In researching this topic, there was, not surprisingly, very little information about what women did when ‘Aunt Flo’ came to visit. Women would have had to rely on mothers, sisters or female relations to guide them through the process, and those conversations would have always occurred behind the closed door of the bedroom, using euphemisms similar to those we have today.

During the 18th and early 19th centuries, women lacked the modern sanitary products we have today. Instead, they used a variety of materials to manage their periods. Fabric strips, folded pieces of cloth made into homemade pads were commonly used to absorb menstrual flow. These rudimentary products were washable and reusable, as of course disposable products were not yet available. We can guess that the euphemism for having one’s period as being ‘on the rag’ most likely originated from this practice of using rags

It may surprise you to discover that tampons are not a recent development, but their rudimentary form was used even since the ancient civilizations. Historians believed that tampons were commonly used in ancient Egypt, Greece, and looking at this practice might help us to guess at what Georgian era women might have been able to create at home.

The earliest information we have about homemade tampons comes from ancient times and speaks of ‘suppositories’ for the ‘privy place’. These suppositories were in fact early tampons. Their core could be made from a smoothed stick and were about the ‘length of a little finger.’ These were then bound in absorbent linen rags and securely stitched. A long cord was sewn in and could be tied about the leg if desired. These were made at home and I assume were washable or disposable as needed. Hieroglyphics interpreted by historians reveal that in Egypt they also made their own tampons using rolled-up cotton, or softened papyrus. These home-made tampons were cheap to make and so individuals of different socioeconomic backgrounds were able to benefit. Women in ancient Greece also used tampons by wrapping bits of wood together with lint, and others used sea sponges as tampons, which interestingly, is still in practice today! Romans were also known to use pads as well as tampons made of wool. Other tampons were made from small drawstring bags filled with wadding or sponge which could be replaced

When Georgian era women got their periods, they typically avoided social gatherings, attributing it to various reasons such as illness or personal reasons. Politeness and modesty were paramount, since during this era there were strict social expectations for women, which extended to their behaviour during menstruation. Menstruation was shrouded in secrecy and deemed a private matter. Because there was no overt discussion of periods in public spaces, women found ways to communicate their needs and experiences discreetly, and just like we do today, they had euphemisms such as being visited by ‘a friend’ to infer that they were indisposed, and the family or their acquaintance would be told that they were simply ‘unwell’ or ‘indisposed.’

As the 18th century gave way to the 19th, social and scientific advancements began to shape new attitudes towards women's health. The advent of medical knowledge and the gradual spread of women's education enabled a more informed understanding of menstruation. This, in turn, contributed to the development of improved sanitary products and a shift in societal perceptions.
So if you are a woman who is still visited by ‘Aunt Flo’, as annoying and inconvenient as periods are, just be thankful that things are so much easier these days than they were for a woman in the Regency era!

In my latest work-in-progress, a sequel to Sense and Sensibility called A Return to Norland, my heroine’s suitor, Mr Ambrose, gives a dinner in honour of Margaret Dashwood, at which she sees a most elaborate table centerpiece made entirely of ice and marzipan trees and birds. Now, I wasn’t entirely making this up as elaborate table centrepieces were quite common in the upper classes when the host wished to give his or her guests a sense of his wealth and importance. What was the significance of sugar in the regency era, and how did marzipan play a part in this?

That being said, in the regency era, if you were fortunate enough to be attending a dinner party given by one of your middle to upper class acquaintances, you might well see displayed on the table some of these sweet temptations: sugar plums (small, round sweets made of hardened sugar and flavoured with spices, dried fruit, and nuts) comfits (sugar-coated seeds or nuts, often flavoured with anise or caraway) Candied citrus peel, Turkish delight, and Marzipan.

