The communication practices of the Victorians ... spiced up with a scandalous divorce

I have trawled through a handful of etiquette manuals, looking for advice to readers on telephone use.  All in vain.  The British publications pointedly avoid any mention of the new invention, even those published in later years after 1910.  The contents of these manuals are oh so predictable – visiting, invitations to balls/dinners/teas, weddings, funerals.  It seems these were the core events in one’s social calendar and members of the monied classes had to be able to negotiate their way through this minefield.  These were fixed, long established rituals which people observed in order to maintain the traditions of their class.  (Whether these were ‘invented traditions’ à la Hobsbawm is a subject for another thesis.) 

Why should lords and ladies incorporate the upstart telephone into their routines and upset tradition?  The people who read conduct manuals were probably the ones in a position to own a telephone, but that doesn’t mean they would use the instrument to conduct their social affairs.  It might be useful for ringing up one’s business premises or for ordering coal, but such an instrument, ‘tainted’ as it were by business matters, was inappropriate for inviting guests to dinner.  I think remnants of this attitude are still visible today.  There are some aspects of social business that you just don’t conduct over the telephone: wedding invitations, for example, or ‘Dear John’ letters.  I’ve never heard of a ‘Dear John’ telephone call or of someone being notified of a forthcoming wedding by telephone.  Well, they might, but they always send a fancy card by post later.

Lady Colin’s manual is no different to all the others of the era.  It makes no mention whatsoever of the telephone.  It is as if it didn’t exist.  She readily acknowledges, however, that modern life is hectic and that there is little time to devote to letter writing.  How much time she would save if she used the telephone. 

Regarding domestic use, telephone companies said it was alright to ring up traders to order supplies for the household.  Not so Lady Colin.  She advises writing a short letter, and even provides an example: “Mrs. Maitland will be obliged by Mr. Scott sending her 6lb. of tea.”  Admittedly, this method is not as speedy as a phone call, but if you can send a boy round to the shop with the note, you would still get same-day service.  And you would avoid the unpleasant necessity of having to actually converse with tradespeople.  Good houses had separate tradesmen entrances for deliveries, out of sight at the back of the building.  So we don’t want to invite tradesmen directly into our parlours via the telephone.

The writer makes further mention of post cards.  Towards the end of the century sending postcards became a popular form of communication among ordinary people.  Postage for a card was cheaper than a letter and with multiple deliveries in many large towns, it was possible sometimes to send a card and receive a reply on the same day.  You could say that post cards were to Victorians what Twitter is to us today.  Space was limited (you couldn’t add an extra sheet, as with letters) so messages had to be concise.  Lady Colin, however, advises against them for personal matters: post cards are only to be used for business transactions. 

Privacy was a major concern for these people.  Post cards entering and leaving a house would be seen by servants and the information written on them freely visible to all and sundry.  Even more paranoid, to my mind, is Lady C advising letter writers not to write their return address on the backs of envelopes.  Why?  Because servants at the receiving end would know who was writing to their employers.  Compare this with today’s business correspondence: every bill or official letter I receive is blazoned with the sender’s full details. 

I written a lot about communication and correspondence but very little about the telephone.  That’s okay because we are gradually building a picture of how people at the turn of the century communicated with each other and what attitudes they held towards each method.  Given what we now know about, say, letter writing or postal services, it’s easy to envisage how difficult it was for promoters of the telephone to convince the public of its utility. 

I suspect that the telephone eventually caught on, not so much because people realized it was a good communications device, but rather because the other means of communication deteriorated. 

A final comment about the author – Lady Colin was a victim of the hypocrisy and double standards of the day.  Wikipedia has all the sordid details and there’s also information here written by Lady Colin’s biographer.

Her divorce proceedings caused great agitation in high society and the same society ostracized her for her transgression.  Instead of quietly retiring into obscurity, Lady C took to writing and journalism and mixed in literary and artistic circles.  How fitting then that she should edit a book dictating good manners to the people who vilified her.  

Lady Colin Campbell.  Etiquette of Good Society.  London: Cassell and Company, 1893.

More thoughts on manners

It has become worse over the decades, but with the arrival of the telephone we have the opportunity to 'drop in' unannounced on our hosts.  These new technologies provide us with the capability - not just the telephone, but instant messaging, e-mail, caller ID and many others.  

Imposing upon our hosts without advance warning is considered rude (even today) because you put the host in an uncomfortable position: he may not want to receive you just then, he may have to adjust his plans to accommodate you, and so on.  You are intruding into his private sphere and catch him unawares; you have the upper hand while he is disadvantaged.  You, as the caller, know when the call will be made and what the subject is.  The receiver is completely ignorant of these matters - all he knows is that the phone is ringing and it must be answered.

You would, hopefully, never turn up on someone's doorstep unannounced expecting your host to invite you in, devote his time to you, sit you down to dinner (unless you are on very intimate terms).  Then why do something similar with communications technologies?

Today's polite society advises against taking advantage of the ability to 'drop in' without prior agreement.  Technology gives you the possibility but that doesn't mean you should use it.

The decay of manners

Conservatives (with a small 'c') of every age despair of the lowering of standards and the disruptions-intrusions that innovations bring to their hitherto cosy little worlds.  1913 was no different to any other era.

"R.F.S." writes in The Academy (21 June 1913) of how manners have decayed, thanks to that "most domestic of the great inventions."  Looking first at business use and then domestic use, the author would seem to concede that the telephone has indeed been domesticated, since it was first viewed as a tool for business.  If it was installed in a private residence, it was only because even businessmen sometimes have to go home and rest.


Deterioration of business manners
The author finds it objectionable when he is consulting a lawyer or doctor and he doesn't enjoy that professional's undivided attention, because the lawyer makes or receives telephone calls during the appointment.  The visitor feels as if the professional is

interviewing another, an invisible client

and,

the [client] is troubled by the imaginary presence of a third party, by the obtrusion of a piece of business with which he has no concern.

The phenomenon is a familiar one even today.  You're speaking with someone (friend, consultant, colleague) and his phone (mobile or landline) rings.  He breaks off to answer and you stand around, feeling uncomfortably, not knowing where to look until the call is over, and trying to appear as if you're not listening to the one-sided conversation.  I think this is true when you are a visitor, then you are obliged, in a way, to eavesdrop on the conversation.  At least I personally feel uncomfortable when in these situations and if the call seems to be dragging on, then I go and wait outside till its over.  In a similar vein, how annoying it is when a stranger talks (usually loudly) on his mobile in a public space and we're all forced to listen to his petty private details.  It is a distraction to which we find ourselves drawn.  But I digress.


Deterioration of domestic manners
The author asserts again that those physically present with us take priority over someone else who is merely present 'in spirit' or on paper, hence the custom that people should not read their letters at the dinner table.


New technologies mean that our definition of "present company" must be revised and "R.F.S." does admit that this definition needs to be enlarged to accommodate those who are 'present' via a telephone connection.  Here we can apply Thrift's discussion on "being with" others and his whale example.  In pre-telephone days you could only be with someone who was physically present (though the telegraph was quicker than letter writing, it was still nevertheless like written correspondence in the sense that there could be no immediate interaction with your interlocutor - the two people communicating do not share the same space or time).  In the telephone era, communication was immediate; you don't wait for a response to your comment.  Both parties occupy the same simultaneous time and space (not physical space, of course, but rather the 'space of flows' [Castells] or to be more prosaic, the same piece of copper wire).


So, to conclude, the telephone forced Edwardian society to re-evaluate just what they meant by "present company".  Their rules of polite society dictated that you give your full attention to those standing in front of you.  If you turned to someone who wasn't there in the flesh (represented by a letter or phone call) then that was rude and the other party was an intruder.


The writer censures hosts who worsen established rules by getting up from the dinner table to answer the telephone.  Have you ever tried to ignore a ringing telephone, either at home or work, or even a public phone in the street?  It is very difficult.  (I think the only exception would be if I knew the caller's identity - thanks to caller ID - and it was someone I didn't want to speak to.)


The writer equates letters with phone calls: we read our correspondence at breakfast time so that might be a good time to make a telephone call.  However, morning is not the usual time to make calls or receive callers - we know that 'morning calls' are made between 3.00pm and 6.00pm.  


Social invitations by telephone
When organising a formal event that required lots of forward planning, the host should really send out written invitations.  A telephone call only gradually became acceptable for very informal occasions, organised at short notice, and when inviting close friends.  The writer finds telephone invitations issued at the last minute as "less honourable."  Reading between the lines, it sounds as if a person invited at such short notice is being used as a stop-gap or a last-minute replacement to make up the numbers, someone from the 'reserve list.'  'If you deserve an invitation, you get a fancy card to display on your mantelpiece.'  Otherwise, how can you demonstrate your social credibility as an invited guest if you've only got a telephone invitation, which leaves no evidence.

The writer's solution to retard the decaying process?  Regulate telephone usage: custom should dictate when the time is appropriate to make a telephone call, as was the case with personal visits.  He wouldn't have been very pleased with 21st-century manners: they are not only decaying, they are positively putrid.

R.F.S.  "The Telephone and the Decay of Manners."  Academy and Literature, 2146 (21 June 1913), p786.

Invitation to dance, by Madge

Mrs Humphry (“Madge”) writes in Every Woman's Encyclopaedia in 1910 that it is now acceptable to "summon their friends by telephone a day or two before" when inviting them to a dance (p.371).  Social rules about the amount of written notice you need give in advance are now more relaxed.


Still harping on about calling cards, there is an amusing anecdote in the next pages, again by "Madge", about a colonial couple returning home.  They mistakenly gave out ornate, gilt-edged visiting cards (which were customary in the colonies) to acquaintances, on their return to Britain.  Despite being perfectly decent people, they were dropped like a hot potato by polite society for this faux pas.  British conservativeness on the matter of visiting cards tolerates no taint of originality.

How the telephone messes up nice Victorian rules of etiquette

A telephone call is spontaneous: there is no advance notice of a call coming through.  The most you can do is forewarn the servants (who act as a buffer) and hope they don't forget.  An exception could be when you write to say that you will phone at a particular time.  Thomas Hardy wrote to Lady St Helier in 1917, proposing "to ring you up on the telephone Wednesday morning to ask when we can call."  Imagine the chaos today if we wrote to everyone first, announcing our intention to telephone them at a set time!

