Showing posts with label Titanic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Titanic. Show all posts

Thursday, July 7, 2022

Lucy, Lady Duff-Gordon – Haute Couturiere and Entrepreneur

by Tessa Arlen

In 1893 a thirty-year-old woman wakes up one morning to discover that her alcoholic and spendthrift husband has run off—again, this time with a pantomime dancer. There is no money in the bank and even if there were women in 1893 rarely had their own bank accounts, or access to their husband’s. The rent on her fashionable house, just off Berkley Square, is due next month, but she has no idea who their landlord is: that was again something husbands and fathers took care of.

Lucy, Lady Duff Gordon (nee Wallace)

Lucy Wallace is a hair away from destitution: a single mother with a five year old daughter and only an aging mother and a temperamental sister, Elinor, to turn to. Lucy’s worst dilemma is that she has not been educated to earn a living. Of course, she can read and write, and her embroidery and needlework are enviably fine, but beyond becoming a governess or a paid companion she has nothing to offer the world that will result in a salary large enough to keep them. She is a perfect example of a woman from the genteel class of 19th century Britain.


The dressmakers of London

But Lucy has the beginning of a plan to earn money…it is a brave one and luckily she is not worldly enough to realize that the competition to design and make dresses is desperate in London. Thousands of modistes and milliners open and close shops all over the city every day.

In that moment she decides that she must divorce her husband—she can only obtain a divorce for desertion. Cruelty, incompatibility or stealing their wives’ money are not grounds for divorce in 1893. When women married their property and children belonged to the husband. Lucy is not so naïve that she does not knows that the social stigma will cost more than her solicitor’s fees. She won’t let herself think about the friends who will cut her, or point her out with pity as “That woman . . .” But divorce is the final hurdle to her freedom and however distasteful and frightening the divorce court is, she has no choice—if her husband returns he will drink away any money she has managed to make.

She lies in bed and calculates how far she can stretch the frugal sum she has put by from her dress allowance and her pin money. She can just about keep going until her business venture, if she dares to call it that, takes off.


Seamstresses at work in an atelier 1910

She must not let fear paralyze her. She throws back the bedclothes and gets out of bed: the first thing she must do is give her servants notice. As she says goodbye to women who have cooked, cleaned and cared for her for ten years, she cannot bring herself to fire the sixteen-year-old scullery maid, a workhouse orphan taken on only two weeks earlier. There is something about the girl that appeals to Lucy, and she is not so desparate that she must turn a young girl out on the street to starve? They are in the same boat!

Her mother is appalled about the divorce, but even more horrified that Lucy is thinking of going into ‘trade’. Her sister, married to a rich man, is determined that Lucy will make a go of a dressmaking business: after all Lucy’s doll’s clothes, made from scraps of silk and lace, were the envy of their childhood playmates! Elinor reassures her sister that success will be hers: Lucy has a flair for color, and eye for line and style—and anyway she has no choice but to succeed. Elinor has rich friends, and surely the more sophisticated of them won’t bat an eyelash about an unsavory divorce. Elinor promises that her rich husband will vouch for her credit.

The embellished skirt of a Lucile dress 1906

Gradually Lucy Wallace builds her clientele. It is slow going but she begins to succeed. Rich and titled women flock to her tiny little house and sip tea in her cramped drawing room as they wait for fittings for morning, afternoon, and evening dresses. They all agree that Lucy Wallace’s gowns are superbly original and for what is more than half the price of a Paris model! And there are no dreadful Channel crossings to be made, or the irritation of dealing with the patronizing attitude of the great fashion salons on the Rue de la Paix. Charles Frederick Worth is such a dreadful old snob, and it is impossible to get an appointment with Jacques Doucet these days.

The great fashion houses of Rue de la Paix, Paris

Lucy is helped by her scullery maid, the young orphan from the workhouse with a quick mind, deft hands and an aptitude for organization and arithmetic. Together the two women work long hours, taking on seamstresses, embroiders, and tailors as business grows.

There are set-backs: many of them. Cash flow is a nightmare, and Lucy has no skill as a businesswoman: the aristocracy are terrifyingly offhand about paying their bills on time, or in some cases ever. Silk merchants will not extend credit to single women; skilled workwomen are expensive and Lucy refuses to take advantage of cheap piecework labor (women making parts of a garment in their homes for starvation wages).

