The Gordon Riots are probably the funniest and simultaneous saddest thing Arthur probably went through in 1780 (which considering its 1780 is saying something). Or at the very least it's up there.
Like imagine trying maybe to do the right thing (not for the right reasons of course but when does Arthur ever) and repeal some anti-Catholic laws only for like 50,000 people to go hog wild going no Catholics are evil actually in your capital and then like a week later like 400 people are dead and Europe still thinks you're an unstable bomb about to collapse in on yourself and Alfred still hates you but at least Catholics can serve in the army now??? Nevermind that they already were so what was the pointnssvzxvbdsgfedscvbgnhmj????!?!??!
i don’t care if it was intentional or not on himaruya’s part, but arthur naming his oldest baby alfred after alfred the great will never not destroy me. it will never not have me on the floor, pounding my fists, tears streaming from my eyes, wailing in abject emotional devastation. the parallel between a baby arthur looking up at a man who would become one of his country’s most famous heroes vs a grown arthur cradling his first child and thinking. alfred. please someone run me over
ugh i want to write a nyo!fruk fic with a knight being assigned to protect the princess and they start off hating each other (duh) but in the end fall in love………………… i’m a simple bitch with simple needs……..
I drew this on a whim but later on when I was doing research on public crying I found a cool book about the history of crying in Britain, and after reading it I was struck with some thoughts on how this famously stoic boy feels about having cries. I think I’ve come across a few headcanons about sadboy Arthur Kirkland, based on stereotypes of the attitudes English people generally have towards being emotional. I wanted to explore a bit on how the history of norms about the general expression of emotions have influenced how England would have comported himself throughout time… what entails is some discussion of savoury subjects such as masculinity, dependency and British insularity as well...
(Disclaimer: norms around emotions and their expressions are obviously gendered in a country like the UK, so this discussion will be only applicable to a male-identifying England. CW for mentions of colonialism.)
In the present day, England is likely to keep himself from putting on displays of tears in public. He’s self-aware of the stereotype of the English able to uphold a “stiff-upper lip” in trying circumstances, and to a degree, adheres to it himself. This articulation of the myth of English stoicism arose recently, crystallized in the public mind through the propaganda of the First and Second World Wars, and packaged as an export of a stereotype (America being the most eager consumer of this, always happy to construe anything British to a way to patronize England. As you can imagine, he comported himself as eternally carefree as a moral counterbalance to England’s anal agedness).
The later Victorian years preceded the synthesis of this stereotype, when the association of tears with weakness and foreignness antagonized their shedding by English men. As Britain was reaching the peak of global geopolitical dominance, the physical and mental conditions as well as characters of its men became a matter of national security. A boy whose upbringing did not involve a disciplining with the Stiff Upper Lip ethic would become a man that threatened the upholding of imperial activities. Though Arthur later became a bit more aware of how the norm of the Stiff Upper Lip spawned from this ideology, at the time it wasn’t a matter for questioning, given the alibis granted by scientific inquiry. Darwinism and psychiatry shaped anthropological theories of weeping, which were made available for use to identify a human society’s proximity to either primitivity or civility – English/British society’s supposed exceptional ability to strictly regulate emotional expression marked them as superior, most obviously to non-white (or non-WASP), colonised societies, as well as to other Europeans. The incapacity to restrain passions was in turn pathologized as “emotional incontinence.” During this time, Arthur was most extremely committed to the repression of tears as a matter of conforming to the Age of Reason. But the sought-for clever, unsentimental disposition came at the cost of pre-emptively devaluing empathy. Furnishing the imperial superiority complex with the view that fellow Europeans were more prone to emotional excess, island-hood came to represent independence from the need for friends rather than the inability to keep friends at all.
