Oh, dear. Are there any more depressing words in the English language? I
haven’t been in school for decades now, but contemplating the end of summer
vacation is still like fingernails on… well, you know. This year, returning
to school is fraught with even more anxieties and uncertainties than ever.
Let’s have a look at what this annual ordeal was like for Victorian
schoolchildren in England.

The Old Sunday School, Macclesfield, Cheshire, opened in 1814 after
outgrowing its previous building, and served as a school until 1973. It’s
now a museum. (photo by Mike in Macc)

Widespread education in England began in the 18th century with the advent
of Sunday schools, which—unlike today—weren’t necessarily focused on
catechism. Instead, they offered formal education to children who had to
work in farm fields, mines, and factories the other six days of the week.
Fees were paid either by the families themselves or more prosperous
benefactors.

A London school around 1850, with all the children, teachers, and staff
sharing a single large (and no doubt noisy!) room. Note how the youngest
children are being taught by older students.

A series of Education Acts in the 19th century established compulsory
education for children ages five to ten (later raised to 12). Children
whose families couldn’t afford private education at home or boarding school
went to local schools that charged a subscription fee (to recoup the cost
to build the school). The poorest children—orphans, or those whose families
could not afford even the smallest fees—could attend so-called “Ragged
Schools.” It was not until 1891 that free elementary education was
available to everyone. In addition to basic academic and religious lessons,
schools for the working class taught vocational skills like metalwork and
sewing, to prepare boys for a trade and girls for jobs as servants.

Students at Rugby School playing their eponymous game, 1859

After the age of 10, the sons of more prosperous families could attend
boarding schools, while their sisters were educated at home for most of the
era.

These well-to-do 1870s girls are studying with their mother or a governess
(I’m guessing Mum, from her dress and since the housemaid is consulting her
about something.)

Middle and upper-class households often employed a governess, especially to
teach their younger children. Governesses were typically the well-educated
daughters of prosperous families who may have fallen on hard times, and
their position in a household could be awkward. Of the same social class as
their employers, they were not quite family members, and not quite
servants, fitting comfortably into neither group.

The demand for governesses dropped off by the end of the century, as better
educational opportunities for girls arose. Both the students *and*
potential governesses benefited, as new schools also needed new teachers
and staff. Secondary school education (past the age of 10 or 12) became
more common, with “day schools” (or high schools) opening up to teach
middle class girls, and boarding schools offering more rigorous academic
instruction alongside the social graces. A college education for young
women was considered a novelty and a luxury for those who could afford it,
after which they were expected to settle down and marry (although some
students had other plans!). In contrast, the day schools prepared girls who
would have to work for professional careers. Even so, by the end of the
century, the vast majority of English girls received no formal secondary
education.

Girls at Durand Secondary School in London study science in a well-equipped
laboratory classroom, 1908

A typical secondary education included coursework in Classics (Latin and
Greek literature, history, and languages), French and German, the sciences
(chemistry, physics, and natural history, or biology), mathematics,
physical education, and optional classes in art, music, or technical skills
like bookkeeping and shorthand.

Girls in gym class (and bloomers!) at Charleston High School (Boston, MA),
1893

These lads are studying mechanical drawing at Hampton Institute (now
Hampton University) in Virginia, 1899

The English educational system was far-reaching. Here, soldiers’ children
attend a British Regimental School in India in the 1880s

While we have Victorian schools to thank (or blame) for our modern system
of compulsory education, we can also thank them for another blissful
concept: they invented summer vacation. So whether you’re picking up a
slate or logging into Zoom this fall, spare a thought for the generations
of schoolkids who’ve suffered just like you, with the end of the lazy days
of summer break.

The post #MyrtleMondays: Back to School appeared first on Elizabeth C. Bunce
.

Only 151 days until Christmas! What—you’re not thinking about Christmas
right now? The 98 degrees, 200% humidity,* and *melting squirrels* on your
deck aren’t putting you in the Christmas spirit? Well, bah, humbug! I’m all
about Victorian Christmas right now,** and by the end of this post, you
will be, too!

