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Tuesday, 18 August 2020

Regency introductions - a Regency History guide

Sir William presents Elizabeth Bennet to Mr Darcy as a desirable partner by C E Brock (1895) From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1895 edition)
Sir William presents Elizabeth Bennet to Mr Darcy as a desirable partner
by C E Brock (1895) From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1895 edition)
If you have read a Regency romance or watched one of the many Austen adaptations on television or film, you are probably familiar with the concept of an introduction. The hero might go to a ball and ask a common acquaintance to introduce him to the heroine. But a Regency introduction meant more than just learning someone’s name.
What is an introduction?
An introduction is exactly what it sounds like – where one person is introduced or presented to another. Today, if we go to a party or a networking event, a mutual friend might introduce us to someone we don’t know, but it is acceptable, if we are brave enough, to introduce ourselves and expect the person to introduce themselves back.
In the Regency, it was not as simple as that. It is hard for us to get our heads around the significance of an introduction. It meant more than knowing someone’s name. If you allowed someone to be presented to you, then you were accepting the relationship.
According to Freeling’s The Pocket Book of Etiquette (1837):
A proper introduction entitles you to the good offices of the person to whom you are introduced; it is therefore a circumstance of importance, and the necessary forms must be attended to.1
Until a formal introduction had taken place, it was as if two people did not know each other.
In Fanny Burney’s Cecilia (1782), Delvile begged Cecilia to introduce him to the Harrels:
Young Delvile, after painting in lively colours the loss his house had sustained by her quitting it, and dwelling with equal force upon the regret of his mother and his own, asked in a low voice if she would do him so much honour as to introduce him to Mr Harrel; “As the son,” added he, “of a brother guardian, I think I have a kind of claim to his acquaintance.”
Cecilia could not refuse, though as the request was likely to occasion more frequent meetings, she persuaded herself she was unwilling to comply. The ceremony therefore past, and was again repeated with Mrs Harrel, who, though she had several times seen him, had never been formally made known to him.2
Once the introduction had been made, the relationship could begin:
Mean time young Delvile failed not to honour Cecilia's introduction of him to Mr Harrel, by waiting upon that gentleman as soon as the ill effects of his accident at the Pantheon permitted him to leave his own house.3
An introduction as a recommendation
In a formal setting, a third party was always involved. The third party was recommending one person to another. In Cecilia, Delvile wanted to introduce a friend of his to his mother:
Will you, madam, when he is recovered, permit me to introduce him to you?”
“Certainly;” said she, smiling; “but have a care your recommendation does not disgrace your discernment.”4
At balls, the introducing role could be taken by an official person, such as a patroness at Almack’s or the Master of Ceremonies at the Assembly Rooms in Bath. In Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey (1817), this is how Catherine Morland was introduced to Henry Tilney:
They made their appearance in the Lower Rooms; and here fortune was more favourable to our heroine. The master of the ceremonies introduced to her a very gentlemanlike young man as a partner; his name was Tilney.5
Mr Tilney is presented to Catherine Morland in Northanger Abbey by H M Brock (1898) from The Novels and Letters of Jane Austen ed by R Brimley Johnson (1906)
Mr Tilney is presented to Catherine Morland in
Northanger Abbey by H M Brock (1898) from The Novels and Letters of Jane Austen ed by R Brimley Johnson (1906)
After dancing with Henry at the Assembly Rooms, it was up to Catherine whether the relationship continued.

