#lord hervey

[amphibious-thing]

Oh! the Roast Beef of Old England: Roast Beef, English Nationalism, Effeminacy and Epilepsy (ft. Lord Hervey)

While today if asked what the national dish of England is some might say bangers and mash, Yorkshire pudding or chicken tikka masala in the 18th century the answer was roast beef.

It was roast beef that was the star of the patriotic 18th century song The Roast Beef of Old England. Originally written by Henry Fielding for his play The Grub-Steet Opera (1731) and then reused in Don Quixote in England (1734) the more popular version was written by Richard Leveridge who set it to a catchier tune and added five new stanzas:

When mighty roast Beef was the Englishman's Food, It ennobled our Veins, and enriched our Blood; Our Soldiers were brave, and our Courtiers were good. Oh the roast Beef of old England, and old English roast Beef. But since we have learn'd from all-conquering France, To eat their Ragouts, as well as to dance, We are fed up with nothing, but vain Complaisance. Oh the roast Beef, &c. Our Fathers, of old, were robust, stout, and strong, And kept open House, with good Chear all Day long, Which made their plump Tenants rejoice in this Song. Oh the roast Beef, &c. But now we are dwindled, to what shall I name, A sneaking poor Race, half begotten-and tame, Who sully those Honours, that once shone in Fame. Oh the roast Beef, &c. When good Queen Elizabeth sat on the Throne, E're Coffee, or Tea, and such Slip-Slops were known, The World was in Terror, if e'er she but frown. Oh the roast Beef, &c. In those Days, if Fleets did presume on the Main, They seldom, or never, return'd back again, As witness, the vaunting Armada of Spain. Oh the roast Beef, &c. Oh then they had Stomachs to eat, and to fight, And when Wrongs were a cooking, to do themselves right; But now we're a-I could, but good Night. Oh the roast Beef, &c.

Leveridge's version espouses the masculine qualities roast beef making Englishmen "brave", "robust," and "strong". Fielding's version from Don Quixote in England contrasts this English masculinity with the non-roast beef eating "effeminate Italy, France, and Spain". (Edgar V. Roberts, Henry Fielding and Richard Leveridge: Authorship of "The Roast Beef of Old England")

[Politeness, print, after 1780, published by Hannah Humphrey, after John Nixon (1779), via The Metropolitan Museum of Art.]

A common element of English nationalist propaganda was to contrast the masculine beef eating Englishman with the effeminate frogs legs eating Frenchman. The satirical print Politeness compares the masculine John Bull to a stereotypical effeminate Frenchman. John Bull is depicted as a plainly dressed man, holding a pint of beer, with a Bulldog at his feet and a cut of beef hanging behind him. The Frenchman in contrast is depicted as foppishly dressed, holding a snuff-box, with an Italian Greyhound at his feet and a bundle of Frogs hanging behind him. John Bull says "You be D_m'd". The Frenchman responds "Vous ete une Bete". The caption narrates:

With Porter Roast Beef & Plumb Pudding well cram'd, Jack English declares that Monsr may be D------d. The Soup Meagre Frenchman such Language dont suit, So he Grins Indignation & calls him a Brute.

In 18th century English print culture the butcher became somewhat of a stock figure representing English masculinity. There was a series of prints in which a masculine butcher is depicted assaulting a fop. Often with bystanders cheering him on. Some of these prints identified the fop as a Frenchman (such as The Frenchman in London by John Collet and The Frenchman at Market by Adam Smith) but others either don't identify nationality or indicate that the fop is English.

[The Beaux Disaster, print, c. 1747, via The Wellcome Collection.]

