Treason in a Brandy Bottle

The Glorious Revolution had been accomplished; William and Mary were sharing the throne as England’s first and only joint monarchs. But the followers of the expelled James II had not given up. This broadside describes how treasonable letters might have been carried to their destination had it not been for the curiosity of a patriotic tradesman. This is the sort of thing that makes perfect broadside material. It seems that Lady Griffith escaped execution, but her husband the first Lord Griffith was imprisoned and ultimately executed for treason.

An Account of the Apprehending of Treasonable Designs discovered in some Papers found in the false Bottoms of two large Brandy Bottles, on the 21st. of October, 1689.

Licensed October 24th 1689. J. Fraser.

The Security their present Sacred Majesties now stand upon, and the Foundation the Protestant Religion receives from their Administration, seems so establisht that their Enemies are reduced to their last shift of Wile and Stratagem, under the Covert of Disguise and Night to work their dark and hidden Designs against Them. An Instance of which has very lately demonstrated the Subtilty and Restlessness of that unsatisfied Party, which take as follows. The Lady Griffin, Wife to the Right Honourable the Lord Griffin, A Lady that has some years layn under the Affliction of Blindness, living in the Pall-mall, employed one of her Servants to bespeak two large Pewter Brandy Bottles containing five or six Quarts each Bottle, with each of them false Bottoms; which when she had got finished, on the twenty second Instant, late at Night, between the hours of Ten and Eleven, she sent her said Servant in company with a young Page of hers with the same Bottles to a strange Pewterer’s living in Panton-street to get the false Bottoms soder’d fast down upon the Bottles, in which Bottoms she had caused a great Parcel of Treasonable Letters to be laid and covered with Cotton: The honest Pewterer, surprized at the sight of two Bottles of that sly sort of make, and the cunning Conveyance of private Things thus suspiciously stowed in them, being likewise a little stagger’d at the unseasonableness of the Time of Night when they were brought to him to be thus closed up, made bold to satisfie his Curiosity by searching what lay concealed under the Cotton; and finding them to be a large quantity of Letters, apprehended both the said Servants of the said Lady, who were that Night committed to the Gate-house, (where the elder Servant now lies close Prisoner,) and the Letters he conveyed to the Right Honourable the Earl of Shrewsbury Principal Secretary of State. The Lady upon Inquiry after her is taken into Custody.

——From a broadside printed in 1689.

Disinfectants

Worcester’s Dictionary (1848 edition) defines “infection” as “the propagation of disease through the medium of the air.” “The simple theory of disinfectants” is that air that smells bad carries disease, and that eliminating the bad odor will therefore eliminate the infection. It would be wonderfully consoling if the theory were true.

Disinfectants.—Do our lady readers understand the simple theory of disinfectants? Every housekeeper has had occasion to use chloride of lime: half a pound to five gallons of water, is the quantity recommended by a very able chemist. Aromatic vinegar poured upon a heated iron plate is perhaps the pleasantest of all, though not always to be had, or remarkably economical. The cheapest, and, at the same time, one of the most convenient and agreeable of all, is common coffee. Pound the well-dried raw bean in a mortar, and strew the powder on a moderately heated iron plate. Just traversing the house with a roaster containing freshly burned coffee will clear it from all offensive smells.

——From Godey’s Lady’s Book, July, 1852.

The Insalubrious Consequences of Lack of Ventilation

Pestilential diseases of all sorts are engendered by the close, fetid air of English dwellings, says a magazine writer of the 1830s. This is a fairly clear statement of the miasma theory of infection—which, in the absence of knowledge of bacteria and viruses, was a good approximation of the truth. Bad smells indicate bad sanitation, which is certainly a factor in spreading disease.

The pure open air is certainly the most healthy fluid that man can breathe; and this is the reason why a residence in the country has so benignant an effect upon the human frame in general, when attended with all the comforts of refined life. The air in cities is usually impregnated with particles of a more or less deleterious nature; still this air is not so injurious as that of crowded and heated rooms, where the breath of one human being is inhaled as the vital atmosphere of another, with what effect it is easy to judge.

In the dwellings of the poor, where a family of ten or twelve persons sometimes resides in a single room, whilst, perhaps, a small house contains forty or fifty inmates, the windows are generally closed. Not a breath of air is admitted except during the dog-days, and then the external atmosphere is too stagnant and sultry to be of much use. All the offices of the family, including their cookery, their meals, and their repose, are carried on in this single room, the air of which, impregnated with azote from the living occupants, and with fetor from the garments and fragments of food, engenders those pestilential diseases which sometimes break out with irresistible fury in some of the most densely populated districts of the metropolis.

In the dwellings of the inferior tradesmen the same evil prevails. Though the houses are not so thickly inhabited as those of the humbler class, still there are sufficient numbers, added to the inveterate national uncleanliness of body which we indicated in a preceding paper, render these places of residence extremely insalubrious. A breath of air is seldom admitted into the bed-rooms, in which there is always a close, fetid smell. In the sitting-rooms the same evil is perceptible, and the offensiveness of the smell, on entering them from the open air, is oftentimes overpowering. In winter, a very small sitting-room, which serves for a large family to sit and to take their meals in, is kept hermetically closed, with a blazing fire in the grate. The room is soon heated to excess, and its atmosphere, which has been breathed over and over again, impregnated with carbon. A delicate girl, perhaps, leaves this oven for a moment, and, without any gradation, plunges into a pure and cold, or perhaps into a damp, cold atmosphere. What is the probable consequence?—inflammatory action in the lungs, tuberculous deposit, and death. And yet all this might have been avoided by ventilation.

