Georgette Heyer's Regency World (10 page)

Many couples made the journey along the Great North Road from London. It was a long drive by coach and, even undertaken at speed or in fear of pursuit by outraged relatives, took several days. It was also a costly venture as Gerard Monksleigh discovered in
Bath Tangle
when he calculated the post-charges for a journey of over three hundred miles. Under Scottish law a couple wishing to marry needed only to commit to one another in the presence of at least two witnesses to make their union legal. Although young couples could be and were married in the smithy or over the anvil by the blacksmith, most marriages were performed by ‘anvil priests’ in the inns of Gretna Green. The idea of being married over the anvil has passed into folklore since then and may originally have been a matter of convenience. In Gretna Green the blacksmith’s shop was located in the centre of the village at the intersection of five coaching roads known locally as ‘Headless Cross’. It was therefore easy to find and the blacksmith, used to being awoken at all hours for shoeing, was possibly more amenable than most to being disturbed by anxious couples wishing to tie the knot.

A Brilliant Match or a Disastrous Alliance

A good match required good birth; wealth was also important but a rich man of greatly inferior birth would not be considered except in times of dire financial need or when such an offer was clearly the only chance for a daughter to be married—and even then too lowly a birth could preclude such a mismatch. A disastrous alliance was perceived as one in which a woman married a man of inferior birth with no fortune or expectations—an eventuality which, in
Sprig Muslin
, led Amanda’s well-bred grandfather to forbid her engagement to a mere captain in the 43rd Regiment. The possibility of such an unequal match was one against which heiresses, especially young debutantes such as Fanny Wendover in
Black Sheep
, had to be continually guarded and known fortune-hunters, rakes or impecunious younger sons with no hope of inheriting the title were generally held at arm’s length or avoided completely.

Most inappropriate matches could be circumvented as long as the correct protocols for arranging a marriage were followed. A man wishing to offer marriage approached the parents first, sought an interview with the father (or the mother if a widow) and made his intentions known. These would then be conveyed by her parents to the young woman who might be given the opportunity to respond. Or, if the parents were happy with the match, they would give their permission for the man to approach his intended himself and endeavour to persuade her to accept him. As Kit Fancot discovered in
False Colours
, men were sometimes compelled actively to seek approval from the prospective bride’s extended family as well, and were even subjected to a period of assessment before consent could be given. This was especially so in cases where the bride was bringing a fortune or estates to a less well-heeled but impressively well-born suitor.

Once a couple had agreed to wed a notice was sent to the papers announcing the betrothal. From this point it was virtually impossible for a man to withdraw without committing breach of promise (for which he could be sued) or worse, damaging his honour and reputation. The right to cry off or end an engagement was the woman’s prerogative and she could generally do so with impunity provided it was not too close to the wedding date. A woman who gave back her ring after the wedding arrangements were finalised (as Lady Serena Carlow did in
Bath Tangle
) risked being branded a jilt and could suffer socially as a consequence. An engagement period was usual and it was necessary to call the banns on three Sundays in a row before a marriage could proceed. Where a couple was determined to marry quickly, as was the case in
Friday’s Child
, a marriage licence enabling an immediate wedding could be bought from the bishop.

A good marriage was the primary goal for most women; failing that, almost any marriage was preferable to the single state, the exception being an inappropriate match which could result in a daughter being cut off from her family. Marriage afforded a degree of independence and a freedom not available to the single upper-class woman as Lady Buckhaven was pleased to discover in
Cotillion
. A married woman could go out unchaperoned; she could have a range of male friends; she could go out with another man socially; she could even take a lover—provided that she was discreet and had already done her duty by presenting her husband with an heir. Most upper-class women were conscious of the elasticity of morality once they were married, and of the fact that this could and would very often apply—although often unequally—to both husband and wife. Nell Cardross in
April Lady
was well aware that her husband might have a mistress or conduct an affair for that had been her mother’s experience—it was she who had carefully instructed Nell in the importance of never asking difficult questions or communicating that one knew anything about such things. An aristocratic mother might counsel her soon-to-be-wed daughter that her future husband’s extramarital activities simply did not concern her. For many women it was far better to marry a man who had no thought of fidelity or for whom they had no particular affection and be mistress of their own household, than to remain for ever a dependant in the parental home. For Melissa Brandon of
The Corinthian
, marriage to the very rich Sir Richard Wyndham was her ‘duty’ and in
The Grand Sophy
Cecilia’s older sister Maria felt compelled to marry the blockish James in view of his respectable offer, her papa’s financial difficulties and the reality of there being four other sisters to provide for. And if they were unhappy, there was always the hope that their husband might die on the battlefield, the hunting field, in a duel or from an excess of drink. Although arranged marriages were often successful, during the Regency love-matches became increasingly common as more and more men and women sought the fulfilment to be found in a relationship based on genuine affection, mutual respect and love.

