Rendell - In Bed with the Georgians

Love in her eyes sits dreaming.

Sex, Scandal and Satire in the 18th Century

Mike Rendell

First published in Great Britain in 2016 by

Pen & Sword History

an imprint of

Pen & Sword Books Ltd

47 Church Street

Barnsley

South Yorkshire

S70 2AS

Copyright Mike Rendell 2016

ISBN 978 1 47383 774 4

eISBN 978 1 47388 438 0

Mobi ISBN 978 1 47388 437 3

The right of Mike Rendell to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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O bserving the events of 1750, Londoner Richard Hall noted in his journal that an earthquake was felt in the capital on Thursday 8 February and again on 8 March at 5.30 in the morning, i.e. precisely one month later.

Earthquakes are not, of course, common in the London area. Scientificallyminded people at the time were able to conjecture that immediately below the earths surface there was a void a honeycomb of air pockets and that from time-to-time violent winds, or possibly flames, or water, or maybe all of the above, would rush through these pockets causing quakes on the surface. The Gentlemans Magazine was able to inform its anxious readers that there were three types of quake: the Inclination, where the earth vibrated from side to side; the Pulsation where it shook up and down; and the Tremor when it shakes and quivers every way like a flame.

But the Church was having none of this scientific mumbo-jumbo. The Bishop of London, Thomas Sherlock, wrote to all his clergymen calling on them to inform their flocks of the true reason for the earthquakes: Divine displeasure at pornography. In fact the word had only recently been coined, from Greek roots meaning writing about . Were these quakes not immediately directed against London, the sinful city? After all, nowhere else experienced the tremors. Was it not a reflection of the Lords wrath at the publication of The Memoirs of Fanny Hill , this vile book, the lewdest thing I ever saw? as the Bishop put it.

Have not the histories of the vilest prostitutes been published? he bellowed from the pulpit, going on to have a swipe at swearing and blasphemy, and at the unnatural lewdness for which God had destroyed Sodom, and for the constant publication of books which challenged the great truths of religion.

Before long, rumours swept the Capital that these two minor quakes were warning signs, precursors of the big one which would surely be unleashed on London exactly one month later. And so it was that on 8 April 1750, large swathes of the population tried to leave the City with their worldly belongings stacked high in wheel-barrows, hand-carts whatever was available. The result was chaos, a total gridlock which lasted until nightfall, when everyone sheepishly trudged home.

The story illustrates several interesting points about the eighteenth century the so-called Age of Reason. Many of the long-held beliefs of the day were in fact mere superstitions dressed up as scientific proof. Pornography caused earthquakes; masturbation caused blindness; having sex with a young virgin would cure venereal disease (a sort of reverse infection the man could catch the goodness from the virgin, and this would drive out the evil). It was generally believed that a woman could spontaneously catch venereal disease from having sex with healthy males, and then infect their male partners. No-one thought that the man was in any way to blame it was entirely the womans fault. In treating venereal disease there was no distinction made between syphilis, gonorrhoea or other sexually transmitted diseases and treatment invariably involved either ingesting or applying mercury, often with fatal results. The medical profession still adhered to the vestiges of the ideas of ancient Greece. Hippocrates in his book On the Nature of Man had described the four fluids humours which made up the human body, namely: blood, yellow bile, black bile and phlegm. Any imbalance between these humours could cause illness. Writing a century after the birth of Christ, Galen developed the idea of the four humours characterised by a combination of hot, cold, moist and dry qualities and identified them with four temperaments sanguine, choleric, melancholic and phlegmatic. Men were considered to be predominately cold and dry whereas in women hot and moist dominated.

Medical ignorance extended to a staggering lack of knowledge about human reproduction and the menstrual cycle. Folk lore and old wives tales took the place of family planning. Drinking the water from a local smithy, where red-hot iron and molten lead would have been plunged into butts of water by the blacksmith, was believed to prevent pregnancy. Eating strawberries in pregnancy would cause the baby to be born with birthmarks, and eating lobsters could result in your progeny having claw feet. Beware of being frightened by a hare while pregnant or your child would be born with a hare-lip. Avoid intercourse on the stairs, or your child would suffer from a hunched back.

Superstition and confidence tricks went hand-in-hand, as in the curious case of Mary Tofts. It was in November 1726 that a story broke in Mists Weekly Journal that a young woman from Godalming had given birth to a rabbit. Or rather, various rabbit parts. The story quickly became famous, not least because the newspaper which Nathaniel Mist published had a reported readership of 20,000 a week, and the public lapped up details of the remarkable story. More rabbits were delivered from under a blanket by the poor young woman, who had secreted the rabbit parts up her vagina, presumably in an attempt to gain fame (and fortune). Doctors examined her, and astonishingly did not dismiss the fakery out of hand. News reached the ear of King George I. Intrigued, the king sent Nathaniel St. Andr, the surgeon to the Royal household, to check out the story. He appears to have been taken in by the deception, and it was another month before the true story emerged. The medical profession was lampooned mercilessly and William Hogarth produced an etching entitled Cunicularii, or The Wise Men of Godliman in Consultation (1726), showing the labour throes of Mary Toft surrounded by St Andr and the other dupes.