where we were, but I was not safe at this height. Hitting the ground from here would kill me, and it wouldn’t be pretty. I would have seconds of terror before a sad end. “Oh? You seem to want for me to keep her alive; she did have this intriguing little gadget in her hand. I had to take that into my possession, of course, it would have been foolish to allow her to keep it when I don’t know what it does, and she won’t tell me.”

“I need her and my screwdriver back,” the Doctor was already several steps ahead of me. “It won’t work for anyone else.” 

“So why did she have it then?” 

The scorn in Loki’s voice was evident before I was carelessly tossed to the other man. 

“Make them talk,” Loki ordered, taking the sonic out of his coat pocket to inspect the device. “I want to know what the box is, as well.” 

“Why are you doing this?” I didn’t know where my voice came from, the gag shattering against all my struggles. 

“Why not?” Loki’s smile was the most terrifying thing in existence. Being in such close quarters to it was only confirming that I had no idea about what fear truly was. This was no ordinary man; he was a God. “Mysterio is twisting all of your friends’ senses. They think you’re hanging off the edge, held by the throat and gasping for every breath, the second it looks like you’re about to pass out, he brings you back just to regain your consciousness before repeating it. I’m sure you’re a smart girl. I could have him do that for real.”

“Why don’t you then?” 

I had no idea where this bravery was coming from. I had no inclination to die, but there had to be a reason why the other man was casting illusions instead of using me as the actual bait. 

“Because I need you to keep them in one place. We are going to learn what this device is, and leave with it and the tesseract, you will be far enough away that they cannot chase us,” Loki’s plan made complete sense. “I will let you all live in exchange for the information; you could stop it right now by telling me.”

“You’re bluffing,” I croaked, trying to keep that tiniest of flames of hope inside of me. “You think that the Doctor will let you just walk away with his screwdriver?” 

“I do, actually. In exchange for your life. You, humans, are so sentimental.”

“He’s not human,” I snapped, glaring at him with everything I had. “He’s a Timelord, and he will not let you get away with this.” 

“I don’t know what a timelord is, nor do I care. I know he will give in to the sentiments of keeping you alive.”

“Please, I will tell you what you need to know, just don’t drop her from there,” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Loki’s expression changed to one of victory, a wide smirk at me as he opened his arms wide in triumph before a cackle began. It was the day the Doctor lost. 

“That is a sonic screwdriver; it can unlock anything electrical, it can tell you anything you want to know about where you are, it can hack into virtually any system. It can deflect most powers and attacks, it can interception teleportations, it can send out its own communications, it can burn or cut most substances, disarm weapons and computers, control atoms and molecules, make a force field for protection, download a person’s consciousness and transfer it to a computer, it can do so much even I don’t know the extent of its abilities. Please, don’t drop Darcy.” 

He sounded so broken; he’d needed to bow down to someone else in possession of his sonic, in lieu of a companion’s life. 

“Only if we are walking away from here with the sonic screwdriver, and the tesseract,” Mysterio finally made a declaration. I could see it was pushing him to keep going with the maintaining of the illusion. Loki had kept me close enough that all I would need is a shove off the building, and I would be plummeting to my death. 

“No, the tesseract-” I forgot that Steve and Tony were with the Doctor. 

“This is not up for negotiation. Are you willing to bet her life over this? Could you do that?” Loki was enjoying himself, basking in the glory of the moment as my tears couldn’t stop falling down my cheeks. 

“Yes, please, don’t hurt her,” the Doctor was desperate, all over me. I had caused this. 

The illusion was dropped, and I had to watch Mysterio and Loki just walk away, my binds still holding me together as the three men dashed back into the TARDIS. There wouldn’t be enough time to stop them, as the stolen vessel began to take off, and threw the blue box out of its intended stopping point. It was on its side and shattered into a million pieces, the Doctor, Steve and Tony all realising the same thing as they picked themselves out of the wreckage. 

Maybe this was one of the scenarios where Thanos wins. 

