Julia Winter's Blog, page 2
June 28, 2021
Mourning Becomes Elizabeth
It is probably a fatal sin to have your first P&P variation begin with Elizabeth as a widow. Not Mr Darcy’s widow, of course—that sin may be unforgiveable. But this Elizabeth isn’t the carefree Lizzy Bennet of the original. She is a widow with a past, with current responsibilities, and, in her own mind, no clear future.
To give you an indication of Elizabeth’s marriage before her widowhood, let me start with the Mistress of Netherfield’s opening lines:
It is a truth universally acknowledged that on escaping an unhappy marriage, a young widow will be delighted to remove to the dower house and lease the marital abode to a single man in possession of a good fortune, provided he looks elsewhere to fulfil his want of a wife.
From which you may gather that the widow’s past was not a happy one. Despite this, Elizabeth would spend the first months of her widowhood in mourning. No matter what her feelings were about her dead husband (and relief probably figured in there somewhere), society required she show his memory respect by donning black clothing and secluding herself.
Most of what we think we know about 19th century mourning customs are really those of the later high Victorian period, when, following Queen Victoria’s example after the death of Prince Albert, mourning became almost a life-long vocation. It certainly was for Victoria. By that time, mourning periods were set in stone: a widow wore deepest mourning (that is unrelieved black clothing in dulled, matte fabrics such as crepe or bombazine) for two years, before going into the muted greys and lavenders of ‘half-mourning’. Men, of course, got off more lightly by wearing black gloves and cravats, but then by the Victorian Age, men’s clothes were already so dark and dull, black gloves might even be considered an exciting sartorial change.
But in the Regency period, mourning was far less prescribed. Widows still tended to remain in a state of mourning for a longish time—up to a year was expected. In the cases where property was involved, the reason for such a long mourning period was because any posthumous child she bore in that time would be decreed by law to be her husband’s, and therefore deemed to be an heir. During that period she could still see her friends and family at quiet, private gatherings and attend church, but she wouldn’t be going to dinners and balls. After 18 months to 2 years, she would likely resume a livelier social life.
Regency fashion plates, such as those from Ackermann’s Repository, include some quite elaborate mourning gowns. Take a look at flounces and furbelows on these:
But unless the family was rich, buying elaborate mourning dresses was a most unlikely extravagance. Most people made do by dyeing existing clothing black, and removing all ornamentation from hats to retrim them with black ribbons and crepe. Jane Austen’s letters to her sister Cassandra several times mention the arrangements they are making to go into mourning. In one, their mother is described as having “…picked her old silk pelisse to pieces, and means to have it dyed black for a gown…” Such thrift was not unusual.
In Mistress of Netherfield, James Grayson had been persuaded (cough! You’ll have to read the relevant chapter to discover the moral pressure put upon him) to leave his unentailed property—that is, Netherfield—in trust to his very young widow, who would have full control over the property when she came of age. Mr Bennet and Mr Philips being the principal trustees, Elizabeth was probably a great deal better off than most young widows in the Meryton area. I like to think that she had one specially-made dress, even if, like most young women, she did dye other dresses while she went through her enforced isolation from society.
I can’t imagine Elizabeth being quite as demure as this young widow, and she will certainly protest at the imposition of a widow’s cap, but I think I’ll allow her a dress this pretty and becoming. It’s rather better than the flounces and furbelows of most of the Ackermann fashion plates, and closer, I suspect, to Elizabeth’s restrained style.
Mistress of Netherfield is published TODAY, 28 June, and is available from an ebook seller near you. Find the bookseller of choice from this link: https://books2read.com/MistressOfNetherfield
PUBLICATION DAY!!!
http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collectionMistress of Netherfield is published TODAY!
About the bookIt is a truth universally acknowledged that on escaping an unhappy marriage, a young widow will be delighted to remove to the dower house and lease the marital abode to a single man in possession of a good fortune, provided he looks elsewhere to fulfil his want of a wife.
Five years after being forced into an unwanted marriage at the age of sixteen, and freed six months later by the death of her abusive husband, Elizabeth Grayson (née Bennet) has finally found a measure of peace. The inheritor of her husband’s estate, Netherfield Park, Elizabeth is now a wealthy young widow, independent and self-reliant. With an eye always on improving her four sisters’ woefully small dowries and providing for her mother, who will be homeless when her father dies, Elizabeth is pleased to lease out Netherfield to the Bingley family, making her home in the dower house in Meryton and vowing that she will never remarry.
Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire is rich and well connected, but reserved in company with anybody outside the very few he counts as friends. Towards those friends, he is loyal and steadfast, the staunchest of supporters. So when a young man comes to him with a tale of the clandestine marriage and mysterious death of Darcy’s old schoolfriend, James Grayson, and begs Darcy’s help to investigate the widow’s role, Darcy agrees. Visiting Charles Bingley, the new tenant of Netherfield, Darcy is very soon torn between his loyalty to his dead friend, and his burgeoning attraction to the widow.
Throw two unprincipled rogues and an elopement into the confines of Meryton, and how will Darcy’s dilemma over Elizabeth ever be resolved? And is she willing to put aside her misgivings, and trust again?
(British English spelling and grammar used throughout).
Where to find Mistress of NetherfieldAt Goodreads
Universal link to digital stores: https://books2read.com/
Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Kobo | B&N | Smashwords
Blog Tour StopsNine wonderful Austen bloggers have agreed to host me to help get the word out about Mistress. Here’s the schedule:
Find me at:
May 27, 2021
Blog Tour Dates Arranged
Mistress of Netherfield will be published on 28 June.
Nine wonderful JA bloggers are hosting me on a release burst tour:
April 14, 2021
Cover Reveal – of sorts!
If you’re going to start blogging, go big. Here’s the probable cover for Mistress of Netherfield. I have no publication date yet, but end May/early June is the most likely.
The detail is from a portrait of Madame Philippe Panon Desbassayns de Richemont (Jeanne Eglé Mourgue, 1778–1855), painted by Marie Guillelmine Benoist in 1802.
The painting is in The Met Fifth Avenue, in Gallery 614, and is available in the public domain for unrestricted use (I’ve cut the detail from the main image and flipped it horizontally). God bless The Met for its generosity!
The Met says: Once attributed to David, this portrait is actually by his pupil, Marie Guillelmine Benoist. David taught a significant number of women artists whose works were made newly visible to the public through the Salon, which prior to the French Revolution had severely restricted submissions by women. This portrait of Jeanne Eglé Fulcrande Catherine Mourgue, called Égle, and her son was probably shown at the Salon of 1802. The sitter’s husband, Philippe Panon Desbassayns de Richemont (1774–1840) enjoyed a successful administrative and diplomatic career under the Consulat, Empire, and Restoration governments.
Sad, isn’t it, that the only information is about the husband, rather than Jeanne herself?
While this image is a little early – like most authors of Pride and Prejudice variations, I’ve set it in 1811/1812) – since I’m just using Jeanne’s head, she makes a perfect Lizzy. Frankly, I’m almost as much in love with this portrait as I am with Lizzy herself.