The Beaux Disaster depicts the aftermath of an altercation between a butcher and a fop. The butcher has hung the fop up by the back of his breeches on a hook next to cuts of meet. A crowd of passersby point and laugh at the fop, enjoying his misfortune. The caption narrates:

Ye smarts whose merit lies in dress, Take warning by a beaux distress. Whose pigmy size, & ill-tun'd rage Ventured with butchers to engage. But they unus'd affronts to brook Have hung poor Fribble on a hook, While foul disgrace! expos'd in air, The butchers shout and ladies stare. Satyr so strong, ye fops must strike you How can ye think ye fair will like you, Women of sense, in men despise The anticks, they in monkeys prize.

[Docking the Maccaroni–or the Butcher's Revenge, print, c. 1773, published by Carington Bowles, via The Metropolitan Museum of Art.]

Docking the Maccaroni–or the Butcher's Revenge depicts a butcher cutting off a macaroni's queue. Fashionable men in the late 1760s and 1770s would wear elaborate hairstyles sometimes with hair tied back into a 'club'. This hairstyle is a common element of macaroni satire (for a more flattering rendering of the style see George Simon Harcourt by Daniel Gardner). The caption narrates:

A Spruce Maccaroni whose Hair and whose Clothes, Were the envy of Fops, and the Patterns of Beaus; Looked with Scorn on a Butcher; in passing the Street, And turnd up his Nose, at the sight of the Meat. Says the Butcher you Pig, if you'd eat such as that, You'd credit your Country, and grow plump and fat. Greasy Brute cry's the Fop! then the Butcher enrag'd, Snatch'd a Knife, & to punish the Coxcomb engag'd: Then seizing poor Mac, who began to look pale, He docked his Fools noddle, and cut of his Tail: Now Now cry'd the Butcher the People may stare. At a Skull without Brains, & a Head without Hair.

The macaroni was often portrayed as a traitor to English culture not only for his love of french fashion but also his love of Italian pasta. The fabled 'macaroni club' was a reference to Almack's Assembly Rooms at 50 Pall Mall. (see Pretty Gentleman by Peter McNeil p52-55) The Macaroni and Theatrical Magazine (Oct 1772) explains that the origin of the word macaroni comes from:

a compound dish made of vermicelli and other pastes, which unknown in England until then, was imported by our Connoscenti in eating, as an improvement to their subscription at Almack's. In time, the subscribers to those dinners became to be distinguished by the title MACARONIES, and, as the meeting was composed of the younger and gayer part of our nobility and gentry, who, at the same time that they gave into the luxuries of eating, went equally into the extravagancies of dress; the word Macaroni then changed its meaning to that of a person who exceeded the ordinary bounds of fashion; and is now partly used as a term of reproach to all ranks of people, indifferently, who fell into this absurdity.

(Cited in Catalogue of Prints and Drawings in the British Museum edited by Frederic George Stephens and Edward Hawkins, vol.4, p.826)

Foppishly dressed men were blamed not only for the popularisation of pasta in England but also the growing disfavour for roast beef. A letter written to The Connoisseur in 1767 complains:

By Jove it is a shame, a burning shame, to see the honour of England, the glory of our nation, the greatest pillar of like, ROAST BEEF, utterly banished from our tables. This evil, like many others, has been growing upon us by degrees. It was begun by wickedly placing the Beef upon a side-table, and screening it by a parcel of queue-tail'd fellows in laced waistcoats.

(Volume 1, Edition 5)

With both his dress and diet the fop had betrayed English masculinity for French and Italian effeminacy.

Passed down by Lady Louisa Stuart* as an example of the "extreme to which Lord Hervey carried his effeminate nicety", when "asked at dinner whether he would have some beef, he answered, "Beef?— Oh, no!— Faugh! Don't you know I never eat beef, nor horse, nor any of those things?" Stuart was somewhat skeptical of this story wondering "Could any mortal have said this in earnest?"

*anonymously. Stuart wrote the introductory anecdotes included in the 1837 edition of The Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.

While it's anyone's guess as to whether Hervey said these exact words it is true that he didn't eat beef. Not because he "courted" effeminacy with the "affected and almost finical nicety in his habits and tastes" as John Heneage Jesse suggests (in Memoirs of the Court of England from the Revolution in 1688 to the Death of George the Second) but for his health.