The dwellings of the wealthier classes are not exempt from the same visitations, arising from the same causes. Though there is a freer circulation of air, and a more equal temperature in their vast apartments, still in their parties and entertainments the want of ventilation is severely felt. There seems to be a dread of admitting any external air into a suite of rooms crowded with company; and when a sense of suffocation actually forces some panting guest to open a window, an outcry is raised as loud as if the baneful blast of the simoom, from the African desert, were about to invade this sanctuary of British beauty and fashion. No heed is taken of the consequences of breathing heated air; no account is rendered of the death-chill likely to fall upon the young and lovely, when from the impure they plunge into the pure atmospheric fluid; no consequence is dreaded from the pale and haggard phantom that hovers over each scene of festive enjoyment, and hurls its ice-bolt of destruction at the fairest of our daughters: reckless do mothers expose these tender budding flowers to the pestilential blast, until consumption has fixed its deadly pangs upon the fair bosom of her who yesterday shone as the brightest ornament of an admiring circle, and to-day sinks into a premature grave.

——From The Magazine of Domestic Economy, Vol. II (1837).

Advice on Courtship

From a chapbook published in the early 1800s comes some very practical advice on how to win hearts. One might be forgiven for thinking that the penultimate paragraph contradicts some of the other advice.

Bachelors, Maids, Widowers, and Widows.

There are certain rules which must be observed in courtships: and first, to maids who do not possess their first blushes, your first address must be with gentleness and modesty, lest you frighten them with an opinion that you are rude and uncivil of behaviour, and rather aim at debauching them than any intention of marriage; and you must be brisk with them, or they will take you for a drone without a sting.

Widows, especially young ones, are gamesome and buxom; for having once smelt the spit, they always love a good joint. Those you must entertain with some merry discourse, and lay aside whining or solemn protestations; kiss them till their ears crack and when you find a convenient time and place, warm them with caresses, squeezing their hand, gently treading on their toes; and when you kiss bear close to them. You will soon perceive, by their eager looks, blushing, and frequent changing of colour, that now is the time to ask a favour, to which you will have a faint denial, if any at all; then make the best use of your time, and press forward without delay;—delays are dangerous, and many a fair opportunity has slipped, that could never afterwards be recovered.

As for maids or widows, if you like a brisk man, and are bashful, you may use dumb signs, which is called love’s silent language; gaze on his face, and when he perceives it, suddenly take off your eyes and turn your head aside; blush naturally, forcibly hold out your breathing, and start a little when first you see him at any time, as if you were surprised; if he takes your hand grasp him with a little trembling, and then seem to withdraw your hand again, as if uneasy; if he kisses you, stay your lips on his awhile, as if with great affection. He must be very dull that will not take these hints for the signs of tender love.

Above all things, either men or women ought to conduct themselves with perfect modesty and decorum in the presence of those they esteem, as it is the most certain method of gaining their esteem and love.

More might be said on this subject, but nature and practice are the best instructors.

——From The New Golden Dreamer. A true interpretation of dreams, with other curious matter regarding love and courtship.

—An addendum: the same text is found in this chapbook, which is probably twenty years older.

The Dumb Cake

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” wrote Miss Austen. In her time, it was presumed that the most pressing concern of any young lady was to discover which single man might be in want of her. A chapbook printed in the early 1800s gives directions for a magical ritual by which a group of young ladies may know which of them is next to be married, and to whom, provided that one of the young ladies is willing to donate some of her urine. This tradition seems to be ancient, and to have had a long life. A quick search finds plays called “The Dumb Cake” in 1788 and 1907. Nearly the same directions are given in a book of Games for Hallow-e’en in 1912, though the use of urine is euphemized as “being careful not to use spring water.” In many places the ritual was reserved for St. Mark’s Eve. On that night, Washington Irving writes in “Love Charms,” “Several of them [the servants in Bracebridge Hall] sowed hemp-seed to be reaped by their true lovers; and they even ventured upon the solemn and fearful preparation of the dumb-cake.”

In order to make the Dumb Cake to perfection, it is necessary to observe strictly the following instructions:—Let any number of young women take a handful of wheaten flour, (not a word is to be spoken by any one of them during the rest of the process,) and place it on a sheet of white paper, then sprinkle it over with as much salt as can be held between the finger and thumb: then one of the maids must bestow as much of her own water as will make it into a dough; which being done, each of the company must roll it up, and spread it thin and broad, and each person must (at some distance from each other) make the first letters of her Christian and Surname, with a large new pin, towards the end of the cake: if more Christian names than one, the first letter of each must be made. The cake must then be set before the fire, and each person must sit down in a chair, as far distant from the fire as the room will admit, not speaking a single word all the time. This must be done soon after eleven at night—and between that and twelve each person must turn the cake once, and in five minutes after the clock strikes twelve, the husband of her who is first to be married will appear, and lay his hand on that part of the cake which bears her name.

——From The New Golden Dreamer. A true interpretation of dreams, with other curious matter regarding love and courtship.