Kristi here. As long as people have been having children, there has been the question of what to do with them if the parents die before the child can care for themselves. In Regency England that care depended greatly on who your parents had been.
Orphanages were frequently reserved for the poor or poorly connected. Those with higher connections and particularly those with money and property became wards, but the assignment of the guardian was not always simple.
Early 19th Century painting of the Court of Chancery, via wikimedia commons
The father was the only person able to assign a guardian for his children should he die too early. If his will didn’t state who it was to be, the choice fell to the Court of Chancery. The court could also in extreme cases overrule the father’s choice of guardian.
If the child had property and money the court cared a great deal more than if the child didn’t. If there was no material wealth, then the court didn’t get very involved unless someone made a ruckus. If no one sued over the child, then the court was likely to leave them with whoever wanted to care for the child, such as a stepfather who had no legal right to his deceased wife’s children from a previous marriage.
The appointed guardian was usually the most closely related person that could not inherit from the child. The court was very concerned about the child being coerced out of his inheritance by a guardian or through marriage. If the child was a minor and the court did not approve of the marriage, it was considered non-existent, particularly if the child were male.
Adoption as we know it today did not exist during the Regency time period, though it was not unheard of for a ward to be treated as a son or daughter and even inherit certain things from their guardian, unless of course there was a title involved. Titles had to move along bloodlines.
After the age of 14 the child could have a say in who their guardian was, but many children didn’t know this and felt they had to go along with whoever the court appointed. There were also instances where someone might have been appointed the guardian but someone else actually cared for the child (such as a brother or sister). This wasn’t an issue unless legal things such as permission to marry were involved.
Since the Court of Chancery was exceptionally bogged down and notoriously slow about things, they tended to ignore whatever didn’t involve titles, property, or angry people. As long as nothing untoward was happening and no one objected, guardianship of well-to-do but penniless people could be decided by society.
A working or middle class family might take in a neighbor’s child out of love or a wish for another pair of hands. There was no legal ramifications for this unless someone sued.
This lack of oversight comes into play my novella coming out in July. A Lady of Esteem is a complete story – no cliffhangers! – offered free as a preview to the upcoming Hawthorne House series. If you’re on Goodreads, hop over here and add the book to your to-read shelf. If 250 people add it, I’ll do an early release of Chapter One on my webpage.
*The assignment of wards and guardians and trustees could get very complicated. This is a very high level look at how guardianship was handled. For more information on the Court of Chancery, there are several books available through Google books that go into the formation and responsibilities of this particular court. Here are some other websites that go into greater detail about the types of guardians: Regency Researcher and Word Wenches
Hello, my Regency-loving friends. Interesting, isn’t it, that the actual Regency last only from 1811-1820, but the periods before and after can also be considered part of the era? When trying to explain to the uninitiated, what the Regency is, I’ll often bring up Jane Austen. I find that most, but not all, have heard of the book Pride and Prejudice and they can get a grasp on what kind of fiction genre I am writing.
So, to bring Jane Austen alive again, in our minds only, I bring you some of her delicious quotes.
Originally posted on All Things Georgian: ‘Maid of all work’ – courtesy of Lewis Walpole Library ? Many of our posts take a look at the upper echelons of Georgian society, so this time we thought it might be interesting to look at what it would have been like to have worked ‘below stairs’ as…
Last September I had the privilege of attending the Jane Austen Festival in Bath, England. I know, right? SQUEE! And best of all, they had a period clothing parade that broke a Guinness Book of World Records for most people dressed in Regency era styles. Want to see what I saw?
It is a truth universally acknowledged that websites are like sharks: they must continually move forward or die.* So it’s time for AustenBlog to make with the fin and big teeth. Those who have read Deborah Yaffe’s delightful book Among the Janeites already know that I have been planning to shut down AustenBlog for a…
Camy here! Lately I bought a hand-made Regency-style dress from my friend and Steampunk author, Shelley Adina, (it was a steal because she didn’t want it anymore) and so now I’ve been looking for accessories. (I’ll post pics of the dress soon!)
I realized that the blue dress is perfect for some lacy gloves I had made for myself a while ago. Actually, I originally made these gloves because Shelley had wanted opera gloves (designated “16-button gloves” even though there aren’t actually 16 buttons on the gloves) for when she goes Regency dancing, and I made my gloves as a test run before making Shelley’s.