Other Options

There were limited roles for the well-bred single woman over the age of twenty-two or -three when she was considered past her prime. If she were wealthy in her own right or possessed of a comfortable ‘independence’, she might set up house with a suitable female companion although, as Venetia Lanyon recognised in
Venetia
, this would probably see her stigmatised as an ‘eccentric’ and result in her being ostracised by elite circles. If independent living was not an available option—more often the case owing to the extremely limited means by which a woman could obtain an income during the Regency—then she would probably become a dependant in the household of a family member. Maiden aunts, distant cousins, nieces and unmarried older daughters often took on the role of companion, governess or nurse to a more prosperous family member in return for lodging, board and a socially accepted position. It could be an unenviable position, however, for spinsters were generally considered inferior beings and the maiden aunt, sister or daughter denied marriage often found herself an object of pity to be shunted between relatives and treated little better than a domestic servant.

For those gently born women without family upon whom they could depend, one of the few paid occupations available to them was that of companion or governess. For women forced into this position there was usually little to look forward to beyond a lifetime of drudgery, submission and what Kitty Charing in
Cotillion
perceived as ‘the slights and snubs which were a governess’s portion’. A few women, such as Ancilla Trent in
The Nonesuch
, deliberately chose to support themselves through teaching rather than burden their families, but for those women of good birth such a decision generally placed them outside their accustomed social circle. Ancilla knew only too well that by becoming a governess a woman automatically reduced her social standing. Apart from teaching, the only other genteel occupations available to an upper-class female were that of dressmaker or milliner, neither of which would allow her to retain her place within society. Although there were a few exceptions, the many constraints placed upon women during this period and social expectations in general made it very difficult to aspire to any status other than that of wife and mother regardless of intellect or scholarly interests. For those women unable to marry the prospects could be bleak.

On the Town

The Season and the Little Season

Running from late January to early July, for the upper class the Season was the social high period of the year. Parliament began sitting in January—the signal for the move to town to commence—but many families delayed their return to the metropolis as the Season did not get into full swing until March or April. Centred in London, it took place during the (ideally) pleasant spring months and consisted of an endless round of balls, assemblies, theatre parties, military reviews, masquerades, dances, routs, alfresco breakfasts and any other gay or dashing entertainment that an ambitious host or hostess could conceive of within the bounds of propriety. For those upper-class families with a country seat and children to marry off, the Season was the time to return to London and take up residence in an owned or rented town house somewhere in Mayfair in order to play the ‘marriage market’. Arabella, growing up in the very restricted society of Heythram in Yorkshire, longed to visit London where she might enjoy the balls, assemblies, theatre parties and other pleasures of the Season. For those on the social fringe, the hangers-on, the genteel and the well-bred but impoverished, the Season was also an opportunity to catch a rich husband or wife.

Parliament rose in June and families would retire to their country estate or to a seaside resort such as Brighton. London could be unbearable in the summer months and was thought by many to be fetid and unhealthy. In
The Spanish Bride
, Harry Smith’s young wife Juana watched the city grow thin of company in late June and endured many hot, dull days in the capital while waiting for news of her husband. A return to town in September was considered acceptable, however, and many among the upper class came back to London for the Little Season, which lasted until early November when the fox-hunting began and there was a general retreat to the country. The Little Season also provided an opportunity for some girls to be brought out in advance of the Season proper and to try their social wings a little before embarking on the intense round of engagements that made up the Season. If it hadn’t been for old Lady Bugle’s untimely death in
Charity Girl
which meant the family were in mourning, her granddaughter Oenone might have come out during the Little Season in the autumn rather than having to wait until the following year.

Almack’s

Of all the venues in Regency London, Almack’s was undoubtedly the most exclusive. Founded in 1763 by a Scotsman, William Macall, it derived its name from a simple reversal of the two syllables of Macall’s surname. Macall became known as William Almack and the original Almack’s was a gambling club in St James’s Street which eventually became the famous Brooks’s club. In 1764 Almack commissioned the building of a magnificent set of rooms on a site in King Street, behind St James’s Square, in the centre of fashionable London. Almack’s opened on 20 February 1765 with a subscription price of ten guineas which admitted the purchaser to the three rooms where a ball and a supper were held once a week for twelve weeks. In its early years, Almack’s also provided the venue for a ladies’ gambling club where those fashionable and aristocratic women who gained admission to the rooms could meet over cards and engage in deep play. In 1781 Almack’s niece inherited the rooms and her husband, the keen-eyed and knowing Mr Willis, oversaw the running of the club and became famous as its imperturbable and ever-courteous doorkeeper. Not every visitor to Almack’s was favoured with the attention of the great Mr Willis but Freddy Standen in
Cotillion
was an agreeable guest and a graceful dancer and was well-liked by the powerful doorkeeper.

Determined from the outset to make the club sought-after and exclusive, Almack set up a management committee of high-born ladies responsible for administering the vouchers which were the only means of gaining the tickets required for entry to the rooms. Thus were the patronesses established, and their autocratic rule quickly gained a hold over upper-class society, to the extent that one aspirant likened the pursuit of tickets of admission to Almack’s to the Quest for the Holy Grail. Undoubtedly, part of the attraction was the difficulty in acquiring the necessary voucher. With the number on the list never exceeding two thousand, only those ladies and gentlemen who met with the approval of one or more of the lady patronesses would be so honoured. The challenge lay in determining what might win their approbation. As Eugenia Wraxton warned Miss Stanton-Lacy in
The Grand Sophy
, neither birth nor fortune could guarantee a voucher, although beauty, wit and careful dressing could open the doors, and a graceful dancer or person of taste might win approval and thereby gain admittance to the hallowed rooms.