Piecework from home involved the whole family--for starvation wages

The dining room is her atelier; the drawing room full to overflowing with clients waiting for a fitting in the morning room; the three attic rooms house seamstresses. They moved to upmarket Hanover Square and to the luxury of space enough for fitting rooms galore!

The fashions change rapidly and to become a top designer Lucy can’t simply copy Paris models, she must be innovative, original and create her own look. Lucy’s label “Lucile” becomes known for its informality, its joie de vivre and its vibrant colors. She is fresh, daring and discovers that she has a flair for publicity.

Detail of one of Lucile's dresses

Lucy’s clients are ladies of fashion from a new generation: they are young society hostesses; stage actresses; women of title and means—even their husband’s mistresses patronize Lucy’s salon.  Lady Brook the Countess of Warwick, the Prince of Wales’s new mistress never pays for a single gown, but she reigns supreme in the sophisticated Marlborough Set where no woman would dream of wearing the same dress twice to a grand occasion. Mrs. Cynthia Asquith, the Prime Minister’s wife, brings her avant garde literary friends to be dressed by Lucy; The famous Westend stage actress Ellen Terry insists her costumes are designed by Lucy, and even Victoria Eugenie Julia Ena of Battenberg the Queen of Spain sends her maid over to make an appointment to consult with Lucy when her majesty is in London.

Bodice detail of a dress Lucy named "Happiness"

Lucy’s natural ability to listen to what her clients want and her tact to advise on what would actually suit them are among her greatest gifts. She creates what she calls Dresses of Emotion, each designed for its individual wearer. She gives her favorite gowns names: Passion Flower’s First Kiss; The Sigh of Lips Unsatisfied, and A Dream of Endless Summer. She also develops a talent for publicity! 

Lucile Ltd. is one of the first fashion houses in London to introduce their new season’s models in a live mannequin show.

As a new century dawns Lucy is ready to prise women out of hard, unforgiving whalebone corsetry and into softer more alluring and female lines—her silky lingerie is displayed in the Rose Room of her new Hanover Square salon, on a bed once slept in by Louis XIV mistress the Marquise de Montespan.

Lucile was the first fashion house in London to introduce the new season's models in a live mannequin parade

When Lucy marries Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon, society is willing to accept that Lucy has reached the pinnacle of success. She may not be presented at court because she is a divorcee, and worst of all in trade, but she can, and does, open a fashion house in New York, Chicago and with unashamed audacity in Paris.

