Valentine's Day in Regency England

by Donna Hatch, www.donnahatch.com

Happy Valentine's Day! 

Valentine’s Day in Regency England was very different from the way we celebrate it today. People of all classes exchanged hand-made cards with hand-written verses. During the Victorian Era, Valentine’s Day cards became mass-produced, but in the Regency, such a gesture required more thought and care.

Cards sent were as varied as the senders. Some were made with gilt-edged paper, trimmed with lace–real lace, not paper lace since that had not yet been invented. They could be embossed or have gold overlay or even sequins. Those who could not afford such luxuries made them out of simple paper which was still an expensive commodity for the less affluent. Flowers seemed to be the most common decoration but cards were also decorated with hearts, birds, and even timeless cupids.

Those who fancied themselves poetic wrote their own verses but most probably copied verses from known poets, or even from books that provided special, Valentine’s Day messages. These books even provided replies for the lady to use to encourage or dash the hopes of her admirer. The verse in the card to the right says (if I deciphered the handwriting correctly):

I dream and my heart consuming lay
On cupid’s burning shrine
I thought he stole my heart away
And placed it near to thine.

Here is a sad verse from a Valentine’s Day card from 1790:

My dear the Heart which you behold,
Will break when you the same unfold,
Even so my heart with lovesick pain,
Sure wounded is and breaks in twain.

This seems to have been written by someone who had already been rejected but needed the recipient to know of his pain and broken-hearted devotion.

Other sources cite much more sordid Valentine verses, much to the horror of the parents whose daughters received such bawdy notes. I won't share those here lest I offend my readers' delicate sensibilities ;-)

Valentine’s Day in Regency England was a day to celebrate love, or at least interest, for all classes. What I find puzzling is that it was considered ill-mannered during the Regency to exchange letters or notes between unmarried ladies and gentlemen. However, this practice seems to have been largely ignored on Valentine’s Day. Reportedly, the post was inundated with mail on that day filled with Valentine’s Day cards exchanged between the young and young at heart. I found no mention of Valentine’s Day cards exchanged between married couples. They could have been, but that didn’t seem to be a common practice. But don’t tell my husband that 

If you’d like to learn more about the history of Valentine’s Day, check out my post: Will the Real Valentine Please Step Forward.

There are some beautiful Regency Valentine’s Day cards on auction here:

Sources:

Ruth Axtell’s Reflections on Valentine’s Day at the Christian Regency blog

Susan Holloway’s Father Warns Against Depravity on Two Nerdy History Girls 

Donna Hatch

Author of Historical Romance and Fantasy, award-winning author Donna Hatch is a sought-after speaker and workshop presenter. Her writing awards include the Golden Rose, the International Digital Awards, the Readers' Choice Award, and the prestigious Golden Quill. Her passion for writing began at age 8 she wrote her first short story, and she wrote her first full-length novel during her sophomore year in high school, a fantasy which was later published. In between caring for six children, (7 counting her husband), her day job as a docent for a one-room schoolhouse, and her many volunteer positions, she still makes time to write. After all, writing IS an obsession. All of her heroes are patterned after her husband of over 20 years, who continues to prove that there really is a happily ever after.

The Persuit of Pleasure in Georgian England

by Guest Blogger Jenna Jaxon

Georgian London was a wild and wooly place. Men gambled and drank to excess, losing fortunes in the popular gaming hells. Noblemen raced all manner of vehicles, for wagers or simply for the sheer fun of it. Duels were common and fought regularly to defend one’s honor. And the sex trade ran rampart throughout the city. Current estimates say that one in five women in London were prostitutes.
Women became prostitutes for a variety of reasons: women who had nowhere to turn to after the death of a husband might begin to sell her wares; young girls just come to town could be tricked into joining a bawdy house; children as young as eight years old were sometimes sold into prostitution. London was considered the most depraved city of the age.