Lord Hailes explained:

Lord Hervey, having felt some attacks of the epilepsy, entered upon and persisted in a very strict regimen, and thus stopt the progress and prevented the effects of that dreadful disease. His daily food was a small quantity of asses milk and a flour biscuit : once a-week he indulged himself with eating an apple : he used emetics daily.

(The Opinions of Sarah Duchess-Dowager of Marlborough edited by Lord Hailes, p43)

Lord Hervey's doctor George Cheyne believed that "a total Milk, and Vegetable Diet, as absolutely necessary for the total Cure of the Epilepsy". (The English Malady, p254)

In An Account of My Own Constitution and Illness Hervey explains that he followed such a diet for three years on Cheyne's prescription eating "neither flesh, fish, nor eggs" but living "entirely upon herbs, roots, pulse, grains, fruits, legumes". (p969) However after three years he reintroduced white meet. He explains his diet in a letter to Cheyne, written on the 9th of December 1732:

To let you know that I continue one of your most pious votaries, and to tell you the method I am in. In the first place, I never take wine nor malt drink, or any liquid but water and milk-tea ; in the next, I eat no meat but the whitest, youngest, and tenderest, nine times in ten nothing but chicken, and never more than the quantity of a small one at a meal. I seldom eat any supper, but if any, nothing absolutely but bread and water ; two days in the week I eat no flesh ; my breakfast is dry biscuit not sweet, and green tea ; I have left off butter as bilious ; I eat no salt, nor any sauce but bread sauce. I take a Scotch pill once a week, and thirty grains of Indian root when my stomach is loaded, my head giddy, and my appetite gone. I have not bragged of the persecutions I suffer in this cause ; but the attacks made upon me by ignorance, impertinence, and gluttony are innumerable and incredible.

Intriguingly in An Account of My Own Constitution and Illness Hervey focuses more attention on colic than epilepsy, dismissing his seizures as rare, but admits he had "two this year". This leads to the impression that his diet was prescribed to treat colic rather than epilepsy and Cheyne did prescribe a milk and vegetable diet in cases of "extreme Nervous Cholicts". (p167) Perhaps it was prescribed to treat both. But why downplay epilepsy in an account of his own illness?

While some enlightenment doctors approached epilepsy with a more scientific approach, superstitions still remained. Some believed epilepsy was a form of lunacy that was controlled by the moon (the word lunatick coming from luna). In An Historical Essay on the State of Physick in the Old and New Testament Dr. Jonathan Harle claimed that "people in this distemper are most afflicted at full or change of the moon." (p124)

Many believed epilepsy was caused by possession and this belief was supported by the bible. Mark 9:17-27, Matthew 17:14-18 and Luke 9:37-43 tell the story of a man who brings his possessed son to Jesus who "rebuked the unclean spirit, and healed the child". The boy's symptoms resemble those of an epileptic seizure and these bible verses are cited by Dr. Jonathan Harle as "an exact description of one that is an epileptick (had the falling sickness) or lunatick". (p124) Harle claimed that was "a truth as plain as words can make it" that some people with epilepsy were "possess'd by the devil". (p22)

Epilepsy was also believed to be caused by sexual depravity. The popular anti-masturbation pamphlet Onania: or, the Heinous Sin of Self-Pollution claimed masturbation caused epilepsy (p23). Onanism: or, a treatise upon the disorders produced by masturbation, or, The dangerous effects of secret and excessive venery claimed that a 14-year-old boy "died of convulsions, and of a kind of epilepsy, the origin of which was solely masturbation". (p19)

With the stigma surrounding epilepsy its no wonder that Hervey kept his seizures secret only telling a select few. One of the people he trusted with this secret was his lover Stephen Fox. Hervey describes having a seizure while at court and keeping it hidden from the Royal Family in a letter to Fox written on the 7th of December 1731:

I have been so very much out of order since I writ last, that going into the Drawing Room before the King, I was taken with one of those disorders with the odious name, that you know happen'd to me once at Lincoln's Inn Fields play-house. I had just warning enough to catch hold of somebody (God knows who) in one side of the lane made for the King to pass through, and stopped till he was gone by. I recovered my senses enough immediately to say, when people came up to me asking what was the matter, that it was a cramp took me suddenly in my leg, and (that cramp excepted) that I was as well as ever I was in my life. I was far from it ; for I saw everything in a mist, was so giddy I could hardly walk, which I said was owing to my cramp not quite gone off. To avoid giving suspicion I stayed and talked with people about ten minutes, and then (the Duke of Grafton being there to light the King) came down to my lodgings, where * * * I am now far from well, but better, and prodigiously pleased, since I was to feel this disorder, that I contrived to do it à l'insu de tout le monde. Mr. Churchill was close by me when it happened, and takes it all for a cramp. The King, Queen, &c. inquired about my cramp this morning, and laughed at it ; I joined in the laugh, said how foolish an accident it was, and so it has passed off ; nobody but Lady Hervey (from whom it was impossible to conceal what followed) knows anything of it.

[chaotic-history]

Rip Lord Hervey, died before the Percy Shelley open collar trend

[buffyfan145]

Months ago I remember we had a post on here trying to figure out how tall Charlie Vickers is since his IMDB page has it listed wrong. Well, we finally can tell now how tall Charlie is thanks to his miniseries "The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart" as this scene where he's dancing with his character's wife shows it as they're both barefoot in the scene. Tilda who plays Agnes is 5'8", which is tall for a woman, and I remember her from the Helen Reddy biopic too which she did fantastic in. Anyway, Tilda only comes up to Charlie's shoulders. That clearly shows he's at least 6'2" or taller!!! He's seriously a giant. LOL :D Also nice to see the show too in the flashbacks of Clem and Agnes as teenagers they made their height difference smaller as a lot of guys usually get taller again in their late teen/early 20s, which here in the US is usually referred to as "the college growth spurt", so apparently it happened to his character. So it's no wonder Morfydd and so many of the other "Rings of Power" cast look so much smaller compared to Charlie as he's just so tall like Sauron.

[tabellae-rex-in-sui]

18th century women have such great energy. They'll see a physically ill powder puff in a dandy little outfit that will 100% go fuckin feral if provoked and be like "ah, yes. My gravely ill but stubborn jackass of a boyfriend with a passion for pissing people off. I love him dearly". If he can be bedridden by a gust of wind but also verbally tear someone to shreds for 5 uninterrupted hours, he's a catch.

They were so right for that tho. It's about the rejection of surface-level virility while still passionately standing up for your beliefs in ways that matter

[unmaskthewriter]

Strange {Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader}

A/N: How pleasing to know your patience has paid off, dear reader. For your listening pleasure, I suggest playing Strange from the Bridgeton soundtrack to enhance the writing. It is my first piece of writing so do be kind.

I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, published and/or translated on any platform including Tumblr.

Summary: You discover just what it feels like to be in love with none other than Benedict Bridgerton.

Word count: 1296

Warnings: None

GIF provided is not mine, all credit to dailybridgerton 💛

It is strange, love, that is.

Every decision had led to this moment and yet you couldn’t feel more unprepared. Every ball, every promenade, every visit to the modiste has led to you standing at an altar with none other than Benedict Bridgerton himself. What did you know about marriage?

You’ve known Benedict since you both were small children as the family was often invited out to the country with the Bridgertons. That is, until you were sent to France for the last seven years to learn from your Aunt all that high society had to offer. One thing remained unchanged upon your return to London and that was Benedict’s hidden feelings for you. Of course, his brothers and sisters saw through his facade.