Truly, could life be more perfect? Lucy Duff Gordon has become one of the most sought after haute couturières of the early 1900s, but as history has taught us: change is constant. On one bitterly cold night in April 1912 a catastrophe of such magnitude occurs and changes the course of Lucy Duff Gordon’s life forever. And once again she must rise above social ostracization and public humiliation to find a way out of this dilemma to save not only her business, but her marriage.

~~~~~

Tessa Arlen writes historical fiction when she is not toiling away in her garden. She is the author of the Edwardian mystery series: Lady Montfort and Mrs. Jackson; the Woman of World War II mystery series. Poppy Redfern. And two standalone historical novels: In Royal Service to the Queen and A Dress of Violet Taffeta.






Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Historical Urban Myths by Deborah Swift

As a writer of historical fiction I am fascinated by the stories we inherit about history. Quite a few of these are 'urban myths' - stories that travel orally usually via bars or other social meeting grounds. I recently came across an entertaining one which apparently went viral across the internet in the 1980's. 

image of Titanic from www.bbc.co.uk
A Russian destroyer was on manoeuvres near Iceland when the captain spotted a strange dark shape on an iceberg floating some distance away. They went in closer for a better look and saw it was a woman, dressed in a long black dress and lying on her back. She was encased in a thin layer of ice.

A party of men including a physician went to investigate and spent almost an hour freeing her from the ice. However her outdated clothes showed she had perhaps been frozen for fifty years or more. In the pockets of the woman's coat were found a brooch, a purse with old english money, and a number of documents including one that said she was a passenger on the Titanic which had sunk off Newfoundland in 1912.

Upon being 'defrosted' the woman apparently opened her eyes, but attempts to resuscitate her failed.

Allegedly this event was hushed up and did not get the media attention it deserved because the Russian vessel should not have been in those waters and was acting illegally.
titanic1.jpg
Hearses lined up on Halifax wharf ready to take R.M.S. Titanic victims 
So how do I know it's a myth? Because of its unlikely nature. It is just too many unlikely coincidences. Yet this story could make a good novel with a little more detail and veracity. As a writer I am always attempting to make unlikely or dramatic events feel real to the reader. 

Most literature consists of unlikely events - too much plot for the average real life - yet good novels feel real. Some of this is to do with manipulating timing, so that unlikely events are spread well apart in the novel, some of it is because what could have been 'coincidences' are given good background reasons. For example it is a wild coincidence if the detective accidentally finds himself in the same hotel in a strange town as the killer, but not a coincidence if he has spent a whole book following him there. 

More detail, such as that found in old photographs like the one above of hearses waiting to carry recovered bodies away, helps to anchor the story in reality. Photo credit Of course (unsurprisingly) there is no photo of the woman found on the iceberg in the 1980's, but as a novelist I could use detail from old photographs such as this to help the reader imagine the scene.

Unlikely events feel more real if the characters act like human beings and acknowledge the strangeness and try to find a more plausible explanation.

But I think urban myths are fascinating and would love to hear your historical urban myths. (Bones of Richard III found in a city car park does not count!)

My two books are out now, click on the covers to read more about them.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Lloyds-- Lifeblood of British Commerce and Starbucks of its Day



by Linda Collison


Ships have always played a major role in the import and export of goods; even today, ninety percent of world trade travels by sea.[i]  Yet there are obvious risks to be assumed when deep water and Mother Nature, pirates and enemy ships are involved. 


HMS Lutine


The concept of maritime insurance is as old as civilization.  Thousands of years ago Chinese river traders minimized their risk by deliberately spreading their cargo throughout several ships.  The Babylonians practiced bottomry, an arrangement in which the ship master borrowed money upon the bottom of his vessel, and forfeited the ship itself to the creditor, if the money with interest was not paid upon the ship's safe return.
[ii] 

About 600 AD, Danish merchants began forming guilds to insure its members against losses at sea, and merchant cities such as Venice and Florence started using a form of mutual insurance recorded in documents.  The Lombards brought the concept of marine insurance to northern Europe and England in the 13th Century where the Hanseatic League further developed the means to protect their joint economic interests.
[iii] 

Permit me to fast-forward four hundred years to the 17th century; the rise of English merchants and the search for new markets abroad.  Let’s pop in to visit London, now an important trade center, and walk along the waterfront…
    

Lloyd’s of London began as a coffee shop on Tower Street, founded by Edward Lloyd in 1688.  His establishment, located near the waterfront, soon became a popular meeting place where ship owners and merchants could meet with financiers to discuss ways to match the risks they faced at sea with the capital needed to insure them.[iv]

Coffeehouses were then enjoying a great popularity in London and many other European cities.  By 1675 there were more than 3,000 of them throughout England.[v]  Coffeehouses were social places where men with similar interests met to exchange news and do business, while enjoying the stimulating brew.  Much like your corner Starbucks where friends surf for jobs on their laptops while sipping Frappuccino’s and interviews are conducted over Venti Iced Skinny Mochas, 17th century Londoners did business while getting buzzed on the bean.