As there was a class system for all English people, there was also a hierarchy for whoring. On the bottom most rung was the common streetwalker, also called a “two-penny bunter,” who did her business up against a building or fence but out in the public, albeit dark, street. Next up the ladder was the harlot who worked from rented rooms or a lower-class bawdy house (run by a bawd or female procuress). If a woman were very comely, she might find herself in a higher-class establishment (like the House of Pleasure in my series), often called a “nunnery” (shades of Shakespeare’s Hamlet!), where a woman would be taught manners, how to speak properly, and how to give men the most pleasure possible. The highest place a courtesan could aspire to was the patronage of a nobleman who would keep her in style until he grew tired of her, at which point she would move on to the next wealthy “protector.”

Although some women made fortunes at their trade—it is estimated that prostitutes of at least the middling sort could earn over 400 pounds a year—most women who fell into this life most often lived hard lives (save for the highest valued courtesans), dying in their early thirties usually of venereal diseases such as gonorrhea or syphilis.

Changes did not begin to occur in London’s tolerance for such vices until the early 19^th century, when street lights were installed (banishing the dark alleys) and the beginnings of the modern day police force began to patrol the streets and take their responsibilities seriously. By the Victorian era, prostitution had severely diminished as middle-class morality was enforced more stringently. Georgian debauchery had met its match in Queen Victoria.

Guest Emery Lee: Georgian Gambling

Linda Banche here. My guest today is Emery Lee and her lush, exciting Georgian historical romance, Fortune's Son. Prequel and sequel to her previous book, The Highest Stakes, Fortune's Son is set in the London world of high stakes gambling. Here she talks about the types of gambling popular in the Georgian era.

Leave a comment with your email address for a chance to win the copy of Fortune's Son which Sourcebooks has generously provided. Emery will select the winner. Check the comments to see who won, and how to contact me to claim your book. If I cannot contact the winner within a week of selection, I will award the book to an alternate. Note, Sourcebooks can mail to USA and Canada addresses only.

And the winner Emery selected is christinebails! Congratulations, Christine, and thanks to all who came over.

Welcome Emery!

Emery Lee:

Gambling in all its various forms, from horseraces to cockfights, to cards and dice, and spinning wheels, reached a zenith of popularity in the Georgian age; but wherever large sums of money are staked, there are always those who prey on the unwary. In FORTUNE’S SON, Lady Susannah Messingham secretly believes the green tables are the answer to her financial woes and uses all her feminine wiles to persuade Philip Drake to teach her. In the following excerpt her extremely reluctant pedagogue endeavors in vain to open her eyes to the dangers.

(Excerpt from FORTUNE’S SON Chapter Six)

