Coffee Essay

Hi everyone,

Here is the rough sketch of the essay-I need to replace words-I use "whiggish middle class" far too much.

The emergence of the middle class in eighteenth century Britain was closely tied to the new market economy. A wider array of choice allowed consumers to express individual taste through the purchase of commodities. At the same time, a shift from the country to the urban space of the city cut long established ties and networks of neighbors that had been part of rural existence. The city, with a dense and anonymous population, ensured anonymity with strangers. The new urban space for the middle class was the site of the coffeehouse, where Whiggish middle class men could indicate their class through an established set of rituals and behaviors that reinforced their elite status.¹ The eighteenth century British coffeehouse was a battle site where the newly created middle class sought to reinforce their elite status by ensuring that their rules emerged as the dominant discourse for urban behavior. Joseph Addison and Richard Steele's newspapers, The Tatler and The Spectator, published from 1708-1711, laid the foundations for the middle class mores that have continued to indicate socioeconomic status through the twenty first century.

Though individualism is often traced to the beginning of the Enlightenment or the watershed moment of the French Revolution, the emergence of the coffeehouse in seventeenth century London clearly demonstrates the existence of individuals a century before. By articulating a new set of rules in publicly circulated newspapers, Addison and Steele were introducing new notions of acceptable and unacceptable behaviors that would govern public space. The Tatler and the Spectator were not the only voices in the eighteenth century urban milieu but they were becoming louder, and by mid century public behavior was dictated by middle class norms grown from Whiggish notions of propriety, not from royal courts or kings. Nobles now adapted their behavior to ideas of politeness born out of the market economy. Whereas previously Court manners had trickled down to the lower classes, now manners escalated from the middle class upward to the nobility.

Urban anonymity complicated rank. The hierarchy of court life did not translate to the city. In a society where rank dictated treatment, it was imporant to have a system where status could be immediately indicated to strangers. Gentility and superior status came to be associated with elites. By defining the rules of politeness, the newly formed middle class asserted authority and claimed space and importance in a hierarchy of class. The evolution of the British coffeehouse reflects the struggle of the middle class for dominance of the public sphere.

The public sphere of the coffeehouse illuminates questions about social anxieties, gender tensions, and political unrest. The eighteenth century witnessed the heyday of the British coffeehouse, which declined sharply in the nineteenth century. This essay will examine the function of the masculine public sphere of the British coffeehouse to answer questions about gender, class, and power. Why were coffeehouses almost exclusively male, even though women were not prohibited from entering? Why were there no female coffeehouses? Were coffeehouses elite space, despite their claims of egalitarian bonhomie?

The first Europeans to drink coffee in the 1650s were Oxford scholars studying the Levant. This new and exotic beverage gained popularity with the virtuosi-elite men who collected cabinets and rooms of curiosities to display to their friends. For the virtuosi, coffee conveyed exoticism and status, much like a rare stuffed bird or a piece of ancient statuary. It was the middle class, however, who would transform coffee from an exotic brew for foppish dilettantes to the sober fuel of business men.

Early virtuosi were mocked as dilettantes. Their carefully crafted intellectual elitism and perusal of the exquisite marked them as suspicious. With the advent of the Spectator and the Tatler, however, the virtuosi began to decline as the whiggish middle class ascended, taking over the coffeehouse as their favorite place of business. By associating coffee with productivity and commerce, Whig values dominated the social atmosphere of this urban space. Addison and Steele are often credited with establishing the modern middle class. The observations of Mr. Spectator and Isaac Bickerstaff formed a didactic prescriptive literature aimed to correct the excessive burden of formal manners and inform the middle class how to behave in public. “Previously, Addsion thought, “conversation, like the Romish religion, was so encumbered by show and ceremony that it stood in need of a Reformation to retrench its superfluities, and restore it to its natural good sense and beauty. At present therefore an unconstrained carriage, and a certain openness of behavior are the height of good breeding. The fashionable world is grown free and easie, our manners, sit more loose upon us; nothing is so modish as an agreeable negligence.”²

This burgoise domination of the public sphere had a decidedly Whiggish turn. In addition to demonstrating belonging through manners, new patterns of consumption and display became integral to refinement and taste. The tea table, with its ceremony and association with gossip, became associated with the feminine private sphere, while the coffehouse and its association with political talk, reason, ideas became associated with masculine urban culture.