As I’ve talked about the last couple of weeks, much of modern middle-class
culture comes from the Victorian era, and Christmas is no exception! Many
of the elements we consider traditional must-haves in our yuletide
celebrations were born or evolved in the 19th century in England and
America—with a little nudge from Germany.
[image: Christmas Tree at Windsor Castle from Illustrated London News, 1848]

“Christmas Tree at Windsor Castle” from *Illustrated London News*, December
1848

This image of Queen Victoria, her German-born husband Prince Albert, and
their children celebrating Christmas in 1848 was many people’s first
glimpse of a Christmas tree. First published in *Illustrated London News *then
widely reprinted, it immediately popularized the Christmas tree and made
this German novelty seem quintessentially British. Victoria and Albert were
married in 1840, and by Christmas 1841, Albert had installed the Christmas
tree as a family tradition. That year, Victoria wrote in her diary of her
children’s “happy wonder at the German Christmas tree and its radiant
candles.” It did not take long to catch on in Prince Albert’s new country.

*Illustrated London News*, still going strong with Christmas in 1876. By
this point, the Christmas tree was well established. See how the Royal
Family has become the ordinary middle-class British family (complete with
servant watching adoringly from the sidelines)?

We see the same scene again, another thirty years later, with this London
family in 1908

Of course, traditions don’t spring up out of nowhere; they evolve from
other customs. Victorian folklorists were fascinated with tracing the
history of Christmas observances back to their ancient origins. As early as
1836, Scots-born poet and literary critic Thomas Kibble Hervey offered
readers *The Book of Christmas.* Hervey was looking back with a nostalgic
view of Old England, before Christmas’s Victorian renaissance, and speaks
of the “Extinction of the Ancient Festival; [its] Partial Revival; [and]
Summary of the Causes of its Final Decline.”

But sixty-five years later, William F. Dawson was able to capitalize on
decades of renewed enthusiasm for this most Victorian of holidays in 1902’s *Christmas:
Its Origins and Associations *and its prodigious subtitle:

I wish my Christmases had more Brave Deeds and Chivalric Feats

Dawson was fascinated both with early Christianity’s observance of the
Nativity, as well as pagan festivals believed to have been co-opted into
traditional Christmas celebrations.

Naturally, by mid-century, *Mrs. Beeton, our middle-class maven*, was full
of advice for the holiday, too:

What’s more Victorian Christmas than plum pudding? *Mrs. Beeton’s Book of
Household Management* included several recipes, like this kid-friendly
version with no alcohol.

She was especially enthusiastic about the turkey as the centerpiece for
Christmas dinner:

Of course, the figure perhaps most associated with Victorian Christmas is
Charles Dickens. *A Christmas Carol* was published in 1843, right when
Victorians were just beginning to embrace the yuletide spirit with new
zeal. Throughout the 19th century, as daily life became more
industrialized, globalized, commercialized, and modernized, people began to
romanticize what they saw as old-fashioned traditions (even if they were
brand-new). The Victorian era was fertile soil for a holiday reimagined
around hearth and home and ancient customs.

John Leech’s illustration for the frontispiece of the first edition of *A
Christmas Carol, *already showing all the Victorian merriment we’d expect

Dickens, already a master of sentimental prose, recognized this yearning.
And he was prescient, too. We still think of* A Christmas Carol* as that
most Christmassy of Christmas traditions, 177 years later.

Harold Copping’s 1922 painting of Bob Cratchitt and Tiny Tim graced the
cover of the copy of *A Christmas Carol* I bought in fifth grade (which was
*not* in 1922)

Are you ready for Christmas yet? Here are some more period images to get
you in the mood:

Pear’s Soap company produced an annual Christmas magazine full of
stories–including reprints of Dickens’s Christmas tales—and display-worthy
illustrations. This edition featuring Father Christmas (or Father Time) and
Baby New Year is from 1893

Confectioner Tom Smith was the inventor of the Christmas cracker, and the
company’s lavish annual Christmas catalogue was a precursor to the Sears
Wishbook of 20th century American fame | early 20th C.

Late 19th century Swedish New Year’s postcards sent to my great-great
grandparents, showing the influence of traditional Norse folklore (that
appears to be a Valkyrie sending good wishes)

There! Now don’t you wish it was snowing? So haul out your Christmas tree,
sing some carols, whip up a Christmas pudding, and have a happy Christmas
in July!

*slight hyperbole, Dear Reader

**For Top Secret Reasons, to be revealed in Due Time!

The post #MyrtleMondays: Christmas in July! appeared first on Elizabeth C.
Bunce.

Are you a fan of Words with Friends (or its low-tech forebear, Scrabble)?
Are you a Wordament Grandmaster (Level 193 and counting!), or as we knew it
in the 20th century, Boggle? Word-forming parlor games were a popular
pastime in the 19th century, too, and I have one to share with you today.

