The Gentleman's Daughter (33 page)

33 ‘The Rage or Shepherds I have lost my Waist’, 1794. A later version of the satirical poem that Beatrix Parker of Marshfield gave Elizabeth Shackleton in the late 1770s.

34 Triptych, ‘Lady Torrington’, ‘Lady Archer’ and ‘Lady Waldegrave’, in Riding Dress, Full Dress and Undress,
c.
1777.

How widespread was this equivocal relationship with high fashion? A desire for precise
information
about new modes was widespread. Women in the Whitaker, Barcroft, Dawson–Greene, Stanhope and Gossip networks all received regular fashion reports from female kin in the capital and polite urban centres. However, a certain disdain for the absurdity of metroplitan excess was
de rigueur
and a proper sense of the triviality of fashion was often paraded. The worldly Mary Warde, for instance, complained about the need to ‘sacrifice more time at the Toilet’ when in company, ‘which I allways think sadly spent …’, while Anna Larpent declared herself resigned to the bore of dressing: ‘a necessary tax on time.’
³⁸
Neverthless, most gentlewomen did aim at a general compliance with metropolitan fashion in clothes, although adaptation for local use, in keeping with the more relaxed decorum of the countryside, was very common. The toning down of aristocratic designs was often preferred to ‘a great deal of shew’; an impression which is confirmed by Anne Buck's case study of the consumer choices facing southern provincial gentlewomen.
³⁹
However, it does seems likely that this measured engagement with London fashion was peculiar to the cautious wives of genteel merchants, professionals and lesser gentry. Peers, plutocrats and upper gentry were sartorially much less inhibited (as were prosperous urban traders, according to Lorna Weatherill
⁴⁰
), but many women were far more constrained. In her impoverished youth Ellen Weeton had suffered the ignominy of shabby garments, so her brother, a legal apprentice in Preston, could appear well dressed, and thereby lost several of her genteel acquaintances. In middle age she self-consciously adopted ‘a neat, plain style of dress’ consistent with her straitened finances and status as an unmarried governess. Although drawing puritanical satisfaction from her sartorial nonconformity, Ellen Weeton recorded the rude stares and ‘severe insults and mortifications’ she brought upon herself. In fact one of her friends refused to take her to church until she had ordered ‘something fit to appear in’ from the mantua-maker.
⁴¹

35 ‘Ladies in the Dress of 1786’ from the
Ladies' Own Memorandum Book
(1787).

36 ‘Fashionable Dresses’, from
Carnan's Ladies Complete Pocket Book for 1802
.

Beyond its instrumental role, the exchange of information ‘in the fashion way’ had wider implications for feminine culture. Filling their letters with ‘Fashions, Flounces & Flourishes’, women shared doubts, advice and experience.
⁴²
Basic to female relationships was the exchange of consumer services. Both Bessy Ramsden and Ann Pellet willingly fulfilled Elizabeth's fashionable commissions for ‘tis allways a pleasure to serve our friends’, sustaining relationships over two decades without a single meeting. (‘Bessy is proud her Marketings gave Content … I verily believe she
did her best
and if at any time you would
highly oblige
Her, send Her
a Shopping
.’
⁴³
) In a similar manner, Eliza Parker shopped for family and friends in Preston and York in the 1800s; Anne Robbins sent boxes of modish London clothes to her Lancashire nieces in the 1810s; and in the same decade Elizabeth Reynolds bought metropolitan goods on behalf of her female kin.
⁴⁴
In practice, fashion had far more significance for a woman's relationship with other women than for her relationship with men.

A genuine effort to explore women's relationship with the world of goods must move beyond the moment of purchase – a mere snapshot in the life of a commodity. In fact, Elizabeth Shackleton rarely recorded exactly why she purchased an item, but instead chronicled the way domestic goods were used and the multitude of meanings invested in possessions over time. In consequence, this second section is devoted to domestic material culture. It also sets bought commodities in the context of artefacts acquired by other means, such as inheritance, home-production and gift-exchange. The discussion examines the roles of artefacts in social practices: the maintenance of property was a constituent of genteel housekeeping, goods served as currency in the mistress–servant relationship, possessions were key props in inconspicuous ceremonies, but they also demonstrated polite conformity and were easy targets for social criticism. The discussion then proceeds to an elaboration of the range of meanings artefacts could embody.