These are a pale blue lace-weight alpaca yarn, although the original pattern called for crochet cotton. I also had to extrapolate a bit to extend the gloves beyond my elbow.
The gloves have pearl buttons at the wrist because Shelley had requested that, for ease of removing the hand portion when she has to eat. I found out later that the button slit is actually Victorian, and not Regency, but it’s extremely practical, don’t you think?
I’m rather proud of these gloves because they’re just so pretty! 🙂 I’m also so excited that they’re light blue, which matches the gown I just bought!
If you’ve ever read a Regency-set novel, you’ve no doubt run across a description of the heroine’s clothing. It’s one of those things we do. But have you ever stopped to wonder what makes an afternoon dress different from a carriage dress? Or a ball gown different from a dinner gown?
Here is a rundown of a few of the qualities that make a Regency dress fit for the proper occasion.
Morning Dress
Morning dresses were used for just that. Morning. They weren’t meant for company or for going out. They were the yoga pants of Regency England. They were plain, unadorned, and frequently made of thinner, cheaper materials than a woman’s other clothes. Silhouette-wise, morning dresses were the same as any other day dress, though they were replaced less frequently given that no one cared whether or not their morning dress was fashionable.
Often times, an old afternoon dress might have the trim salvaged off of it before being used as a morning dress.
Afternoon Dress
Which then does beg the question of what makes an Afternoon Dress.
Afternoon dresses were meant to be seen. Afternoons were for going visiting or walking in the park. As these were still day dresses, they had high necklines and full length sleeves. They would, however, been trimmed and fitted to the best of a lady’s fashion ability.
There were several types of afternoon dresses as there were several types of activities one could participate in during the afternoon.
Walking or Promenade Dress
Often the most decorative of the afternoon dresses, a walking dress was for strolling among the masses. Because they were meant to be noticed, care was taken to make sure they were flattering and impressive.
They weren’t, however, always practical since they followed the fashion of the day like everything else, including when it came to the length of the train.
Carriage or Traveling Dress
Carriage dresses were made of heavier fabrics, intended to put up with the stress of traveling by coach for long periods of time. The cotton muslin frequently used in walking dresses was prone to wrinkle. Carriage dresses were also less trimmed, since those could get crushed while traveling, particularly if your coach was full of companions.
Riding Habits
Riding habits were very sturdy, very simple, and very modest. They would have very full skirts to drape over the lady’s legs while riding side saddle.
Evening Dress
Evening dresses were the finest dresses in a lady’s wardrobe. The fabrics were thinner than the afternoon dress but were also much finer. Silks, satins, light taffetas, and very fine muslins were the fabrics of choice. Sleeves were frequently shorter and bodices were cut lower.
The different types of evening dress were indicated more by the level of embellishment than by the style. A lady’s ball gowns would be trimmed and embroidered to the utmost fashion, with the intention of catching the light as well as the gentleman. Many ball gowns were actually two gowns, with a sheerer gown worn over another. The bottom gown was sometimes colored and the top layer might only fall 3/4 of the way down the skirt, allowing the embellished hem of the underdress to show.
Opera gowns and dinner dresses were, by comparison, a bit simpler. They were still made of fine fabrics, still cut to show off more than a day dress, but were not intended to be quite as impressive as the ball gown.
Court Gowns
Court gowns were worn for the very special and rare occasion that a young lady went to the royal court. These gowns were a throwback to a bygone era, forgetting fashion entirely in the name of tradition. Wide, hooped skirts, long trains, and overly elaborate hair decorations ruled the court.
When people tried to mix these traditions with modern fashions you ended up with some very silly looking high-waisted gowns with elaborate bell-like skirts.
With all these dresses, it’s a wonder that Regency ladies ever got anything done besides changing their clothes.
…Back from an absence of about four months (that pesky tax job). Since I enjoy Camy’s posts on older regency books so much, I am bringing you info about a book, and its author, and telling you about her extensive and delicious back-list of regency reading fun (over 90 titles). If the author Marion Chesney is not familiar to you — get thee to a bookstore — or library in this case — since she isn’t (boo-hoo) writing regencies anymore.
No, she now only writes fabulously popular cozy mysteries now and you may know her as M.C. Beaton. However, her regencies are GREAT, and with some digging, are still available to the avid fan. She’s got some of her backlist out as e-books lately, too.