Are you not a professional gamester?” Lady Messingham asked.
Philip looked uncomfortable. “The question is not so easily answered. I don’t deny taking my living from the green tables but I assure you that I endeavor to maintain… certain standards… in my play.”
“Do you indeed?” Her half-smile bespoke disbelief.
“First of all, I endeavor never to sit down with a lady, or even with a man who has already over-imbibed. I find no allure in taking from those so disadvantaged.”
“So you deny that you win by cheating?”
He flushed. “’Tis such an unpalatable word, cheating, associated with swindlers, cutthroats, and highwaymen. By my troth, my lady, I have never marked a card, or rolled weighted dice. These are the trademarks of a cheat. I would merely say that I play with enhanced skill. I do not seek out victims to dupe, nor do I play intentionally to ruin any man. If, however, one has not the sense to know when to leave the tables, he deserves what he gets.”
“Are you not still a sharp, Philip?”
He paused to consider, “No. I do not say so. Not in the truest sense of the word. Besides, the term hardly encompasses the entire world of professional gamesters.”
“You speak almost as if it were a society in itself.”
“It is precisely that. Simply put, there are many types of players; varying degrees of Athenians, Captain Sharps, Amazons, blacklegs, tricksters, bamboozlers, and outright swindlers, inhabiting both the upper and the lower classes of society.”
“I have heard of the Greeks, but I don’t understand why the brethren of our much-venerated Aristotle are so vilified.”
“Ah,” Philip answered, “’tis a story that goes back to the days of Louis XIV, when a certain chevalier, A Greek named Apoulos, was admitted into the court. He was astonishingly adept at play and won a veritable fortune from the princes of the blood before his true methods were revealed.”
“What happened to him?”
“The king was much displeased and sentenced him to twenty years in the galleys. A true Greek tragedy,” he quipped.
“Thus, all players of his stamp are called Greeks?”
“Nay, only the select few. It is the name reserved for only those who play with great mastery. The Greek of the ton is by far the subtlest, most adroit, and the cleverest of creatures. He is accustomed to the best of company, and his deportment and manners are all that can be desired. He is capable of the most challenging conjuring feats—the partial shuffle, the false cut, the shift-pass, mucking, palming, pegging, and culling. No one surpasses his skill in drawing the ace, or breaking the cut, concealing cards or placing them. He raises the practice to an art.”
By now, Lady Messingham hung in rapt attention upon his every word.
“He is a master who lives for naught but the game, playing each one with unparalleled skill and equal perfection, yet plays only for others’ ultimate destruction. Attempts to hide emotion from him are in vain. He discerns the least movement or contraction of the features, peering with uncanny ability into his adversary’s very soul…”
“Lackaday! It sounds as if you describe Beelzebub, himself!”
“He is not far removed!” Philip laughed. “True vice, my lady, would frighten us all, if it did not wear the mask of virtue.”
“If that is so how does one evade a fate as his victim?”
“One can easily do so by avoiding deep play,” Philip answered “Since he is a master who only delights in high stakes, steer clear of his table, and you’ll never fall victim.”
“Do you not count yourself among those who are ‘equal in his talents’?” she asked.
“Not I, madam!” Philip barked. “I’d never make such a boast.” He paused with a thoughtful frown. “Nay, I do not endeavor to make my fortune so. I do not live for the play as others do.” His voice grew pensive. “I still have hope of something better.”
He met her quizzical look without further elaboration, and abruptly shifted back to their prior topic. “You have yet to learn of the wandering Greek—” He flashed a grin, breaking the solemn mood.
“Not to be confused with the wandering Jew?” she quipped back.
He laughed. “Indeed not. Although this manner of sharper does travel from place to place. He frequents the taverns, public assemblies, and pleasure gardens, seeking out the young and unwary, but rarely working alone.”
“He has an accomplice?”
“Yes, he employs a decoy, often an Amazon.”
“An Amazon? A woman? So there are, after all you said, women who are successful gamesters?” she remarked thoughtfully.
“I have never encountered one who does not act in conspiracy with a man. Her role is more to play the shepherdess to lure the hapless sheep to the wolf. Yet this is not even the worst type of sharp.”
Philip’s voice now took on a harsh, gritty quality. “The lowest sort of creature is the varlet who frequents the public gaming hells, and the low drinking dens. They are naught but evil wretches, wrought out of idleness and debauchery. After plying a victim with strong drink, their ‘games,’ involving any manner of trick or treachery, begin.”
“You speak as if you have fallen victim.”
“I was very young… and a fool. I am lucky to have escaped with my life.
She stared at him, stunned even more by what his words had not said than by what he had revealed.
Have I now opened your eyes?” he asked softly. “Or are you still bent on this inane gaming scheme?”
“It is only harmless diversion,” she lied. “It’s not as if I intend to make my living at the tables.” (end excerpt)

FORTUNE'S SON BY EMERY LEE
Philip Drake, an impoverished but titled gentleman, is forced to liquidate his assets and go back to his past gaming habits in an effort to right himself. Lady Susannah Messingham is a woman with a past and nearly ten years Philip's senior. After watching him at the tables, she propositions him to teach her to win at gaming. This fascinating and original look at an uncharted aspect of English life explores a gentleman snared by gambling, the threat of debtor's prison, and the wayward lady who redeems him.

About the Author
Emery Lee is a life-long equestrienne, a history buff, and a born romantic. A member of Romance Writers of America, she lives with her husband, sons, and two horses in upstate South Carolina. She is a self-professed “Georgian Junkie,” and is also the moderator for Goodreads Romantic Historical Fiction Lovers. Her first book is The Highest Stakes, which is the prequel to Fortune's Son.
http://authoremerylee.com
http://georgianjunkie.wordpress.com