a history blog

he/him I like late 18th - early 20th century European history (among other things) and also books from that same period, especially Charles Dickens!

[wildersage]

the impulse to hide what I'm doing at my computer still sits so deep even tho I'm literally never looking at anything objectionable , the door will open and I'll hurry to close the page like oh fuck no one can know I'm looking at the Wikipedia page for the Balkans

[prokopetz]

One of my favourite bits of media history trivia is that back in the Elizabethan period, people used to publish unauthorised copies of plays by sending someone who was good with shorthand to discretely write down all of the play's dialogue while they watched it, then reconstructing the play by combining those notes with audience interviews to recover the stage directions; in some cases, these unauthorised copies are the only record of a given play that survives to the present day. It's one of my favourites for two reasons:

It demonstrates that piracy has always lay at the heart of media preservation; and

Imagine being the 1603 equivalent of the guy with the cell phone camera in the movie theatre, furtively scribbling down notes in a little book and hoping Shakespeare himself doesn't catch you.

[your-disobedient-servant]

Aaron Burr and his umbrella misfortunes

Home at 4. Caught in the rain, having yesterday left my umbrella at Brentford—no doubt lost. Dinner, B. and K. Read out the review of the “Life of Washington” by Marshall and Ramsay. The review is full as stupid, and as illy written, as either of the books.

- December 6, 1808 

Loses umbrella for the first time. (Bonus throwing shade on Life of Washington and its review.)

Rose at ten. Such is the mode in London. Sor. at 1. Going up Haymarket, met Madame O., and walked with her half an hour. Went to the stage-house in Piccadilly to inquire for my umbrella, but with little hope. It was there, brought by the coachman; 1 shilling 6 pence. How very honest people are here, and yet I am cheated most impudently every hour!

- December 7, 1808

Finds the umbrella, has to pay to get it back.

Rose at 6. Set off at 7. I sleep very soundly in these stage coaches. By sleeping, however, forgot to ask for my umbrella, which I had left at Stanmore.

-  December 14, 1808 

When he seemingly forgets it again.

Stayed to dinner. Out at 10; raining, took K.’s umbrella, having lost my own. Koe overtook me, having run all that way in the rain; sent by Bentham to bring me back to sleep, he not suspecting that I was going off. Apologized.

- February 8, 1808

And again.

As I was writing the concluding line of the preceding page last evening (about 1 o'clock) an ill-looking fellow opened my door without knocking, and muttering in German something which I did not comprehend, bid me put out my candle. Being in no very placid humor at the moment, as you see, I cursed him and sent him to hell in French and English. He advanced and was going to seize the candle. My umbrella, which had a dirk in the handle, being near me, I seized it, drew the dirk, and drove him out of the room. Some minutes after I heard the steps of a number of men and looking out at my windows saw it was a corporal’s guard. It then occurred to me that this Erfurt, being a garrison town with a French governor (de Vismes), there might probably enough be an order for extinguishing lights at a certain hour, and I had no doubt but the gentlemen I had just seen in the street were coming to invite me to take a walk with them. So I bundled up my papers and put them in my pocket to be ready for a lodging in the guard house. It was only the relief of the centinels’ going round and who the impertinent extinguisher was I have not learnt.

- January 9, 1810

So much to unpack here I don’t know where to even start. I don’t know if my favourite thing is

that there was a stranger barging into his room insisting he puts out the candle,

that he crankily attacked him with a knife,

that the knife was hidden inside the handle of his umbrella,

that he suddenly remembered there was a law forbidding light after a certain hour

and was afraid the guards passing by might be coming for him

…or that he had a rare stroke of luck and nothing happened

Sor. 11 to the umbrella-mender; nothing done.

- April 20, 1810

I had no paraplui² and was resolved not to take coach if one had offered. Got home wet to the skin, from head to foot. Jul. made me a good fire, for my chimney was reformed a little. Changed clothes. Caf. blanc, and am quite refreshed.

2 For farafluit. Umbrella.

- October 18, 1810

Deliberating on the state of my finances, found that this sans sous state was not only inconvenient, but dangerous; for instance, this morning I hit a glass window with my umbrella, and had nearly forced it through one of three large panes. In such a case you have only to pay, and there’s an end of it; but had I broken the pane and not been able to pay for it, I must infallibly have been taken before a commissionaire de police to abide his judgment.

- December 10, 1810

Burr what were you doing

Thence to Vanderlyn’s to get more newspapers. While there it set in to rain; had no umbrella, and got wet.

- December 12, 1811

A brilliant morning. Sun shining bright for this hemisphere. Went out without my umbrella. Before I got one hundred yards it began to rain. Went back for the umbrella.

- February 13, 1811

At least you went back for it this time I guess?

Very grave and philosophical, and full of good resolutions. Have lost my umbrella! But it is better to begin in the usual form.