Quoting Lord Chesterfield in The Pocket Book of Etiquette, Freeling advised gentlemen:
If you wish to dance with any lady with whom you are unacquainted, you must apply to the master of the ceremonies for an introduction; and if there be no manifest difference of station, he will introduce you. Recollect, however, that your acquaintance with the lady ceases with the dance; therefore, should you ever meet her, you must not attempt to address her, unless she should first bow; then you will merely lift your hat, and return the salute.6
The rules of introductions
A book that many Regency writers refer to is Manners and Rules of Good Society by a member of the aristocracy. However, it was first published in the late 19th century and so has its roots in Victorian etiquette, not Georgian. The same rules probably applied, but customs change over time, so we cannot be sure.
Another book that I’ve used to help inform my thinking is Black’s Titles and Forms of Address – but that’s even worse, as it was published in the 20th century!
We can certainly pick up some guidelines from earlier books on etiquette, such as Reverend Dr John Trusler’s A System of Etiquette (1804) and Arthur Freeling’s The Pocket Book of Etiquette (1837), but they don’t have the answers to all my questions.
The basic rules are:
1.  A gentleman is always presented to a lady.
2. A person of lower rank is always presented to a person of higher rank.
The idea is that the lady or more important person can decline the introduction.
So, at a ball, a lady, or her chaperon, could refuse an introduction to someone whose acquaintance was considered undesirable. By accepting an introduction, the lady was welcoming the relationship and would be expected to dance with the gentleman, unless she was not dancing at all or already engaged to dance.
Likewise, a person of rank could refuse to be introduced to an ill-bred person. By accepting the introduction, they were accepting their society.
In Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (1813), Elizabeth Bennet was horrified when her cousin Mr Collins proposed to introduce himself to Mr Darcy, his superior in rank:
“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr Darcy!”
“Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.”
Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side; and that if it were, it must belong to Mr Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr Collins listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination.7
Mr Collins’s presumption was accorded a frosty response:
And with a low bow he left her to attack Mr Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words “apology,” “Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed her to see him expose himself to such a man. Mr Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr Collins allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr Darcy’s contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way.8
Mr Collins introduces himself to Mr Darcy by C E Brock (1895) from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1895 edition)
Mr Collins introduces himself to Mr Darcy
by C E Brock (1895)
from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1895 edition)
In Persuasion (1817), Sir Walter Elliot, as the superior in rank, began an acquaintance with his heir, the young Mr Elliot:
Soon after Lady Elliot's death, Sir Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtures had not been met with any warmth, he had persevered in seeking it, making allowance for the modest drawing-back of youth; and, in one of their spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr Elliot had been forced into the introduction.
He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the law; and Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour was confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of and expected all the rest of the year; but he never came.9
Obviously, there are occasions when these rules clash, where the gentleman is of higher rank than the lady. In this situation, sex trumps rank.
Early in Pride and Prejudice (1813), Mr Darcy, although superior in rank to everyone in the room, would have been introduced to a prospective dance partner. However, he
…declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.10
The exception to this rule is where there is a significant age difference between the parties. In these situations, sex and rank may give way to age.
For example, in Northanger Abbey (1817), Catherine Morland was introduced to General Tilney, who was older and superior to her in rank, though she was a lady:
The affair thus happily settled, she [Catherine] was introduced by Miss Tilney to her father, and received by him with such ready, such solicitous politeness as recalled Thorpe's information to her mind, and made her think with pleasure that he might be sometimes depended on.11
Mr Wickham is introduced to the Bennet girls by C E Brock (1895) From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1895 edition)
Mr Wickham is introduced to the Bennet girls
by C E Brock (1895)
From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1895 edition)
The wording of Regency introductions
Manners and Rules of Good Society (1888) stated that:
The correct formula in use when making introductions would be to say, ‘Mrs X – Lady Z,’ thus mentioning the name of the lady of lowest rank first, as she is the person introduced to the lady of highest rank. It would be unnecessary and vulgar to repeat the names of the two ladies in a reversed manner – thus, ‘Mrs X – Lady Z. Lady Z – Mrs X.’12
I find this wording unnatural. I would tend to address the higher ranked person first, and then mention the name of the lower ranked person being introduced. However, it is hard to tell what was said in practice as contemporary novels rarely give the actual wording used. 
In contrast, modern-day Regency romance writers often give detailed accounts of introductions and the normal approach is the double introduction. I have read that introductions should go in pairs, but this quote seems to contradict it. Which is correct?
In most cases that I have looked at, the lower ranked/younger/male person is presented to the upper ranked/older/female person with no suggestion that the introduction is reciprocal. 
For example, in Jane Austen’s Emma (1815), Frank Churchill is introduced to Emma. There is no suggestion that Emma was also introduced to Frank:
The Frank Churchill so long talked of, so high in interest, was actually before her—he was presented to her, and she did not think too much had been said in his praise; he was a very good looking young man.13
So, were double introductions a thing?
I have come across a few examples of what you could call double introductions.
In Northanger Abbey (1817):
The young ladies were introduced to each other, Miss Tilney expressing a proper sense of such goodness, Miss Morland with the real delicacy of a generous mind making light of the obligation.14
In Fanny Burney’s Cecilia (1782):
“Miss Beverley, then,” said the father, “I must present to you Mr Mortimer Delvile, my son; and, Mortimer, in Miss Beverley I desire you will remember that you respect a ward of your father's.”15
1. Freeling, Arthur, The Pocket Book of Etiquette (Liverpool, 1837).
2. Burney, Fanny, Cecilia or Memoirs of an Heiress (1782).
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey (1817).
6. Freeling op cit.
7. Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813).
8. Ibid.
9. Austen, Jane, Persuasion (1817).
10. Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813).
11. Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey (1817).
12. A Member of the Aristocracy, Manners and Rules of Good Society (1888).
13. Austen, Jane, Emma (1815).
14. Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey (1817).
15. Burney, Fanny, Cecilia or Memoirs of an Heiress (1782).
Sources used include:
A Member of the Aristocracy, Manners and Rules of Good Society (1888)
A Member of the Aristocracy, Manners and Tones of Good Society (c1880)
Austen, Jane, Emma (1815)
Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey (1817)
Austen, Jane, Persuasion (1817)
Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813)
Black, Adam and Charles (publishers), Titles and forms of address - a guide to their correct use (9th edition) (1955)
Burney, Fanny, Cecilia or Memoirs of an Heiress (1782)
Freeling, Arthur, The Ladies' Pocket Book of Etiquette (7th edition) (1840)
Freeling, Arthur, The Pocket Book of Etiquette (1837)
Trusler, Rev Dr John, A System of Etiquette (1804)