[rejectedprincesses]

Mary Patten (1837-1861): The First American Woman to Command a Ship

The first American woman to command a ship was a pregnant teenager. She did it while fighting off a mutiny, nursing an incapacitated husband, and braving gale-force winds.

She was 19.

Mary Ann Patten (nee Brown) was the type who would’ve volunteered for the distinction, had that been an option. She came from a family of mariners, and, at 16, married into one too. A year into her marriage, she insisted on joining her captain husband Joshua on his his first time captaining the Neptune’s Car. Together, the two went from New York to San Francisco, China, and London, before returning to New York.

Although Western women crewing a ship was rare and generally seen as improper  — ah, the Victorian era! —  Mary determined to make herself useful. She spent her time plowing through the ship’s small library, teaching herself medicine and how to navigate using sextants, compasses, and charts.

This would come in handy.

The Neptune’s Car, you see, was cursed as hell. It had only made one voyage before Joshua Patten coming on board. Why the quick turnover in captains, you may ask? Well, on its maiden voyage, 23 crew members were worked so hard they mutinied. The commander, one Captain Forbes, then threatened to kill all of them, saying “they’ll either work or face being shot”. Upon returning to port, everyone lawyered up and began suing each other. So there was an opening for a captain.

But that maiden voyage doesn’t even scratch the surface of how screwed this ship was. The voyages after Joshua’s tenure on board would feature such highlights as:

The third mate drunkenly killing a sailor before they even set sail, and the second mate getting arrested for covering for him;

Another sailor dying in a freak accident while loading the boat;

A cargo of munitions spilling on board, knocking the crew out with its acidic fumes;

The trip where the financiers tricked a crew of illiterate sailors into a journey twice as long as they’d signed up for;

And of course, pirates, hurricanes, and endless run-ins with the law. As you do.

And all of that still is NOTHING compared to Joshua and Mary’s second voyage on it.

The trouble started during the loading, when Joshua’s trusty first mate broke his leg. The financiers, Foster & Nickerson, eager to not lose time, replaced the first mate with an untested rando, William Keeler. The trouble continued when Joshua began feeling unwell, Foster & Nickerson ignored it, putting him to sea with Keeler and the now-pregnant Mary.

Much of the reason for the hurry is that the financiers had money riding on this, beyond just delivering cargo. The Neptune’s Car was still a relatively new ship, and they wanted to prove it could make good time. They laid down money against four other ships running the same route — New York to San Francisco, via the southern tip of South America —  that Neptune’s Car would beat them to port. In the grand tradition of rich douchebags everywhere, they were gambling the lives of their employees to one-up other rich douchebags.

It was not to be smooth sailing.

Keeler proved an incompetent shitheel in record time. His list of infractions are staggering: he’d sleep through half his shifts; he set course through reef beds; he had to be ordered to do simple tasks; and finally, he just outright refused to do some tasks, like putting out sails. About a month in, Joshua put him in chains and confined him to his cabin.

While he didn’t have many other options, this choice proved deadly for Joshua. He’d relied on Keeler to keep the course while Joshua slept. But with Keeler gone, the ship facing constant gales of snow and sleet, and no other crew members able to handle navigation — the second mate was illiterate, the third an idiot — Joshua had to stay up all day and night.

Increasingly, he relied on Mary to help confirm the position, course, and speed. He recognized she was a better mathematician than he was, even when he wasn’t out of his mind from staying up all day and night.

But by the eighth day of staying up, it became clear Joshua was out of his mind from more than that. After navigating to the Le Maire Strait, he collapsed. He’d developed pneumonia, which only exacerbated the undiagnosed ailment he’d started the voyage with: Tuberculosis meningitis.

Mary took control and, with the second mate’s help, parked the ship south of the deadly storms that had been rocking their boat. There she began looking after her husband. His situation was dire: the infection had reached his brain, and on top of being delirious, he’d become blind and partially deaf.