McLoughlin Brothers’ *Logomachy: Or War of Words* debuted at the 1874
Cincinnati Industrial Exposition, where it won a Highest Premium (or silver
medal) for best new parlor game.

1881 edition, with glorious Victorian advertising art

Our modern consumer culture was born in the Victorian era, and affordable
amusements like boxed card games abounded. Period catalogues from
McLoughlin Bros. are filled with scores of games, and editions of games, in
every price range.

*Circa 1895 McLoughlin Bros. trade catalogue, featuring a 50 cent edition
of Logomachy and other card games. Games came in several price tiers.*

The rules are similar to *the card game casino*, and would have been
familiar to players of the time. And they’re easy to pick up for modern
players, too! Cards are printed with individual letters of the alphabet
(and *charming illustrations*—my 1889 version has children in 18th century
costume), and the object is to collect as many cards as possible by forming
words. Unlike Scrabble, where you try to use as many letters from your hand
as you can, in Logomachy you can only use one at a time. The suspense comes
in declaring your intention to form a word, and racing your opponents to be
the first to finish, before one of them claims your word and all the
points. Uncommon letters like Q, Z, X, and J are Prize Cards, and
contribute to higher scores.

*A complete set from 1889, with cards, instruction manual, and imitation
leather box. *

Logomachy remained popular for decades. McLoughlin Bros. was acquired by
Milton Bradley in 1920, which continued to publish the game through the
1950s.

1922 ad for Logomachy, now marketed as a children’s game

Logomachy is a fun and fast-paced game for competitive word buffs. If you
don’t happen to have your own set, you could easily play with a set of
Scrabble tiles, or print your own letter cards. You’ll need 72 cards with
the following distribution of letters:

A comeback for Logomachy is long overdue! But until new versions are made,
sets can be found (in varying condition and sometimes missing parts) on the
antique and vintage market.

Challenge your friends to a war of words today!

The post #MyrtleMondays: Words with Friends–Victorian Style! appeared first
on Elizabeth C. Bunce.

*“We rode our bicycles to the courthouse. They were the most wondrously
modern conveyances, right down to the specialized attire they entailed.
…Pedaling past Swinburne traffic felt deliciously urgent and dangerous.”
—Premeditated Myrtle*

Summer 2020 is seeing a *surge in the popularity of bike riding*, thanks in
large part to coronavirus concerns, and efforts to find new ways to enjoy
the outdoors in a responsible, socially-distant way. The late 19th century
also saw a cycling boom, with the development of the modern bicycle. For my
heroine Myrtle Hardcastle, her bicycle is a key part of her crime-solving
equipment. And for many middle-class girls in the Victorian era, the
bicycle represented even more.

During the 19th century, two huge changes swept the globe: the twin forces
of industrialization and colonization. A direct consequence of these
developments was the emergence of a new sort of middle class of clerks,
businessmen, bankers, lawyers, bureaucrats, and civil servants.
College-educated men filled the offices of corporations and government on a
scale never seen before.

*A popular British bicycle of the 1880s-90s. £12 is about £1000 today, or
$1200*

As middle class jobs exploded, middle class incomes went up, and for the
first time, many families could survive on only a single income—the man’s.
Previously, middle-income families of shopkeepers, manufacturers,
tradespeople, merchants, and more would run businesses *together. *But in
the Victorian era, it became a mark of status—and, indeed, virtue—for a man
to make enough money to support his family and employ at least one servant.
Gender roles took on a strict division: women belonged in the domestic
sphere of home and family, and men belonged in the public world of business
and politics. Girls and women were expected to be the “angels of the home,”
to provide a soothing respite for their menfolk, away from the bustle of
worldly cares of running the empire.

This resulted in a vast population of affluent, well-educated women with
plenty of leisure time and disposable income. Middle class girls and women
began to question why *they* weren’t going off to college and pursuing
careers and voting and running the world. (Meanwhile, of course, working
class girls and women were too busy working their fingers to the bone to
worry about how to occupy their half-day off per week.)

Enter the bicycle. Variations on human-powered wheeled vehicles had been
around since the Renaissance, but it took the ingenuity and technology of
the 19th century to develop the bicycle as we know it today. It was an
immediate sensation among those who could afford it.

Early bicycles were expensive, so they appealed primarily to those with the
income and free time to appreciate them. But what the bicycle offered
middle class girls most was freedom.