Around the close of the Victorian era, the intertwined agonies of loneliness and repression of empathy -- particularly poignant when witnessing his state calibrate its technologies to wage violence and inequality at home and abroad -- inclined Arthur to take seriously complaints about the British “undevelopment of the heart” coming from perspectives of the British cultural elite, many of whom were already critically exploring other social mores. Intellectually, he had a general awareness of the conventions that bound himself and the English people, specifically those who were middle class. Yet, even in circumstances where he was in a place of repose and privacy, with the opportunity to weep – e.g. when affected by the catharsis spurred by the climax of a tragic play, after a gruesome battle on a foreign land, after attempting to comfort a struggling family – he’d find that he couldn’t. At that point he could not even be affected by stories of child suffering -- which were archetypical of Victorian heartrending stories, and which once could have evoked some adequate tears from him when it was popular to be evoked as such. By that point, he’d been comfortable for too long being held captive to his idea of masculinity. Meanwhile, amongst his fellow semi- or fullblown-alcoholic European peers, he gained a reputation as a weepy drunk -- in spite of weepy drunkenness having been a sign of foreignness. Inebriation was an easy escape from those terrible scruples. His drinking companions would have little sympathy to afford England during those fits of incoherent, pity-and-alcohol-fuelled blubbings.
Only with the social upheaval following World War II could norms have the chance to slacken, at least relative to British standards, which by that point were world-famously tight as straitjackets. Psychiatric support for weeping, trickling in primarily from America, encouraged discussion, at least, that recognized that the Stiff Upper lip ethic would be obsolete in the post-war era. Tears provoked by passion no longer were obviously the symptoms of a national traitor. For instance, Arthur came to find release in partaking in collective tear-shedding at emotionally-charged football matches, or during events symbolic of the decline of his empire. Despite his roughly century-long period of restraint, engagement in public rehearsals of catharsis didn’t always come without embarrassment or strangeness.
The period of the stiff upper lip was one of the most hostile to tear-shedding, but prior to this, Arthur had a liberal understanding of what it meant to cry. Throughout history, English society had variously regarded crying as a pious act, or as an intellectual act of sympathy, or a pathetic display of paternal affection, etc.. And with centuries’ worth of “maturing,” having more interactions with other nations, and becoming more self-aware, it became more important to Arthur to take these norms seriously, and more tactfully regulate the expression of emotion. With the 16th century reformation, he learnt from Anti-Catholics to avoid certain forms of weeping that represented the blasphemous and excessive frivolities that Catholicism spoiled religious Christian practices with. (This strengthened the foundation for anti-Europe feeling, but also further justified the feeling of superiority over the Irish). In the aftermath of the French Revolution and the 25 years of war that came with it, a triumphant yet jaded England harboured a special disdain for the seeming unrestrained passion and sentimentality that characterized France’s revolutionary condition. Since the onset of the 19th century, the restraint of emotion would last, to varying degrees, as an aspect of a certain kind of cultural conservatism.
Especially with hindsight, England did appreciate that the correlations of weeping with weakness, effeminacy, foppery, self-indulgence, madness, primitiveness, or degeneration etc. were not natural, and were products of ideological interests. But, having harboured a lifelong insecurity as an island situated a stone’s throw away from an unpredictably violent continent, it tended to seem necessary to adopt any behaviour that could defend him from the machinations of the outside world. His overall habits to repress feelings would be a difficult habit to discard, mostly because he couldn’t be motivated enough to be rid of it anyway. This made it tricky for the unexpected moments when the need for catharsis became too much. The reflex to smother instances of agonised feeling could be discomfiting due to the obsolete moral value the habit stands for. He occasionally indulged in some weeping so long as it’s appropriate and in private, but the sense of comfort that resulted would now be alien too.
And in turn, he couldn’t help his continued alienation from others. While it became more normal to be sceptical of the Stiff Upper Lip’s place in the world post WWII, and Arthur adopted more liberal gender norms, he couldn’t completely abandon old associations of maudlin sentiment so long as they persisted with some strength in English society. Being methodically uncomfortable in sharing these rare feelings with others, these days he’d find real comfort instead in his own geography, as he’s often done so in the past. He is always proximate to the ocean, or if not, to rain, or to sombre crowds of people -- with which he convenes, to observe the latent signs of their confident grieving in lieu of what he himself cannot express.