Chesney’s debut (writing under her own name) book, which I happen to own, is “The Poor Relation.” Heroine and former debutante Amaryllis Duvane’s fortunes have sunk low and she is reduced to the status of serving her wealthier relatives. Her past love, the Marquess of Merechester, shows up to court one of these wicked stepsister types, and the drama begins.
I’ll happily admit to being a huge fan of Chesney, in all her genres. But the chance to read one of her first efforts makes me admire her career trajectory even more. As one familiarizes oneself with her work, it’s clear that as she gained publishing popularity and confidence, more and more of Chesney’s delicious humor comes out on the page. I can only hope to instigate half as many snickers for my own readers…someday…when I make my debut!
If you’ve ever enjoyed Chesney’s regencies, please add a comment.
What do you get when you mix a shade of the darker side of Regency London with a quick-witted lawman? Nicholas Brentwood—a hero who’s a little rough around the edges, colorful as a Dickens character, and observant enough to be a forerunner of Sherlock. But he’s not just any lawman . . . He’s a Bow Street Runner.
Traditionally, male householders in London were expected to police the streets in their neighborhood, and every citizen was to report anyone they witnessed committing a crime. This changed in the eighteenth century because of increasing concerns about the threat of dangerous criminals who were attracted by the growing wealth of London’s middle class.
Prompted by a post-war crime wave in 1749, Magistrate Henry Fielding hired a small group of men to locate and arrest serious offenders. He operated out of No. 4 Bow Street, hence the name “Bow Street Runners.”
Fielding petitioned the government and received funding, but even so, he soon ran out of money to pay these men a worthy salary. Still, the runners were committed to justice, so they took on odd jobs such as watchmen or detectives for hire or even—as in the case of Nicholas Brentwood—guarding people or treasures.
What attracted my interest as an author was an old newspaper advertisement put out by Fielding. It encouraged the public to send a note to Bow Street as soon as any serious crime occurred so that “a set of brave fellows could immediately be dispatched in pursuit of the villains.” I wondered about those “brave fellows” and what kind of villains they might come up against, and thus was born Nicholas Brentwood.
Despite Bow Street’s efforts, most Londoners were opposed to the development of an organized police force. The English tradition of local government was ingrained deep, and they feared the loss of individual liberty. So, as gallant as the Runners were in tracking down criminals, the general public did not always view them in a positive light. Even the nickname given them by the public—Bow Street Runners—was considered derogatory and was a title the officers never used to refer to themselves.
Bow Street eventually gave way to the Metropolitan Police, and by 1839, the Runners were completely disbanded. But that doesn’t mean they don’t live on in the fictional realm. See if you can match wits with an experienced lawman as he tracks down a dangerous criminal in BRENTWOOD’S WARD . . .
There’s none better than NICHOLAS BRENTWOOD at catching the felons who ravage London’s streets, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing justice carried out—but this time he’s met his match. Beautiful and beguiling EMILY PAYNE is more treacherous than a city full of miscreants and thugs, for she’s a thief of the highest order…she’s stolen his heart.
Available in paperback, ebook, and audiobook formats at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other fine booksellers. But even better is that here’s your chance to WIN AN AUDIOBOOK! Hurry, though. This drawing ends tomorrow, April 17th.
Flying home from the Historical Novel Society conference, I learned a lesson in indoctrination. I’m on a fast-moving deadline for a special project, but I had to go. HNS holds a special place for me. My very first HNS conference changed the trajectory of my life.
Before attending in 2019, I published lovely Regency romances. Sweet, comforting, polite novels—educating the world through fun, nonthreatening, history-filled reads.
But HNS cracked something open. Meeting a tribe of fellow history nerds and selling the book I never thought I’d sell—Island Queen, the biographical fiction about Dorothy Kirwan Thomas, one of the richest Black women in the Georgian world, a woman who bought her freedom and defies every rule and obstacle to live freely—that gave me the courage to keep telling stories that tug at my heart and mind.
Being free to create is a gift. One that’s hard to achieve. Black and brown creators, and women creators, have been indoctrinated, fed rules in the simplest of terms that challenge our freedom. Rules such as:
* That more ethnic the cover, the more it can impact book sales—or determine where a book gets shelved.
* That a pen name that sounds like a man’s carries more heft.
* That “historical accuracy” will be weaponized to silence you if you make one mistake.
* That if you fail, your failure will become the reason the next person who looks like you gets turned away.
You’ll never know how much that last one haunted me. How it still probably drives me to go the extra mile.
And I share all this to say: we’ve all been indoctrinated by our circumstances.