“She has bewitched you since we were children, has she not? When will you stop lying to yourself that you cannot live without her, brother?” Eloise asked as she sat in the drawing room, her fingers placed between the worn pages of a book. Benedict turned to her, raising a brow. The viscountess Bridgerton sat opposite of her daughter, pretending to be busy with her embroidery.

“It was one dance, Eloise… and bewitched? Who has been telling you such things?”

“A dance that has left you enchanted. Dare I say, you wait any longer and she might come to her senses and realize life isn’t all about marriage!” Eloise persisted, much to Benedict’s displeasure.

“For someone so against marriage, you sure do meddle in the topic quite a bit. Mother, I shall be taking my leave.” He nodded to the Viscountess before swiftly leaving.

As he stood before you, repeating your vows before God and both your families, you took in all the day had to offer. Viscountess Bridgerton sat with her children in the pews to the right whereas your parents and twin brother sat in the pews to the left of the aisle. The newlywed Duke and Duchess of Hastings even made an appearance. An assortment of white and blue flowers donned the outside edge of the pews. The viscountess flashed a reassuring smile as Benedict gently squeezed your gloved hands. You quickly looked back to him, clearing your throat.

“Repeat after me, Miss Y/L/N…” You hear the priest speak, but the only thing you can focus on is Benedict. You repeat your vows, staring into his eyes. Everything around you faded, and it was just the two of you at the altar.

“You May now kiss the bride.”

Benedict leaned in closer, placing a gentle yet tender kiss to your lips. You smiled ever so slightly, returning the kiss. Has the thought of marrying your childhood friend ever crossed your mind? Not exactly. Though considering your parent’s status and wealth, your marriage could afford to be more than just a “business transaction” as Anthony would call it. It was love, not that you ever realized it in your seven year absence from London. You always thought Benedict to be a gentleman, and swore off his actions as just that.

You were currently dancing with Lord Hervey who was of good name and status according to your brother. Unfortunately, it wasn’t your brother who had to listen to such dreadful conversation. In the midst of your dance, Lord Hervey was tapped on the shoulder. You both pause and look to see Benedict standing there, smiling at you both.

“May I?” He asked to which Lord Hervey nodded and took a step back. Benedict assumed position and resumed the dance.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You insist, looking up to the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Do what? Save you from misery? We all know Lord Hervey is dreadfully boring.”

“Do you doubt my brother’s judgement?” You ask, raising a brow.

“Your brother has not been in society long enough to understand what is best for you.” Benedict scoffs, to which you stop and pull away.

“Oh and you do?” You question further, your voice raised a little. Without hearing another word, you swiftly turn on your heel and make haste for the outdoor air. Upon stepping onto the beautifully decorated and well lit patio, you take a deep breath and look around, almost lost.

“Lady Y/L/N!” Benedict called, causing you to let out a sigh.

“What else do you wish to say to insult me further?”

“That was never the intention-“

“Well that’s how it seems! With my brother, at least he gives me the choice to decide who I think is worthy of conversation. He merely guides me. Of course, Oliver hasn’t been in society long, and I’ve been gone far too long to make any judgements but I do not need saving from-“

“By God, when will you realize?” Benedict spoke, barely above a whisper as he took a step forward, reaching for your gloved hand. You quickly look around and realize there is no one else on the patio.

“I’m not here to be caught in a scandal, Lord Bridgerton.” You insist, moving to step around him and return inside. Just as you had reached the door, Benedict spoke.

“I love you, Y/F/N.. I-I have since we were children and.. when you were sent off to France.. I wanted to follow you.. I still do. I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you willed it. You were such an inspiration to me growing up.. to follow my dreams and that’s what I did. I understand if you do not return such affections, but you must know I never have any intention of insult or scandal. I care for you.. and if it is not me who you see in such light, I understand. I only wish for you to be happy, truly.” He spoke softly, watching as you looked back at him. There was a moment of silence as you closed the distance between the two of you. To hell with the Ton.

“I-I… I love you too.” You whisper, placing a gentle hand to his cheek.