The origins of the British coffeehouse were steeped in scholarship and subversion. Orientalist scholars sipped “coffa, blacke as soote” to compliment their study of the Levant. By the 1660s, Peter Stahel, a famed chemist and “great hater of women” began to offer instruction in chemistry to a select group of Oxford virtuosi at Tilliard's coffeehouse.³ . Seventeenth century coffeehouses in University towns were often seen as an invitation to corruption. Scholars were prohibited to enter both taverns and coffeehouses because they distracted them from study, but also because they encouraged rebellion in the social order.⁴ The coffeehouse seemed to invite improper rebellion in the form of criticism towards respected leaders-in this case-college tutors. Indeed, the decline of current scholarship was attributed to “coffy houses, to which most scholars retire and spend much of the day in hearing and speaking of news, [and] in speaking vily of their superiors.”⁵

Cambridge University coffeehouses had to agree that they would “suffer no scholars of this University, under the degree of Masters of Arts, to drink coffee, chocolate, sherbett, or tea...except their tutors be with them.⁶

The anxiety about the coffeehouse centered not on the beverage being served, but on the social conventions that accompanied it. In contrast to the tavern, where hi jinks and merry behavior could be traced to the effects of alcohol, coffeehouses were dangerous not because of the coffee they served but because of the conversation they allowed. The coffeehouse was self consciously constructed as a “penny university⁷” where anyone might be a scholar, but elitism was maintained by making fun of these inferior pretenders by criticizing their Latin and Greek. “But did you but hear /their Latin I fear/ You'd laugh till you burst your breeches.⁸

Despite claims that the coffeehouse was welcoming to all for the cost of a penny, choosing to patronize the coffeehouse was a way some elites chose to separate themselves with plebeian company. While the tavern remained the raucous and bawdy arena for prostitutes and the lower class workers of both sexes, the coffee house and tea table provided sober and polite alternative publics for men and women to demonstrate taste, politeness, and class superiority through consumption and ritual. The eighteenth century British coffeehouse was not merely another venue for drinking, but a unique public experience where men could meet and evaluate other men, discuss topics that were taboo in mixed company, and conduct business. The accepted behavior in the coffeehouse was dictated by elite men, and the unaccepted behavior reveals much about the social anxieties of these men.

The public sphere could not have existed without the availability of public space. The coffeehouse as a structure was necessary before the bonhomie of coffeehouse conversation could exist. The increase in all male space outside the home was a necessary step to the masculine publics that shaped early modern discourse and was in turn shaped by it.

Early modern coffeehouses were plain wooden structures with windows and servants, very similar to established public houses and taverns. Broadsides, engravings, and windows allowed the public to see and be seen. Often following a Turkish theme, coffeehouses offered a novel new public that claimed to be free of social distinctions. Virtuosi were the first to claim space in the coffeehouse and establish it as an adjunct intellectual space, similar to other clubs and intellectual societies where members self consciously constructed egalitarian brotherhood where there were no distinctions of rank. Though this emerged during the same century that witnessed the execution of Charles I and a political movement that called for the abolition of rank and the adoption of universal male suffrage, noted historian Brian Cowan argues that this was not meant to promote social leveling but it was rather a means by which the genteel manners of the new metropolitan “Town” were to be distinguished from what were perceived to be the excessive and stifling formalities of the past.⁹ Rank played an enormous role in regulating the public sphere of the coffeehouse, but class rather than noble title was judged to be important. Rather than a hierarchy with nobles at the top, middle class men reconfigured the rules to benefit their own rise in society. Their successful ascension over nobles necessitated the removal of noble titles the race for social primacy. In The Rules and Orders of the Coffee House, a verse admonished patrons that, “first Gentry, tradesman, all are welcome hither, / And may without affront sit down together: /Pre-eminance of place, none here should mind, /But take the next fit seat that he can find:/Nor need any, if finer persons come, rise up to assign to them his room.¹⁰

The British coffeehouse was the basis for Jurgen Habermas's theories about the new public sphere that originated in the eighteenth century. Habermas defined the public sphere as a place where the private subject experienced public life.¹¹ In the eighteenth century British coffeehouse, the identity of the private subject was publicly on display and taste, culture, and opinion could mingle without interference from the expected traditions and norms of court life. Identity and new ways of thinking and experiencing were essential to the public sphere, and the coffeehouse was one of the new public spaces to admit private individuals expressing their personal tastes. The private sphere is linked to bourgeois consumption through the desire of the individual to express taste and personality. Politeness and civility were the hallmarks of middle class consciousness, and despite the claims that coffeehouses were places where rank and title were cast aside in favor of mutual respect and conversation, gender norms, class, and behavior were vigilantly policed in the eighteenth century British coffeehouse.

