My Cousin Jane

White soup and Turns about the Room

How exactly does one make a white soup for a Regency Ball? What’s negus and why was it added to soup? Did one drink it, or eat it, or both? Find out the answers to these questions and more, in this episode of My Cousin Jane.

Audio

Show Notes

Note: Some of the links on this page may be affiliate links. This means that every time you click on one and then buy something, I get paid billions of pounds by a secret organization trying to bring back the Regency period…or I get a few fractions of a cent from a company like Amazon, one or the other.

Books referenced in this episode

Transcript

Note: Transcripts on this site are the scripts I used when preparing to record the show. They may or may not be a 100% faithful representation of the final recording. Audio clips of Pride & Prejudice come from Karen Savage’s narration of Pride & Prejudice, courtesy of LibriVox.org.

Welcome to My Cousin Jane, a podcast about Jane Austen and her works. With your host, Lee Falin. Season 2 – episode 11.

Welcome back to another episode of My Cousin Jane. Each week, we look at what you might think of as the behind the scenes featurettes or deleted scenes of a particular chapter in Austen’s books.

This week, we’re going to talk about Pride & Prejudice Chapter 11.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to see it continue, please consider supporting us by going to MyCousinJane.com, signing up for our newsletter, or clicking on the little donate button.

Chapter Summary

In chapter 11 Jane is feeling well enough to join Elizabeth and the Netherfield gang in the drawing room. After making sure Jane is warm enough, they start discussing Charles’ idea of having a ball at Netherfield, and the rest of the evening is spent in a playful banter. Playful at least on Elizabeth’s part.

White Soup

Let’s jump in to this banter at the point where Caroline asks her brother about the ball. And as always, our audio clips come courtesy of Karen Savage and Librivox.org:

“By the bye Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards.”

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 11

There are a lot of interesting things to discuss about Regency balls. We talked about some of them in previous episodes, and we’ll talk about a bunch more in the future. But today I want to talk about white soup.

If you search for white soup recipes, you’ll find a lot of “Regency inspired” white soup recipes. One thing you’ll notice about them is that they are all quite different.

That’s because even during the Regency era, there were a lot of ways to make white soup. There were really fancy versions made by the aristocracy (or rather, by their servants), as well as many versions of what we might think of as “more economic” white soup.

If you ask someone why “white soup” is called “white”, you’ll hear a lot of different explanations. Some people claim that it was always made without red meat, but this wasn’t even true in Regency times. Others claim that it’s because of the ground almonds, or cream, or some other ingredient.

The fact is that it’s impossible to say definitively, because you can easily find variations on this recipe that go back to the early 1600s, and many historians believe the recipe originates in the Middle Ages.

There’s also some disagreement about how white soup was usually served at Regency balls. Some writers portray it as a traditional soup, which you would sit down at a table and eat from a bowl. While others convey the impression that it was served more like a warm punch.

The only thing that can be said conclusively about white soup is that it usually “looked white” and could be made lots of different ways.

If you want to know the kind of white soup Jane Austen ate at home, you can grab a copy of Martha Lloyd’s Household Book, a collection of handwritten recipes and medicinal remedies from Jane Austen’s friend / housekeeper, Martha Lloyd.

Finding themselves very firmly in the more “economic” side of society, the white soup prepared by the Austen family was relatively simple:

Make a gravy of any kind of meat, add to it the yolks of four eggs boiled hard and pounded very fine, 2 oz. of sweet almonds pounded, as much cream as will make it a good colour.

Martha Lloyd’s Household Book

But for a more refined recipe, we can turn to the most popular cookbook of the early 19th century, A New System of Domestic Cookery by Maria Rundell. Though this book was first published in 1806, its recipes were in wide use before that time.

Take a scrag of mutton, a knuckle of veal, after cutting off as much meat as will make collops, two or three shank bones of mutton nicely cleaned and a quarter of a pound of very fine undrest lean gammon of bacon: with a bunch of sweet herbs, a piece of lemon-peel, two or three onions, three blades of mace and a desert spoonful of white pepper; boil all in three quarts of water till the meat falls quite to pieces. Next day take off the fat, clear the jelly from the sediment, and put it in a saucepan of the nicest tin. If macaroni is used it should be added soon enough to get perfectly tender, after soaking in cold water. Vermicelli may be added after the thickening, as it requires less time to do.

Have ready the thickening which is to be made as follows: Blanch a quarter of a pound of sweet almonds, and beat them to a paste in a marble mortar, with a spoonful of water to prevent their oiling; mince a large slice of drest veal or chicken and beat it with a piece of stale white bread; add all this to a pint of thick cream, a bit of fresh lemon-peel and a blade of mace, in the finest powder. Boil it a few minutes; add to it a pint of soup, and strain and pulp it through a coarse sieve; this thickening is then fit for putting it to the rest, which should boil for an hour afterwards.