The visiting card represents its owner, the visitor.  (Remember, you can't leave a card on behalf of another person who is out of town.)  What represents the 'caller' when he telephones?  In this respect, he is an unannounced visitor who contravenes social rules.  Note also the slippage in meaning of the word 'caller': he is no longer a tangible presence in the house who sits opposite the hostess, but a disembodied voice heard coming from a handset.  Implications for perceptions of the time-space relationship?

The rules for visiting are formal.  Those who adhere to them are seen as upstanding members of polite society.  What does it say about a person who bypasses these rules, engaging in innovations and uses a telephone?


The telephone's initial role was one of a business tool.  Even when found in homes of the well-to-do, it was for the purpose of the householder/factory owner/businessman in communicating with his place of business.  In this context, can we assume that the telephone has no place in polite society when ladies called on each other?  Gentlemen rarely made such social visits, i.e. making morning calls.


A telephone call is (or at least, could be):
* uninvited
* unexpected
* unannounced
From a hostess's viewpoints, these are vulgar traits for a visitor.

Established rules of etiquette

There were certain situations where you just knew that you could expect a visit one day soon.  An acquaintance has come to town and the rules dictate that they must pay you a visit.

If visiting cards are left for you by your visitor, you can decide whether you want to be "at home" or not.  A modern equivalent might be screening all incoming phone calls with 'caller ID' and then deciding whether to answer or not.  Or perhaps refusing to answer the front door, pretending that you're not at home.

Calling hours were specific (3.00pm-6.00pm: perversely called 'morning calls' but only because they take place before dinner).  Visits had to be repaid within a set time limit.

No cards should be sent by post - the height of vulgarity!

Servants must differentiate between:
* a card left after a visitor leaves
* a card left and the caller enquires if the mistress is at home


Purpose of calling cards: to get round the tiresome problem of servants with amnesia.


Semantics: when a card is left with a turned-down corner, this means the visitor will call on the mother and her daughters together.


Duration of visit: never to exceed 15 minutes.


Embarrassment: what do you do if another visitor calls while you are visiting.  Stay, leave, talk, be silent?


Cards are also left at a family's house when an acquaintance dies.


A married lady would also leave her husband's visiting card together with hers - unless he was out of town (if, say, he were a naval officer serving overseas).  Your card is your proxy.  It is the rule that wives do the card-leaving for their husbands.  Married men rarely call in person!

After a visit, the calling card is left on the hall table.  It is never handed direct to a servant or the hostess.

The style and content of the visiting card must be fixed and simple - no ornate curlicues or fonts or elaborate use of titles.

The Girls' Own Paper, 1880.  Vol. I
Manners and rules of good society, or solecisms to be avoided.  London: Frederick Warne, 1916.
Routledge's Manual of Etiquette.
Every Woman's Encyclopaedia.  Vol. VI

Etiquette - good telephone manners

Nineteenth-century British society is governed by a set of rules with a rigid format.  These rules determine (among other things) who may call on whom, and when; how visiting cards are to be used; how to interact with a family that has suffered a bereavement; how to give and receive invitations; and hundreds of other situations.

In the Fin de Siecle period, these rules are gradually relaxed, an atmosphere of informality begins to appear where people do not insist so much on social norms being enforced.

It is in this same period that the telephone makes its appearance in society.  Coincidentally, it is used in those circles where social manners were/are considered important.  (Not that the 'lower classes' didn't have their own social codes; they did, but their codes were untouched by the initial telephone's appearance.  Other technologies shaped their daily lives.)

My question - did the presence of the telephone in these people's houses play any fundamental, primary role in relaxing (or, subverting?) existing rules of etiquette?  Or did other factors come into play (e.g. the various changes in society that can be lumped together under the heading of Modernity)?  In other words, is the telephone the cause or the symptom of the erosion in social manners during this era?

In a domestic situation, the telephone starts off as a tool for 'business' (the business of running a household): ringing to place grocery orders, etc.  Prior to this, of course, it allowed the gentleman of the house to keep in touch with his place of business (his home is an 'extended office').  The telephone then ends up as a tool for conducting social relationships (giving invitations, asking after friends, etc.)

Then, as now, people express concerns about bad manners in phone use or the phone's intrusiveness in the domestic sphere.  See:

* Gary Marx.  "New telecommunications require new manners."   Telecoms Policy 1994 18(7); 538-551.

* Minna T. Antrim, “Outrages of the telephone,” Lippincotts’ Monthly Magazine Vol 84 (July 1909), 125-26.

* Maude A. White, “‘Those Telephonics.’  Have you one in your home?”  Delineator, Vol 96 (May 1920).

Sometimes, the new technology appears and embeds itself in social practice so quickly that it takes a while for the rules of good behaviour to catch up with reality and set out some ground rules for basic use.  A similar phenomenon is observed nowadays with mobile phones, e-mails, etc. (when should mobiles be turned off, do we treat e-mails like paper memos, etc.)