The eighteenth century British coffeehouse was located in the so called public sphere of urban sociability that mixed consumption and politeness outside the home. Though similar in many ways to the alehouse and public tavern, the coffeehouse promoted a more genteel and sober atmosphere than taverns, which were associated with low life, prostitution, and misbehavior. Cowan observes that “Although they were hardly cordoned off from the social world of the “better sort,” public drinking houses were commonly thought to be places conducive to misbehavior. And if many found this to be part of their allure, few people wished to be known s one who made a regular practice out of frequenting taverns or alehouses.¹²

Addison and Steele's reformation of manners resulted in a legacy of accepted modes of behavior and taste that even in the twenty-first century resonate with the middle class. Manners and taste displayed the semiotics of class for elite men and women, and Mr. Spectator informed them when these changed. Middle class taste was not the only taste available, but it was becoming a loud voice in a public conversation about propriety, and as the eighteenth century wore on, middle class manners and mores were the lingua franca of polite society. In light of eighteenth century views of propriety, the absence of women in the coffeehouse makes sense because it was a public meeting place for commerce and masculine social exchange, much like the Bourse or the Inns of Court. Just as the middle class woman did not frequent the tavern or the Rota club, she also did not frequent the coffeehouse.

Much of eighteenth century socializing was based the mutual consumption of a drink. The nature of the drink dictated the nature of the company surrounding the drink, and thus the experience. Ale, coffee, and tea were not mere selections from a menu, but culturally understood experiences that demanded specific space and a code of public interaction. The coffeehouse existed in self conscious opposition to the tavern and allowed patrons to order coffee or an assortment of alcoholic beverages without the plebeian culture of the tavern. Coffeehouse culture was in many ways a departure from public space that had been held in common and allowed cross class interaction. The tavern had always been accessible to elite men, though they had to tolerate the “patina of low life” associated with it.¹³ The coffee house was widely celebrated as being accessible to all, but in reality was aimed at attracting the middle class and making them comfortable with aristocrats or wealthier and more powerful men, not aiding the lower orders in levelling social standing with their superiors.¹⁴ The choice between coffeehouse and tavern was further separated by making alcoholic drinks available at the coffeehouse, thus allowing elites to tipple in respectability.

Whereas Restoration era coffeehouses were dens of political iniquity, eighteenth century coffeehouse culture sought to promote a gentility that had not existed in the previous century. Through the literary public sphere of Addison and Steele's Tatler and Spectator, an emerging politeness and taste defined the whiggish middle class gentleman against his old fashioned aristocratic counterpart and the crude mannered, low class ruffian of the tavern. The new culture of bourgeois politeness owed much to the circulation of didactic reading materials, most prominently The Spectator. Through the circulation of this newspaper, people as far away as Scotland could practice a new refinement of manners that was coming to define the public sphere.¹⁵

The coffeehouse harbored a masculine public sphere, but women were often present in the coffeehouse. 'Coffee women' as they were called, often owned their own shops or were employed serving the beverage to patrons, and maids, servants, and prostitutes participated in the day to day runnings of the coffeehouse.¹⁶ These women, however, were not part of the public sphere-they were disregarded the way slaves and servants always were by their elite employers and were not participants.¹⁷ Elite women did not patronize the coffeehouse because appearing in public would have suggested a sexual and class based transgression in the same way appearing at a public house would mark one as a public woman, and therefore a prostitute.¹⁸ Coffeehouses were not unique in assigning a male purview to their space, this was the case with most early modern urban venues.

The rules governing the coffeehouse were similar to rules governing other all male social space. The assumption of learning, particularly of reasoned, philosophical learning, and political debate were appropriate topics of conversation when ladies were not present precisely because eighteenth century beliefs about gender coupled with understandings of politeness allowed elite men to discuss these subjects in the absence of ladies. Women were present, as servants, coffeehouse owners, and prostitutes, but elite men did not recognize them as actors because they were of a lower class. Servants and slaves were usually treated as non entities by elites in eighteenth century; at the very least their presence was discounted, but often they were simply ignored.