A New System of Domestic Cookery by Maria Rundell

So, clearly the second version is much more involved. Not only does it require more expensive ingredients, (such as veal or mutton rather than “any meat”, more expensive spices, and almonds), the recipe is also much more labor intensive, and requires at least two days to make up a batch.

The funny thing about serving white soup at balls in Regency times was that most people probably wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between soup made with a fancy recipe compared with a more economical one, because white soup at balls was almost always spiked with negus.

Negus is a type of mulled win, a mixture of port wine, citrus, sugar, and sometimes spices such as nutmeg. The main difference between Regency negus and modern mulled wine is negus was mixed with hot water.

Negus has a very interesting history, and became very popular in the early 1700s. It’s mentioned in the works of a variety of Regency and Victorian writers, including Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Emily and Charlotte Brontë, William Thackeray, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

This definitely gives more weight to the “served as a warm punch” interpretation, especially when you consider Fanny Price’s reflections at the end of her first ball in Mansfield Park:

creeping slowly up the principal staircase, pursued by the ceaseless country-dance, feverish with hopes and fears, soup and negus, sore-footed and fatigued, restless and agitated, yet feeling, in spite of everything, that a ball was indeed delightful.

Mansfield Park, Chapter 28

Turn about the room

Speaking of rooms and dancing, here’s one more interesting clip from chapter 11:

Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards got up and walked about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more; and, turning to Elizabeth, said,—

“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley succeeded no less in the real object of her civility: Mr. Darcy looked up.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 11

The phrase “take a turn about the room” is such an interesting phrase and it’s a phrase that is so often quoted by people familiar with Pride & Prejudice, that I wondered where it first originated.

The earliest use of it I could find in English was in 1687, in a pamphlet by Roger L’Estrange, whom you might know as the man who first translated Aesops fables into English, though he had a rather interesting political career prior to that, and translated many other important classical texts.

But according to Google’s Ngram graphs of the English language, while you do see the phrase appear in a few places in the 1700 and 1800s, the phrase wasn’t really that popular in English writing until around the year 2005, when its usage rockets up exponentially.

I can only assume this is due to the use of this line in the 2005 film adaptation of Pride and Prejudice.

Conclusion

That wraps up episode 11 of season 2 of My Cousin Jane.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to help us out, please consider supporting us by heading over to MyCousinJane.com and clicking on the little donate button.

Either way, thanks so much for listening.

Playing Piquet and Mending Pens

Is Piquet more fun than Loo? Did Mr. Darcy really mend his own pens? Why did he need to and how did he do it? Find out the answers to these questions and more, in this episode of My Cousin Jane.

Audio

Show Notes

Note: Some of the links on this page may be affiliate links. This means that every time you click on one and then buy something, I get paid billions of pounds by a secret organization trying to bring back the Regency period…or I get a few fractions of a cent from a company like Amazon, one or the other.

Books referenced in this episode

Transcript

Note: Transcripts on this site are the scripts I used when preparing to record the show. They may or may not be a 100% faithful representation of the final recording. Audio clips of Pride & Prejudice come from Karen Savage’s narration of Pride & Prejudice, courtesy of LibriVox.org.

Welcome to My Cousin Jane, a podcast about Jane Austen and her works. With your host, Lee Falin. Season 2 – episode 10.

Welcome back to another episode of My Cousin Jane. Each week, we look at what you might think of as the behind the scenes featurettes or deleted scenes of a particular chapter in Austen’s books.

This week, we’re going to talk about Pride & Prejudice Chapter 10.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to see it continue, please consider supporting us by going to MyCousinJane.com, signing up for our newsletter, or clicking on the little donate button.

Chapter Summary

Chapter 10 is one of my favorite chapters in Pride & Prejudice.

The banter between Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, as well as the attempts on Caroline Bingley’s part to simultaneously disparage Elizabeth and use her to get Mr. Darcy’s attention, are all great examples of Jane Austen’s ability to use smart dialogue and social wit to tell an entertaining story.

Piquet

This week we have yet another Regency card game introduced to us. Let’s listen to this clip courtesy of Karen Savage and Librivox.org:

Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The loo table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.

Price & Prejudice, Chapter 10

We’ve talked about commerce, Vingt-un, and loo, and this week we find our Netherfield friends playing piquet, which is a two-player trick-taking game.

If you don’t remember how trick-taking games work, go back and review episode 09 of this season, where we talk about the rules of the game of Loo.

Piquet is one of those games that seems really complicated at first, but once you start playing it, it seems really simple. But then once you understand what’s happening, you realize there’s more to it than you thought.

If you want the complete rules to this and many other fascinating historical games, I recommend you check out John McLeod’s popular historical card game reference site, pagat.com, but here’s a quick summary:

You start with a deck of 32 cards containing only the cards 7 through Ace. Each player is dealt twelve cards, which leaves eight in a draw pile.

Players take turns each round as the “Elder” and “Younger” hands. Each round has three phases: exchange, declaration, and trick taking. The elder hand goes first in each phase.