Thursday, 11 June 2020

Marriage of minors in Regency England

Detail from Merton College, Oxford: a marriage ceremony in the chapel by J Buck (1813) after AC Pugin - Wellcome Collection (CC BY 4.0)
Detail from Merton College, Oxford: a marriage ceremony
 in the chapel
by J Bluck (1813) after AC Pugin
Wellcome Collection used under Creative Commons Licence (CC BY 4.0)
If a young lady or gentleman wanted to get married in Regency England while they were a minor, that is before they came ‘of age’, they needed the permission of their parent or guardian.

When did a Regency person come ‘of age’?

The age of majority during the Regency was 21 years old. It was only reduced to the age of 18 relatively recently, in 1970.

Was parental permission always necessary?

Parental permission for the marriage of minors was required for all weddings in England except where the underage party had been married before.

Marriage by licence

To obtain either a common marriage licence or a special licence for the marriage of underage persons, permission was required from a parent or guardian of each underage person. Either party to the wedding or a third party had to give a sworn statement that this permission had been given before the licence could be granted.

If they lied about having parental consent, the marriage could be set aside.

Marriage by banns

The dance of death: the wedding by T Rowlandson (1816) Wellcome Collection by Creative Commons (CC BY 4.0)
The dance of death: the wedding by T Rowlandson (1816)
Wellcome Collection
Used under Creative Commons Licence (CC BY 4.0)
Explicit permission was NOT required for the banns to be read, but a parent or guardian of a previously unmarried underage party could forbid the banns. As banns had to be read out over three Sundays in the parish church that the couple attended, or in both parish churches if the couple were from different parishes, it was deemed that the parents or guardians had plenty of time to object to the marriage if they wanted to. If they did not forbid the banns, they could not later object to the marriage.

It would appear, however, that some unscrupulous persons tried to ignore this if it was in their interests to do so.