Conclusion:

The coffeehouse was both a dangerous place where hierarchy and tradition might be discarded or ignored as well as a sober and industrious place where working men could gather. Praise and criticism of the coffeehouse highlights the different social anxieties present in early modern Britain. Gender norms and class differences caused the most social anxiety for early modern urban dwellers. Whereas seventeenth century tracts had long used the metaphorical “battle for the breeches” to discuss gender tensions, eighteenth century coffeehouse discourse was more subtle. Here, femininity was attacked through the figures of the fop and the beau; men who paid too much attention to manners and appearance. Abel Boyer criticized the beau as a man who “has all the folly, vanity, and levity of a woman.”¹⁹

In the seventeenth century, coffeehouses were criticized as venues where unregulated conversation threatened the established social order. At the macro level, they were associated with rebellion against the King, and at the micro level, with undermining the authority of college tutors over their students. By the eighteenth century, however, the coffeehouse had gained a reputation as a sober public space for the discussion of news and business. Instead of facing criticism from a wary public, the institution of the coffeehouse served as a tool of social control, where gender roles were policed and rules of politeness were enforced.

1Whig politicians championed commerce and ideals associated with the middle class “self made man”

2Cowan, 102

3cowan

4The academic gowns of the University of St. Andrews, Scotland, were changed from the black of Oxford and Cambridge to red at this time. The red dye served to identify any student breaking University rules by frequenting a tavern or coffeehouse.

5Cowan, 92

6Cowan, 93

7Cowan, 101

8Cowan, 100

9Cowan, 102

10Cowan, 102

11Mr. Spectator, Cowan, 345

12Cowan, 105

13Where is this quote in Cowan??

14Cowan

15Cowan, article

16

17Cite

18

19Cowan, 230

Editing Blog

After thinking about the perils of posting rough work to English grad students,  I am returning for more!  I have tons of (hopefully) future articles which exist now as good ideas trapped in imperfect essay formats.  I would love to be able to post this on my blog and would welcome insights and suggestions as I continue to tweak and perfect my work.  If any of you have things you would like to group/peer edit, would you post them on your blogs?  I know when I am procrastinating I would much rather clean up someone else's work than tackle my own-perhaps if we had this editing network we could all give a few minutes now and then and dramatically improve work that we always mean to but never have time to do. 



After this class is over, I would like to continue with this and I would welcome any of you as contacts.  I will post more later.

Liz-thank you for your suggestions

Open Office format

This is one area where Open Office seems to have limitations.  Here is a paragraph of my essay I am working on.  If you can read it and have any questions or comments, please post them. 

In eighteenth century Britain, class and gender were becoming closely tied to a commercial market. Cheaper prices and an expanding market allowed more people than ever before to experience choice when shopping. The coffeehouse became one more purchaseable experience for men with a penny to spend. The coffeehouse was the locus of far more than an exotic brew, however, because of it's association with Addison and Steele's Spectator A wider selection became available to the lower classes, and with cheaper prices, the market could now substitute handiwork to demonstrate personal choice and taste. Instead of hand crafting objects to use as adornment, householders were hand selecting objects to convey taste. The rising awareness of men and women to the fashions and trends in clothing, entertainment, and conspicuous display shaped their manners and environments. With the introduction of coffee, tea, and other beverages that centered around public display, elite men and women demonstrated and performed class-based rituals that reinforced their status. While eighteenth century elite women entertained single sex or mixed sex company at the tea table within the confines of the home, elite men conducted their conversation in the all-male public sphere of the coffeehouse.

The coffeehouse harbored a masculine public sphere, but women were often present in the coffehouse. 'Coffee women' as they were called, often owned their own shops or were employed serving the beverage to patrons, and maids, servants, and prostitutes participated in the day to day runnings of the coffeehouse.¹ These women, however, were not part of the public sphere-they were disregarded the way slaves and servants always were by their elite employers and were not participants. Elite women did not patronize the coffeehouse because appearing in public would have suggested a sexual and class based transgression in the same way appearing at a public house would mark one as a public woman, and therefore a prostitute. Coffeehouses were not unique in assigning a male purview to their space, this was the case with most early modern urban venues.