In the exchange phase, the elder hand can exchange up to five cards with the draw pile while the younger can exchange up to three.

In the second, or declaration phase, the elder hand “declares” their best plays in three different categories.

After each declaration, which is done without revealing any cards, the younger hand announces whether they can beat that play or not.

The younger hand then declares their best plays for any category where they announced a better play than the elder hand.

Points are then awarded according to how good each player’s declarations were.

After all the declarations are made, the elder hand leads the trick-taking phase of the round.

What makes piquet so interesting is that even though you never see your opponent’s cards until the trick taking round begins, if you’re paying close attention to what is declared during the declaration phase, you can almost always figure out what cards they have, which allows you to plan your strategy for the trick-taking portion.

It’s a fun game with a few different variations. I recommend you find a copy of the rules and play through it a couple of times with a friend. You can also find digital versions of the game online.

The game is also referred to as Le Cent, and appears under that name in the classic French story, Gargantua and Pantagruel, which we discussed back in Episode 06.

Mending Pens & Dancing Reels

Now, in case card games aren’t your thing, let’s turn our attention to letter writing, and Miss Caroline Bingley’s observations on what a great letter writer Mr. Darcy seems to be:

“You write uncommonly fast.”

“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”

“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”

“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.”

“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”

“I have already told her so once, by your desire.”

“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”

“Thank you—but I always mend my own.”

“How can you contrive to write so even?”

He was silent.

“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley’s.”

“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice.”

“Oh, it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”

“They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine.”

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 10

I just want to take a moment to discuss the idea of mending pens. According to an article written for the Jane Austen Society of North America by Robert Hurford, editor of Editor of Journal for the International Association of Master Penmen, Engrossers and Teachers of Handwriting, mending pens was something that most people preferred to do themselves, though there was difference between mending pens and cutting them into their initial shape.

Most people during the Regency era wrote with either a feature quill, or a graphite pencil. In this scene, Darcy would have been writing with a feather quill and ink.

Turning a feather into a quill was a relatively specialized task, and most people did not do this themselves. But, mending a pen—the feature quill equivalent of sharpening your pencil—was something that most people did prefer to do themselves. But before we talk about how to do it, let’s talk about why it was needed

There were two main kinds of ink in use during that time period, carbon black (made from mixing soot or lamp black with either gum or glue), and iron gall ink (made from soaking gall nuts from an oak tree in water, and then mixing in an iron salt). Both inks were typically sold in powdered form, and you would add water to them before use.

Since this ink is relatively wet, it would cause the tip of the quill to soften and deform as it was used. Most of the time, writers would have three or four quills at hand, and when one became too wet to use, they would switch to another until the wet one dried out.

You could make your tips last a little longer by writing on a softer surface, which is why many regency era writing desks, and the letter writing boxes that were placed on top of writing desks, had soft felt tops.

But mending a pen was relatively straight forward. Most people used a small knife, cleverly referred to as a “pen” knife, to sharpen and reshape the tip of the quill. Though again, you had to wait until the quill was dry before you could mend it.

One last note on this scene: most people during this time period learned to write using English Round Hand style, so we can assume that this is the style of writing Mr. Darcy was using.

If you want to explore the topic of regency handwriting in more detail, I recommend getting a copy of Barbara Heller’s special edition of Pride & Prejudice. Heller used the science of paleography—the study of historic handwriting, to recreate plausible handwriting styles for each of the letters in the novel based on the writer’s personalities and background.

Heller based much of her research on the study of Austen’s handwriting, as well as conversations with expert calligraphers.

Heller’s special edition of Pride & Prejudice includes nineteen hand folded letters with appropriate postmarks, which have been inserted into “pouches placed at just the right moments in the story.”

You can find a link to the book in our show notes on MyCousinJane.com.

Conclusion

That wraps up episode 10 of season 2 of My Cousin Jane.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to help us out, please consider supporting us by heading over to MyCousinJane.com and clicking on the little donate button.

Either way, thanks so much for listening.

Embarrassing boasts and the Game of Loo

Why is poetry the food of love? What’s so funny about four-and-twenty families? And how do you play Loo? Find out the answers to these questions and more, in this episode of My Cousin Jane.

Audio

Show Notes

Note: Some of the links on this page may be affiliate links. This means that every time you click on one and then buy something, I get paid billions of pounds by a secret organization trying to bring back the Regency period…or I get a few fractions of a cent from a company like Amazon, one or the other.

Books referenced in this episode

Transcript

Note: Transcripts on this site are the scripts I used when preparing to record the show. They may or may not be a 100% faithful representation of the final recording. Audio clips of Pride & Prejudice come from Karen Savage’s narration of Pride & Prejudice, courtesy of LibriVox.org.

Welcome to My Cousin Jane, a podcast about Jane Austen and her works. With your host, Lee Falin. Season 2 – episode 9.

