Why Victorian Photographs So Often Show Serious Faces Instead of Smiling Ones

Why Victorian Photographs So Often Show Serious Faces Instead of Smiling Ones

I have recently been finding out a little bit about everyday life in the Victorian era. It made me wonder about those old photographs that so often seem serious and unsmiling. Today, we take pictures all the time of laughing, smiling faces and people enjoying themselves. Victorian photography was very different. When we look at those stern faces, I wonder if people were unhappy, but the truth is rather more complicated.

Photography became increasingly popular during the nineteenth century after early processes such as the daguerreotype appeared in the 1830s and 1840s. At first, having a portrait taken was not an everyday experience. It could be expensive and time-consuming, making it something of an occasion. For many families, especially those of more modest means, a photograph might be the only portrait they would ever have.

The process helps us to understand the expressions we see. Early cameras required very long exposure times. Depending on the method and lighting, people sometimes had to sit motionless for several seconds or even longer.

 Holding a smile naturally for that length of time could be uncomfortable and difficult. Photographers often used head rests or they used carefully posed positions to prevent the subject from moving, because any movement could blur the image.

Victorian culture also shaped how people approached photography. Portrait painting had influenced ideas about what was seen as dignified and respectable and serious expressions were seen as signs of self-control and good character. Many people believed a formal portrait should present them at their best. A smile, especially a broad one showing teeth, could sometimes be linked with silliness, informality, or even poor manners.

This does not mean Victorians did not have fun. Family letters, diaries, and surviving candid photographs remind us that they laughed, played, and loved much like we do. But sitting in front of a camera may have been intimidating. Some people might have been nervous about wasting money or worried about how they would appear to future generations. Others dressed in their finest clothes might have been eager to leave behind a lasting memory.

Post-mortem photography, though unsettling to us today, became part of Victorian mourning culture. For grieving families, a photograph could preserve the face of someone they worried would be forgotten.

When we look at those unsmiling Victorian faces, we are not seeing coldness at all, but people trying to present dignity.

 Do you think we misunderstand Victorian photographs because we judge them through modern expectations?

When Henry VIII Rejected Anne of Cleves: Politics and Cromwell’s Fall

When Henry VIII Rejected Anne of Cleves: Politics and Cromwell’s Fall

Today I want to find out a little more about the brief marriage of Anne of Cleves and Henry VIII and how it became in many ways the downfall of Thomas Cromwell. This story is not just about a king disliking his bride. It was also about politics, Henry’s grief, his pride and about the dangerous rivalries that were all too prevalent  in the Tudor court.

By the late 1530s, Henry VIII was relying heavily on Thomas Cromwell. Cromwell had helped to guide England through its break with Rome and the dissolution of the monasteries. It made him one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. But with power often came enemies. Many of the more conservative nobles disliked his religious reforms and resented the influence he had over the king.

England was facing uncertainty abroad. Relations with the Catholic powers were tense, and Cromwell believed a political marriage would strengthen England’s position. Anne of Cleves was the sister of the Duke of Cleves, she appeared to offer a perfect alliance. On paper the match seemed to be sensible and useful.

The reality proved to be far more uncomfortable.

Anne arrived in England in late 1539, and Henry met her in January 1540. The king had relied partly on reports from ministers and on a portrait by Hans Holbein. But, when they finally did meet, Henry was disappointed and he struggled to hide it. They did however marry. Why? You may ask.

That is one of the most debated parts of the story.

The short answer is that politics, pressure, and pride likely all played a part.

By late 1539, the marriage had already become an important diplomatic arrangement. England was worried about hostility from powerful Catholic rulers such as Charles V and Francis I of France after the break with Rome.

When Anne arrived, huge preparations had already been made. Diplomats had negotiated for months, gifts had been exchanged, and the match had been publicly announced. He could not easily refuse her at the last minute, it would have risked humiliating Anne and would have also insulted her powerful family. That could have damaged England diplomatically and would have made Henry seem unreliable.

There was also the issue of Henry’s own image.

When Henry met Anne at Rochester in early January 1540, he reportedly disguised himself and expected a romantic reaction. Anne was unfamiliar with this English custom, and she apparently did not recognise him. Some historians think Henry may have felt embarrassed before the marriage had  begun. Henry may still have hoped that his feelings would change. Physical attraction was not always immediate in dynastic marriages, and kings were expected to place duty before preference. There was considerable pressure to proceed.