1

The Coffeehouse Redux

I am working on an essay for my British History class and I could use some feedback.  I started by exploring the Habermasian public sphere of the coffeehouse, and wondered about the pecularities of the masculine space.  Here is a brief sample of what went through my head: Why are there no female coffeehouses? Are women present only as servants?  Do women damage their reputation by frequenting a coffeehouse the same way they do by frequenting a tavern?  Are coffeehouses the more elite version of the tavern if one can purchase alcohol in the coffeeshop?  If coffeehouses are linked to brothels, why don't we know this?  How does class show in the coffeehouse?  How does class show anywhere?  Aren't the virtuosi fops?  Aren't the Royalists fops?  What do Addison and Steele have to do with how women behave?

After struggling to piece together some understanding, I am left with a clever title but my essay is still in formation.  It's past the embryonic stage right to the point where I hate it because it is not going where I want it to go.  I will post some of it up here (though it is far too rough to be shown to an English class) and maybe you would be kind enough to look and give an insight, if you have one. 

Oh-Liz, I am always awed by the speed of Amazon.  It is the Concorde of the mail.

Equiano and Identity

It is so interesting to observe how disciplines examine the same text so differently.  Olaudah Equiano's narrative raises such controversey to historians because they focus on the impossibility of determining his birthplace.  The complex identities and Atlantic-Carribean heritage of Equiano pale in comparison to the frustration historians feel at not being able to discern whether or not his narrative is the 'Truth.'  Exploring this text in an English class allowed me more freedom than I have ever known from a history perspective.  The shift from viewing the text as truth versus lies was complicated and enhanced by putting the questions of Equiano's African birth aside and listening to the voice that did exist throughout the text.  Even when enslaved, Equiano's experience is exceptional.  Indeed, most eighteenth century white males did not lead lives as prolific or extraordinary as Ouladah did as a black African.  Equiano's slavery was marked by exceptionalism as well as liminal space.  Styling himself as a gentleman and appealing to Mr. King and other white paternal masters by demonstrating his skill and refinement allowed Equiano to negotiate a 'better' slavery than slaves were entitled to, and kept him in the liminal space between master and slave; owned but morally superior to his owner.  Equiano demonstrates his refinement and exceptionalism in his European dress, his liberal education, and his tenuous place between white authority and black enslavement.  Like his body and personhood, his geographic place is constantly changing and not subject to the rules of society.  Ship culture in eighteenth century Britain was a unique social and political space, where many people on the social margins claimed space.  Female sailors such as Hannah Snell and other individuals who did not fit the social or political parameters or gender norms often found respite on the seas, where a different set of rules allowed them to exist as they were.  In Equiano's case, he is classified as a servant when shipboard, not a slave.  His yearning for British respectability and freedom is closely aligned with his desire to sail, perhaps because it is as close to freedom as he can get. 

I am sad to be done with the discussions of Hogarth, Joseph Andrews and the Pamela media event.  The subjects of class and gender are particularly interesting in the eighteenth century urban milieu of London.  I did have one last thought to add about servants and dress.

Though Richardson and Fielding weave fictional narratives around a true contemporary view of servants as visual (and sexual) showpieces, gender difference determines not only the manner in which Joseph and Pamela interpret and react to the sexual advances of their employers, but also how much resistance each may show and keep their good reputation. 


The reality of post seduction career opportunities for women, however, were much more limited than they would have been for a man sleeping 'out of turn.'  Seduced women would be thrown out without a character reference and presumably left to prostitution or starvation in the metropolis.  But what of ruined males?  Joseph might be turned out of service, and though his body was now 'tainted' by immorality, it would not commit him to exclusivly sexual work in the future, as it would have for the female servant who had been seduced.  Another key difference was payment.  Maids who became pregnant or were thrown out of the house for sexual misconduct were not paid.  In Fielding's novel, Joseph is dismissed  but paid first, and sets out upon the road to adventure, where he expects gainful employment in the broad field of service. Though men and women both sold their bodies in exchange for economic stability, the woman's bodily labor was sexual, and the mans was not. 