For the first time in generations, young women could move through their
world independently, under their own power. They did not have to rely on a
coachman or a chaperone to get somewhere—the bicycle was, by design, a solo
vehicle. As American activist Frances Willard (*who learned to ride at age
53!*) put it, “I began to feel that myself plus the bicycle equaled myself
plus the world.”

1902 Sears ad for kids’ bikes. $10.75 is about $330 in today’s money.

Not surprisingly, there were naysayers. Doctors cautioned against the
effect such vigorous exercise might have on girls’ health, and some people
worried that the sight of girls on bicycles would prove dangerously
distracting for men. (Naturally, it did not occur to them that a better
solution for *that* problem was for the men look away, not for the girls to
stop riding.) But girls *didn’t* stop riding, and by the mid-1890s, it was
clear to everyone that they never would.

*Maria Ward’s 1896 manual on riding and maintenance*

*Bloomer suits for girls and young women, circa 1895*

There was one genuine obstacle to overcome, however, and that was that the
typical female attire of the day was impractical if not hazardous in this
new sport. Not to worry: the Victorian fashion industry was just as
inventive as all the others, and enthusiastically entered the market.
Cyclists could choose from all sorts of specialized garments, like the
puffy bloomers many of us are familiar with today, or *convertible skirts
for those not quite daring enough to sport pantaloons in public (many
designed and patented by women)*. Accessories abounded, including specially
designed shoes and boots, capes, and hats. And let us not forget that most
quintessential of Victorian women’s garments, the corset.

Bicycle manufacturers worked to make their products more affordable, and as
the cost of bicycles came down, even more girls and young women were
empowered to see where this new vehicle might lead them.

1895: Cyclists in Montana get a lesson on bicycle maintenance

Occasionally, young women might let the boys tag along, too. (Colorado, c.
1900)

These 1890s girls have bikes AND cameras! There’s nothing they can’t do….

Ride on!

The post #Myrtle Mondays: Victorian Girls on Bicycles! appeared first on Elizabeth
C. Bunce.

*Premeditated Myrtle* is coming your way, along with Cook’s famous
Stansberry Pie, October 6, but you can get a head start with this authentic
original recipe, below!

*Cook’s Christian name was Harriet Stansberry, although I’d never heard her
called anything but Cook. I was six years old before I even realized she
had another name. One of Father’s favorite dishes was something we called
Stansberry Pie, and I once suffered a week of botanical confusion trying to
classify the elusive stansberry, which did not appear in any field guide,
taxonomy, or recipe book that I could find. *

*…It turned out to be a tart containing apple, strawberry, and rhubarb. It
was rather good, particularly warm out of the oven, with cream.*

*
—Premeditated Myrtle*

As Myrtle discovers, Stansberry is not a fruit (unlike* marionberry*), but
an old English surname with origins from the Yorkshire place name
Stainsborough. (You might have run across the more common spelling of
Stansbury—which, sadly, has no pie.) Stansberry also happens to be my
mother-in-law’s maiden name (Hi, Judy!)… and for this Myrtle Mondays post,
I’m sharing a variation on a family pie recipe, adapted, refined, and
reverse-engineered from its fictional counterpart by my husband, C.J.

The magnificent Stansberry Pie, from page to table

Myrtle notes that the Stansberry Pie of *Premeditated Myrtle* is in fact a
tart—which generally means it only has a bottom crust. But what is the
point of that? In my considered opinion, fruit pie is a thinly-veiled
excuse for indulging in pie crust, so double up on that pastry!

…But first, let’s talk about pie. In particular, *Victorian* pies. Or, to
be precise, where the Victorians got their pie recipes. The undisputed 19th
century authority on all things cookery was *Mrs. Beeton’s Book of
Household Management* by Isabella Beeton, who was married to the publisher
of *The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine*. Released in 1861, it became
enormously popular, with new editions revised and updated well into the
20th century. It remains in print today! At 25, Beeton herself was an
inexperienced household manager and drew largely from other sources
including the magazine, but that did not stop her from serving up her
reassuring guidance to the rapidly-growing population of her fellow
middle-class housewives. Her most lasting contribution to cookery might be
standardizing the modern recipe format of listing the ingredients first,
followed by the instructions, even if some of her chapter titles seem odd
to a 21st century reader (“General Observations on Quadrupeds”).