- February 18, 1811

Had breakfast at 6. Was sitting in the parlor below reading a newspaper. Received a smart click on the head. It was Madame. “Mais vous etes la tout tranquille. Vous laissez tous vos hardes pele mele. Voila votre paraplui. Vous ne pensez a rien. Vous etes come un enfant. Le diligence va partir et vous ne faites rien"².

2 For “Mais vous êtes là tout tranquille. Vous laissez toutes vos hardes pêle-mêle. Voilà votre parapluie. Vous ne pensez à rien. Vous êtes comme un enfant. Le diligence va partir et vous ne faites rien.” “But you are quite at your ease there. You leave all your clothes lying pell mell. There is your umbrella. You don'tthink of anything. You are like a child. The diligence is going to leave you and you are doing nothing."  

- May 18, 1811

After the fireworks were done, Mr. L. proposed that he and I should walk along the river and about the palace, to see the various illuminations. F. recommended this; we saw her in the carriage, and she went off; we were to take our chance for a hack. Mr. L., not being well acquainted with the ground, and the confusion produced by the variety of light, led us astray, and when we reached the river found ourselves ½ mile above the bridge. It now began to rain hard; we had no surtouts or umbrellas. When we reached the bridge, there was nothing to be seen which we had not before seen from a better point of view. We, therefore, took shelter in the first house we could get in ; but the crowd was so immense that even this was difficult. At length we had room to stand up under cover. Mr. L. then went out to hunt a carriage. All were engaged. He went in another direction, and, after an hour, returned without success. He was not to be discouraged. Out he went again. A guinea was asked for a seat to town, about six or seven miles; and then you must be crammed in with six or eight drenched people. At ½ p. 1 he returned with a carriage; at what price I know not, for he would not let me interfere.

- June 23, 1811

I should say this was the same day as, or shall I say directly after the “got brain freeze and thought he was dying” episode. Burr just can’t catch a damn break.

The chevalier led me au P. R., after strolling an hour, in a caffe into a cellar, which I will describe as well as I can. We took ice-creams. There was music and a ventriloquist. We agreed to neglect Madame F. At ½ p. 10 I got home. […] Mem.: Left my new umbrella at that confounded ventriloquist’s and am sure shall never see it again.

- June 30, 1811

My umbrella is lost; lost 32 francs. Paid for our ice-creams 3 francs.

- July 1, 1811

To near Luxembourg 5 to get an umbrella which some one, unknown, left in my room a fortnight ago, and which has, therefore, become my property by prescription. Paid for mending it, 3 francs.

- July 11, 1811

Score! Gains an umbrella instead of losing it for once.

The morning appearing fine, went out without my umbrella and got well wetted. It is against my conscience, you know, to hire a hack.

- January 29, 1812

Set out for Lincoln’s Inn Fields, but hard rain coming on, and having taken no umbrella, the morning being fine, turned about and stopped a few minutes at Godwin’s. Continued in all the rain; by musing, lost my way and got wet to the skin. Home at 4. Changed and made a great fire.

- January 30, 1812

Burr. Burr.

And here is where the fun begins:

Got home at 4, and discovered that I had lost my umbrella; a most serious misfortune, and little hope of recovering it, as I have no recollection where I stopped. It is impossible for me to buy one or to do without one.

- February 18, 1812

Slept near seven hours last night, and did not rise till 8. My umbrella hung heavy at my heart. Went to hunt for it. Walked back on the track I came from J. H.’s yesterday, and called at the places I had been; but no umbrella. It is finally lost, and I must submit to the inconvenience of getting wet and of spoiling my clothes. 

- February 19, 1812

Then home, following again the track of my poor lost umbrella, but to no purpose. 

- February 20, 1812

I had intended to have breakfasted at J. B.’s, for the purpose of taking the retorts early to friend Allen; but in the first place I slept till 9, and in the next it rained in torrents and you know my umbrella is on a voyage. […] The rain setting in again, bought me the cheapest umbrella I could find that was large enough. Cost 10 shillings and 6 pence.

- March 2, 1812

THE END.

[firebalda]

boy

[tommy-288]

[geoffreyharedale]

I'm not done with it yet (9 more chapters!!) but tbh Barnaby Rudge should be more popular. It's a pretty good & interesting book but so few people (even Dickens fans) talk about it

[geoffreyharedale]

Back in 2020 I got really into amrev Tumblr, specifically the Aaron Burr portion of it (Im starting to get back into it right now if you can't tell lmao). During that time I made this drawing of Burr being caught eating grapes, based off of some anecdote I read on here that I forgot the details of. I still kind of like the drawing though

[eleftherian]

“I heard that Miss Creakle was in love with Steerforth. As I sat in the dark, thinking of his nice voice, and his fine face, and his easy manner, and his curling hair, I thought it very likely”

HOW DO PEOPLE NOT READ DAVID COPPERFIELD AS QUEER smh