The heavy concentration of prostitutes in eighteenth century London was noted by foreign visitors as being considerably higher than other European cities, even  Paris, as noted by M. Grosley. Popular eighteenth century novels referenced prostitutes (Moll Flanders) and servants (Pamela, Joseph Andrews) and the connection between the two was not lost on employers of servants or readers of books.

Joseph Andrews

Josehph Andrews has delighted me!  I have always been fond of Candide, and throughout Fielding's novel I have been seeing echos of Voltaire.  Beth wondered why Fielding wrote his novel as a journey, and compared it to Chaucer, which was something I had not thought of.  As soon as I had read a few chapters, I was reminded so much of Pangloss that I could think of nothing else.  Fielding's commentary on Christians is very amusing.  How quickly farmers, parsons, and everyone else turn against Adams as soon as he asks for a loan.  It this mercantilist age, not only is there a shortage of actual coins, but also a marked resentment when money is asked for.  One of my favorite scenes was when Adams was breakfasting with the pig farming parson, and his ale is snatched from his hand by his host, who insists that no one shall drink before him in his own house.  His obvious self aggrandizing and churlish nature were so perfectly illustrated by Fielding's examples and I am sure we can all recall instances where we have been so absolutely stunned by the uncouth behavior of an acquaintance that we have been at a loss for words.  Fielding's skill lies in his ability to recount these events in fiction, and with such satire, that we, along with Adams, squirm in discomfort as we laugh. 

Class and money are at the core of Joseph Andrews as much as the subject of virtue.  I found Sharon's mention of semiotics interesting.  I study the semiotics of class and gender in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, and am used to thinking of the semiotics of clothing and class more than the semiotics of money in relation to its gold or sterling value, but this addition of money has planted a seed for future research ideas.  As for the semiotics of class, they make up the entire book.  The references to Greek, Latin, and medicine imply education, the mangled manners of would be bourgeois "respectable" citizens like Mrs. Tow-wouse highlight their complete lack of gentility, and the promises of horses, a place to stay and a living poke fun at those who would be perceived as having arrived in the world, only to impress others and make their lives infinitely worse by broken  promises.  Because Fielding, like Addison and Steele, makes fun of a species as opposed to a person, these stereotypes and characters are recognizable in our own postmodern world, visible in store clerks, friends, colleagues, and neighbors. 