Ackermann’s Repository (January 1815) reported the sad case of Elizabeth Chandler, the daughter of a respectable tradesman:
Four years since, I became acquainted with John P –; we walked out together, we sat next to each other at every holiday meeting, and, in short, I soon began to have a particular affection for him; and as he was constantly at our house, I always treated him as the man who would become one day my loving husband. This, sir, at length was realized, and this day month I uttered the vow, which he also pronounced at the same altar, to cherish each other till death should us part. 

For a whole fortnight did we live, at least if I may judge of his feelings by my own, as happy as sincere love could make us: at the end of this period, however, I began to endure what I have ever since felt, the torments of love unreturned, and a character blasted for ever. 

After the short moments of a fortnight’s joy, he left me, as he said, but for a day, nor could I have believed it to be in the nature of man to be so perjured, if he at that time mean ever to return again. For three days, agony, suspense, and dread racked my frame. I wrote, I followed to the place whither he intended to go: alas! He was denied to me, and though fainting at the door, from the opprobrious terms his friends lavished on me, he came not to comfort her, who had, for him, given up what she supposed the rites of the church had warranted.1
Elizabeth’s husband wrote her a letter, telling her:
I have left you then for ever, for my friends insist upon it, that I must see you no more. My uncle Palmer, on whom you know I depend, has declared, unless our match be set on one aside, he will never see me no more; and you know, you have no fortune, and, if you love me, you cannot wish I should starve. It appears, although I did not know it myself, that I am six months under age, and I find, by the law of the land, I cannot marry. If, however, you should have a child, we will maintain it. I am very sorry, but what can I do? They have sent me to a place which I must not tell you of. In hopes you will bear this with becoming fortitude, I take my leave of you forever. So no more at present from your once loving husband, John P –.2
Elizabeth was distraught and wrote:
His cruel parents are determined to part us, and my poor incensed and less powerful parents can only mingle their tears with mine. They say the bans thrice put up, the solemnization in every particular, will avail me nothing; my husband being a minor is yet no husband to me – wretched, wretched girl!3
The writer of the article, Scriblerus, was deeply moved.
I conjure, therefore, the legal correspondents of the Repository, to exert themselves in behalf of this, perhaps not the last instance of female credulity and male baseness; and through the medium of the next number, point out some remedy to restore an unfortunate female to her peace of mind and respectability of character.4
The following issue published a story of Mary F – r, a lady who had married an underage man after banns who wished to get out of her marriage because of her ‘husband’s cruelty, and infamous behaviour of every description.’5

This woman wrote:
I was told, and am still told, that his being a minor will avail me nothing, as the bans were regularly put up. If what the unfortunate Elizabeth states be the fact, in the broad meaning of the assertion, surely I could as well take advantage of my husband’s minority, as in her case the husband or his friends could. Surely a man ought not to be allowed to take advantage of his own wrong-doings, to leave an innocent and injured woman; when, if that woman wished to do so, from his cruelties or other bad behaviour, she should be shut out from the same remedy.6
In April, Scriblerus published a response:
Johannes Scriblerus feels happy in informing his readers, that the case represented in … January has been answered by several legal gentlemen, who have given as their opinions, that the regular publication of bans stamps a marriage with legality. Elizabeth P – is, consequently, to all intents and purposes, the wife of John P –, although the marriage took place while he was a minor. Of course, according to this decision, our fair correspondent, Mary F – r, cannot withdraw herself from those engagements from which she has such reason to desire a release.7
Runaway marriages

Smuggling Out or Starting for Gretna Green by Rowlandson & Schutz Published by Ackermann (1789) DP872184 from Metropolitan Museum of Art
Smuggling Out or Starting for Gretna Green
by Rowlandson & Schutz
Published by Ackermann (1789)
DP872184 from Metropolitan Museum of Art
No parental consent was required for the marriage of underage persons in Scotland. As a result, couples ran away to the border to get married, at places like Gretna Green, if they did not have the consent of the underage person’s parent or guardian. As this was an expensive business, it usually meant that there was a fortune involved.

