Rude Regency: Realism with Your Romance

Proof positive that even Jane Austen had to have known at least one dick joke.

[didanagy]

EMMA (2020)

dir. autumn de wilde

[hamletthedane]

Fun fact: this scene is a direct reference to a pretty common joke in Regency-era erotic cartoons:

Historically, English women did not wear any version of underwear under their dresses until the very late 1800s (unless they were menstruating). When dresses slimmed way down during the Regency era's neoclassical movement, skirts became much easier to fully lift - apparently leading to many women warming their bare skin in this way.

It was a common enough practice that there was even a suggestive slang term for it, as others have pointed out:

[percussiveadventure]

Nice to know these gentlemen were eating ass

[publicdomainreview]

“The great south sea caterpillar, transform’d into a Bath butterfly” (1795), James Gillray’s caricature of English naturalist, botanist and patron of the natural sciences Joseph Banks, born #onthisday in 1743. More on the iconography of Banks here https://publicdomainreview.org/essay/joseph-banks-portraits-of-a-placid-elephant #otd

[babe-regent]

Dressing for a Masquerade, by Thomas Rowlandson, 1790.

A hand-coloured print of a party of women preparing for a masquerade. On the left, a seated woman is having her hair combed by a elderly male hairdresser. A woman standing on a chair, admires the back of her dress in a mirror held up by an old maid. On the right, a woman bends to adjust her stocking whilst another woman wearing a mask admires herself in a mirror.

Purchased by the Prince of Wales from William Holland in 1790 for 5s

[thingscanhope]

In High-Change in Bond Street,—ou—la Politesse du Grande Monde (1796), James Gillray caricatured the lack of etiquette in a group of men leering at women and crowding them off a pavement.

[ardentpittite]

Democratic Leveling;—Alliance a la Francoise;—or—The Union of the Coronet & Clyster-pipe by James Gillray, 1796.

Lady Lucy Stanhope was the niece of William Pitt and the sister of the more famous Lady Hester Stanhope. At the age of 16 she married a local medical man, Thomas Taylor of Sevenoaks. Her father, the radical minded Earl Stanhope (often known as “Citizen Stanhope”) is shown wearing a Jacobin bonnet rouge and no breeches. Opposition leaders Fox and Sheridan officiate.

In fact, although the wedding did take place by special licence at the family seat of Chevening, Stanhope was against the match. To quote Tresham Lever (House of Pitt, 1947), “Lord Stanhope’s democratic principles did not cover such a mésalliance,” and the young couple were afterwards not received at the house. Luckily Pitt was on their side and gave the finger to Stanhope provided them with an income by making Taylor Controller-General in the Customs.

The marriage was apparently a happy one. Lucy died in 1814, aged 34, having borne at least eight children (seven surviving). Thomas Taylor lived until 1841 and did not, as far as I know, remarry.

[sylvanus-urban]

Female curiosity by James Gillray, c1778.

James Gillray’s 1778 portrait of “female curiosity” shows a woman staring at her buttocks, which are adorned with a stylish wig perched on her hips, by looking over her shoulder at a mirror her kneeling servant holds. The portrait indicts women’s self-exploration as decadent fashion. Gillray designates female sexuality as peeking, yet his print identifies the spectator’s gaze with the woman’s.

X

[artandopinion]

Exhibition Stare Case

circa 1800

Thomas Rowlandson

This print depicts visitors to the Royal Academy falling headlong down the stairs of Somerset House, which is now the Courtauld Institute of Art. The architect who designed the building, Sir William Chambers, claimed it ‘a momument to the taste and elegancy of His Majesty’s reign’.

Extract from the British Museum:

Rowlandson suggests that the architect was more interested in the visual effect of his staircase than in its practical utility. He also plays with two commonplace observations about exhibition audiences: that some female spectators came to be seen as much as to see and that some male spectators were more interested in living flesh than in painted nudes.