Within the next few hours, much of it remaining a blur, you and Benedict were whisked away to the reception hosted by Viscountess Bridgerton herself. You greeted the guests and accepted their many congratulations.

“So, Lady Y/L/N has bested us in the marriage mart and landed herself a Bridgerton.” Miss Cowper approached, wearing a devilish smirk and a gown much too frilly for your liking.

“If that is your way of saying congratulations, Cressida, I shall take it.” You state simply with a rather forced smile. You take a small sip of lemonade from your glass.

“I do wonder all that your Aunt in France has taught you. To arrive in London and be married off so quickly, to a Bridgerton of all people. Surely, nothing untoward had occurred.” She suggested to which her two friends beside her giggled. You took a breath to respond when suddenly you felt a strong arm snake around your waist. You looked to see none other than your husband standing at your side.

“The only thing untoward that has occurred is your attitude toward my wife. Surely you have many other talents and hobbies, Miss Cowper, other than turning over the latest gossip spat out by that dreadful Whistledown. G’day.” With that said, Benedict led you away from the ladies of the Ton.

“You cannot have possibly defended me against Cressida Cowper.” You state in disbelief.

“Is that anger or shock I sense in your tone, darling?” Benedict smirks as you both take a turn about the room. You playfully slap his chest. As you joined your husband on the floor for a dance, you couldn’t help but feel content and at peace.

Surely, it is a strange feeling. Love, that is.

[mariacallous]

Despite its surface glamour, the life of a Georgian courtier - sought so earnestly by so many - was not a life to be longed for. Lord Chesterfield felt he could not laugh; Molly Hervey took great trouble to disguise her intelligence; Georgian princesses knew that ‘at Court, one learns deceit’. All the avenues leading to the court, it was said, ‘are gay, smiling, agreeable to the sight, and all end in one and the same point, honour, and self-interest’.

Courtiers: The Secret History of the Georgian Court by Lucy Worsley

[skippyv20]

and-the-void-looked-back

2m ago

and-the-void-looked-back asked:

Dear Lord!  Lady Victoria Hervey has just thrown Charles under the bus on Mark Dolan (GB News).  Says he's jealous of Andrew and that "the palace" seems to have set him up over that interview 🤦🤦🤦

Oh wow!  Oh my!!!!!  She for some reason believes she is Andrew’s savior…..Thank you!❤️

[rupert-of-the-rhine]

This might be the most niche thing I’ve posted but right where you left me by Taylor swift was written for Lord Hervey, 2nd Baron Hervey, you heard it here first.

[ptguniversestories]

VICTOR: The Vampire Heir PT.2

On his return to England he was created Duke of Clarence and Avondale and Earl of Athlone on 24 May 1890, Queen Victoria's 71st birthday.

During the spring of 1890 Albert and Hélène met and stayed at his sister's home in Scotland. Both their mothers approve as they fall in love. He saw her as someone who is innocent, so he tried to push down those disturbing thoughts that he had of her and what he wanted to do to her. This is the woman that he wants to marry. When he told his grandmother, she didn’t approve because Hélène was a Roman Catholic. On August 29th, Albert obtained permission to meet alone with his grandmother at Balmoral Castle and he brought Hélène with him.

Marrying a catholic would have entailed constitutional forfeiture of his claim to the British throne, pursuant to the Act of Settlement, but Hélène offered to become an Anglican. When Queen Victoria expressed surprise at Hélène's offer, Hélène wept and insisted that her willingness to do so was for the sake of love. Moved by the couple's desperate plea for her help, Victoria agreed to support them but warned that she thought there were many obstacles likely to render success unlikely. This included her expectation that Hélène's father would not consent to his daughter's change of faith. 

He offered to renounce his succession rights if necessary, writing to his brother: "You have no idea how I love this sweet girl now, and I feel I could never be happy without her".His mother agreed with the match, as did his father.