Welcome back to another episode of My Cousin Jane. Each week, we look at what you might think of as the behind the scenes featurettes or deleted scenes of a particular chapter in Austen’s books.

This week, we’re going to talk about Pride & Prejudice Chapter 9.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to see it continue, please consider supporting us by going to MyCousinJane.com, signing up for our newsletter, or clicking on the little donate button.

Chapter Summary

Chapter 9 is a relatively short, but very cringeworthy chapter. Not because the writing is bad, but because it is such an accurate portrayal of a very awkward situation.

Elizabeth’s mother and younger sisters come to visit Netherfield to check on Jane. The conversation is more than a bit awkward for Elizabeth, who afterwards quickly retreats to check on Jane.

Dining

Let’s start with an excerpt from the chapter that includes a discussion of social dining in the country, courtesy of Karen Savage and Librivox.org:

“Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true.”

“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”

Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 9

The joke here is that four-and-twenty families, though a significant number to Mrs. Bennet, is in fact a rather embarrassing boast compared to what families in the highest social circles such as Darcy and the Bingleys are used to.

The Food of Love

Speaking of embarrassing boasts, here’s one about Jane:

“She seems a very pleasant young woman,” said Bingley.

“Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her, that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.”

“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”

“I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said Darcy.

“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

Price & Prejudice, Chapter 9

Darcy’s comment that “poetry is the food of love” is a reference to a famous Shakespeare quote from Twelfth Night:

If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.

Twelfth Night, Act 1 Scene 1

Loo

As promised in the previous episode, we’re going to backtrack briefly one chapter and talk about the game of Loo. Here’s a clip from chapter 8 where Elizabeth encounters the game at Netherfield:

On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

I mentioned last time that according to David Parlett, author of A History of Card Games, Loo, also known as “Lanterloo”, is a trick-taking game similar to whist, which most scholars think originated in Holland.

While it was mostly played by the aristocracy in the late 1700s and early 1800s, by the late 1800s it was considered a hallmark of the rough tavern crowd and generally looked down upon.

Trick-Taking

Loo is a trick-tacking game. If you’ve never played a trick-taking game, most of them go something like this:

Whomever goes first plays a card, say the four of clubs. The next player has to “follow suit” by playing another club if they have one. If they don’t have one they can either play a trump card or a slough card.

A trump card is a card of a designated suit that beats all the other suits.

For example, if hearts are the trump suit, and the current high card in the trick is the ten of clubs, a player that doesn’t have clubs could play any heart card, which would be the new high card of the trick.

If a trump card is played, the only way for the next player to do better would be to play a higher card in the trump.

So imagine we have four players named Elizabeth, Jane, Bingley, and Darcy, and we say that hearts is the trump suit. Elizabeth goes first and plays a five of spades. Jane has a couple of hearts, but she also has a four of spades, so she must play that because you have to follow suit if you can. So Elizabeth is still winning.

Next Bingley, who doesn’t have any spades, plays a four of hearts. Since this is a card from the trump suit, he is now winning.
Finally, Darcy has neither a spade nor a heart, so he can play a slough card (sometimes called a discard) and plays a two of clubs.

Bingley wins the trick.

Notice there are lots of phrases that come from this style of card game that you have probably heard used in other contexts, such as “playing the trump card”, “following suit”, and “missing a trick”.

Loo Rules

Now that you know how trick-taking works, here’s how Loo works. There are three card and five card variations of Loo, but I’ll explain the five card version.

At the start of the game, five chips are added to the pool by the dealer.
Each player is dealt five cards, then a card is flipped over to reveal the trump suit for that hand.

Each player looks at their hand and decides if they want to play or fold. If they play, they may exchange any number of their cards for new cards.

Then players proceed to try to win tricks as described above.
In five card Loo, there are five possible tricks to be won. For every trick you win, you get one-fifth of the pot.

If you go through a round without winning any tricks, you have been “looed” and you add five more chips to the pool.

There are some additional rules in five-card Loo that can affect play:

First, the jack of clubs is referred to as “Pam”, and trumps everything else in the game.

Second, after the dealing and exchanging of cards, if you have a flush, you can win the entire pool immediately. These are (in order of precedence) a “Pam” flush, which is the Jack of clubs, plus four other cards of the same suit; followed by a trump-flush (five cards of the trump suit); and then a regular flush (five cards of any other suit).

If the pool is won in this way, play begins again.

There are some additional variations on five-card loo, but the most significant is “Unlimited Loo”.

In “Unlimited Loo”, instead of adding five more chips, you have to add an amount equal to the current value of the pool. This version of loo can lead to extremely large amounts being won and lost in a short amount of time.

Conclusion

That wraps up episode 9 of season 2 of My Cousin Jane.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to help us out, please consider supporting us by heading over to MyCousinJane.com and clicking on the little donate button.

Either way, thanks so much for listening.