During the 18th century, marzipan became more widely available and was enjoyed by people from all social classes. We can learn a little about marzipan as a status symbol in this period, in how it is mentioned in literature of the day. As exemplified in the quote beginning this blog, Austen and her contemporaries mention marzipan as quite a sought-after sweet…in Chapter 24 of Sense and Sensibility, Mrs Jennings offers a distraught Marianne some marzipan in the hopes that the delicious treat will distract her from her broken heart….as if marzipan could replace Willoughby! Below are some other quotes from literature of the day:

In Austen's novel Emma, Mrs Weston prepares a dessert that includes ‘cakes, creams, and iced sweetmeats,’ including ‘a dish of fine marzipan’ (Chapter 42). Maria Edgeworth's novel Belinda, incudes a scene where people are served a dessert that includes ‘cakes, creams, jellies, and marzipan’ at a dinner party (Chapter 17). And in Fanny Burney's novel Evelina, Captain Mirvan offers the beautiful young Evelina some marzipan, saying ‘Let me persuade you to take a bit of this marzipan; you'll find it exceeding good’ (Volume 1, Letter 26). So we can see that to serve marzipan was seen as a sign of refinement and status, mostly because the sugar to make it was so expensive, and therefore was a popular dish in the Regency and Georgian upper classes.

To begin with, giving birth to a child was a life-threatening event, and the mortality rates of both mother and infants was high. Records are hazy as data wasn’t kept at that time, but based on historical records and estimates, it is believed that the maternal mortality rate for mothers during the Georgian era was between 1,000 and 1,500 deaths per 100,000 live births, and for babies it is supposed to be somewhere near 150-200 deaths per 1,000 live births. I would assume that this is only the counted data, as many families of poorer status would not have bothered to record the death, so the actual rate could be much higher.

If birth did not kill them, many babies died in their first year of life. This was due to a number of factors, including poor sanitation, inadequate medical care, and a lack of understanding of the causes of disease. 

Jane Austen and her siblings were all supposedly sent away to a local village and raised there by an acquaintance of the family. Middle class families like Austen’s could afford to do this, but not all incomes could support this cost. Those more impoverished families would simply employ a nurse to give babies and toddlers the most basic care, keep them out of sight in the upstairs areas, wait for them to gain the age they could behave themselves at the dinner table.

Occasionally, if the mother had too many children to have time to teach her older girls, and they had the means to do so, girls might also be sent away to school for the most basic educations. Then they were expected to come home, help around the house, and wait to be married. Jane Austen and her sister Cassandra were sent away to school for a few years, where they received the most basic instruction. Skills commonly taught females were skills that would help around the home—embroidery, sewing and darning, and basic accounting or math. Some girls might receive extra classes in painting, music and French if they were lucky.

Discipline was strict in Georgian households, with parents using physical punishment as a means of correcting misbehaviour. This included spanking with a cane or switch, and even locking children in dark closets as a form of punishment. Despite these harsh methods, Georgian parents were also as affectionate towards their children as we are today, and to a great extent, parenting was as good or bad as it is today, depending much upon the temperaments of the adults and the children. Georgian life placed a great deal of importance on family relationships. Children were expected to show deference and respect towards their parents and elders, and were taught to value hard work and good behaviour.

Georgian era children played a variety of games and pastimes, many of which would be recognizable today. However, the types of games and activities that were popular varied depending on the child's social class and location. In wealthier households, children might have had access to toys such as dolls, stuffed animals, and board games. They might have played games of skill such as jacks, marbles, or card games, or participated in group games such as hide-and-seek, blindman's buff, or tag. They might also have had access to books, musical instruments, and other forms of entertainment.

Children from less affluent backgrounds might have had fewer toys and less elaborate games to play. They might have spent more time outdoors, playing games of skill and chance such as hopscotch, skipping, or ball games. They might also have engaged in simple crafts or creative activities, such as making dolls or paper boats.

Regardless of their social class, Georgian era children were often expected to help with household chores and other duties as they grew older. They might have been expected to help with cooking, cleaning, or caring for younger siblings. This would have varied depending on the family's circumstances, but would have been a common expectation for children in both cases.

In many ways raising a child in the regency era posed no greater challenges than raising one in the twenty first century, give or take a few variations in child-raising methods and social mores. Even these differences changed depending on social status of the families. Both eras have different challenges, both for parents and children! I will leave you to judge if you would rather raise—or be—a child in the regency era, or a child in 2023!

Now I know not everyone admires cats quite in this same way, but anyone who is a cat-admirer will admit, if you are looking for beauty, companionship and comfort, you might find them all bundled up together—in the soft fur and regal lines of a cat. In this month’s blog, I look at how were cats viewed in the Georgian and Regency eras. Were they as beloved as companions back then as they are today? We'll explore the role of cats as pets during the Georgian era in England and take a look at some famous cat owners of the time, as well as how cats were depicted in art of the period.