However Queen Victoria's fears of insurmountable opposition from multiple sources proved accurate.Her prime minister, Lord Salisbury, expressed objections to the alliance to the Queen in writing at length on 9 September. Hélène's father refused to countenance the marriage, was adamant she could not convert and informed the Queen of his decision. He granted permission, nonetheless, for Hélène to personally beseech Pope Leo XIII for a dispensation to marry Clarence, but the pope confirmed her father's verdict and the courtship ended.

He never got over his feelings for Hélène. Even though he felt that way and still was sleeping with Stephen he knew that he had to get married. By the next year he met his soon to be bride Princess Victoria Mary of Teck who went by May. There was something about her that made her interested in him. He thought that he may not love her but he probably would grow to love her. His grandmother considered her as ideal, charming, sensible and pretty. “You can say that she’s a female version of you Eddy.”

So on December 3rd he proposed to her at Luton Hoo, which she accepted. The wedding was set for February 27th 1892.

As wedding plans were under discussion, he fell ill with influenza. It looks as if he was going to die and he was. He was surrounded by his parents, his sisters Maud and Victoria, his brother George, May and her parents. 

three physicians (Alan Reeve Manby, Francis Laking and William Broadbent) and three nurses were present. His father’s chaplain, Canon Frederick Hervey, stood over Albert Victor reading prayers for the dying.

Mary told everyone that she wanted to be alone with him and they granted her wish. When she made sure that everyone was out of the room she slit her wrist and told Albert to drink her blood. Very confused as he weakly asked her what she was doing. She told him to trust her and drink as much as he needed.

He agreed and drank her blood. He then “died” and she had to play her part as the hysterically grief stricken fiancé. She didn’t want no one to touch his body as he slept. The Queen wrote to her and told her that she understood her feelings as she had felt that way when she lost her Albert. Mary told her to just trust her and that he was only sleeping and don’t tell anyone that he’s dead.

Stephen starved himself to death after learning about the news.

Mary stayed by his side for a whole week until he woke up. He had a lot of questions and he was thirsty. Mary told him that he was like her, a vampire. She explained that she’s a descendent of Vlad III and his wife who were the first vampires. The gene sometimes skipped Generations but in her case it didn’t because her father had one as well.

She told him that he would need to wear special jewelry for him to survive in the sun just like her Diamond necklace that she always wears. She told him that she’ll teach him everything. He was sad about Stephen’s death, he even called him his first love. Everyone was happy about him being alive. Mary gave him a ring made with the special metal like her necklace.

[amphibious-thing]

"In March 1736, at the same time as Ste was married, there arrived in London a twenty-four-year-old Italian scholar named Francesco Algarotti, who bore a fond letter of introduction from Hervey's old friend Voltaire. Algarotti, apart from being intelligent and charming (in the words of Thomas Carlyle, he 'had powers of pleasing and used them'), was dazzlingly good-looking, with wavy raven hair swept back from his brow and coal-black eyes: a swarthy stereotype. He had an irresistible effect on almost everyone he met (especially men with homosexual tendencies). People threw themselves at him, strove to beguile him. Voltaire called Algarotti his 'cher cygne de Padue', Frederick the Great begged him to come and live at the Prussian court; it was almost inevitable that Hervey, too, should fall under his spell."

~ Lucy Moore, Amphibious Thing p242

[chaotic-history]

Hervey's memoirs got wack real quickly. Now the Queen is asking him if, ~theoretically~ he would able to sleep w the Princess of Wales by pretending to be the Prince of Wales in case the Prince can't produce an heir?? I'm not sure why the Queen's so certain that the Prince can't. And Hervey immediately had a detailed plan of how he could, again, ~theoretically~ do this?? Loving the Frenglish though

[essenceb]

Virtual Sketchbook 1

WRITING AND RESEARCH

Good evening, Everyone,  

My name is Essence Burroughs. I am 23 years old. I love taking online courses. I am currently pursuing my bachelor's degree in early childcare. I am even more excited to give this art class a try. I used to love painting, especially when it was time to gather as a family and go painting with a twist. A fun fact you should know about me is that I am short but love to walk in heels to make me look taller.  