---
Tl;dr what if Arthur is just a boy about emotions but you also used English history to explain it.
hey here's some usuk for @year81, who requested i depict the rapprochement era between the US and UK and she knows i have a weakness for this period of time!… i did a drawing, did some writing, went completely overboard. year 81 already knows im completely lost…
This is mostly Arthur and Alfred reflecting on their feelings about what rapprochement stands for. Despite hating each other for the past 100 years, in the late 19th to early 20th century, they became diplomatically friendly. During this time, support for allyship between the two became more popular within either nation. Truthfully I only know intellectual history and so this is some character analysis on the ideology behind rapprochement rather than the diplomatic details. So that entails more emphasis on ideals and aspirations, etc. A bit more analysis relating to stuff I wrote about before, Arthur feeling insecure and such.. includes some digging into the state of Alfred’s budding hero complex around the turn of the 20th century.
With the writing I experimented a different format where I've got some kind of fanfic-y character analysis followed with a bunch of footnotes consisting of more headcanons... approach this textual monstrosity at your own risk.
I.
1908. Arthur used to hate travelling to America. It didn’t matter what class an American belonged to, they all had the same jeer reserved for the British. Arthur would always take it personally. “They’re so rude,” he’d tell his former charge. Alfred would appear uninterested in such comments. “We have the right to,” he’d always say.
He’s one of your own, isn’t he? the Europeans would say. Invariably, the answer was absolutely not. But these days Alfred had a softer voice. His smile a facsimile of those of fashion catalogue gentlemen.
This is what a “human” face of a greater phenomenon looked like. His nation’s dabbles in imperialism were finally maturing to a solid project. Alfred met the standards for national greatness. Not so much of the isolationist he proclaimed to be.
Last meeting with Alfred was in the winter, he had a large suburban house by Washington, DC. The young man entertained Arthur in his parlour. “Isn’t this all a bit too much for you?” Arthur asked, motioning to the shelves of books, sipping the expensive wine, touching Alfred’s shoulder in approval of the fine tailoring of his Parisian waistcoat.
“No, barely enough,” Alfred said, before looking to the fire at the hearth.
Alfred was a man always in clouds of dust. Radiating the energy of hooves on a wide-open plain, the smell of corn roasting and apples baking. Possessed by a missionary’s zeal to grow up all on his own, while the world rumbled on through their elder years. But Americans had started leaking out of the continent, they’ve been proliferating for the past few decades now. Their universities and businesses were swelling with hot ambition as even their abundant land became barely enough. They were entering adulthood. By the end of the century it was fashionable for those bedizened Americans to marry British men.
Arthur would accidentally have too much wine, it helped with the discomfort of being aware that his host was levelling a military-commander’s gaze at him. He wondered if this was what it was like when those American women sunk their claws into their British grooms of choice.
“Can’t handle your drink again, old man?” Alfred would laugh, probably sober, god he was so young.
The anxiety has been mounting the past few years. Decline seemed inevitable. Arthur’s inadvertent dependence on drink reveals the man who’s tumbled past his prime.
He was Alfred’s elder; only in the sense that he was more experienced. He didn’t believe he was the prattling, desperate European destined for imminent senility -- Alfred had made Arthur out to be that kind of a man ever since declaring independence, but since then Arthur’s empire had only grown stronger. Still, it was these young nations that were now posing the threat to his pre-eminence. Alfred had the talent to deliver a first-class performance of the role of the perfect gentleman, at heart he was a reckless, passionate young person.
Arthur invited Alfred over to his flat as the Olympic games were about to start. All summer London had been soggy from rain, and surely Alfred showed up with some complaints about the weather. But it came with a great bouquet of flowers for Arthur, too. He immediately took care to arrange them in his best vase, Alfred patiently watching on. It was actions of this kind by Alfred that brought some comfort. Indeed, for about the decade up to that point, Arthur had to entertain the obscene idea that he and Alfred would need to arrive at the door of the 20th century in a partnership. It was making more sense, especially as Alfred was slowly reciprocating these peace offerings.