1. Ackermann, Rudolph, The Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics (January 1815)
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ackermann, Rudolph, The Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics (February 1815)
6. Ibid.
7. Ackermann, Rudolph, The Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics (April 1815)

Sources used include:
Ackermann, Rudolph, The Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics (Various)

Thursday, 14 May 2020

How would you treat sprains and bruises in the Regency?

Winter Amusements - A Scene in France (1803)  Published by Laurie & Whittle © The Trustees of the British Museum  Used under Creative Commons Licence (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)
Winter Amusements - A Scene in France (1803)
Published by Laurie & Whittle © The Trustees of the British Museum
Used under Creative Commons Licence (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)  
How would a Regency lady treat a sprained ankle?

There is a skating scene in Georgiana* where my heroine’s sister Eliza falls and badly sprains her ankle. I researched what would have been done and how long such an injury would keep her out of action. I wanted to know whether it would be reasonable for her accident to make her miss the season.

Of course, one of the best types of research is a re-enactment. This was not a piece of research I intended to do! No, I wasn’t skating. I merely missed my footing as I stepped outside my front door for my daily exercise during lockdown. Four weeks later, I can walk again, but my leg is still sore, and my ankle a bit swollen and aches if I do too much. I certainly won’t be up for a ball anytime soon and have every sympathy with Eliza who was forced to miss the whole season as a result of her accident.

The danger of sprains and strains

In his 1790 book Domestic Medicine, William Buchan wrote:
Strains are often attended with worse consequences than broken bones. The reason is obvious; they are generally neglected. When a bone is broken, the patient is obliged to keep the member easy, because he cannot make use of it; but when a joint is only strained, the person, finding he can still make a shift to move it, is sorry to lose his time for so trifling an ailment. In this way he deceives himself, and converts into an incurable malady what might have been removed by only keeping the part easy for a few days.1
Front page of William Buchan's Domestic Medicine 1790

Remedies for sprains

1. Immerse in cold water
Country people generally immerse a strained limb in cold water. This is very proper, provided it be done immediately, and not kept in too long.2
2. Bandage the sprained limb
Wrapping a garter, or some other bandage, pretty tight about the strained part, is likewise of use. It helps to restore the proper tone of the vessels and prevents the action of the parts from increasing the disease. It should not however be applied too tight.3
3. Bleeding

The treatment of almost every ailment in Georgian times seemed to involve bloodletting or bleeding!
I have frequently known bleeding near the affected part have a very good effect.4
4. Rest
What we would recommend above all is ease. It is more to be depended on than any medicine, and seldom fails to remove the complaint.5
5. Poultices
A great many external applications are recommended for sprains, some of which do good, and others hurt. The following are such as may be used with the greatest safety, viz. poultices made of stale beer or vinegar and oatmeal, camphorated spirits of wine, Mindererus’s spirit, volatile liniment, volatile aromatic spirit diluted with a double quantity of water, and the common fomentation, with the addition of brandy or spirit of wine.6
If you are interested, I discovered that Mindererus’s spirit is an aqueous solution of acetate of ammonium named after a Augsburg physician called Minderer (but I confess that doesn’t actually make me any the wiser as I’m not at all medically minded!)

Treatment of bruises

Dr Buchan believed bruises were as much a problem as sprains:
Bruises are generally productive of worse consequences than wounds. The danger from them does not appear immediately, by which means it often happens that they are neglected.7
Remedies for bruises

1. Bathing in warm vinegar
In slight bruises it will be sufficient to bathe the part with warm vinegar, to which a little brandy or rum may occasionally be added, and to keep cloths wet with this mixture constantly applied to it. This is more proper than rubbing it with brandy, spirits of wine, or other ardent spirits, which are commonly used in such cases.8
2. Cow-dung poultice
In some parts of the country the peasants apply to a recent bruise a cataplasm of fresh cow-dung. I have often seen this cataplasm applied to violent contusions occasioned by blows, falls, bruises, and such like, and never knew it fail to have a good effect.9
A cataplasm is a poultice or plaster. This sounds like a particularly smelly and unpleasant remedy!