The practice of housekeeping provided Elizabeth Shackleton with an esteemed role; her skills enabled her to remain useful to her sons and afforded a gratifying means of favourable comparison with other women. Nevertheless, in large part, housekeeping was a form of work which lacked an obvious and lasting product. Well-serviced clothes and domestic goods were in themselves rare and tangible proof of her labour. Wherever possible Mrs Shackleton prolonged the life of her semi-durable
possessions: ‘I made me a work bag of my old, favourite, pritty, red & white Linnen gown’, and three years later, ‘made a cover for the Dressing drawers of my pritty Red & white linnen gown.’ She took delight in ingenious adaptation and thrift. ‘I cut a pair of fine worsted stockings, good legs & bad feet – to draw over my Stocking to keep my knees warm – Like them much now they are made properly for the use.’ Household goods were valued for their fitness to purpose and for long years of trusty service: ‘to my vexation cross & rude Betty broke Mr S.'s pot that he has had for his tea at Breakfast many years. She pore hot water init out of the tea kettle & crack'd it all to pieces.’
⁴⁵

In addition to providing the architecture of her material role, goods were part of the currency of the mistress–servant relationship. What was Elizabeth Shackleton's to give and the servants' to take was subject to negotiation and reinterpretation, as already noted, but a servant's right to clothing was a particularly disputed issue – the confusion compounded by the practice of occasional payment in kind and the provision of liveries for menservants. Over and above payment, servants could expect discarded clothing depending upon their mistress's mood.
⁴⁶
Elizabeth Shackleton's commentary suggests that these goods were offered in a spirit of gracious patronage, not in recognition of the legitimacy of a customary perquisite. However, if she hoped to foster deferential gratitude in her workforce, Mrs Shackleton was constantly disillusioned. Unrepentant and ungovernable servants regularly packed up and threatened to be off ‘with their wardrobe’. Indeed, Elizabeth found that withholding a servant's belongings could be a useful tactic in delaying their departure.
⁴⁷
These domestic servants have left no direct testimony, but from their mistress's records it is obvious that they accepted new and cast-off clothes and trinkets, which Mrs Shackleton believed them to value: ‘Gave Betty [some] old Oratorio Gauze that came of a white chip hat, it will make her very fine.’
⁴⁸
However, it is far from certain that wearing a lady's dress made a parlour maid look, feel or be treated like a lady. To presume she wished she was a lady might seem legitimate, but certainly does not follow from evidence that she accepted a second-hand dress. After all, second-hand dresses could be attractive simply because they had a high resale value. Moreover, the efforts ex-servants made to retrieve their wages and wardrobe, including the threat of legal action, suggest that clothing was seen as an important part of their earnings, rather than merely the coveted equipment of social emulation.
⁴⁹

One of the striking features of Elizabeth Shackleton's diaries is the way in which she characterized almost all her possessions (clothes, plate,
kitchenware and linen) as either ‘best’ or ‘common’. Common goods were those designated indispensable. Best goods were not necessarily new or fashionable. Neither does this best/common dichotomy neatly correspond with a /files/05/05/53/f050553/public/private or front/back characterization of eighteenth-century domestic space. Elizabeth Shackleton drew on a conception of the occasion and the everyday to differentiate the ways things were used. The occasion may indeed have involved company and social display, but that did not define the event. Religious and sentimental observance both generated celebration, with or without an audience. Christian feasts called for special clothes, best tableware and thoughtfully arranged furniture. Family anniversaries were commemorated by private rituals involving new clothes and old treasures. On Tom Parker's twenty-fourth birthday, although he was absent and there were no visitors, his mother ‘put on in Honour to this Good day my quite new purple Cotton night Gown And a new light brown fine cloth Pincushion [made of] a piece of coat belonging to my own Dear child, my own dear Tom, with a new Blue string’. On his twenty-fifth birthday she donned the same pincushion. Congratulating her youngest son on his birthday in 1777, Elizabeth Shackleton wrote ‘I wish and better wish you my own dear love was with us … I have your valuable rings on my fingers, John's picture before me and my Bracelet on the table I write upon.’
⁵⁰
Such intimate rituals emphasize the talismanic properties of material things and bear witness to the personal significance of inconspicuous consumption. Elizabeth Shackleton used material things to honour God and her family, to lend substance to her relationships and ultimately as reassurance in the face of death, witness her prayers in May 1779, in her fifty-third year: ‘I now have only five teeth in all in my head. I left off my old stays & put on my best stays for Good. I left off my very old green quilted Callimanco Petticoat and put on my new drab Callimanco quilted petticoat for good. God Grant me my health to wear it & do well.’
⁵¹

This is not to say that Elizabeth Shackleton was ignorant of social convention and the necessity for material and sartorial observance. Guests were usually treated to the best china and linen. When surprise visitors arrived at dinner-time, Mrs Shackleton ‘made all nice as we co'd for our Guests. Used my handsome, new, Damask table cloth which looks most beautiful for the first [time]. Good luck to it, hope it will do well.’
⁵²
When visiting herself, and in particular when attending dinner-parties and celebrations, Mrs Shackleton made a conscious and obvious effort: ‘dress'd myself in my best A High Head & low Heels …’
⁵³
She endeavoured to dress appropriately for the occasion: