False Colours Group Read Feb 2020 Chapters 1-11

[Nick]

I have high hopes for Ambrose - all his bad behaviour is incentivised by his mother. Once he gets out of her clutches and into some better company I think he'll quickly grow out of sulks and headaches. If he made some good friends like Kit he'd soon be on the right path.

[Margaret]

I don't know ... presumably Ambrose had a chance to make friends at Oxford. If he did, they appear to have been the wrong kind of friends, and you can't really lay that at his mother's door, apart from the overall effects of her upbringing on his character.

[Nick]

Margaret wrote: "I don't know ... presumably Ambrose had a chance to make friends at Oxford. If he did, they appear to have been the wrong kind of friends."

Hmm, good point...

And when he was straining at the leash to get down to Brighton, it didn't seem like that was to do anything wholesome.

[Michaela]

I finished the 11th chapter today, and thought that Amabel was very careless with her money, as she well knew she had debts and couldn´t buy more unnecessary things, like (view spoiler)[the amber necklace that she didn´t like, but didn´t want to give back either. (hide spoiler)] She´s quite nice, but like a spoilt girl, always surrounded by admirers.

I don´t worry so much about the lie regarding the twins, as it´s a comedy and the stuff for comedies is often mistaken identity.

I wonder what has happened to Evelyn, and how it will all turn out in the end, as Kit seems to get nearer and nearer to revelations!

[Hana]

Nick wrote: "Carol She's So Novel꧁꧂ wrote: "I was thinking plum swirl (because I'll bet Bonamy has a plummy voice)" 😂😂😂

And some kind of expensive alcohol flavour, too! Can you have champagne ice-cream?"

"Something seasonal--perhaps early fraise du bois picked no more than ten minutes before being lightly crushed and folded lovingly with the finest Double Devon cream (always at its sweetest in the spring, you know!) and one must add just the lightest touch of Château d'Yquem Sauterne (perhaps the famed 1811 vintage--I tremble at the thought of disturbing my cellar stock so soon, yet how perfect it would be!) The creme simply must be chilled in snow, very gently--ice is far, far too rough, my dear! Sublime, I assure you! And perhaps the lightest of ratafia biscuits...I do believe the apricots will be ripening in the succession houses but if not then surely the pineapple...."

[Julie]

Hana wrote: "Nick wrote: "Carol She's So Novel꧁꧂ wrote: "I was thinking plum swirl (because I'll bet Bonamy has a plummy voice)" 😂😂😂

And some kind of expensive alcohol flavour, too! Can you have champagne ice-..."

Oh this is perfect....pure Heyer!! 😂😂

[Hana]

Jane wrote: " I try to ignore my modern ideas while reading these type books. Basically, I'm also just a "widgeon" and prefer to immerse myself in the fluff and fun of the story and not worry about all the other stuff...."

That's mostly my approach as well, Jane. End of book (view spoiler)[ And now that Bonamy (Baronet!) is The Bank for Lady D the formerly unpaid tradesmen will do very well indeed and so 'it all ends happy'! BTW I'm convinced Bonamy and Amabel will 'deal very well together' and will pamper each other with the greatest of delight and goodwill.

How could it be otherwise? The marriage of the 'lovable' one with the 'good friend'! (hide spoiler)]

[Jackie]

Hana, your post is wonderful! yes, ice would simply be too rough, LOL.

[Hana]

Michaela wrote: "I wonder what has happened to Evelyn, and how it will all turn out in the end, as Kit seems to get nearer and nearer to revelations!..."

One of my favorite things about this book is how well GH really builds the suspense!

[Igenlode]

QNPoohBear wrote: "It was the mark of a gentleman or lady NOT to pay tradesmen's bills. Gentlemen always paid their gambling debts if they could and put off the tradesmen"

The principle was that gambling debts were debts of honour - because you don't get anything in return and because they were, notoriously, not enforceable in law - and that failing to pay them was dishonorable. Failing to pay for tangible goods and services received was undesirable but wouldn't dishonour the debtor (provided the goods were, eventually, paid for - otherwise the creditors could theoretically take you to court and/or reclaim their property). But making a bet with someone involved implicitly pledging your word of honour to take the penalty on the spot if you lost, with no other security available.

Debts of honour were supposed to be cleared FIRST and as soon as possible (although I believe we see situations in Heyer where characters have left trails of IOUs around town over a long period).

Ordering a new hat from the milliner who hadn't yet been paid for the last one was actually a practical short-term expedient, but obviously a disastrous long-term one. It indicated that you were still an active customer with a live account and that you probably intended to pay in the future, as opposed to simply absconding or pretending the creditor didn't exist. Theoretically such a debt was an asset to its owner (modern companies operate on the same ingenious sleight of hand), since it represented an investment in a future income stream, and could be set down in the books as evidence that the business was thriving. Only when it became obvious that the debt would never be paid would it abruptly become a liability... and visibly wealthy individuals could live on presumed credit for a long time, since the perception was that they obviously had the means to pay their bills as soon as they could get round to it. Becky Sharp makes full use of this, operating a lifestyle in which she and her husband appear rich enough to obtain everything on account up front, never pay anything at all, and eventually when their credit runs out make a flit to another country.

I suspect that in the case of Lady Denville's hats, the actual cost of production was low enough and the free advertising gained by having them worn by an illustrious client was great enough that the milliner was probably not all that much out of pocket; the unpaid provision-merchant would be in worse case.

[Nick]

Igenlode wrote: "I suspect that in the case of Lady Denville's hats, the actual cost of production was low enough and the free advertising gained by having them worn by an illustrious client was great enough that the milliner was probably not all that much out of pocket."

Does anyone have any idea what the profit margin was on a regency ladies hat?

I remember reading a blog post about clothes-making in the past which said that we simply can't comprehend how expensive clothes were compared to nowadays. The essay was about a medieval shirt, and how peasants might have one shirt for their whole lives that would be passed down to their sons, because growing by hand, spinning, weaving, sewing was literally thousands of hours of work.

But then, regency hats in period drama are always made of straw - so perhaps they were cheap to construct and the worth was all in the style!

[Igenlode]

Nick wrote: "But then, regency hats in period drama are always made of straw - so perhaps they were cheap to construct and the worth was all in the style!"
Well, if it had an ostrich feather in it, that would have cost something to import for a start...
I think there's a comment somewhere - possibly in " The Convenient Marriage" - where a husband exclaims about the price of a hat compared to the extreme flimsiness of its constituent parts?

One thing that intrigued me about the beginning of this book was the candle/lamp question!
When Kit comes in, he finds a lamp left burning low and a candle beside it for Evelyn to use to light his way to bed; I assumed the logic behind that was that the lamp was a big heavy one that couldn't be carried around. But the house evidently was illuminated by at least some lamps, with candles for portability.
But then when Kit enters his mother's room, he lights a many-branched candleabra on her dressing table, and it's implied that there are several in the room (but presumably no oil lamps). They also talk about how much money is being spent on candles, which implies that the house is being lit almost exclusively with candles.
And then when they get down into the country (where one would expect things, if anything, to be more oldfashioned), Lady Denville brings a whole load of (expensive) spermaceti oil along with her other household provisions, and the servants have their noses put out of joint because, we're told, they already have a plentiful supply of perfectly good cheap lamp oil laid in. So are they using lamps rather than candles down there?

My best guess would be that perhaps oil lamps (and their potential associated smells, especially when using cheap oil) were reserved for the servants' quarters, and that for family use and entertaining beeswax candles were regarded as more refined, even if that meant filling the rooms with vast numbers of them. After all, you need candles to light a chandelier...

[Karlyne]

Nick wrote: "Igenlode wrote: "I suspect that in the case of Lady Denville's hats, the actual cost of production was low enough and the free advertising gained by having them worn by an illustrious client was gr..."