During the Georgian era in England (1714-1830), it may not surprise some cat-loving readers to know that cats were widely kept as pets. Well, of course! Although these feline companions were popular for their ability to catch mice and rats, which were common pests in households at the time, they were also often beloved pets. Although previous centuries had viewed cats as associated with witchcraft, and having to earn their keep by hunting mice and vermin, this view began to change in the 18th century, and cats became more accepted as pets and even a status symbol.

The poet Christopher Smart was also known to have a cat named Jeoffry, whom he wrote about in his poem "Jubilate Agno". Jeoffry was Smart's loyal companion and comforted him during his periods of mental illness.

Cats were often portrayed in art and literature of the period, and these images tell us a lot about the different relationships between owners and pets, as well as how they were viewed by society on the whole. These beautiful animals, with their elegant appearance and playful nature made them a popular subject for portraits and sketches. Cats were often depicted as pets or as part of domestic scenes, and in many of these images, cats were shown as valued companions and beloved members of the household. A common motif was the depiction of young girls with kittens as we see below:

Here the kittens paired with young girls are meant to symbolize the tender relationship between the two as well as implying that the young girl is as fragile and innocent as the kitten. These images make me think of today’s photographic portraits of toddlers in flowerpots and other cute scenarios, that adoring parents have done of their children—these images are meant to remind proud parents of the sweetness and innocence of children…at least in the pictures!

As time passed from the 1700s through to the 1800s, there were some differences in the way that cats were viewed and treated during the Regency era. One notable change was the increasing popularity of purebred cats, which were bred for their specific physical characteristics and temperament. This led to the creation of many new breeds of cats, including the Siamese, Persian, and British Shorthair, which were highly prized for their beauty and elegance.

As time passed from the 1700s through to the 1800s, there were some differences in the way that cats were viewed and treated during the Regency era. One notable change was the increasing popularity of purebred cats, which were bred for their specific physical characteristics and temperament. This led to the creation of many new breeds of cats, including the Siamese, Persian, and British Shorthair, which were highly prized for their beauty and elegance.

Additionally, there was a growing interest in animal welfare during the Regency era, which led to increased concern for the health and well-being of pets, including cats. This can be seen in the work of animal rights activists such as William Wilberforce and the founding of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA) in 1824.

If you are an Austen fan you may wonder if Jane herself had a cat? We cannot know for sure but in a letter dated September 23, 1811, Austen wrote to her sister Cassandra about a cat that had taken up residence at a friend's house: "We have got a new cat; a black kitten, almost as large as a full grown cat, very cunning & wild." In another letter dated January 23, 1801, Austen described a cat that belonged to one of her acquaintances as "a fine large cat, black and white, who appeared highly pleased with her situation."

Needless to say that cats were, then, often a favourite pet in the Georgian era, and some were very highly regarded by their owners. Nothing much has changed in two hundred odd years! I shall finish with my favourite cat quote, although it is not from the Georgian era, but from recent times:

Austen herself had much to say about the importance of sweets, not one of which is her quote above. She approved of sugar in moderation, and talks of her delight in a bath bun, her interest in sponge cakes, and in her novel Emma, Mrs Weston’s wedding cake is eaten down to the last crumb—and enjoyed by young and old!

Some popular desserts of the Georgian and Regency era were blancmanges, cakes and biscuits, especially macarons, baked fruits such as apples, custards, puddings, cheesecakes (which were nothing like our popular creamy version, but were made from almond meal and were more solid, usually baked in a puff pastry) ices (not the ice cream we know today, but more like sorbet), sweet pies, cakes, trifles, flummery, syllabubs, preserved fruits and so on. Not much different today, really, except the ingredients had no chemical preservatives and additives, so were likely a lot healthier!

Syllabub was generally made with whipped cream, whipped egg whites, red or white wine, sugar, and in the regency era, lemon juice and zest. Today’s syllabubs can be any flavour, and be combined creatively with any fruit and spices, but the traditional flavour is still lemon. The quantity of wine added would determine the consistency qualifying whether the mixture would be a creamy dessert or a thick beverage. Supposedly, one always knew who had been at the syllabub, because you would be given away by the white ‘moustache’ on your upper lip!