He was annoyed at Alfred for the incidents at the Games, and it seemed that in this delicate game of building alliances, some wrinkles will stubbornly persist. Alfred was unapologetic when his athletes refused to dip the flag for the King, in some kind of show of solidarity with Ireland. Nor did he care to give any excuses for the athletes. Nonetheless they were each others’ companions in spectating those games, attending events throughout those hazy, late summer months. And Alfred resembled one of those athletes. As a gymnast, swimmer, runner, whatever. Being down there and holding up a gold medal would’ve suited him. Compared to anybody else Arthur knew, Alfred best lived up to the ideal of a nation-personification, with that aura of eternal youth, too-perfect fitness. Perhaps Arthur shouldn’t resist the comparisons to himself and Alfred. In this age of greater competition than he could have dreamed, it might be best to accept the relief of a friend appearing at his doorstep with flowers — the gesture that for once, he wouldn’t be cynical about and see it for what it was: there was a time when they were cut from the same cloth, and there was something good about it. Something powerful in that unity.
Alfred might represent rebellion, but in that youthful idealism rebellious spirit is rooted in, Arthur recognized the more fresh-faced, noble, daring part of himself. Wouldn’t it be best to stick together and bring that good to the rest of the world?
Far along the world- wide whisper of the south- wind rushing warm, With the standards of the peoples plunging thro’ the thunder- storm; Till the war- drum throbb’d no longer, and the battle- flags were furl’d In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson, “Lockesley Hall”
II.
Alfred represented not just a nation, at least not in the mundane way Arthur was accustomed for himself and fellow Europeans to be. His ideals outshone him, and made him seem greater than reality, like being a nation state was something more than being a mirror of his people’s reality — he was a refraction of dreams.
In the 17th century, Arthur brought him to the realization that he represented a dream. It was the 17th century, and Arthur was telling him about Europe, how the nations there all came to being through fighting for their lives. Alfred was sheltered from that. He was conceived from a wish. Creatio ex nihilo.
Later, Alfred would understand that his own independence didn’t come from a novel idea, but followed the ideas of generations of philosophers from Europe. These days, he’s become more self aware of what Arthur had bequeathed to his ways of thinking. It took the form of not what he despised about Arthur, but what he saw as respectable about Arthur. Ambition, prudence, benevolence, tact. With the flurry of discourses in his country following his victory over Spain, he saw that these were not necessarily qualities to be too humble about, so long as his pride was not misguided. He was a leader on the world stage now, and still the dream. It was his time to represent the world’s wish for liberty.
Arthur seemed to believe that the two of them had a shared destiny, as they each became custodians of their respective hemispheres. Of course, it may be as natural as the influential Americans such as Andrew Carnegie were making it out to be for the future to have their identities merge into one. The two nations shared the same language, the same respect for individual freedom and rule of law.
He believed they both had the greatest grasp on trade, and the wisdom to conduct their talents for the benefit of humanity. Strategic cooperation was becoming imperative, and as they were both dependent on the sea and required large navies, it would make more sense to be on friendlier terms. Trade was imperative to human happiness, the efficient production and flow of goods necessary for the overall good, the saviours of human suffering to be those who best freed trade from any obstruction. The partnership with Britain and his Navy would therefore be necessary to deliver this.
The spatial and temporal barriers of the oceans were exclusively theirs to subordinate. It seemed to be an inevitability, that they would draw the continents close together. It wasn’t just the waves that they could cut through, but the ocean floors too — for those became laid with the copper wiring that connected the telegraphs of nations, constituting a shared nervous system between the two countries. With this technological manifestation of a telepathic connection, it seemed that he and Arthur would share the headspace of the globalized polity.