Compounding matters, Keeler began acting up. Hearing word of the captain’s failing health, he wrote Mary a letter, reminding her how perilous the coast was, and what great responsibility she shouldered. He graciously offered to rid her of the burden, and take control himself. She responded by informing him that since he’d had such trouble being first mate, she couldn’t possibly burden him with an even higher command.

When he heard this, Keeler tried striking up a mutiny to oust Mary from her command. It’s a testament to her ability and to the crew’s general good sense that they stood by her.

With Josh still out of commission, Mary steered the ship through the perilous waters south of the Cape, dodging inclement weather, collapsing glaciers, and mountains of ice. Finally, as they neared the Chilean city of Valparaiso, Joshua’s fever broke and he once again became lucid. However, he was evidently still suffering from brain ailments, as he soon made the executive decision to give command to Keeler.

This is what we in the business call a “boneheaded move.”

If anyone doubted Keeler was mutinous scum, he wasted no time in setting them straight. Refusing to let Mary on deck to take navigation  measurements, Keeler began secretly steering the boat to port at Valparaiso, despite explicit orders to head straight to San Francisco. However, Keeler did not reckon on Mary’s overabundance of competence — despite being largely confined to quarters, she still realized they were going off course. And to prove it? She Macguyvered up her own compass in the captain’s room. Nobody messes with Mary Patten.

And that was it for Keeler. Joshua had him demoted once and for all. He was clapped in chains and kept below deck.

Unfortunately, soon after that, Joshua relapsed, and he suffered 25 days of total blindness and deafness. Mary, by this point six months pregnant, was not about to waste any more time on modesty. She took full control of the ship and steered it straight to San Francisco, without further incident.

On November 15, 1856 — 137 days after they’d set sail — the Neptune’s Car pulled into port in San Francisco. The 19-year-old Mary had captained the boat for 56 of those days, through some of the most severe weather the region had seen. She had not changed clothes in nearly two months prior to arrival.

And she still beat three out of four boats to port.

As for Keeler? He cozied up to one of the ship’s mates, who helped free him once they pulled into the bay. He then jumped overboard at the earliest opportunity, escaping arrest. I am unsure what happened to his crazy ass afterwards.

Upon arrival in San Francisco, Mary became a national sensation, with newspaper after newspaper interviewing her (and usually getting a fair number of basic facts wrong). But despite the media attention, she struggled to pay for Joshua’s care — Foster & Nickerson refused to pay out his wages (in the end, they never would). It was only after public outcry for the insurance company to award Mary $5,000 that the Atlantic Mutual Insurance Company showed their magnanimity by sending Mary $1,000. The cargo she’d saved was worth $350,000.

And because she was a class act, she wrote to sincerely thank them and ask they also give credit to the other sailors.

Unfortunately, the Pattens’ situation never improved. By February 1857, Mary and Joshua made it back to their home in Boston — but Joshua’s condition had only worsened. Shortly after giving birth to their son, Joshua Jr., Mary had Joshua committed to an asylum. By July, her husband was dead. Shortly thereafter, Mary’s father, a sailor himself, was lost at sea. By 1860, Mary herself had contracted tuberculosis, and on March 17 of the following year, she died, just shy of her 24th birthday. She was buried next to Joshua, with nary a mention of her groundbreaking work on her headstone.

However, her deeds are not forgotten. A century after her fateful voyage, the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy in Kings Point, NY opened a hospital. They named it Patten Hospital, in memory of the “Florence Nightingale of the Ocean,” the woman whose courage they would always seek to emulate.

Full entry with footnotes and citations here

The second RP book is coming out in less than a month now! It’s available for preorder here. Mary’s not in it, although man, she would’ve made a good entry, huh? Maybe for book three.

Art notes and whatnot after the cut!

Art Notes

Mary is here standing on the deck of Neptune’s Car, holding Joshua’s hand as he struggles with his ailments. This wouldn’t be quite accurate – Joshua was in his cabin most of the second half of the journey – but I wanted to visually represent how she helped him, and the adversity she faced in doing so. In the first version of this, I had her holding a sextant in her right hand, but it didn’t really get to the drama of the situation.