Ragout Dishes, Uncles in Cheapside, and Preferring Books Over Cards

What’s the difference between a plain dish and a ragout? What’s the deal with living near Cheapside? And why is it such a big deal that Elizabeth prefers a book over cards? Find out the answers to these questions and more, in this episode of My Cousin Jane.

Audio

Show Notes

Note: Some of the links on this page may be affiliate links. This means that every time you click on one and then buy something, I get paid billions of pounds by a secret organization trying to bring back the Regency period…or I get a few fractions of a cent from a company like Amazon, one or the other.

Books referenced in this episode

Transcript

Note: Transcripts on this site are the scripts I used when preparing to record the show. They may or may not be a 100% faithful representation of the final recording. Audio clips of Pride & Prejudice come from Karen Savage’s narration of Pride & Prejudice, courtesy of LibriVox.org.

Welcome to My Cousin Jane, a podcast about Jane Austen and her works. With your host, Lee Falin. Season 2 – episode 8.

Welcome back to another episode of My Cousin Jane. Each week, we look at what you might think of as the behind the scenes featurettes or deleted scenes of a particular chapter in Austen’s books.

This week, we’re going to talk about Pride & Prejudice Chapter 8.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to see it continue, please consider supporting us by going to MyCousinJane.com, signing up for our newsletter, or clicking on the little donate button.

Chapter Summary

Today’s episode will be a bit longer than normal, because there is a lot that happens in chapter 8. And this may be the closest to a controversial episode we get (unless we do an episode on the relative merits of Colin Firth vs Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Darcy).

I believe that the Netherfield chapters, chapters 8 through 12, are some of the most important in the novel, second only to the chapters where Elizabeth visits Rosings later in the book.

In this chapter, we have Jane and Elizabeth at Netherfield along with Mr. Bingley and his sisters; her sister’s husband, Mr. Hurst; and Mr. Darcy.

Most of the chapter is spent in mild banter about various topics ranging from Elizabeth and her family, to what it means to be truly accomplished. Elizabeth’s primary concern is Jane’s health, which by the end of the chapter is not improving.

Plain dish vs Ragout

Let’s begin with a mild exchange about food between Elizabeth and Mr. Hurst. As always, our audio clips come courtesy of Karen Savage and Librivox.org:

Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others.

She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

There is a lot of history behind this seeming innocent comment about plain dishes vs ragout. First, a ragout (or sometimes ragoo) is different than a ragú, which is an Italian dish.

Traditionally, British dinners were not very spicy. This was especially true of a classic Sunday staple, roast beef (typically served with roasted vegetables, Yorkshire pudding, and gravy).

However, in the late 1700s, French cuisine became extremely fashionable. So much so that a sign of wealth in the aristocracy was to employ French cooks. Mrs. Bennet comments about this later in the book when she supposes that Mr. Darcy must have at least two or three of them in his employ.

One of the trends in French cuisine was the Ragout . A method slow-cooking stewed meat and vegetables with a variety of spices and other additions, such as mushrooms, truffles, and oysters.

One of the most popular English cookbooks of the time, The Complete Housewife, has a recipe for how to “ragoo a breast of veal”:

In 1731, and English satirical writer and playwright name Henry Fielding wrote a song called “The Roast Beef of Old England”, that attributes English military prowess to the plain roast beef favored by Englishmen. It then laments that the ragouts of France are corrupting the country.

This song became so famous it was sung during the opening of new plays in England, and to this day the Royal Artillery and the Royal Navy play this song at dinners. Even the United States Marines Corps plays this tune during ceremonial Mess Dinners.

Here’s an excerpt of the song performed by Jerry Bryant and Starboard Mess:

So, Elizabeth, in preferring a plain dish to a ragout, is perhaps a nod to the fact that for many of the English, especially those with family in the Royal Navy like Austen, it was more than a matter of personal taste, it was a matter of patriotism.

Connections and Cheapside

Speaking of family connections, let’s listen to an excerpt of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst talking about those of the Bennet family:

“I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.”

“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.”

“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”

“That is capital,” added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.

“If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.”

“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,” replied Darcy.

To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend’s vulgar relations.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

Despite what you might infer from the name “Cheapside” and Miss Bingley’s reaction to it, Cheapside had nothing to do with slums or being “cheap”. The name comes from an old Anglo-Saxon word that means “market street”.

Charles Dickens wrote in 1879 about Cheapside, calling it “the greatest thoroughfare in the City of London”. It was a center of shopping and trade in the city of London.

As we know from other places in the novel, the Uncle referred to here, Mr. Gardiner, was a tradesman living on Gracechurch Street, which is about a ten minute walk from Cheapside. As a tradesman, living near Cheapside would be advantageous.

But the Bingley sisters (and Mr. Darcy) consider family who work as tradesmen (or attorneys) as a strike against the Bennets socially. Though again, the irony is that the Bingley fortune was in fact earned through trade just one or two generations prior.