Doubts arose in Alfred’s mind. He wanted to avoid the mistakes of those great nations before him — the fear he’s carried ever since he was born. He was an embodiment of the desire to escape tyranny, and now he had the power to combat that which corrupted the world. Arthur never seemed to be bothered by it, Alfred suspected it was because he was of that corruption, one of its greatest perpetrators. And so his alliance with Arthur would have to be one where he had to make the rules -- it would irritate Arthur to no end, but the imperative would eventually become clear to all. Ultimately, they wouldn’t be coming out of this exactly as equals.
It was 1908. He sat next to Arthur on a settee, as rain poured through the night outside Arthur’s flat. The gramophone played, comforting the elder man enough to coax him to disclose something that had been bothering him for a while. “The hubris of our people has been dangerous, hasn’t it? I fear that it’ll lead to the ruin of you and I.”
It was a moment in privacy, meaning the time when they can slip out of the roles of being representatives of what was supposed to be their nations’ official ideologies, and be more critical. Arthur had opportunities like this with meetings with his fellow Europeans, or even with colonies, often with an alcoholic beverage of some sort, for there was relief in being earnest.
“You’re talking about the Games,” said Alfred, with a bemused grin. “Of course, these young athletes will compete with each other to the point of overexertion, won’t they? Especially yours and mine, given their nature.” After all, two particular countries were dominating these Games. It felt only natural to luxuriate in the high of this victory with each other.
Arthur smiled acerbically. “Not talking about the Games anymore. But I am talking about the natures of our young men. There’s a danger when a nation does so well that its young people begin to think they’re invincible, and it’s worse when they think they’re infallible.”
“Yup, the upstarts are annoying. How fascinating.” Alfred’s grin grew, while Arthur’s own smile faded.
“You don’t sense that too, then. There are certain men in power who believe that the only nations that have the ability, means and will do anything about this present sorry state of the world are yours and mine,” he stated. He leaned forward to look Alfred in the eye -- the younger felt self aware, and had to look away after a moment. “That doesn’t strike you as worrying?”
The thing was, when Alfred had these private, self-reflective conversations, it was rarely with other nations -- he simply kept himself at arms length from them. He didn’t understand the kinds of close relationships other humans and nation-personifications talk about, it just wasn’t for him. Something within was burning up, that dissatisfaction with the sense that he had been fragmented along so many lines ever since his conception. His flesh felt so frail then, conscious that it was a thin, gilded shell containing a multitude’s tempest.
Arthur’s expression softened. “You look afraid.”
Alfred shook his head. “When we have the most brilliant people in charge, then we have nothing to fear. Nothing but fear itself.”
Now he could even hear the waver in his own voice. Arthur looked disappointed, though it wasn’t the paternal disgrace towards a subordinate failing to uphold his fortitude, but the resignation to the fact that somebody whose heart was the same could still see things so differently. It prompted Alfred to reach out and take Arthur’s hand. Arthur flinched, but then squeezed the hand and pulled Alfred into an embrace, and Alfred was the pieces of an unfinished manuscript being gathered in an author’s arms.
They could be so close, a single heart shared between two bodies, while at the same time sit on opposing scales of a balance. One is Prometheus running to steal holy fire, the fire known as liberty. The other is Prometheus realizing his mistake as he distributes it to the masses to enlighten them with their humanity. That was a romantic way of looking at it. Alfred nonetheless loved the light and warmth their closeness was cast in. The fireside, drink, the conversation that kept them up until the sun rose, the jubilation of their people, enthralled by spectacles of triumph. Falling into a lull, like one does by the rocking of the seas, in spite of the roiling currents deep beneath.
---
some "footnotes"
Alfred having a softer voice: a reference to the Theodore Roosevelt-era philosophy of “Speak softly and carry a big stick”? ...Maybe. It’s a bit ironic given how obnoxiously loud Alfred was known to be to other nations, yet adopting the “soft voice” of prudence in international affairs made the imperative of developing the “big stick” of military strength more palatable for Americans and non-Americans. AKA what better way to let people know about your ｂｉｇ ｓｔｉｃｋ than speaking in a soft voice.