Aristocrats Review

The Lennox sisters were born aristocrats, with links to the English peerage and cousins to the King himself. Their elite status, coupled with their vast fortunes and exclusive social circles, puts them in sharp contrast to the lower and middle class cultures of eighteenth century Britain. With access to the best of everything and plenty of servants to keep their houses in order, Emily, Sarah, Caroline and Louisa did not have a daily routine that corresponded to most Britons. Wealth did not keep them free of tragedy however, and the death of children, infidelity in spouses, and sickness upset their hopes time and again.
Though the eighteenth century ushered in manners and mores that came to be associated with the middle class, Aristocrats reveals the behavior of elites who had the luxury of dictating taste and style without the self conscious study of societal norms. Instead of policing their identities to correspond with gender norms and societal expectations, these women, secure in their social and financial status, easily transition between the so called separate spheres of eighteenth century life. Emily and Caroline were deeply invested and involved with their husbands political careers, though they did not consider themselves bluestockings or agitators for women’s equal rights. Whereas their non elite counterparts may have had to consult husbands or fathers before making large purchases, Emily, Caroline and Louisa spend with abandon based on their whims and desires with self assurance. While some eighteenth century middle class men and women were reading The Spectator for hints on how to acquire taste, the Lennox sisters were confidently displaying it in their dress, demeanor, and decor.
After marrying the richest man in Ireland, Louisa spent the next 25 years carefully decorating and enhancing the beauty of their palatial home with the very best furnishings, oil paintings, fabrics and furniture. Her sisters called this home-decorating process Louisa’s "business." A joke among the sisters, it revealed the impossibility of Louisa having a real business; not because of her gender but because of her class. Both the idea of earning money and the restraint of thrift were absent from elite lives. Emily’s marriage to Lord Kildare of Ireland brought a house worth forty-six thousand pounds and an income of fifteen thousand pounds a year from rents. Emily spent this and more, driving them into debt. By the 1770s, the Kildare’s owed nearly one hundred fifty thousand pounds. While Tillyard suggests that Lord Kildare became sexually excited by Emily spending money, there could be several other reasons she was so free with credit. The British aristocracy was often in debt, but since their credit was linked to their status as a peer, they could continue to buy and ignore the bills until they could pay them. By eighteenth century mores, it would have been very insulting for a shopkeeper to ask for cash payment from any person of means, and since the aristocrats had the upper hand in the social and political hierarchy of Britain, many nobles simply paid at their leisure. After shopping in London in 1757, Emily wrote Lord Kildare "My scheme is to pay my old bills only, and any of the trifling new ones; but it would be too much to pay all indeed. Besides the people here never worry one for money you know."
The elite status of the Lennox sisters is shown in many ways. Evidence of the "consumer revolution" in eighteenth century market economies comes to life in lists of household items and consumables. Many of the mass quantities of supplies purchased by Emily, Caroline and Louisa were luxury items. Tillyard reports Kildare’s alarm of "… the quantities of silk dresses, jewels, rolls of taffeta, yards of hand painted wallpaper, bundles of books and expanses of carpet" bought by his wife. It was not merely the acquisition of consumable goods, but the very attitude of the elite that marked their status. Instead of ordering books by title, Emily had a standing order with a bookseller to send her "all the new books" without concern for quantity and cost. Though the middle class congregated in coffeehouses and joined in the discussion of politics, the Lennox women continued to live life under the rules of the Ancient Regime, commingling with other nobles and never carrying cash.
The Lennox family charts a change in eighteenth century aristocratic behavior. The Duke and Duchess of Richmond had an arranged marriage, where they had learned to love each other out of duty. Caroline challenged this aristocratic notion of duty by eloping with Fox, a prominent politician but clearly middle class, with no royal blood. While the Duke rejects Kildare because of his Irish heritage, he objects more to Fox, who commits dishonor by stepping outside the bounds of an established hierarchy with nobles at the head. Richmond, who based his life on noble duty, was confused by the Whig values that allowed a man like Fox to marry up for his own political and financial gain. That he had talent did not matter; his blood was not good enough to mix with the Lennoxes.
Eighteenth century nobles and elites were transitioning into a public world while their middle class counterparts were attempting to domesticize communal space. Whereas the Duke of Richmond marries for duty, King, and country his daughters foray into the world of mutual affection and love without regard to aristocratic tradition. Each daughter has some generational (and personality) difference that influences her choice of husband and lifestyle, but all break with the wishes of their parents to honor their own desires.
Emily, as Lady Kildare, displays an interest in sex quite typical of stereotypes of the aristocratic woman. She ignores Kildare’s dalliances with the maid and jokes about taking a lover of her own. Caroline takes a more proprietary and middle class view of her husband, Fox, when she demands he not sleep with another social equal but limit himself to maids women of the lower class. This reveals sterotypes about lower class women’s sexual availability as well as the immoral and jaded aristocrats who seduce them.
Aristocrats, assembled from archives of entwined family letters over the course of seventy odd years, does much to illustrate eighteenth century elite life to modern readers. The cultural and sexual mores, the consumable goods and the marriage and life of Britain’s noble elites has been systematically reconstructed in chronological order from primary sources. Tillyard has added immensely to the understanding of the eighteenth century British aristocracy. At times perhaps too speculative, it nonetheless provides primary source evidence rich in political, economic, and gender based issues and is perhaps the most useful microhistory of eighteenth century cultural history yet to be written.In her biography of the Lennox sisters, Stella Tillyard reconstructs the lives of four eighteenth century women and their families through letters they wrote more than three hundred years ago. As a biographer, Tillyard gives herself more license than an historian would allow; often speculating on the feelings and emotions of her subjects that are not strictly obvious from the written record. In this case, however, Tillyard’s narration and clarifications knit the letters together into a cohesive whole, filling in spaces that might otherwise have left the reader wondering. The book is divided into five sections-the first two deal with the four sisters and their marriages to prominent (and not so prominent) men, and the last three with the general themes of their lives. The titles of the three thematic chapters are revealing; "Homes, Education, and Adultery" is followed by "Disaster and Renewal" and finally, "Old Age." Tillyard has subdivided the chapters with quotations from letters referring to events, and has added an appendix, several family trees, and color plates of portraits, facsimiles of the letters themselves, and photographs of the key properties owned by Lennox family. These additions are very helpful in the reading of the book, adding greatly to the understanding of the text.