In nearly 1200 pages, *Beeton’s* covers everything a modern 19th century
housewife needed to know, from how to manage servants, make antidotes for
common poisons, to… well, let’s just let the subtitle tell you:

Everything you need to know

Mrs. Beeton offers nearly three dozen recipes for pie, both savory (like
eel pie and, um, parrot pie) and sweet, such as the recipe for apple tart
below. You’ll see from her illustrations that Beeton did not necessarily
agree with the accepted bottom-crust-only definition of a tart, and for
that we must commend her. (Also, don’t apricot fritters sound delicious?)

Illustrations of Puddings & Pastries from* Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household
Management. The “fruit pudding” looks a bit vague…*

Enough history! Let’s get cooking.

The original recipe, forever enshrined on my refrigerator
Stansberry Pie

*Developed & Transcribed by C.J. Bunce*

“*a tart containing apple, strawberry, and rhubarb*”

This recipe is for a full pie (double crust) but it can be adapted to
single tarts if desired. Kids (with parents’ help) and kids of all ages,
give it a try and let us know what you think!

Ingredients

1 or 2 pie crusts (suggest traditional oil recipe below)

1 ¼ cup sugar

5 TBS flour

¼ tsp salt

Dash of orange rind*

½ tsp cinnamon**

¼ tsp nutmeg***

1 cup chopped rhubarb

1 cup sliced mixed apples (like Granny Smith or Jonathan mixed with Red
Delicious)

2 cups sliced strawberries

1 capful of lemon juice

1 TBS butter/oleomargarine

One discontented and uncooperative hob (oven)

1. Mix dry ingredients, sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.
2. Mix in fruit, rhubarb, apples, and strawberries.
3. Pour mix into bottom crust. Use second crust to make lattice top.
Dot on crisscrosses with butter cut into 1/3-inch cubes.
4. Bake at 375 degrees for 40 minutes with aluminum foil loose cover.
5. Remove foil and decrease to 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

* (more or less)

** (use a lot more)

*** (not more than that)

Look at all that fruit!

*Traditional Oil Crust*

2 ½ cups flour

1 tsp salt

2/3 cup olive oil

6 TBS ice cold water

Add oil to dry flour and salt, stir with fork, make two balls of dough,
refrigerate for 15 minutes. Roll or press out on oil-sprayed pie dish.
Bake 15 minutes at 350 degrees.

***

Top your finished pie with cream, whipped cream, ice cream, or
what-have-you (or nothing), and enjoy *while reading a great book*!
Mrs. Beeton’s Apple Tart

(with original spelling, punctuation, and formatting!)

*APPLE TART OR PIE*

1233. Ingredients.—-Puff-paste No. 1205 or 120G, apples; to every 1 1b.
of unpared apples allow 2 oz. of moist sugar, 1 teaspoonful of
finely-minced lemon-peel, 1 tablespoonful of lemon-juice.

Mode,—Make 1 lb. of puff-paste by either of the above-named recipes, place
a border of it round the edge of a pie-dish,’and fill it with apples pared,
cored, and cut into slices; sweeten with moist sugar, add the lemon-peel
and juice, and 2 or 3 tablespoonfuls of water ; cover with crust, cut it
evenly round close to the edge of the pie-dish, and bake in a hot oven from
1/2 to ¾ hour, or rather longer, should the pie be very large.

When it is three-parts done, take it out of the oven, put the white of an
egg on a plate, and, with the blade of a knife, whisk it to a froth ; brush
the pie over with this, then sprinkle upon it some sifted sugar, and then a
few drops of water. Put the pie back into the oven, and finish baking, and
be particularly careful that it does not catch or burn, which it is very
liable to do after the crust is iced. If made with a plain crust, the icing
may be omitted.

*Time.*—1/2 hour before the crust is iced; 10 to 15 minutes afterwards.

*Average cost 9d* (ninepence)

*Sufficient*.—Allow 2 lbs. of apples for a tart for 6 persons.

*Seasonable* from August to March ; but the apples become flavourless after
February.

*Note*.—Many things are suggested for the flavouring of apple pie ; some
say 2 or 3 tablespoonfuls of beer, others the same quantity of sherry,
which very much improve the taste ; whilst the old-fashioned addition of a
few cloves is, by many persons, preferred to anything else, as also a few
slices of quince.

(Mrs. Beeton kindly provided the following additional information on
quinces and their potential hazards.)

Let me know if you try either of these recipes!

Enjoy!

The post #MyrtleMondays: Stansberry Pie appeared first on Elizabeth C. Bunce
.