Fashion catalogues: headcanon: the Europeans have come to see Alfred as representative of a crude kind of mass consumerism by this point.
Isolationism: American foreign policy from independence up to WW2 generally being defined by a preference not to interfere with the affairs of Europeans and vice-versa...
Abundant land: Kind of a reference to the Frontier Thesis, significant in the study of American history and identity, a theme that comes from the essay published in 1893 by Frederick Jackson Turner. It maintains that the pursuit of expanding settlement shaped American character and values, which obviously then has a lot to do with settler colonialism and white supremacy. With its publication, it probably lent Alfred a lot of clarity on his self-conception and overall raison-d’etre at that point of time. Pretty much a cliche at this point, which I suppose I don’t have to digress into that whole thing now. In the case of his relationship with Arthur, the “next step” of American history after the frontier has closed, is to expand American enterprises beyond America. So a partnership with the nation that has the largest global empire would necessarily factor into the plans.
Olympic games: 1908, in London. A diplomatic squabble transpired between the US and Britain with the opening ceremonies. The American flag apparently was not displayed with the flags of other attending nations. In turn, the Americans snubbed respect for the British monarchy when refusing to dip their flags when passing the Royal Box in the ceremony. It was also apparently seen to be a political gesture, in solidarity with Ireland against Britain. American competitors had issues with the fact that timekeepers and judges were British, and that the events followed British rules. Against a background of past geopolitical disputes, the Venezuelan crises, Alaskan boundary dispute, tensions in the Caribbean -- this just served to illustrate that some bitterness between them would be sticking around for a while.
Discourse around Spanish-American war: There was a notable split in support of US imperialism by the turn of the century, I believe with the Philippines and Cuba being particularly problematic. Probably exists hand in hand with America’s conflicted view of his relationship with Britain. Defeating Spain in that war was kind of already America’s crossing of the Rubicon into his globalist, interventionist, imperialist role. The possibility that he could remain a principally isolationist nation, in the way he would prefer, would wear down as the first half of the 20th century transpired, and only remain true as a romantic vision of himself. In reality, he still would be isolated. Just in the sense that it would be difficult to find anybody who he could relate to, and to make any close friends. Which only makes it all the more… special… his relationship would be with England.
Andrew Carnegie: monumental industrialist and philanthropist in American history from the late 19th-early 20th century, notably a proponent of a specific, popular vision of Anglo-American allyship. Saw this to be a teleological conclusion of natural progress. I get the impression that this kind of thinking was really popular with the scientific, cultural, political elite of the time. I think Arthur and Alfred would be tempted by the discourse of certain outcomes being “inevitable,” like the perpetuity of capitalism and free trade, democracy being the best political system -- so long as these were managed properly by the best people. Yet those two have lived through centuries as representatives of their respective societies, amassing some impression that this line of thinking about how history unfolds isn’t quite accurate.
Telegraph: hc that Arthur and Alfred exhibited the specifically Victorian fascination with science and technology. Corporeal metaphors about technology’s impact on the polity would obviously resonate with nation-personifications. What could the argument that advances in communication technologies give rise to the “imagined community” mean for the nation-personification’s sense of self? It might grant one a relatively greater grasp on the significance of peripheral parts of the nation. Does the more immediate access to hear and see these areas and their people increase psychological impact? “We are in the beginning of a new time, with such forces of organisation and unification at work in mechanical traction, in the telephone and telegraph, in a whole wonderland of novel, space- destroying appliances, and in the correlated inevitable advance in practical education, as the world has never felt before.” - H.G. Wells, 1901. The sense of responsibility to better represent more regions and their people grows, even as the sense that the nation is increasingly painfully fragmented along various social and economic lines becomes more evident. But anyway. The telegraph fortifies the greater sense of interconnectedness between the US and UK by the turn of the century. They feel more and more like their destinies are intertwined. The electric lines all run under the Atlantic ocean, like a powerful organ working in the body. Of course, what is Hetalia if there isn’t relentless fetishization of everything in history.