Here is another Georgian era recipe for the whipped confection:

Take a quart of thick cream, and half a pint of sack, the juice of two Seville oranges, or lemons; grate in the peel of two lemons; half a pound of double-refined sugar, pour it into a broad earthen pan, and whisk it well; but first sweeten some red wine, or sack, and fill your glasses as full as you chuse; then as the froth rises take it off with a spoon, and lay it carefully into your glasses, till they are as full as it will hold.

From Charles Carter The London and Country Cook (London: 1749)

Here is a modern versions I found—needless to say, you will not have to whip it with a birch rod for half an hour!

Traditional Syllabub
•rind and juice of 1 lemon
•7 tbs sweet white wine
•2 tbs sherry
•1/2 pint double cream
•2 oz very fine sugar (we like to use icing sugar)
•grated nutmeg

Place the lemon rind, juice, wine, sherry, and sugar in a bowl and leave to soak for several hours. Remove the lemon rind. Add the cream. Whisk until it forms soft peaks. Put into glasses. If not serving immediately, put in the fridge to chill. However, it is best to make this shortly before you plan to serve it.

Garnish with grated nutmeg and some lemon rind twists. Serves 4

The idea of “paying calls” comes up frequently in Regency-era fiction, because, in the absence of social media, the paying of short calls on one’s acquaintance was the social glue which held society together. In bite-sized fifteen-minute ‘catch-ups’ one could keep a useful acquaintance going, without having to put in too much effort. There were many rules of etiquette to follow in the making of calls, sometimes known as morning calls, which I will cover in another blog, but today I wanted to show you some authentic calling cards and explain some of the mysterious etiquette surrounding them!

I got interested in this because in my latest work-in-progress, A Return to Norland, Fanny Dashwood begins a season in London by leaving her calling cards with her acquaintance in town, so that they know she has officially arrived. So of course, this led to more research and this blog!

Calling cards were an important part of polite society. Often the first meeting between two parties began with the civility of exchanging cards. A gentleman or lady always carried them and would give their card to the footman who answered the door, who would then announce their visit to the gentleman or lady of the house. Everyone had calling cards, females from the age they were considered ‘out’ to gentlemen, to elderly spinsters; so long as you were somewhere in the middle or upper classes, you would pay calls and leave cards.

Wives and husbands each had their own cards. Let’s say Mr and Mrs Toffeenose called in at their friend’s house, Mr and Mrs Neverhome, they would each leave a card. One from Mrs Toffeenose to Mrs Neverhome, and one from Mr Toffeenose to Mr Neverhome. The gents only left cards for the gents, unless he were specifically calling on the lady. Ladies never called on or left cards for men, unless it was strictly a business matter. The number of residents in a home must also be considered. If Mrs Mary Toffeenose called at a house where there was a lady of the house, a daughter or two and an elderly mother-in-law, three cards would be left. If there were a husband, but Mary Toffeenose called without her husband, she would not leave her card for the husband, only cards for the wife, daughters and elderly mother-in-law.

Calling cards not only served to announce one’s arrival in town, or that you are sorry you missed someone not at home, but also they were given to those with whom you desired to have an acquaintance. For example, if Mary Toffeenose wanted to climb the social ladder and try for a friendship with Lady Rotteneggs, she would visit, present her card to the groom or butler, who would ask her to wait, while the card was delivered to Lady Rotteneggs. Lady Rotteneggs would then either accept the card and have Mary Toffeenose shown into the drawing room, or she would return the card to the groom and tell him to tell Mrs Toffeenose that she ‘was not at home’. This was a way of screening those who you considered below you or whom you did not want to pursue as an acquaintance.

‘She reached the house without any impediment, looked at the number, knocked at the door, and inquired for Miss Tilney. The man believed Miss Tilney to be at home, but was not quite certain. Would she be pleased to send up her name?
She gave her card. In a few minutes the servant returned, and with a look which did not quite confirm his words, said he had been mistaken, for that Miss Tilney was walked out.
Catherine, with a blush of mortification, left the house.’

–Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

This phrase ‘not at home’ wasn’t actually considered a lie, even if the person were home. It was generally accepted in society that to say you are not home, means that you are either unable or unwilling to receive at that time. If it was a new acquaintance, you may not try again, as to be rejected generally meant that the person did not desire your acquaintance. But most of the time it meant just that the person really did not feel like guests, and would probably see you another time. By far the best way to see if you were welcome, was to simply leave your card without enquiring if the lady were home, and wait for her to return to call. If she did, then you were on the road to an acquaintance with that person.

Cards, especially of those you considered desirable acquaintances, were displayed in a salver on the hall table so that others could see whom of high-society was calling on you—in order to impress your lesser-ranked callers. In Austen’s Persuasion, Sir Walter and Elizabeth took great pride in displaying the cards of prestigious Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret on their hall table for all to see:

The toils of the business were over, the sweets began. They visited in Laura Place, they had the cards of Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple, and the Honourable Miss Carteret, to be arranged wherever they might be most visible: and “Our cousins in Laura Place,”–“Our cousin, Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret,” were talked of to everybody. – Jane Austen, Persuasion.

So next time you call on someone who isn’t home, consider resurrecting that most necessary nineteenth century social protocol, and leave a personal calling card!

Coffee had been introduced to English society in the 1600s, and by 1675 there were over 3,000 coffee shops spread over England. We are told that the atmosphere in these cafes was as much a part of the attraction as the drink, I guess not unlike today’s cafes, where people go for the ambience, and to be seen, as much as for the coffee itself.

Many virtues have been ascribed to this berry, which it never possessed; and much undeserved censure has been thrown upon its use. It is certainly good in weakness of the stomach, head-ache, and want of appetite; in lethargic and sleepy diseases; but it is not good for lean and bilious people, nor for women in a state of pregnancy. Its invigorating qualities are strongly experienced, by taking it when the stomach is over-loaded with food, nauseated with surfeit, or weakened by intemperance; and it certainly takes away that listlessness and languor, which nervous people so severely feel, after any deviation to excess, fatigue, or irregularity. It is said to be of use in the gravel; and a dish of strong coffee, without milk or sugar, taken frequently in the height of an asthmatic fit, contributes much to its abatement. In the wet and damp seasons, to which the climate of England is so subject, there is no doubt but great advantage must result from the use of coffee.

(Perkins, 1796)

In a letter to her sister Cassandra in 1799, Austen noted that coffee was regularly on the breakfast table while her brother was home, noting, ‘It is rather impertinent to suggest any household care to a housekeeper, but I just venture to say that the coffee-mill will be wanted every day while Edward is at Steventon, as he always drinks coffee for breakfast’.

Generally, the poorer and lower middle class households first referred to textbooks such as Buchan’s Domestic medicine or the family physician (1769). Buchan wrote Domestic Medicine not as a medical text book exactly, but more like a home remedy book, which families could refer to. It described various different ailments, and their treatments, clearly enough that untrained people could diagnose and ‘cure’ (perhaps) whatever it was that ailed the family member. Jane Austen’s family supposedly had a copy.

But what if the ailment or injury was too difficult to cure by home remedies, or that applying leeches to little Sarah for three days merely exacerbated her symptoms? What to do?
Then people had the option to summon an apothecary, a surgeon, (and many times the apothecary doubled up as a surgeon if there was no skilled surgeon in the area, as in rural locations) or if you had enough money, a physician.

None of this means that his medical attention was efficacious or that richer people got a better quality of expertise. In their education, never did would-be doctors practice on actual patients. All their learning was done by listening to lectures on medicine. A website called ‘Pen and Pension’ has a really interesting page on medicine in Georgian era England, and it seems that medical practice in England in the Georgian era was pretty much a free-for-all, and that there were just as many, if not more, ‘quacks’ than men with a genuine idea of how to go about things.

‘It was far from unknown for people in need to turn to the local ‘horse doctor.’ One traveller needing medical help was told …that there was no one who could do it, but a Man that lived three miles off, who was a good Physician, bled every Man, and Calf, in the neighbourhood, and was a pretty good Surgeon, for he had been originally a Sow gelder.’

