Friday, 1 January 2016

The Illustrated London News

I've just spent a wonderful couple of hours perusing the Illustrated London News from 1851 (best Christmas present ever?).

Here are the top 5 things I've found!

1. The 'Orchestron'. Possibly the most incredible musical instrument I've ever seen...


...and a subsequent engraving would seem to indicate that it is best accompanied by a trumpet-playing William Shakespeare?!


2. A rather charming advert for Victorian ready meals.


"IMPROMPTU DINNERS. - At ten minutes' notice, a first-rate dinner [...] can be put on the table by means of RITCHIE AND McCALL'S HOUSEHOLD PROVISIONS, which are the choicest productions of the markets, dressed by a first-rate French cook, and put up in vacuum canisters, so as retain their freshness and flavour for an indefinite period".

3. A massive Victorian wedding cake. I love massive Victorian wedding cakes. There is no indication of scale on this one, but it does seem to be on wheels.


4. Some taxidermied frogs, that are inexplicably shaving. What happens if frogs don't shave?! Do they become furry? Are frogs just shaved mice? Who knows. Maybe the frog with a parasol does.


5.'SUPERB NOVELTIES IN PAPIER MACHE'.


Ah yes, just what I've always wanted. A novelty papier-mache 'regency writing desk' - from no less a person than the Inventor of the Patent Castellated Tooth Brush...!


Happy New Year!
The Secret Victorian

Thursday, 24 December 2015

Crackers for Christmas

Doubtless everyone is starting to get swept up in the frivolities of the festive season - traditions that often originated in the 19th century...

Picture by Jana Ruzena, from her brilliant blog.

Famously, Prince Albert popularised the idea of Christmas trees in Britain, having put one up in Windsor Castle in 1841 and thereby introducing this German tradition to a new audience - but that's not the only thing we have to thank the Victorians for at Christmas.

The first Christmas card, for example, was commissioned by Henry Cole in 1843. Cole was an amazing man, who "wrote excellent and popular children's books, published the first Christmas card, was [...] the Assistant Keeper of the Public Records, [...] helped to launch the Penny Post, campaigned - again successfully - for the standard guage railway track, was to be in charge of the South Kensington Museum for twenty years, and was eventually to be responsible for the Royal College of Music and the Albert Hall" *.

He was also good friends with Prince Albert, was responsible for the Great Exhibition, and designed a prize-winning teapot. As you do.

Father Christmas was 'standardised' by the Victorians. He had previously been dressed in red (with white crosses) during his time as St Nicholas, and had started wearing green when he began to move around Europe. But it was the Victorians who decided that he should wear red, with a white fur trim, as we see him today.

Another photo from Jana Ruzena's blog.


I was reading this article from QI yesterday, and was intrigued to discover the humble cracker is also a Victorian invention...

"crackers were originally called ‘Cosaques’. It’s because when they were invented in the mid-19th century, the sound they made reminded people of the cracking whips of the Cossacks as they rode through Paris during the Franco-Prussian war [...] crackers went on to be named ‘Bangs of Expectation’."

Bangs of Expectation

I think we should start a campaign to re-instate the name "Bangs of Expectation". Who's with me?

Merry Christmas!
The Secret Victorian

*according to Rhodes James' biography of Prince Albert.

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Doctor Who in the Nineteenth Century

Doctor Who is back! I hasten to add that this post is spoiler-free. Never fear: no spoilers here.

Reading this, you're almost certainly aware that the Doctor is a frequent visitor to the Victorian era, as explained in great detail here.


Some Whovians I know resent this, prefering adventures in space to adventures in time. Personally, however, I can imagine nothing better than going back to the Victorian age, and completely understand why the Doctor keeps going there!



This got me thinking about which Victorian things the Doctor should do next, and I'm convinced that he should gatecrash the Great Exhibition of 1851. If only for the look on Prince Albert's face. The TARDIS could become an exhibit; there were far stranger things on show from around the globe! According to this site, the Doctor has visited before. But never on-screen. And paradoxes could be avoided by visiting at a different time; it was open for over 5 months, after all.


(cracking cravat-waistcoat combo in the above image, by the way)

But if the Doctor goes back to the Victorian era again, I'd like to go with him please!

Anyone want to come with us? Which Victorian event do you want to see the Doctor explore?

The Secret Victorian



Wednesday, 16 September 2015

Sherlock Holmes: The Case of Mrs Beeton and the Biscuit Syringe

Yes, this is another post about Victorians and their obsession with cake. But hey, you can't have too much cake (or Victorians), right?!

First things first - macaroons. Here's an extract of a recipe from Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management, that most classic of Victorian recipe books:
Macaroons.
Blanch, skin, and dry the almonds, and pound them well with a little orange-flower water or plain water; then add to them the sifted sugar and the whites of the eggs, which should be beaten to a stiff froth, and mix all the ingredients well together. When the paste looks soft, drop it at equal distances from a biscuit-syringe on to sheets of wafer-paper; put a strip of almond on the top of each; strew some sugar over, and bake the macaroons in rather a slow oven, of a light brown colour when hard and set, they are done, and must not be allowed to get very brown, as that would spoil their appearance. If the cakes, when baked, appear heavy, add a little more white of egg, but let this always be well whisked before it is added to the other ingredients. We have given a recipe for making these cakes, but we think it almost or quite as economical to purchase such articles as these at a good confectioner’s.