Loo, Reading, and Family Libraries

Speaking of the work of generations, let’s now transition to a brief discussion of books, reading, and family libraries:

On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”

“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”

“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.”

Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others; all that his library afforded.

“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into.”

Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”

“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.”

“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.”

“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.”

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

First, just a brief mention about the game the group is playing when Elizabeth walks in. According to David Parlett, author of A History of Card Games, Loo, also known as “Lanterloo”, was a trick-taking game similar to whist, which for the sake of time, we’ll talk about in detail next week, and while there were several variations, there are two main ways to handle the betting:

In the first, sometimes called “Limited Loo”, the amount of money contributed to the pool during play was small and fixed. In the second, “Unlimited Loo”, the amounts increased as play went on, sometimes leading to astronomical wins and losses, and even ruined fortunes in some cases.

Elizabeth suspects they are “playing high”, and therefore likely playing “unlimited loo”, so she opts for a book instead.

Elizabeth choosing a book instead of cards is interesting as well because of the later comment that Miss Bingley makes and Elizabeth’s response to it.

“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”

“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”

“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

In the 1750s, a group calling themselves the Blue Stockings Society was formed by a group of women for the purpose of increasing the literary education of women.

Contrary to popular belief (if there is any popular belief about regency-era literary groups), it wasn’t an exclusive women’s club.

One of its purposes was the mutual dialogue on intellectual matters between men and women. And several prominent men became members, including Sir Edmund Burke.

There’s quite a bit of dispute about the origins of the name amongst historians, ranging from the colors of the socks worn by one or more of the club’s members, to a specific invitation given to an eccentric botanist to never mind if he couldn’t afford nice clothes when attending the meeting, but to just come in his blue worsted stockings instead.

Regardless of where the name came from, the group’s popularity slowly waned through the late 1700s, partially because by the early 1800’s, women had much better educational opportunities than they’d had previously.

One of the founders of the group, Elizabeth Montagu, felt specifically that it was better for women to meet and discuss literary matters rather than play at cards.

So it’s interesting that Elizabeth Bennet, sharing the same name as Elizabeth Montagu, also chooses a book over cards, and that Miss Bingley remarks on this.

Because even though a number of prominent women were supportive of the group, the term “blue-stocking” came to be a somewhat derogatory term that was applied to women that cared more about education and literature than about fashion.

You might remember Mrs. Gibson referring to Molly as a blue-stocking in Wives and Daughters, and Molly being quite embarrassed by this.

This puts Elizabeth’s response of deserving “neither such praise nor such censure” in an interesting light.

Accomplishments

Now let’s listen to one more clip about accomplishments:

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?”

“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.”

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

During the early 1800s, a woman named Hannah More was a prominent writer on education, morality and religion who had a lot to say on the education of women in particular. Many critics think that the contrast in the effects of the differences in education and upbringing between Fanny Price and the Bertram sisters was a not-so-subtle nod to More’s writings.

But even here in Pride and Prejudice we see it in how Miss Bingley and Elizabeth discuss female accomplishments. Miss Bingley’s list of traits possessed by a “truly accomplished” woman, is exactly what most upper class and upwardly mobile young women were being taught in the late 1700s.

More wrote about this type of education in her 1799 book Strictures on the Modern System of Female Education:

Not a few of the evils of the present day arise from a new and perverted application of terms; among these, perhaps, there is not one more abused, misunderstood, or misapplied, than the term accomplishments.

Strictures on the Modern System of Female Education, Hannah More

More goes on to write that the emphasis on the superfluous and ornamental skills taught to so many young women make them ill-suited to contribute meaningfully to society.

Though More was by no means what we would think of as a modern feminist, (a quick read of her writing will show you that), she did advocate that in marriage, women should be equal partners with their husbands rather than ornamentation:

…when a man of sense comes to marry, it is a companion whom he wants, and not an artist. It is not merely a creature who can paint, and play, and dress and dance; it is a being who can comfort and counsel him; one who can reason, and reflect, and feel, and judge, and act, and discourse, and discriminate; one who can assist him in his affairs, lighten his cares, sooth his sorrows, purify his joys, strengthen his principles, and educate his children.

Strictures on the Modern System of Female Education, Hannah More

Whether or not you agree with this prescription for domestic happiness, there’s no denying that it had a strong influence on society in the late 1700s and early 1800s, including on Jane Austen, and especially in her treatment of Mansfield Park.

While many modern interpretations of Austen’s works characterize her as a feminist, if she was, it’s important to weigh that in the light of what she herself would have considered feminism, particularly in relation to the views of her contemporaries like Elizabeth Montagu of the Blue Stockings society, and Hannah More.

One other note about Austen and More, is that the latter, in an attempt to further spread her teachings, wrote a novel called Coelebs in Search of a Wife, which tells the story of a man trying to find a wife that meets the high moral standards of his mother. It was a huge success at the time, primarily because it was seen as more of a religious work than a novel, which helped more conservative-minded people feel good about reading it and sharing it with their friends.