In the background, the first mate swears at her, as they’re ravaged by storms. In the far background lurk the glaciers they encountered around Cape Horn.

I had a lot of fun drawing the water flowing in. Reminded me of doing liquid simulation work on animated movies. Ah, memories…!

Shout-outs (guess success rate: 89%)

Well done! The number two guess was Grace O’Malley — whom I’ve already covered! Going a bit harder for the next hint.

rosefeather, Tony, Hacker_Warrior, Gigi Paderes, @envy-eyes, booksandmagic, Rhosyn, @pandoramusicbox09, Rey, youslybadger, @vuvalinikill, Mekaela, Erendis, Crusty the Snowman, Jamie W, Andraya, @mrsslason, @muse2write, krittikae, The Unsexy Librarian, kchandesu, Julian Bernal,  Akadrus, Kaelin King, @coldpapernightmare, Isaac Capistrant, Ebele, cahill455, @per-herbam-ad-astra, Vercingetorix, Belphegor, babsawriter

Next Time on Rejected Princesses (posting around March 21, 2018!)

This WW2 woman could not run as fast as her divine Greek code-namesake, but what she lacked in speed, she made up for with a trusty sidekick of sorts.

(submit guesses here, and if you’re right, I’ll list you under ‘shout-outs’ on the next entry!)

[victoriabondblog]

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single young lady desiring to secure a husband, must wear white.”

Okay, I confess, that’s not a Jane Austen quote. However, a common belief is that Regency London debutantes had to wear white. It’s also wrong.

First of all, the term debutante was not used in Regency England. Yes, the word existed but not in the context that we think of it now. Debutante, as it applies to a young lady having her debut into society, is a term that the Victorians adopted a couple of decades after the Regency.

Secondly, there was no hard and fast rule during the Regency that young ladies who were newly “out” had to wear white. They could, in fact, wear whatever color they chose. Many ladies young and old wore white but many more wore pastels.

White and pastel were fashionable. These lighter colors were extremely difficult to keep clean, so wearing a pristine light-colored gown proclaimed one’s wealth. Without today’s modern streets, sidewalks, street sweepers—and automobiles instead of horses with all the messes they make—keeping one’s clothes proved a challenging task amid the muck and mud of earlier eras. Such delicate colors were impractical for anyone less affluent to wear because they couldn’t keep it clean and unspoiled. Unlike the very wealthy, the working classes didn’t have an army of servants to do their laundry, and they couldn’t afford to simply cast off and replace stained clothing.

Fashionable ladies wore richer colors, too. All one must do is look at any historical clothing museum to understand the popularity of the whole rainbow of colors—even red.

Expensive fabrics such as silk, the quality of cut and stitching, as well as all the trimmings were another sign of wealth and taste. All the braids, lace, ribbons (called ‘ribbands’ in older writing) and feathers cost a great deal of money, and also divided the classes.

So why do we have this false belief that unmarried young ladies were only allowed to wear white? Because that’s what we read in historical novels. The queen of the modern Regency Romance, Georgette Heyer, was a careful researcher, but she didn’t have access to the internet or the wealth of information we have now, nor did she have writers’ groups and fellow history geeks to help her ferret out information. In addition to whatever primary source books she could find, Heyer relied heavily on her grandmother’s memory, and grandmama grew up in the Late Victorian/early Edwardian Era, so things had changed. Debutants wore white in Heyer’s novels, so of course, we believed that was a hard-and-fast-rule.

A common theory to explain Heyer’s occasional inaccuracies was that she deliberately lied! The belief is that she deliberately wrote in misinformation to see who was copying her instead of doing their own research. However, I can’t believe she’d do that—she was too methodical to have purposely written something wrong just to trip up another author.

Heyer novels, like any fictional accounts, should be read and enjoyed as fiction, and not as a source upon which to base research—unless, of course, it is Jane Austen. It is a truth, universally accepted, that Austen’s books are accurate since she lived in that time and wrote about characters who lived at that time, too.

