Many
assume that the Victorian attitude to play was it was only done by
children; and children were to be seen and not heard; and that was
only among the rich, while children in the working classes were
lumped into strenuous workhouse jobs. While this is wholly true, the
activities made to accommodate children were seen to take a big
growth during this period, each of which had fascinating effects on
Victorian life. By the end of your reading, I think you'll have a
sense of the Victorians being more fun than the dusty stereotype
would allow.
Stories
of the time clearly emphasise how peripheral children could be. Emily
Brontë's
Wuthering
Heights shows
young Cathy and Heathcliff being “permitted
to play,” only on Sunday evenings “if [they] did not make much
noise”. Much of the rest of the novel, they're seen to play out on
the moors, a detail I won't touch on, since you're reading a blog on
Victorian life, and are unlikely to go on a dangerous Gothic moor
anyway.
While
this isn't a fair or nice way to see the children in the Victorian
era (fictitious or no), it was the opinion held by some. The
Victorian era's industrial revolution saw the advent of factory built
things on an enlarged scale. Now was the first time that toys were
mass produced and distributed across the country. Common toys at this
time were model trains commonly made from wood with fixed metal
axles, painted in bold colours. I believe toys like this were aimed
at inspiring the younger generation to invest in new technology.
Other common boys toys were figurines of soldiers in recognisable
uniforms, such as the Queen's Guard, or soldiers in the colonies. The
popular image of the tin soldier came from since many of these
soldier toys were made with tin or other metals; the image of them
being often incomplete due to the factories not having enough metal
to craft them with was also common – though I'd hope an imaginative
boy would pretend that a soldier with a missing arm or leg was just a
war casualty. While the trains encouraged boys to tinker, these
soldiers could lead boys to help backing the shining British Empire.
As
for girl's toys, the Victorian era saw the first lavish doll's houses
being made. Upper class girls often had their own homes remade as the
doll's house, to recreate their own daily lives, with intricate
details like matching carpets in certain rooms, and like for like
pieces in the tiny china cabinets. Adding to the common but (lack of
a better word) weird detail about Victorian girl's toys was the
detail in their dolls. They'd commonly have clothes stitched out of
the same patterned fabric or even cut down alterations of their old
clothes. The details of girls dolls gets more bizarre when the doll
makers would add the girl's own hair to the dolls, for authenticity.
To me, I think this had two functions for girls: this odd realism in
their dolls would aid them in being mothers later on in life, and to
instil in them a sense of vanity; if they could preen a tiny copy of
themselves, they'd be all the more willing to keep themselves equally
presentable in the future, with the intention of courting a husband.
As
nice the image could be of the little ones on the floor of their
bedroom on a Sunday morning; a boy marching his tin soldier army up
to his sister's elaborate doll's house, there was a great and
unforeseen danger. The vibrant colours of boys trains and details in
a girl's doll's house often meant the children would be at risk from
lead poisoning. Manufacturers of toys would use lead paint on wooden
toys during this time for vibrant colours to make such toys
appealing. While they did know the risks of lead ingestion, they also
assumed that the poison would be no problem unless it was consumed.
Many young children suffered from this lead paint as they only got
the effects when the toys were licked. This certainly contributed to
the rampant infant mortality rates across the country, despite the
obviously contrasting intention.
While
the children enjoy the toys in their bedroom, as quiet as possible to
mirror young Cathy and Heathcliff, one has to wonder what the parents
are doing. The Victorian parlour game has been a stable part of
Victorian culture and the associated games have been boring us for
Christmases ever since. Such games as Charades were commonly played
as well as many other games I can't quite claim I've heard of. What
follows are some of my top picks and how to play them.
The
Messenger sounds very fun; to me, it sounds like a difficult version
of Simon Says. One person comes in and gives the room an action to
do, and one by one everyone does it. That messenger leaves and comes
back, giving everyone a new action which they must do on top of what
they're already doing. It builds until people can't do it anymore and
are eliminated. It's been said that the game “will not fail to
produce shouts of laughter” (Jackson, 127). I'm now endeavouring to
try and make my own friends play it.
Blind
Man's Buff was common, and a favourite of Tennyson. It involved a
blindfolded person trying to catch one of the other players and guess
who it is, to pass the blindfold onto them. It was best played when
the blindfolded one was spun a little, and they all called out to
confuse them. While it sounds fun, it could also lead to a
disconcerted feeling and potentially broken furniture from multiple
stumbles.
Shadows
or Shadow Buff was a simple and fun game, played by many people who
had the benefits of strong gas or electric lighting. The players
would have a “white tablecloth or... sheet... suspended on one
side” (Jackson, 127) while one person guesses who's casting their
shadow from behind the sheet and if they guess rightly, that person
tries to guess the next shadow. I imagine that when people didn't
play this game in this way, they would perform shadow puppets for the
children when they're finished with their incomplete soldiers and
eerie, human hair dolls.
Another
interesting game played in the parlour after tea was something called
Pass the Slipper. Most of the time it was played with a slipper, but
any small object works. One person stands in the middle, eyes closed,
while the rest encircle them, passing the slipper around behind their
backs. The middle person opens their eyes and guesses who's got the
slipper. They swap places if they're right and the new middle person
has to guess again.
It
seems that a lot of Victorian games involved people standing around
each other, singling out one person to do something; a classic way to
arrange a game, I believe. If anyone around a drawing room table were
feeling particularly lazy, they'd play one of the multiple common
card games.
While
games like Poker and Blackjack were first recorded in 1829 and 1570
respectively, it took a considerable time before they became as
commonly played as they are today. Other games would have been played
with the traditional deck of French-suited cards.
Whist
was a particularly common game and “ acknowledged to be by far the
best” (Jackson, 261), and went on to become Bridge in today's
serious card playing circles. It's played by four people where
everyone lays down a card at random, whoever plays the highest wins
the “trick” based on whatever the trump card is; they then take
the cards. The rules are very unclear and I don't entirely understand
it.
Many
think of the Victorian people to be dusty and set in the ways of
formality and decorum,
distancing themselves from their children. To
me, the Victorians knew how to enjoy themselves, giving well made
(though odd and potentially deadly) toys to their children, while the
grown-ups played strange but fun sounding games in the next room. The
Age of Enlightenment sounded very fun to me.
Jackson,
Lee. Dirty
Old London: The Victorian Fight Against Filth. London:
Yale University Press 2014. Print.
Hi Adam, this is very interesting, I particularly like the facts about lead poising. I was wondering when doing your research wether you found any toys or games that lower class children would have played?
ReplyDeleteThose dolls are definitely weird. Almost as bad as these two walking around London
Deletehttp://www.konbini.com/en/lifestyle/creepy-dolls-london/