I like how the end of the recipe is basically saying "no-one has time to make these, seriously, just go and buy some". I mean honestly, who dries their own almonds, let alone owns a 'biscuit-syringe' (to be fair I really want one now *adds to Christmas list*)

But who was Mrs Beeton?

Isabella Mary Beeton (née Mayson) was educated in Germany for two years, and was also an accomplished pianist. She married Samuel Beeton, an influential publisher, and at the age of 20 began to help him to translate and transcribe novels for publication.

Four years earlier, Mr Beeton had launched The English Woman's Domestic Magazine, which Isabella now helped him to edit.


Here, accounts of Mrs Beeton diverge into the pro-Beeton and anti-Beeton camps. On the one hand there are those who say she was a culinary pioneer, looking out for cash-strapped families and helping them to improve their culinary skills and dietary range. On the other hand, many argue that she plagiarised the majority of her recipies, lifting them from other publications and passing them off as her own. A little research on the internet has turned up a fair few arguments for both sides of this historical debate - here are two of the more succinct arguments:

Representing the pro-Beetons, we have www.mrsbeeton.com ...

 "In 1852 he [Mr Beeton] had launched The English Woman's Domestic Magazine, the first magazine to be devoted entirely to the interests of women, which was a great success, much of it edited by Isabella. The Beetons invited recipe contributions from readers, and so many poured in that a selection of them was published in 24 monthly parts from 1859 to 1961, when they were put together in bound form as Beeton's Book of Household Management. So began the major work for which Mrs. Beeton is known. It was a serious, and very good, cookery book of mid-Victorian and early 19th century recipes - recipes which would help people, as she put it herself, to "live economically, tastefully and well."
Every recipe that was published was tried out in her own kitchen, by herself, her cook and her kitchenmaid. Only the ones that worked well were included. Her first criterion was that they should be truly economical, so the cost was always included at the end of each recipe, as well as how many mouths each dish would feed."

For Team Anti-Beeton, we have the Guardian newspaper ... 

"If Mrs Beeton had been alive today she would be in trouble for plagiarism on a shocking scale [...] The image of the original domestic goddess and author of the definitive book on cookery and household management has been tainted. The real Mrs Beeton was in fact a strip of a girl who could not cook.
The historian Kathryn Hughes has written the definitive biography of a woman born in 1836 who became a template for hardworking housewives. [...] Isabella Beeton was only 21 when she began cookery writing. Her first recipe for Victoria sponge was so inept that she left out the eggs. Seven years later she was dead. How did she come to write the seminal book? "The answer is she copied everything," Hughes said.
It took Hughes five years to track down the recipes which she discovered had been brazenly copied by Mrs Beeton, almost word for word, from books as far back as the Restoration."

You can read the whole article here.

But whatever you think of Mrs Beeton, you must admit that the pictures in her book were beautiful. I would like to eat all of these - preferably not all at once though!


 
One for the Bake Off fans: this week contestants have been making Charlotte Russe as part of  Victorian week, and there's one in the above image...

A further note: Mrs Beeton's husband Samuel was also responsible for founding Beeton's Christmas Annual in 1860 - excitingly, this was the magazine in which Sherlock Holmes first appeared, in November 1887.



Ignoring the possible plagiarism issue, therefore, I think the Beetons were pretty cool. They were Victorians with an interest in baking and Conan Doyle - what more could you want?!


The Secret Victorian

 

Saturday, 22 August 2015

Drawing* attention to Victorian cartoons

*pun intended.

Cartoons are marvellous. They can be witty, satirical, clever, or just plain funny. And even better, the Victorians were the first to associate the word 'cartoon' with comical drawings,  giving a name to the satirical output of the likes of Hogarth and Gilray (two fantastic Georgians - but I mustn't get sidetracked).

In honour of this great tradition, here are my three all-time favourite Victorian cartoons, both of the time and more recent creations.

This is from an 1851 edition of Punch. I wonder if it was based on the artist's own experiences?!


This one is by Kate Beaton. It's a perfect satire of the Victorian can-do attitude. Plus, it features Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who (quite frankly) was fabulous. I may give him a blog post all to himself at some point soon...


But my absolute favourite Victorian cartoon is this, from a past issue of Private Eye. I liked it so much at the time that I cut it out, and it has been sat in a little frame on my desk ever since!


However, I can't possibly do a blog about Victorian cartoons without mentioning the brilliant Sydney Padua, author of The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage. If you haven't read it, you really should:

1. it's a graphic novel about awesome Victorians. Few people are more awesome than Ada Lovelace, and Padua makes her even more awesome in the book. It's incredible.
2. the illustrations are beautiful, and make the book immensely readable, even if (like me) you're new to graphic novels.
3. FOOTNOTES. So many footnotes. Read the book, and revel in the glory of learning about Victorians through the medium of footnotes. You think Terry Pratchett was fond of footnotes? His were a drop in the ocean compared to these!
4. It features the Duke of Wellington, and Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Need I say more?!