As a Regency Romance author, I make every possible attempt to keep my novels historically accurate, but since I didn’t live in the era, I don’t know everything either. (I know—shocking, right?) In my continuing research, I learn new facts almost daily–sometimes details I didn’t get quite right in earlier books. However, each book is better researched than the last because each new one is the culmination of my knowledge, and that’s the best I can do. Historical accuracy is important to me, but if I wanted until I knew everything, I would not have published a single novel yet. I hope you enjoy the discovery with me.

Sources:

Years of my own research, plus numerous museum visits in England. However, you might also enjoy these sources:

Fashions in the Era of Jane Austen, by Jody Gayle

Candice Hern

Risky Regencies

 Related Posts:

Gowns, Gowns, and More Gowns, and how often Regency…

Gloves, a crucial Regency fashion accessory

Regency Gentlemen’s Waistcoats

More Scandalous Talk about Regency…

The Secret Language of Regency Fashion

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me published first on http://donnahatch.blogspot.com/

[carolwbond]

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single young lady desiring to secure a husband, must wear white.”

Okay, I confess, that’s not a Jane Austen quote. However, a common belief is that Regency London debutantes had to wear white. It’s also wrong.

First of all, the term debutante was not used in Regency England. Yes, the word existed but not in the context that we think of it now. Debutante, as it applies to a young lady having her debut into society, is a term that the Victorians adopted a couple of decades after the Regency.

Secondly, there was no hard and fast rule during the Regency that young ladies who were newly “out” had to wear white. They could, in fact, wear whatever color they chose. Many ladies young and old wore white but many more wore pastels.

White and pastel were fashionable. These lighter colors were extremely difficult to keep clean, so wearing a pristine light-colored gown proclaimed one’s wealth. Without today’s modern streets, sidewalks, street sweepers—and automobiles instead of horses with all the messes they make—keeping one’s clothes proved a challenging task amid the muck and mud of earlier eras. Such delicate colors were impractical for anyone less affluent to wear because they couldn’t keep it clean and unspoiled. Unlike the very wealthy, the working classes didn’t have an army of servants to do their laundry, and they couldn’t afford to simply cast off and replace stained clothing.

Fashionable ladies wore richer colors, too. All one must do is look at any historical clothing museum to understand the popularity of the whole rainbow of colors—even red.

Expensive fabrics such as silk, the quality of cut and stitching, as well as all the trimmings were another sign of wealth and taste. All the braids, lace, ribbons (called ‘ribbands’ in older writing) and feathers cost a great deal of money, and also divided the classes.

So why do we have this false belief that unmarried young ladies were only allowed to wear white? Because that’s what we read in historical novels. The queen of the modern Regency Romance, Georgette Heyer, was a careful researcher, but she didn’t have access to the internet or the wealth of information we have now, nor did she have writers’ groups and fellow history geeks to help her ferret out information. In addition to whatever primary source books she could find, Heyer relied heavily on her grandmother’s memory, and grandmama grew up in the Late Victorian/early Edwardian Era, so things had changed. Debutants wore white in Heyer’s novels, so of course, we believed that was a hard-and-fast-rule.

A common theory to explain Heyer’s occasional inaccuracies was that she deliberately lied! The belief is that she deliberately wrote in misinformation to see who was copying her instead of doing their own research. However, I can’t believe she’d do that—she was too methodical to have purposely written something wrong just to trip up another author.

Heyer novels, like any fictional accounts, should be read and enjoyed as fiction, and not as a source upon which to base research—unless, of course, it is Jane Austen. It is a truth, universally accepted, that Austen’s books are accurate since she lived in that time and wrote about characters who lived at that time, too.

As a Regency Romance author, I make every possible attempt to keep my novels historically accurate, but since I didn’t live in the era, I don’t know everything either. (I know—shocking, right?) In my continuing research, I learn new facts almost daily–sometimes details I didn’t get quite right in earlier books. However, each book is better researched than the last because each new one is the culmination of my knowledge, and that’s the best I can do. Historical accuracy is important to me, but if I wanted until I knew everything, I would not have published a single novel yet. I hope you enjoy the discovery with me.