Just because you could afford a physician, didn’t mean you got a treatment that worked. Nothing worked all of the time, and sometimes, less was more, as in the case of blood-letting and use of narcotics and opiates!

Heyer’s regencies were inspired by Austen’s, but she brought to the genre a new life and a much less ‘serious’ feel than Austen did. Heyer was, however, a stickler for accuracy, which I presume must have come about from a fascination with the Georgian and Regency eras, and which anyone who loves Regency writing can sympathize with—Heyer collected references, books and historic documents, and kept detailed notes on all aspects of regency life. She is, for example, well known for her use of ‘regency cant’ the vernacular of the day, and which she sprinkled liberally throughout her novels. It is generally accepted that she made up some of these words herself, but even if she did, they lend an authentic feeling to her writing. For example, phrases such as ‘doing it too much brown’ (flattery), ‘to become a tenant for life’ (marriage) and ‘to be in damned low water’ (poor). These lend sparkle and life to her sentences and characters—the sparkle which draws us to her writing and which is unlike any other writer then or now. (For more on her regency ‘cant’, here is a great website which catalogues many of her turns of phrase, authentic or made up.)

That was not the only instance of plagiarism. In 1961, another reader wrote of similarities found in the works of another female novelist. These novels borrowed plot points, characters, surnames, and plentiful Regency slang. Apparently, her fans accused Heyer of "publishing shoddy stuff under a pseudonym". In response, Heyer made a complete list of the plagiarisms, including the historical mistakes in the books. Among the phrases that writer ‘borrowed’ were repeated use of the phrase "to make a cake of oneself", which Heyer had discovered in a privately printed memoir unavailable to the public. In another case, the author referenced a supposedly historical incident that Heyer had actually invented, in an earlier novel—a dead give-away for plagiarism, and I read somewhere a long time ago now, that Heyer claimed she had invented some of the phrases herself, and was able to catch out the offending novelist by pointing out the use of the same phrases in the plagiarised novels.

Perhaps these events make her more interesting to a reader—I certainly found her books fascinating because of it, and one can see why Heyer was so wildly successful enough to have other writers attempt to plagiarize her work. She writes with wit, certainly with a sense of the comedy of life, with an eye to detail and makes use of intricately woven plots, and most of all, she is funny…all of which make for the best reading.

Mrs Elton was a little shocked at the want of two drawing rooms, at the poor attempt at rout cakes, and there being no ice in the Highbury card parties. (Jane Austen, Emma)

‘Joseph Sedley contented himself with a bottle of claret besides his Madeira at dinner, and he managed a couple of plates full of strawberries and cream, and twenty-four little rout cakes that were lying neglected in a plate near him.

What exactly is a rout, anyway? According to the Oxford English Dictionary a rout is ‘a fashionable gathering; a large evening party or soirée of a type fashionable in the 18th and early 19th centuries.’
Apparently, however, a ‘rout’ was not too large a gathering—under ten card tables, (which I believe seated four people) in fact. The earliest reference to the word rout goes back to 1745 in E. Haywood Female Spectator, the Georgian era equivalent of our modern Woman’s Day Magazine, which qualifies a rout this way. ‘She told me, that when the Number of the Company for Play exceeded ten Tables, it was called a Racquet, if under it was only a Rout.’

Rout Cakes are a kind of rich sweet cake flavoured with brandy and/or orange juice, rose water, Madeira and usually currants. These were traditional at a party/rout—and in the regency, ‘routs’ were very popular. Who doesn’t like boozy cakes!!

Now, I do love trying my hand at Regency era recipes, so for this blog I went looking for recipes—and found that there is a lot of variation in recipes. So for interest, here is the recipe which dates the earliest, and comes from Maria Rundell’s A New System of Domestic Cookery.(1824)

Rout Drop-Cakes
Mix two pounds, one ditto butter, one ditto sugar, one ditto currants, clean and dry; then wet into a stiff paste, with two eggs, a large spoonful of orange-flower water, ditto rose-water, ditto sweet wine, ditto brandy, drop on a tin floured: a very short time bakes them.

But for more modern cooks, below is a recipe which might be easier to follow, and the one I used myself. See my photo below. I had a blast making them, and I can understand why Joseph Sedley ate so many!