[weirdvintage]

The Lovers’ Strategy or Fashionable Grooming, 1770 by an anonymous artist—This etching is a satire on the ridiculous hairstyles of this period.  A Frenchwoman is kissed by her elderly husband, while little cherubs climb a ladder up her hair to deliver letters to her young lover.  (via)

[weirdvintage]

"The Umbrella" by caricaturist George Cruikshank, c. 1820:  "They make these here things sadly too small for good sized people!  I’ll be hang’d if I ain’t as wet as Muck!!" (via)

[heracliteanfire]

The Stranger’s Guide; or, the London Sharper Detected: being a Complete Exposure of all the Frauds of London, practised by Bawds, Bullies, Fortune-Tellers, Footpads, Gamblers, Gossips, Highwaymen, Housebreakers, Jilts, Kidnappers, Ring-Droppers, Pimps, Procuresses, Pickpockets, Quacks, Sharpers, Swindlers, Smugglers, Shop-lifters, Street-Robbers, Trappers, Waggon Hunters, Women of Pleasure, &c. &c. &c.  (via Spitalfields Life)

[theironduchess-deactivated20141]

 The Spectator, No. 81, June 2. In the above article, Addison tells of his seeing an opera at Haymarket Theatre, where he makes a political discovery regarding beauty patches– spot the right side of the forehead for Tories; left side for Whigs.

Beauty patches are tiny pieces of silk, velvet, or taffetta adhesives, cut into a myriad of shapes and stuck onto the face of a aristocrat. They were the height of fashion in the late 18th century, worn by both men and women to either hide their imperfections or flaunt their pristine white beauty. (Picture: Une Dame à sa toilette by Francois Boucher) 

 Besides aesthetic purposes, patches were also worn to suggest a certain mood (or, in this case, to declare political allegiance) , with each placement having a name. Corner of the eyes was the passionate; middle of the cheek, the gallant; the nose, the impudent; near the lips, the coquette, and to masks scars or pimples, the concealer. A patch on the forehead signified dignity, around her lips, kissable.  A bethrothed young woman wishing to announce her new status sported a heart on her left cheek.  Upon her marriage she switched the heart to the right. 

The favored color was black, but green, purple, blue or red might be use to enhance a lady’s gown or her eyes.   Dark skinned women were seldom seen wearing patches because their foremost purpose was to show the striking comparison of black against pale white skin.

“a great lady always had seven or eight [patches], and never went without her patch-box, so that she might put on more if she felt so inclined, or replace those that might happen to come off.” The XVIIIth century: its institutions, customs, and costumes; France, 1700-1789 (p. 461)

  (Text taken from http://lifetakeslemons.wordpress.com/2010/06/09/to-patch-or-not-to-patch/, with minor edits )

ladycashasatiger has also written an excellent post on this topic

[genericfakeidentity]

19th century letter composition textbooks included examples of how to challenge someone to a duel, and how to snarkily decline a challenge. “A mere empty butterfly, as I must call you…” SICK BURN, REGENCY-ERA GENTLEMAN

SICK BURN

[mademoisellelapiquante]

The Toilet Headdress - 1776

[aquaeyeshadow-blog]

“Six Stages of Mending a Face”’ Thomas Rowlandson, 1792

[ruderegency]

“Dedicated with respect to the Right Hon. Lady Archer”

[ruderegency]

© National Portrait Gallery, London

'The whore's last shift'

by James Gillray, published by William Humphrey hand-coloured etching, published 9 February 1779

[ruderegency]

housekeeping

It's been a while since I've updated here, but I thought I'd adjust the focus of this tumblr slightly to better reflect what first caught my eye with regard to British Georgian and Regency history: caricatures, broadsides, anecdotes, mistresses, politics, pornography, and gossip so old as to be well beyond the legal age of consent.

So I've changed the title, and we'll see if I start posting here a little more frequently. Meanwhile, feel free to send in an ask or submit a post. And happy reading!

[oldbookillustrations]

The masked ball. Party given to the king and queen by the city of Paris, on 23 January 1782.

After Moreau le Jeune (Jean-Michel Moreau), from Les rues du vieux Paris (Streets of the old Paris), by Victor Fournel, Paris, 1881.

(Source: archive.org)