I also wonder whether Henry felt trapped by his own decisions. Admitting publicly that he disliked the match before the ceremony might have suggested poor judgement or even weakness, something that Tudor kings would deny at any cost.

After the wedding on the 6^th of January 1540, Henry continued to complain that he could not bring himself to desire Anne and he insisted that the marriage had not been consummated. Once diplomatic circumstances had shifted, the alliance seemed less necessary, and that gave Henry a way out.

It was claimed later that he called Anne a “Flanders Mare,” but historians doubt that these exact words were ever spoken. What is clearer is that Henry complained privately that he had very little attraction to poor Anne and that he struggled with the marriage.

For Cromwell, this must have been extremely worrying. He had recommended the match and would have now found himself trapped between royal expectations and political reality. His enemies at court were quick to sense weakness and were eager to use the failed marriage against him.

I also cannot help wondering whether Henry’s feelings were influenced by more than appearance. Jane Seymour had died only a little over two years earlier, on the 24th of October 1537, after giving birth to Prince Edward. Henry appeared to have been genuinely devastated by her death. Jane may have become idealised in his memory, remembered as the wife who had given him his long-awaited surviving legitimate son. No living woman could easily compete with that memory.

By 1540 Henry was ageing and becoming increasingly troubled by illness and pain. Pride and insecurity may also have played a role. Admitting personal difficulty was not easy for a Tudor king.

In the end, Anne herself was not Cromwell’s downfall. But the marriage exposed the tensions that were already simmering beneath the surface. Cromwell’s enemies and Henry’s disappointment along with the court politics, and perhaps even some grief for Jane all combined to destroy him.

Do you think Henry’s rejection of Anne was political, or do you think his feelings for Jane played a role?

The Brave Norwegian Woman Who Defied Fear At Hegra Fortress

The Brave Norwegian Woman Who Defied Fear At Hegra Fortress

I have been discovering more about the courage shown by ordinary people during the Second World War. Today I want to tell you about a Norwegian woman called Anne Margrethe Strømsheim. She was born Anne Margrethe Bang in 1914 in Trondheim. Her father was a doctor who had volunteered in earlier wars and had taught her first aid. Although she hoped to become a nurse one day, money made training difficult.

When Germany invaded Norway on the 9th of April 1940, Anne was recovering from bronchitis in the mountains. She did not stay in safety, she decided to hurry back toward Trondheim. She travelled using skis, trains, and taxis. After helping move her mother to safety, she learned that Norwegian defenders near Hegra Fortress desperately needed medical supplies. She gathered what she could and made her way there.

At Hegra Fortress, Anne became the only female defender among a small group that were determined to resist the German forces. Before the siege had even properly begun, she was already treating the casualties. One incident stayed with her when a civilian train was mistakenly fired on and she cared for a badly wounded Finnish woman. She sang softly to comfort her while help was arranged.

The Battle of Hegra Fortress lasted twenty-five days. Conditions inside were bitterly cold and damp. Anne worked for long hours tending to the wounded and sick, often not able to get any rest during the attacks. German observers noticed the blonde woman moving through the fortress and reportedly nicknamed her “Jeanne d’Arc.” Behind all of her bravery, there must  have been fear and  exhaustion. Two childhood friends fighting beside her would sadly not survive.

When the fortress surrendered in May 1940, Anne became a prisoner of war. Though she was treated differently from the male prisoners, she fought to secure medical care for them through the Norwegian Red Cross. Throughout the occupation she remained involved in anti-German activities and eventually had to flee to avoid arrest.

After the war, Anne devoted herself to helping vulnerable people, including blind children and injured veterans. She was decorated for her service and she remained outspoken about the realities of war and the sacrifices that it demanded. She died in 2008 at the age if 93-94. 

The Fear Of The Victorian Asylum And What It Meant For Women

The Fear Of The Victorian Asylum And What It Meant For Women

I have recently been discovering more about some of the realities of life for Victorian women. It got me to wondering about one of the darker sides of Victorian England. The fear of the asylum. When we picture Victorian asylums, we imagine frightening buildings and the dramatic stories told about them, but the reality was far more complicated and quite unsettling.