Alfred’s sense that he had been fragmented: because for the past few decades, and for the decades to come, it will become more obvious that the society he represents is deeply unequal. One thing that helps make this more apparent is the representation of oppressed segments of the population (eg. black people, indigenous people, impoverished people, women etc) with technology such as photography, the telegraph and the telephone help make more apparent. It’s manifestly a proliferation of what appears to be different versions of American society that maybe destabilizes Alfred’s preconceptions of himself, while at the same time (as mentioned just above), paradoxically, his sense of self is expanding?
Final paragraph: headcanon: that Arthur is hesitant to have close relationships with others, though still sometimes would seek the company of other nations in informal settings to discuss insecurities and doubts he has about popular trends in society, something I wrote about in previous analyses like this one. All nations were probably facing this difficulty at this time, to varying extents. But Alfred has more difficulty than Arthur doing this, as he has even more mistrust of other Europeans and other nations than Arthur does. Already throughout the 19th century he garners the mistrust of his own neighbours, Canada and Mexico and the rest of the nations of his hemisphere. He is… I guess less likely to have his ambitions checked by others. I think Arthur would’ve found himself inspired by some of Alfred’s idealism.
You made a post about art requests 👀 of you've not got too many art requests, could you do one for England and France? I'd love to know how you see them both! X
doesn't matter what the weather is they'd do anything to attend an opera concert in the park
Here’s another thing for day 7 of @historical-hetalia-week, which probably fits with the theme of “opulence.” February was also LGBT+ history month in the UK, and I thought it’d be cute to put this out on Feb 28…but I ran short on time. I wrote an elaboration of a headcanon I have about male-identifying England/Arthur with decadent hobbies and having sexual relations with men in specifically the late 19th century. Kind of inspired by the view that despite the Victorians being apparently really prudish they were also very horny and kinky, which is maybe what foucault or someone like that contends. Mostly (somehow) inspired by the indisputable fact that Victorian pornography is fun. I discuss why, at this specific time period, England would have been doing gay despite it being crime, how he’d have felt about it, how this affected his relations with other European nations! Also includes a bit about colonialism and sexuality, the paradox of being a gay country, and friendship. Cw. period typical homophobia + internalized homophobia, and period typical racism.
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1894. God forbid anybody who personally knew England finds him in the bar looking like this. Last night he’d seen groups of stylish young men sporting green carnation boutonnières at the opening of Lady Windermere’s Fan, and so this morning he bought a carnation watered with arsenic from Covent Garden to affix to his own green velveteen coat. It was said that the green carnation boutonniere was a fad of the Parisian homosexuals, noted degenerates. But he detected in these little arsenic flowers a hint of an exquisite life – he’d rather die than tell anybody, particularly France, that he thought that.
#OTD in 1798 – United Irishmen Rebellion | Battle of Arklow and Battle of Saintfield.
#OTD in 1798 – United Irishmen Rebellion | Battle of Arklow and Battle of Saintfield.
A force of United Irishmen from Wexford, estimated at 10,000 strong, launched an assault into Co Wicklow, on the British-held town of Arklow, in an attempt to spread the rebellion into Wicklow and to threaten the capital of Dublin. The rebel army that formed for attack on the afternoon of 9 June was a combined force of Wexford and Wicklow rebels led by Billy Byrne, Anthony Perry, Conor McEvoy,…
My hormonal/emotional ass can't draw anything besides Arthur with his firstborn son (Alfred) these days /sob/
It's justtt.. Arthur holding his baby boy for the first time and giving him the name Alfred. Cracking the most genuine smile in centuries and naming the boy after his past king. I don't think he was prepared to feel like he did when little Alfred was born.
I also don't think people in the room would dare take little Alfie away from his dad at that point asdfgghjkl
From the late 19th century until 1916 British soldiers had to grow a moustache and were forbidden to shave their upper lips. If Arthur wanted to be a part of the glorious British Army he’d have to grow some.