3. Bleeding
When a bruise is very violent, the patient ought immediately to be bled.10
4. Light food and weak drink
His food should be light and cool, and his drink weak, and of an opening nature; as whey sweetened with honey, decoctions of tamarinds, barley, cream-tartar-whey, and such like.11
I didn’t know what a tamarind was, let alone a decoction of tamarinds! According to the BBC website, it is a tart fruit from the tamarind tree which tastes like a sour date. The fruit is shaped like a long bean which contains a sour pulp of seeds which can be made into a paste. It is a key ingredient in Worcestershire sauce.12

I found a recipe for a decoction of tamarinds in Thomas Fuller’s Pharmacopoeia Extemporanea (1719):
A Decoction of tamarinds
Take tamarinds 2 ounces; raisins stoned 4 ounces; boil in fair water 3 pints to 1 quart which strain.
It restrains the Flame of the Blood, allayeth unquenchable Thirst, humects, loosens, and is proper for constant Drink, in those Fevers that bring with them Costiveness, Drought, and parching Heat.13
5. Vinegary poultice
The bruised part must be bathed with vinegar and water, as directed above; and a poultice made by boiling crumb of bread, elder-flowers, and camomile-flowers, in equal quantities of vinegar and water, applied to it. This poultice is peculiarly proper when a wound is joined to the bruise. It may be renewed two or three times a-day.14
Mr Parker’s sprained ankle15

A Calm by James Gillray - published by H Humphrey 16 May 1810  © The Trustees of the British Museum  Used under Creative Commons Licence (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)
A Calm by James Gillray - published by H Humphrey 16 May 1810
© The Trustees of the British Museum
Used under Creative Commons Licence (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0)  
Mr Parker sprains his ankle at the beginning of Jane Austen’s unfinished novel Sanditon:
In a most friendly manner Mr. Heywood here interposed, entreating them not to think of proceeding till the ankle had been examined and some refreshment taken, and very cordially pressing them to make use of his house for both purposes.
‘We are always well stocked,’ said he, ‘with all the common remedies for sprains and bruises.’16
Unfortunately, Jane Austen didn’t tell us what these remedies were.

Later, Mr Parker’s sister Diana hears about his accident and writes to him:
If indeed a simple sprain, as you denominate it, nothing would have been so judicious as friction, friction by the hand alone, supposing it could be applied instantly. Two years ago I happened to be calling on Mrs. Sheldon when her coachman sprained his foot as he was cleaning the carriage and could hardly limp into the house, but by the immediate use of friction alone steadily persevered in (and I rubbed his ankle with my own hand for six hours without intermission) he was well in three days.17
I’m glad Diana didn’t get her hands on my ankle – it sounds very painful!

My treatment

I suppose immersing in cold water is a similar idea to ice treatment – I got my frozen peas on my swollen ankle promptly. I used witch hazel gel and later arnica for the swelling and bruises – no bloodletting or cow dung poultices, I hasten to add. I used an elasticated bandage for support but above all, plenty of rest, as recommended by Buchan.

* Georgiana is the working title of the next book in the Merry series of Regency romances.
1. Buchan, William, Domestic Medicine: or, a treatise on the prevention and cure of diseases (1790, 11th edition)
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.
10. Ibid.
11. Ibid.
13. Fuller, Thomas, Pharmacopoeia Extemporanea or a body of medicines (1719)
14. Buchan op cit.
15. Thanks to Gordon Le Pard for reminding me of Mr Parker’s sprained ankle. I added this Sanditon section on 16 May 2020.
16. Austen, Jane, Sanditon (1817).
17. Ibid.

Sources used include:
BBC website
Buchan, William, Domestic Medicine: or, a treatise on the prevention and cure of diseases (1790, 11th edition)
Fuller, Thomas, Pharmacopoeia Extemporanea or a body of medicines (1719)