Unfortunately it wasn’t actually that great of a story, due mainly to the fact that Moore was trying very hard to drive home some specific points rather than write an entertaining story.

More herself wrote in the preface to the book:

I fear, the novel reader will reject it as dull

Coelebs in Search of a Wife

This turned out to be prophetic, because while we know that Jane Austen did like and agree with much of what More wrote, she did not care at all for Coelebs in Search of a Wife, mostly because of how dull and heavy-handed of a novel it was.

Her sister Cassandra wrote to her, telling her about the book and how much she liked it, but Jane simply replied:

My disinclination for it before was affected, but now it is real.

Jane Austen’s Letters

Conclusion

That wraps up episode 8 of season 2 of My Cousin Jane.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to help us out, please consider supporting us by heading over to MyCousinJane.com and clicking on the little donate button.

Either way, thanks so much for listening.

The Bennet’s Estate, Quartering Troops in Meryton, and Walking over Stiles

How much money did the Bennet’s have? What did it mean for the citizens of Meryton that the militia was being quartered there? And what would it have been like to walk from Longbourn to Netherfield? Find out the answers to these questions and more, in this episode of My Cousin Jane.

Audio

Show Notes

Note: Some of the links on this page may be affiliate links. This means that every time you click on one and then buy something, I get paid billions of pounds by a secret organization trying to bring back the Regency period…or I get a few fractions of a cent from a company like Amazon, one or the other.

Transcript

Note: Transcripts on this site are the scripts I used when preparing to record the show. They may or may not be a 100% faithful representation of the final recording. Audio clips of Pride & Prejudice come from Karen Savage’s narration of Pride & Prejudice, courtesy of LibriVox.org.

Welcome to My Cousin Jane, a podcast about Jane Austen and her works. With your host, Lee Falin. Season 2 – episode 7.

Welcome back to another episode of My Cousin Jane. Each week, we look at what you might think of as the behind the scenes featurettes or deleted scenes of a particular chapter in Austen’s books.

This week, we’re going to talk about Pride & Prejudice Chapter 7.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to see it continue, please consider supporting us by going to MyCousinJane.com, signing up for our newsletter, or clicking on the little donate button.

Chapter Summary

In Chapter 7 we learn a bit more about Mrs. Bennet’s family, which will be important throughout the rest of the novel.

Mrs. Bennet has one sister and one brother that we know of. Her father was an attorney in the small town of Meryton, which was just a mile from Longbourn.

Her sister married her father’s clerk, a man named Mr. Phillips, who took over as attorney when her father died. They are mentioned frequently in the novel as Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, or Aunt and Uncle Phillips.

Mrs. Bennet’s brother, Mr. Gardiner, is a tradesman living in London. We meet him and his wife later in the novel.

Aside from genealogical facts, there are a couple of other important things that take place in this chapter. First, we find out that a militia regiment is being quartered in Meryton.

Second, Jane is invited to spend the day at Netherfield with Bingley’s two sisters. Her mother sends her on horseback so she’ll be trapped there due to a forecasted rainstorm. Unfortunately, Jane is caught in the rain, catches cold, and is quite ill. Upon learning of this, Elizabeth heads off to Netherfield to help care for her sister.

Mr. Bennet’s Estate

At the start of the chapter, we’re given a brief look at the Bennet’s financial situation. Here’s a brief clip of that, courtesy of Karen Savage and Librivox.org:

Mr. Bennet’s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 7

We’ve talked many times about the uncertainty that comes with trying to compare Regency wealth and modern wealth.

Katherine Toran’s article “The Economics of Jane Austen’s World”, which we’ve referred to before, estimates that the Bennet’s annual income was somewhere between £197,000 and £3,000,000 a year; which is quite a range.

The one thing we can tell for sure is that Bingley’s income was over twice that of Mr. Bennet’s and Mr. Darcy’s was five times that much.
However much their income was, it needed to pay for the upkeep of his family of seven, the taxes and maintenance on the estate of Longbourn, and the salaries of all the servants.

It still seems like a relatively sizable income, but Austen’s remark that Mrs Bennet’s inheritance, “could but ill supply the deficiency of his.” leads me to believe that £2,000 a year was not in fact all that much for a family of that size.

It’s interesting to compare this with Austen’s own income growing up. I’ve seen varied estimates of the income of Jane’s father, the Reverend George Austen.

From what I’ve been able to find in published research, George Austen’s income came primarily from three sources: tithes earned as a member of the clergy, money earned selling produce on his farm, and money earned from running a private boarding house for boys while his daughters were away at school.

In an a brief biographical article on him, the Jane Austen Society states that he earned around £230 per year from tithes and offerings. At the end of the year £1800, Jane wrote to her sister Cassandra that her father had earned about £300 from the farm, and that she expected his combined income for the year to be around £600.