Writers learn quickly by how we’ve been treated—and how we’ve seen others treated—in publishing. It’s hard to break the pattern. And it’s about logic. It’s 1 + 1 = 2 when one sees patterns repeating.
And you, the listener—you’ve been indoctrinated.
Certain patterns, behaviors, even thoughts have been ingrained through images and repetition. This was made clear to me on my flight home.
Flying back from Vegas, Atlanta’s weather did not cooperate. Several delays and cancellations later, I was finally on my way but rerouted through Minneapolis. I’d arrived in Atlanta with just a four-hour delay and a bump up to first class. All was good.
But I wasn’t prepared for the real lesson I’d take from that flight.
An older gentleman sat beside me. The moment we took off, he flicked on his monitor and tuned into the news. He looked like a typical executive—loafers, golf watch, faint aftershave. He popped in his headphones, stared at the screen, and then drifted off to sleep.
I was writing but I couldn’t help watching. Something about flickering images in my periphery always pulls me in. For ten minutes, I stared at his monitor. No sound—just headlines and smiling faces discussing stories that disturbed me.
Ice raids with masked men capturing women on the street. The host smiled.Florida detention camps pop onto the screen. The smiling host makes it appear to be a pitch for a Disney vacation.
And my neighbor slept. Peacefully. Whatever was being whispered in his ear lulled him into calm.
I sat there gobsmacked.
This is indoctrination.
Indoctrination is subtle, yet powerful.It’s not about shouting.It’s about repeating.It’s about phrasing.It’s about making you feel safe while you’re being lulled into believing counterintuitive things.
The TV’s formula was simple:
* Repeat the same emotionally charged themes again and again.
* Print aggressive words: sue, threaten, destroy, take back, fight for your children.
* Paint the other side as monsters trying to take away your rights—your autonomy, your voice, your values.
* Frame reasonable actions as extreme.
* Show flags. Cue nostalgia. Stir something primal.
* Smile while doing it.
And the man next to me? He slept. Fully content. The world whispering in his ear made sense. That’s when I understood the terrifying genius of it.
People aren’t being brainwashed. They’re being comforted—soothed by simple stories, a few buzzwords, and a familiar rhythm.
In this whispering world, empathy is suspect.Fairness? A threat.Truth? Conditional.
How else do you explain people cheering for a roofer—someone who rebuilt their home after a hurricane—being rounded up and sent to a detention camp being pictured as a theme park?
What happened to questioning things?When did we decide that cruelty is an acceptable solution?Why is it okay to sleep through someone else’s pain?
Be awake.
Don’t let anyone tell you you’re overreacting.You’re not a sucker for caring. You’re human.
And to my fellow protestors and change-makers: we can’t just fight with facts and five-point plans. Shame doesn’t move people. Complexity doesn’t sway them.
If your message makes them feel stupid, they’ll dig in and side with the whisperers.
So what can we do?
We make the stakes as clear as possible.
We must give up the five-dollar words.Because those words only land with the most liberal among us. And as Nicole Hannah-Jones wrote in her recent New York Times essay, How Trump Upended 60 Years of Civil Rights in Two Months, citing scholar Ian Haney López—the rapid decline in support for DEI came from liberals. Particularly white liberals. Those skeptical of diversity. Those sympathetic to complaints about “wokeness.”
It hurts. On so many levels. Who is actually an ally?We had the George Floyd awakening, the feel-good changes… and then people voted against their better angels—for cheap eggs all while rolling back the good changes.
It’s going to take me a while to believe in allyship again.
And the lack of big words hurts because I love big words. I love nuance. But I’d rather be heard than admired for my vocabulary. I’d rather reach the “gettable” than preach to the choir, a choir who might be full of whisperers.
So:Use simple language.Simple signs.Drop the jargon.Focus on why it matters to them.
And alas, poor Yorick—and Vanessa—we must keep it simple.
Maybe then we can re-indoctrinate the world to be good.For once.For all.
This anthology reframes American history by placing the consequences of slavery and the contributions of Black Americans at the very center of the national narrative and reveals how deeply racial ideology—and indoctrination—are woven into the fabric in the U.S.
Help me build momentum for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female pirates in the 1600s. This sweeping saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title.
Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast.
You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.
Let’s keep rising and creating together—like, subscribe, and share. Please stay connected to Write of Passage.”
Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley
This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe
Carriage or Traveling Dress