During the early Victorian period, beginning in 1837, attitudes toward mental illness were changing. In earlier centuries people who suffered with mental health were often treated badly or they were neglected, but the care depended on circumstances. By the nineteenth century, many doctors and reformers started to believe that asylums could offer them treatment and a form of protection. Large county asylums were built across Britain, and in theory they were meant to be places that would care for people rather than punish them.

But for many women, the system could be frightening.

Victorian society placed enormous expectations on women. They were often expected to be calm, obedient, modest, and devoted to the family. Respectability was hugely important. Women who struggled emotionally, challenged social expectations, or behaved in ways that were considered unusual could be judged rather harshly.

The fear was made even more real by the legal system that surrounded the asylums. Under laws like the Lunacy Acts, people could be admitted to asylums with medical certification and legal procedures. In many cases doctors and relatives genuinely believed that they were helping someone who was seriously unwell. Conditions such as severe depression, psychosis, dementia, or postnatal mental illness did exist and often require a level of care that families could not provide. But the process could still be alarming.

Stories circulated in newspapers and there was gossip about women who were supposedly confined unfairly. Some women were scared of being called “hysterical,” which was a vague diagnosis to describe emotional distress or behaviour that was thought to be unsuitable for a woman. Others worried that family disagreements, inheritance disputes, or unhappy marriages might also place them at risk. They thought they may be deliberately confined although it was far less common than stories sometimes suggested.

The fear was very real.

Even if many of the asylums did attempt treatment, the loss of the patient’s independence would have been terrifying. Some women undoubtedly entered asylums needing genuine help.

By the later Victorian period, public debate grew. Campaigners questioned many asylum practices, former patients shared their experiences, and society slowly began discussing mental health with more scrutiny. The asylums reputation as both a place of treatment and a one of anxiety and fear remained.

Do you think that Victorian women were really afraid of the asylum, or of living in a society where they could be so overlooked?

Henry VIII’s Precious Son: The Carefully Guarded Childhood Of Prince Edward

Henry VIII’s Precious Son: The Carefully Guarded Childhood Of Prince Edward

Yesterday we spoke about Henry VIII and his reaction to Jane Seymours death. Today I want to address Prince Edward, the tiny boy that everyone in the country had been praying for, especially the king. His arrival was saddened by the tragic loss of his mother, but nonetheless Henry was determined to keep him safe. He had his own household, which was not unusual  for a royal child, especially the heir to the throne.

Image info:

Artist: Circle of William Scrots

 

Edward was born on the 12th of October 1537 at Hampton Court Palace, and from the very start his household was almost like a small royal court of its own. He did not remain constantly with Henry and instead had his own apartments, servants, tutors, nurses, and officials whose job was to care for him and to protect him.

The main people in his  household were at first Margaret Bryan (Lady Mistress) and later Blanche Herbert, Lady Troy, while Sybil Penn served as an important nurse and educator later in his childhood. Along with other gentlewomen, rockers, laundresses, and attendants who watched over his daily needs. High-ranking nobles supervised the household because raising the heir to the throne was considered a matter of national importance. Everything around Edward was carefully controlled, from who carried him to who could enter his rooms.

I think Henry VIII was more protective of Edward,  because of the death of Jane Seymour only days after his birth. Maybe he felt a duty to Jane as well as to the country to keep him safe. The king had waited decades for a surviving legitimate son, and Edward represented not just a loved son but the future of the Tudor dynasty.

To keep him safe, Henry insisted on many precautions.

Firstly, Edward’s household had to follow strict hygiene and health rules. Rooms were to be kept warm and clean, bedding changed regularly, and servants watched carefully. Illness in this era was terrifying, especially diseases like the plague or the sweating sickness.

Henry also controlled who had access to the prince. Visitors were screened and his attendants were chosen with loyalty in mind. There was always political danger and  people who wished the boy harm, if Henry was to die a young king was an incredible tool for others advancement, but it also made him vulnerable.

Edward was often moved between royal residences as it was considered healthier and safer. Tudor people believed fresh air and avoiding unhealthy locations helped to  prevent disease. Palaces such as Hampton Court Palace and Greenwich Palace were felt to be safer.

Henry also ordered that Edward should never be left unattended or exposed to unnecessary risk. Even when he was playing and being educated, he was to be supervised. As Edward grew up he had tutors including Richard Cox and John Cheke who oversaw his education but they also prioritised his physical care.

Perhaps one of the most famous examples of Henry’s protectiveness was his insistence that Edward’s food, drink, servants, and surroundings be closely monitored. Poisoning at Tudor court was feared, justifiably or not.