I watched a bit of Antiques Roadshow the other day, and a woman brought in a Civil War uniform which had hardly used trousers with it (the soldier had died at home just a few weeks after being sent back because of illness). What was interesting was the way the expert showed the differences in the hand-woven cloth of the shirt, vest, and trousers. All I could think of was how immensely hard it had to have been to grow the cotton and the wool, spin it by hand, weave it by hand and then finally sew it together - by hand. The reason this outfit was so valuable was because the trousers, especially, were always used until they literally could not be sewn back together. But this soldier, who was 17, was a beloved son, so his clothes were carefully put away and remained in just about pristine condition 160 years later. Makes you think, doesn't it?

[Igenlode]

I don't think they went in for 'homespun' until the economy of the South was pretty much up the creek, did they?
It's my understanding that the uniforms at the beginning of the American Civil War were turned out in textile mills and smartly dyed by mechanical processes...

What I'm reminded of are Hornblower's silk stockings (fifty years earlier), which cost several guineas a pair and could be ruined by a single day's wear - I suspect those would have been handknitted during the Napoleonic War era, and it puts getting a 'run' in your nylons into perspective!

[Margaret]

One factor in oil lamps vs. candles would presumably be the smell, which is also why beeswax candles were preferred over tallow. Our church nowadays uses exclusively beeswax candles (purchased, I believe, from a local monastery) because they burn more cleanly and with a sweet scent. Burning oil is smokier, and tallow candles are reputedly smelly.

[Karlyne]

Igenlode wrote: "I don't think they went in for 'homespun' until the economy of the South was pretty much up the creek, did they?
It's my understanding that the uniforms at the beginning of the American Civil War w..."

Not the particular uniform I saw!

[Nick]

Karlyne wrote: "Overall though I enjoyed it and I'll finish the trilogy. One more series to put on my list of series to finish."

Certainly does... very sad thoughts.

[Nick]

Igenlode wrote: "Lady Denville brings a whole load of (expensive) spermaceti oil along with her other household provisions, and the servants have their noses put out of joint because, we're told, they already have a plentiful supply of perfectly good cheap lamp oil laid in. So are they using lamps rather than candles down there?."

I know that poor people and the lowliest servants used 'rushes' which is basically just a bit of straw or string floating in animal fat, gives off a very nasty smell and only lasts a few hours.

IIRC, the servants were using oil lamps in the kitchen. I wonder if oil lamps give a harsh light relative to candles? I can imagine the chefs needing some good light when they're trying to prepare an evening meal.

And meanwhile, Lady Denville has every room lit with beeswax candles, which give a soothing mellow glow, smell delightful, and, crucially, throw a very flattering light.

[Teresa]

When I was growing up in Ireland in the late sixties we had both oil lamps and candles. Oil lamps gave out a stronger light. You could also put the wick up higher or down lower. There was always a low lighting one on our kitchen table every night as I had a brother who was afraid of the dark. Hard to believe homes were still using some of the same things as late as that, as we read about in the Regency novels.

[Igenlode]

Agreed - oil lamps are much more powerful and flexible in use than candles, and, of course, much safer. They don't have a naked flame, they don't gutter wastefully and annoyingly in draughts, and they can be refilled instead of having to be renewed (in order to remove unsightly part-used stubs). I suspect that after the initial outlay they are also cheaper to run. They are altogether more modern and high-tech.

The main disadvantages I can think of is that they do make a room smell of hot paraffin (at least in a small enclosed space), they channel a column of very hot air up through the chimney, which again in a small space can blister paintwork (our boat cabin lamps had to have a metal shield to protect the decking above), and they're not so portable - it's much easier to take a candle up to bed with you or down a dark corridor than to carry a heavy glass chimney and oil reservoir in one hand (even if the latter is less apt to blow out). Table lamps large enough to light a room and be refilled weekly are weighty objects. Parlour pianos are provided wirh attached candle holders to illuminate the music, not wicks and burners.

The other aspect is the aesthetic one; a chandelier is a thing of beauty, and a branching candlebra on a wall or table is elegant. A burnished brass lamp can be attractive, but it's more domestic than romantic or aristocratic (especially when such things were modernities rather than being regarded as quaint Victoriana). And of course the reduced illumination is flattering, especially to women no longer in their first youth...