Sources:

Years of my own research, plus numerous museum visits in England. However, you might also enjoy these sources:

Fashions in the Era of Jane Austen, by Jody Gayle

Candice Hern

Risky Regencies

Related Posts:

Gowns, Gowns, and More Gowns, and how often Regency…

Gloves, a crucial Regency fashion accessory

Regency Gentlemen’s Waistcoats

More Scandalous Talk about Regency…

The Secret Language of Regency Fashion

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me published first on http://donnahatchnovels.tumblr.com

[dianelyman1]

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single young lady desiring to secure a husband, must wear white.”

Okay, I confess, that’s not a Jane Austen quote. However, a common belief is that Regency London debutantes had to wear white. It’s also wrong.

First of all, the term debutante was not used in Regency England. Yes, the word existed but not in the context that we think of it now. Debutante, as it applies to a young lady having her debut into society, is a term that the Victorians adopted a couple of decades after the Regency.

Secondly, there was no hard and fast rule during the Regency that young ladies who were newly “out” had to wear white. They could, in fact, wear whatever color they chose. Many ladies young and old wore white but many more wore pastels.

White and pastel were fashionable. These lighter colors were extremely difficult to keep clean, so wearing a pristine light-colored gown proclaimed one’s wealth. Without today’s modern streets, sidewalks, street sweepers—and automobiles instead of horses with all the messes they make—keeping one’s clothes proved a challenging task amid the muck and mud of earlier eras. Such delicate colors were impractical for anyone less affluent to wear because they couldn’t keep it clean and unspoiled. Unlike the very wealthy, the working classes didn’t have an army of servants to do their laundry, and they couldn’t afford to simply cast off and replace stained clothing.

Fashionable ladies wore richer colors, too. All one must do is look at any historical clothing museum to understand the popularity of the whole rainbow of colors—even red.

Expensive fabrics such as silk, the quality of cut and stitching, as well as all the trimmings were another sign of wealth and taste. All the braids, lace, ribbons (called ‘ribbands’ in older writing) and feathers cost a great deal of money, and also divided the classes.

So why do we have this false belief that unmarried young ladies were only allowed to wear white? Because that’s what we read in historical novels. The queen of the modern Regency Romance, Georgette Heyer, was a careful researcher, but she didn’t have access to the internet or the wealth of information we have now, nor did she have writers’ groups and fellow history geeks to help her ferret out information. In addition to whatever primary source books she could find, Heyer relied heavily on her grandmother’s memory, and grandmama grew up in the Late Victorian/early Edwardian Era, so things had changed. Debutants wore white in Heyer’s novels, so of course, we believed that was a hard-and-fast-rule.

A common theory to explain Heyer’s occasional inaccuracies was that she deliberately lied! The belief is that she deliberately wrote in misinformation to see who was copying her instead of doing their own research. However, I can’t believe she’d do that—she was too methodical to have purposely written something wrong just to trip up another author.

Heyer novels, like any fictional accounts, should be read and enjoyed as fiction, and not as a source upon which to base research—unless, of course, it is Jane Austen. It is a truth, universally accepted, that Austen’s books are accurate since she lived in that time and wrote about characters who lived at that time, too.

As a Regency Romance author, I make every possible attempt to keep my novels historically accurate, but since I didn’t live in the era, I don’t know everything either. (I know—shocking, right?) In my continuing research, I learn new facts almost daily–sometimes details I didn’t get quite right in earlier books. However, each book is better researched than the last because each new one is the culmination of my knowledge, and that’s the best I can do. Historical accuracy is important to me, but if I wanted until I knew everything, I would not have published a single novel yet. I hope you enjoy the discovery with me.