So Edward’s household was affectionate but also highly controlled. He lived surrounded by privilege, but his life was not private or free. Henry’s insistence on safety shows us both his fatherly love and the burden of the Tudor succession.

For Edward, this carefully controlled life may have felt restrictive, even if to him it was normal. Some historians have wondered whether this over powering protection may have had unintended consequences. Although Henry’s rules were designed to shield his son from diseases by limiting his exposure to the outside world and constantly moving to avoid illnesses, they could not guarantee his health in an age when medicine was not very well understood. Despite every effort to protect him, Edward still faced the same medical dangers that threatened all Tudor lives.

The Australian Wartime Nurse Who Shielded The Wounded Under Enemy Fire

The Australian Wartime Nurse Who Shielded The Wounded Under Enemy Fire

Today I am going to tell you about Margaret Irene Anderson. When we think of war, we think about the thousands of brave soldiers, but the nurses were also faced with terrifying dangers.

Margaret Irene Anderson was born on the 11th of December 1915 in Malvern, Victoria, Australia. In 1940 she qualified as a nurse at the Austin Hospital in Heidelberg and soon joined the Australian Army Nursing Service.

In November 1941, Margaret sailed from Melbourne to Singapore aboard the SS Zealandia. She and fellow nurse Vera Torney were sent to the 13th General Hospital at Tampoi. At first, explosions in the distance were mistaken for military exercises, but it soon became clear that the war had arrived. Casualties poured in day and night, and the nurses worked exhausting hours surrounded by fear.

By February 1942, Singapore was collapsing under Japanese attack. Margaret became one of 133 Australian nurses evacuated on board the Empire Star alongside thousands of other military personnel and civilians. On the 12th of February, Japanese aircraft attacked the ship. Fires broke out and people were killed and wounded.

Margaret and Vera continued nursing below deck in spite of the danger. When wounded men were brought up into the open air, enemy aircraft machine-gunned the ship. In that moment, both nurses reportedly threw themselves over injured soldiers to shield them while the vessel manoeuvred to escape. The fear they must have felt, but they still chose to protect others over their own safelty.

For this remarkable bravery, Margaret received the George Medal. She continued serving on hospital ships until 1945, eventually holding the rank of lieutenant. After the war she married and sadly passed away in 1995 at the age of 79.

It makes you wonder just how many acts of courage have remained overshadowed?

The Victorian Street Sellers Who Fed London With Eels, Pies, And Oysters

The Victorian Street Sellers Who Fed London With Eels, Pies, And Oysters

I have recently been discovering more about everyday life in the  Victorian era. I started to wonder about the street vendors. We often picture grand Victorian buildings or the wealthy drawing rooms, but underneath all of that was another London. A crowded and noisy place, that was filled with the shouts of street sellers who were trying to earn enough to survive. Among the most familiar were them were the food vendors selling eels, pies, and oysters.

Although oysters may sound expensive to us today, in Victorian London they were often one of the cheapest foods that were available. There were huge oyster beds around the British coast, in particular in places like Kent, Essex, and Colchester. They sent enormous quantities to the capital. They could be sold cheaply and eaten quickly, which made them especially popular with poorer Londoners. Street sellers and market traders helped turn oysters into an everyday food rather than a luxury, and many working families relied on them as an affordable source of food, until  stocks declined later in the century due to overfishing and pollution, which eventually made them less affordable.

During the early Victorian period, London was growing at an astonishing speed. By the 1830s and 1840s, thousands of people had flooded into the city searching for work. Not everyone was able to find steady employment, and many turned to street trading instead. Selling food required very little money to start up, but it was demanded and exhausting hours and the competition was fierce. They often lived close to poverty. Bad weather, poor catches, or rising prices could quickly threaten their income.

Another food that became closely linked with London’s working-classes was the eel. Eels thrived in the Thames and nearby waterways and were sold alive or cooked. Many street sellers prepared stewed eels, while others specialised in hot eel pies.

By the later Victorian period, pie and eel shops had becime increasingly common, especially in East London. Sellers worked long hours in smoke, rain, and cold, competing for customers.

These people were not just part of the colourful Victorian backdrop. They were just everyday people who were trying to survive in a city that could be generous but also unforgiving.

Do you think that the people who sold food on the streets od Victorian London were valued, or simply ignored?