Lloyds was never an insurance company, per se, but instead was a market – a regular gathering of people for the purchase and sale of provisions or other commodities.  At Lloyds coffeehouse merchants and shipmasters caught up on latest shipping news, bid on cargos of captured prizes, and obtained insurance for their ventures.  The underwriters, wealthy men referred to as “Names,” were the individuals who pledged their own money to insure a particular voyage.



In 1691 Edward Lloyd relocated his coffee house from Tower Street to Lombard Street, where a blue plaque hangs today.  The business carried on in this location until 1774 when the participating individuals moved to the Royal Exchange on Cornhill and called themselves the Society of Lloyds.  An Act of Parliament in 1871 gave the business a sound legal footing, incorporating it.  Although Ed Lloyd died in 1713, his name remains and is eponymous with the insurance of one-of-a-kind treasures, including Betty Grable’s legs and Bob Dylan’s vocal cords.
[vi]

The present Lloyd’s building, designed by architect Richard Rogers, was completed in 1986 on the site of the old roman forum on Lime Street.  In the rostrum hangs the original Lutine Bell.  Back in the days of the coffee shop, one of the waiters would strike the bell when the fate of an overdue ship became known.  If the ship was safe, the bell would be rung twice and if it had gone down, the bell would be rung only once, to stop buying, or selling of “overdue” reinsurance on that vessel.  ( To see an early Hollywood recreation of Lloyds watch the 1936 movie, Lloyds of London, with Tyrone Power in his first starring role.)



In his book, The Romance of Lloyd’s, Commander Frank Worsley (of the Shackleton Expedition) sings the praises of Lloyds, crediting the association with various philanthropic efforts, including the development of the lifeboat service in Britain.  In 1802 Lloyds members voted a donation of one hundred guineas to Henry Greathead, the inventor of the first practical lifeboat and set aside two thousand pounds for the provision of lifeboats on English and Irish coasts.
[vii]  
Modern lifeboat in Howth, Ireland


Lloyds was also instrumental in the creation of a Patriotic Fund in 1803, granting bounties or annuities to wounded men and the dependents of those killed in battle. Lloyds headed the fund with twenty thousand pounds, although the record shows that laborers, servants, schooled children, soldiers and sailors, sent their pence and more.  Officers and men of the Army and Navy contributed sums ranging from one day’s pay to a whole month.  A provisional committee was appointed to manage the Fund, which became a national institution.”
[viii]
Slavers throwing overboard the Dead and Dying — Typhoon coming on 
The Slave Ship -- J.M.W. Turner artist

On a much darker note, Lloyds was heavily involved insuring ships in the slave trade as Britain became the chief trading power in the Atlantic.  Between 1688 and 1807, when slave-trading was abolished, British shipping carried more than 3.25 million people into slavery.[ix]  It may be argued that the individual men who underwrote slave ships acted within the laws of the time and reflected the values of the society in which they lived, yet descendants of black American slaves have accused the Lloyd’s of London insurance market (and two United States companies) of profiting from the slave trade in a lawsuit seeking billions of pounds in damages.[x]  The past can indeed come back to haunt us.



Lloyds has always worked closely with the Royal Navy to the benefit of both.  Historian Steven Maffeo relates how the insurance market and the British Post Office were important to the Navy’s intelligence gathering throughout the Napoleonic Wars, the news of the victory at Trafalgar being posted at Lloyd’s even before the London newspapers broke the story.  During the 18th century Lloyds developed a unique system of maritime intelligence of arrivals and departures which was sent immediately to the Admiralty, who in turn forwarded convoy and other useful information to Lloyds.
[xi]
Bark Endeavour, a vessel similar to Canopus in Barbados Bound

Convoy, the practice of escorting groups of merchant ships by a naval warship, was common practice during the war years of the 18th, 19th, and early 20th centuries, to reduce the loss of ships and cargo to the Enemy.  At the beginning of my novel Barbados Bound the merchant ship Canopus is carrying gunpowder and traveling in convoy from England to Madeira during the Seven Years War.  From Madeira Canopus must strike out alone across the Atlantic to delivery the gunpowder on time – and of course Murphy’s Law intervenes.  Shipmaster Blake says that his ship’s guns are his insurance, though of course they would be no real match against a French privateer, hungry for prize.



Lloyds Register is filled with stories of profit -- and disaster.  The sinking of the “unsinkable” Titanic in 1912 represented one of Lloyd’s biggest losses, along with other major catastrophes such as the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake, the attack on New York’s World Trade Center, Hurricane Katrina, Asbestos damage claims, and the 2011 Tohuku earthquake and tsunami.[xii]  The history of Lloyds is a fascinating one, and still evolving.  Wherever there is risk and money to be made, you’ll find the name Lloyds. 


Linda Collison is the author of Barbados Bound and Surgeon's Mate; the Patricia MacPherson Nautical Adventure Series (Fireship Press.)  Read more on her website, lindacollison.com.  Linda is one of the speakers at the 2012 Historical Novel Society Convention in London.



[ii][ii] ibid
[vii] Worsley, Frank and Griffith, Glyn.  The Romance of Lloyd’s; from coffee-house to palace.  New York; Hillman-Curl Inc., 1937; pp.16, 99.
[viii] Worsely, pp 164-166.
[xi] Maffeo, Steven.  Most Secret and Confidential; Intelligence in the Age of Nelson. London; Chatham, 2000, pp30-31.