Sources:

Years of my own research, plus numerous museum visits in England. However, you might also enjoy these sources:

Fashions in the Era of Jane Austen, by Jody Gayle

Candice Hern

Risky Regencies

  Related Posts:

Gowns, Gowns, and More Gowns, and how often Regency…

Gloves, a crucial Regency fashion accessory

Regency Gentlemen’s Waistcoats

More Scandalous Talk about Regency…

The Secret Language of Regency Fashion

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me published first on https://donnahatchromancenovels.wordpress.com/

[donnahatchnovels]

Lies Jane Austen Never Told Me

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single young lady desiring to secure a husband, must wear white.”

Okay, I confess, that’s not a Jane Austen quote. However, a common belief is that Regency London debutantes had to wear white. It’s also wrong.

First of all, the term debutante was not used in Regency England. Yes, the word existed but not in the context that we think of it now. Debutante, as it applies to a young lady having her debut into society, is a term that the Victorians adopted a couple of decades after the Regency.

Secondly, there was no hard and fast rule during the Regency that young ladies who were newly “out” had to wear white. They could, in fact, wear whatever color they chose. Many ladies young and old wore white but many more wore pastels.

White and pastel were fashionable. These lighter colors were extremely difficult to keep clean, so wearing a pristine light-colored gown proclaimed one’s wealth. Without today’s modern streets, sidewalks, street sweepers—and automobiles instead of horses with all the messes they make—keeping one’s clothes proved a challenging task amid the muck and mud of earlier eras. Such delicate colors were impractical for anyone less affluent to wear because they couldn’t keep it clean and unspoiled. Unlike the very wealthy, the working classes didn’t have an army of servants to do their laundry, and they couldn’t afford to simply cast off and replace stained clothing.

Fashionable ladies wore richer colors, too. All one must do is look at any historical clothing museum to understand the popularity of the whole rainbow of colors—even red.

Expensive fabrics such as silk, the quality of cut and stitching, as well as all the trimmings were another sign of wealth and taste. All the braids, lace, ribbons (called ‘ribbands’ in older writing) and feathers cost a great deal of money, and also divided the classes.

So why do we have this false belief that unmarried young ladies were only allowed to wear white? Because that’s what we read in historical novels. The queen of the modern Regency Romance, Georgette Heyer, was a careful researcher, but she didn’t have access to the internet or the wealth of information we have now, nor did she have writers’ groups and fellow history geeks to help her ferret out information. In addition to whatever primary source books she could find, Heyer relied heavily on her grandmother’s memory, and grandmama grew up in the Late Victorian/early Edwardian Era, so things had changed. Debutants wore white in Heyer’s novels, so of course, we believed that was a hard-and-fast-rule.

A common theory to explain Heyer’s occasional inaccuracies was that she deliberately lied! The belief is that she deliberately wrote in misinformation to see who was copying her instead of doing their own research. However, I can’t believe she’d do that—she was too methodical to have purposely written something wrong just to trip up another author.

Heyer novels, like any fictional accounts, should be read and enjoyed as fiction, and not as a source upon which to base research—unless, of course, it is Jane Austen. It is a truth, universally accepted, that Austen’s books are accurate since she lived in that time and wrote about characters who lived at that time, too.

As a Regency Romance author, I make every possible attempt to keep my novels historically accurate, but since I didn’t live in the era, I don’t know everything either. (I know—shocking, right?) In my continuing research, I learn new facts almost daily–sometimes details I didn’t get quite right in earlier books. However, each book is better researched than the last because each new one is the culmination of my knowledge, and that’s the best I can do. Historical accuracy is important to me, but if I wanted until I knew everything, I would not have published a single novel yet. I hope you enjoy the discovery with me.

Sources:

Years of my own research, plus numerous museum visits in England. However, you might also enjoy these sources:

Fashions in the Era of Jane Austen, by Jody Gayle

Candice Hern

Risky Regencies

  Related Posts:

Gowns, Gowns, and More Gowns, and how often Regency…

Gloves, a crucial Regency fashion accessory

Regency Gentlemen’s Waistcoats

More Scandalous Talk about Regency…

The Secret Language of Regency Fashion