So, even though Mr. Bennet’s income is considered “deficient”, it’s more than twice the income of Austen’s father, and he had six sons and two daughters to raise.

Militia Quartering

Let’s turn our attention to the militia with our next clip about what’s happening in Meryton:

The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a milliner’s shop just over the way.

The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt.

At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 7

Often when people think about a British regiment being quartered in a town, they assume that soldiers are staying in the homes of the townspeople.

Quartering soldiers in private homes (sometimes known as billeting), was in fact extremely common in England until 1689. However, it was so universally hated, that following the Wars of the Three Kingdoms and the 1688 Glorious Revolution, a document was drawn up by parliament called the Petition of Right, which contained a list of grievances currently being suffered by the British people.

The list included the forcible quartering of soldiers in private homes without the owner’s consent. This document and the civil rights it outlined became the 1689 Bill of Rights and became part of English constitutional law.

Shortly after, a mutiny by some British infantrymen led to the passage of the first Mutiny Act. This act, which had to be renewed each year, established laws for governing military personnel, and included a provision stating that when needed, the standing army was to be quartered only in public houses, taverns, and inns. But not in private homes without the owner’s consent.

If you are familiar with American history, you might be confused by this, since the quartering of British troops was one of the complaints of American colonists.

In fact, the Declaration of Independence, written in 1776, explicitly calls out “quartering large bodies of armed troops among us” as one of the many grievances the colonists had with the king.

Contrary to popular belief, British law did not force North American colonists to quarter troops in their homes.

But, despite what the law stated, during the French and Indian War, British troops were still forcing private homeowners to quarter troops in their homes, even though this was explicitly forbidden by English law.
If you read the Declaration of Independence carefully, you’ll see that the reason colonists give for their complaint against the king is:

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation.

US Declaration of Independence

In other words, during the French and Indian War (from 1754 to 1763), British troops were being quartered in colonist’s home without their consent, which was against British constitutional law.

When the Quartering Act of 1765 was passed, this practice was ended, and soldiers were to be housed in inns, and public houses. But the act additionally stated that if sufficient room couldn’t be found in inns and public houses, quartering could be extended to include any establishment that sold food or alcohol, private barns, sheds, and other unused buildings. But still, not in private homes.

So for the sake of how we imagine things happening in Meryton, the troops would not be staying in private homes unless the owners invited them. Instead, their lodging, or billets, would be in local taverns, inns, and other public houses.

Walking around Longbourn

Finally, one last excerpt from this chapter about some relative distances:

Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.

“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.”“I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.”

“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the horses?”

“No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”

“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”

“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.

“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes.”

In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 7

We talked back in Season 1 about English footpaths and stiles, but to recap for our newer listeners (or those of you who may have forgotten), the UK has a very long history of what is known as “right to roam” laws, that make sure people are able to walk from one end of the countryside to the other, in a relatively unimpeded way.

Because of these laws, most farmer’s fields, country estates, and other bits of private property will often have public footpaths and sometimes even bridleways and byways.

The laws related to these paths have changed in various ways over the centuries, but the spirit of “the right to roam” has largely persisted.

Today it’s helped on quite a bit by the Rambler’s Association. If you go to their website and enter your post code, you’ll find a list of cross-country walks, information about those walks, and local meeting times if you don’t want to walk alone.

You can also purchase what are called Ordinance Survey maps which have footpaths clearly marked out.

The paths themselves are a mix of relatively new paths, older paths, and even ancient paths that are rich in history. You might find a footpath that used to be part of an Anglo Saxon trade route, or an ancient Roman road. There are even some prehistoric paths leading between townsites and sources of water, It’s all very fascinating.

Some footpaths will go through the middle of a field, but often they will go along the edge where a hedgerow has been established to serve as a fence.

If a landowner puts up a fence, hedgerow or wall around their property that intersects a footpath, the footpaths must still be publicly accessible. So a gate will often be put up to accommodate people. The gates come in various forms, depending on the age and area, (and disposition of the person who has to maintain the path), but they are usually designed to make it fairly easy for a person to get through, but difficult or impossible for livestock to cross.

Since the people traversing the footpaths can’t always be trusted to close gates behind them, things like self-closing kissing gates are often used. In other places, you may find a set of steps called a “stile”, either wood or stone, that go halfway up the fence or hedge, then another set on the opposite side leading down.

Someone using the footpath will climb up the closest set of steps, swing their leg over the fence onto the other set of steps, then climb down the other side.

So Elizabeth and her sisters probably walked on the road to the town of Meryton for the first mile, then Elizabeth spent some portion of the final two miles cutting across private fields via footpaths and stiles, thus arriving at Netherfield quite dirty.

Conclusion

That wraps up episode 7 of season 2 of My Cousin Jane.

As always, if you enjoy the show and would like to help us out, please consider supporting us by heading over to MyCousinJane.com and clicking on the little donate button.

Either way, thanks so much for listening.