The history of cartoons is in itself quite interesting. Punch's website elaborates further:

"It was Punch which invented the cartoon as we know it today. One momentous day, Punch made a grim joke which accidentally changed the English language by giving a new meaning to an old word. The butt of the joke was an exhibition intended to help in the selection of new paintings and murals for the Houses of Parliament, then being rebuilt after the disastrous fire of 1834. Artists made their submissions in the form of cartoons – the original meaning of the word was a preliminary drawing for a work of art; a painting, a fresco, a tapestry. At the time, the most important part of the magazine was a full-page satirical drawing, known as The Big Cut, entitled 'Mr Punch’s Pencillings'. But in July 1843, The Big Cut was replaced for a week by the magazine’s own entry for the Parliamentary exhibition. In a series of drawings which it ironically titled “cartoons”, Punch contrasted the sumptuousness of the Parliamentary plans with the miserable poverty of the starving population. [...] it parodied beautifully the designs submitted to the 1843 competition to decorate Westminster. As a result the word "cartoon" stuck and became associated with pictorial satire and eventually with any humorous drawing."


What's your favourite Victorian cartoon?  Let me know in the comments or tweet them to me @nice_cravat...

And if you haven't already, you should check out all the cartoonists, magazines and websites I've mentioned! Links:
Punch
Kate Beaton
Private Eye
Sydney Padua


Enjoy!
The Secret Victorian 


P.S. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present my aforementioned desk, currently adorned with two more cartoons than usual as a result of this blog...!






Monday, 10 August 2015

Return of the 5-foot wedding cake

You may remember this phenomenal 5-foot wedding cake from my last post.


In discovering this cake, I was distracted by the man who designed it - Albert Hastings Markham (1841-1918):



It transpires that he was a brilliant character who seems to embody much of the Victorian spirit of adventure and discovery. For your perusal, here follow the results of my research, presented in an internet-friendly Buzzfeed-esque listicle:

5 Things I Bet You Didn't Know About Albert Hastings Markham:

1. Despite suffering from crippling seasickness, he joined the Navy at the age of 15.
He spent the next 8 years fighting Chinese pirates.

2. He broke the record for most northerly point reached at the time.
Having left the Navy after they refused to let him undertake an official research expedition to the Arctic, Markham displayed some classic Victorian chutzpah and went anyway. He and his sledge team made it all the way to (83° 20' N), but sadly didn't make it all the way to the Pole. They did get this lovely souvenir painting made though!



3. He has a bird named after him in recognition of his contributions to science.
Markham’s Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma markhami) was named after he published a list of Pacific Gulls in 1882.

4. He designed the flag of New Zealand.
Markham came up with the distinctive design, which was then authorised by Governor Bowden - who is often credited with the design as well. Outrageous.

5. His father captained ships with awesome names.
John Markham was variously in control of HMS Phoenix, HMS Volcano, HMS Zebra, HMS Sphinx, and HMS Blonde, among others. He was promoted to command the Volcano by Sir Peter Parker, who sadly was not some sort of Georgian Spiderman. As far as I can tell.


In short: Rear-Admiral A. H. Markham was awesome. He managed to achieve most of the classic schoolboy career aspirations: pirate-hunter, ship's captain, explorer... and still had time to design his own wedding cake.


This post doesn't particularly help anyone to live 21st-century life as a Victorian, but it was so interesting I thought I'd share it anyway. I can't promise that there will be no more wild tangents in future posts...!
The Secret Victorian


(Many thanks to this lovely website, where I got most of the information in this post from, and where you can find even more information about Markham if you so wish!)

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Bake Off is back! And it's more Victorian than you'd think.


Spectacular bakes are nothing new - the Victorians had showstoppers down to a fine art.
The records of the Great Exhibition of 1851 show that among thousands of cakes, buns and biscuits served to visitors was the humble macaroon, perhaps the most prolific of Bake Off staples:

 
And yet Mary and Paul can’t even begin to compete with the Victorians, who managed to consume an impressive 1500 lbs (around 680 kg) of macaroons at the Great Exhibition.

If you assume that one weighs approximately 20g, I think this means they got through around 34,000 macaroons. Blimey. I wonder if you could fit them all into the Bake Off tent?!
 
Many of the images included in Mrs Beeton’s 1861 Book of Household Management look worthy of a Bake Off showstopper. I’d like to see this year’s contestants attempt this glorious trifle, for example. Wouldn't it be wonderful if those were little macaroons around the side?
 
The Victorians were also crazy about wedding cakes, which were of course the technical challenge in Bake Off's series 4 final. While Frances’ winning cake was certainly impressive, it pales in comparison to the intricate majesty of this Victorian wedding cake. The groom - Admiral Markham - designed it himself! I wonder what his new wife thought of it. Yes, it was beautifully intricate, but it was also 5-foot high...

 
If you know of any other culinary Victorian masterpieces, why not share them in the comments below?
 
Happy Baking!
The Secret Victorian