Five facts about Damien Hirst 

Damien Hirst was born in Bristol and grew up in Leeds. He then moved to London in 1986 to study at Goldsmith’s College.  

Hirst became famous for a group of artworks, such as, a shark, sheep, and a cow, that were chopped up animals in formaldehyde and rotting meat.  

The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Somone Living, artwork of the tiger shark which is considered iconic work of British art from the 1990s and has become a symbol of Britart worldwide. 

The tiger shark was caught off Hervey Bay in Queensland, Australia, by a fisher who was asked to do so.  

Hirst won Tate Britain’s Turner Prize, an award for contemporary art in 1995.  

Hirst is supposed to be the richest living artist to date. 

The way I think about art has changed since the first time I looked at this image. I notice that art does have a way of bringing things to life. My first thought about the image was scary because I know sharks can be dangerous. It also started making me feel like I was in the ocean with a live shark in deep water. Then I felt like I was at an aquarium where SeaLife is on display so that humans can learn how sharks communicate, what they eat, how they are trained, etc. The image made me feel so curious about how they created the illusion. Yes, I do see things differently in art after looking at this image. Most of all I see that art can be interpreted in many ways, and that everyone's interpretation is valid.  

2. ART AND WRITING

The Last Supper is graphic artwork by the Italian High Renaissance artist Leonardo da Vinci. The painting was made between the late 1490s for the Dominican monastery Santa Maria Delle Grazie in Milan. The painting stands for the last “dinner” between Jesus and his disciples. Leonardo used tempera paint and mixed media directly to the stone wall. The use the painting serve is to let us remember the life and work of Jesus did for us, as he blessed bread and broke it, and the physical blood shed by him. The Last Supper painting is important to me because he sacrificed his last meal while getting ready to prepare a better place for us. Yes, the picture is stunning because it looks realistic as if I can touch the lord. I love that every day I see the picture hanging on my wall, I feel the lord's presence near me.

3. WRITING A SELF-POTRAIT

The “baggage” I will bring along when I look at art is positivity to the work of artists by keeping an open mind and appreciating their creativity and message it means behind it. The 23-year-old me has learned how to stay positive and supportive whether I created something or even if it someone else works. I am an African American female who is from Arcadia FL. If you know me well, you will know I love to try new foods and travel to different states and countries. I am so excited to travel to Jamaica Montego Bay area for my 24th birthday in August. I am currently not in an organized group, but when I was younger, around about 16 years old, I used to be in a group called the precious pearls youth. In the Precious Pearls group, we travel to Washington D.C, Tennessee, Orlando, etc. We were taught how to meet new people and still have self-respect to others, family, and friends. I was working at a childcare center for 2 years, which I loved dearly. I decided to give home health aide a try for a couple of years. What makes you uniquely you? When I get this question asked to me the first thing, I think about is my patience. My patience speaks a lot of value, especially when I was in childcare and had to learn it each day on how to tolerate a person being upset or mad. It worked out for the better more when I decided to give working round elderly people a try.  

4. ART PROJECT (SELF-PORTARIT)

Essence Burroughs Collage!

[tabellae-rex-in-sui]

Thank you Lord Hervey for providing physical record that Stephen Fox fucked you hard

[georgiansuggestion]

fret over gin's power to end social stratification

[cedarboots]

"Amphibious thing! that acting either part, The trifling head, or the corrupted heart, Fop at the toilet, flatterer at the board, Now trips a lady, and now struts a lord." - Alexander Pope - The hair-dresser is packing up his things, and Monty thanking him; he should be standing, not still sprawled in his chair, but his pretty smile smooths away any offense. It always has. When the door closes, he springs to his feet and bows to Percy. “Mr. Newton, may I hope to dance the next with you?” He laughs. “Piss off.”