The allocation of vouchers was decided in a weekly meeting during which the committee determined who, in addition to those already in the visiting books, would receive the coveted honour. Self-elected to their roles as arbiters of taste and fashion, the patronesses were frequently despotic in their rule and arbitrary in the selection of attendees. Offending any one of them could mean permanent exclusion from the club. Even the most nobly born persons were subject to their whims and idiosyncratic rules and many among the aristocracy sought their approval in vain. Even with the most eligible connections Gussie Yarford, Lady Appleby, in
Friday’s Child
, could not get a voucher to Almack’s. For those fortunate enough to gain admittance a set of strict rules was laid down and even the most notable in society were required to abide by them. The Duke of Wellington was turned away from the doors on two occasions: once, for arriving after eleven o’clock, at which time the rooms were closed to all newcomers, and again for attending in pantaloons instead of the requisite formal evening wear of knee-breeches. Peregrine Taverner in
Regency Buck
was another who discovered to his chagrin just how inflexible were the rules and how despotic the patronesses.

It was the very exclusiveness of Almack’s and the extraordinary power and influence of the lady patronesses that made it so desirable. For many in the upper class it was
the
place to find a marriage partner, for, although the dancing was carefully regulated and the supper unremarkable, the company to be found there was guaranteed to be of the highest order. To receive a voucher was the ultimate in social
cachet.
As Frederica Merriville so clearly recognised in
Frederica
, to attend a ball at Almack’s was to announce to the polite world that a person had arrived, that they too belonged, by right of birth or fortune or personality. Acceptance by the
ton
was for many the ultimate goal and the ultimate achievement.

The Patronesses

The lady patronesses who ruled Almack’s during the Regency differed as much in looks and temperament as they did in their roles in high society. No more than six or seven women formed the committee at any one time and in 1814 five were well-born English ladies and two were foreigners. Lady Jersey, Lady Sefton, Lady Cowper, Lady Castlereagh, and Mrs Drummond-Burrell were all born into aristocratic English families while Countess Lieven was Russian and Princess Esterhazy was of German birth. Between them these women formed a cabal that wielded an extraordinary influence in London society for years.

Lady Jersey was born Lady Sarah Sophia Fane, the daughter of the tenth Earl of Westmorland. She married George, Viscount Villiers, and became Lady Jersey when her husband inherited the title and became the fifth Earl of Jersey. Her mother-in-law was the notorious Frances, Lady Jersey, mistress of George, Prince of Wales, later Prince Regent. Though not considered to be a great beauty, Sarah was intelligent and energetic, with a sense of humour appreciated by many but which evaded the notice of some in society. In certain circles she was ironically referred to as ‘Silence’ because of her propensity to talk non-stop, and also as ‘Queen Sarah’, although she was neither arrogant nor vain, despite being heiress to her grandfather’s substantial fortune. Considered by some to be affable and kind, and by others to be ill-bred, rude and something of a tragedienne, Lady Jersey was, above all, strict in maintaining the exclusivity of Almack’s. In
Frederica
, her powerful position as ‘Queen of London’s most exclusive club’ was a source of anger and humiliation to Lady Buxted, who needed a voucher for her plain daughter Jane from the woman to whom she had in earlier years been rude and condescending. A high-stickler, Lady Jersey would admit only those known to dance well and was rigorous in upholding the club’s unbending rules, although it was she who was credited with bringing from France a new dance, the quadrille, to Almack’s in 1815.

Lady Sefton was considered the kindest of the patronesses, with an amiable disposition which made her rather more approachable than the rest. She married the well-known dandy William Philip Molyneux, 2nd Earl of Sefton, and she and her husband became notable society hosts with a wide circle of friends among members of the aristocracy. The Seftons were very fond of house parties, balls, the theatre and the opera where they had a box which they kindly lent to friends and acquaintances (including Sherry and Hero of
Friday’s Child
).

Mary Lamb became Lady Cowper when she married the fifth Earl Cowper in 1805. She was the daughter of the first Lord Melbourne and of Lady Melbourne, the great Whig hostess. Neither as powerful as Lady Jersey nor as exclusive, Lady Cowper was the most popular of the patronesses. She was admired for her wit, her tact and her affability. It was Lady Cowper who was most likely to smooth over quarrels among the patronesses or smile approval on a new bride or debutante; in
Frederica
, though, the Marquis of Alverstoke was advised not to apply to Lady Cowper for vouchers for his wards on account of her deep distress over the death of her mother.

Heiress to the second Earl of Buckinghamshire, Lady Castlereagh was one of the most formidable of the Almack’s patronesses. Born Lady Emily Anne Hobart she married Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, and quickly became known for her elegance and hauteur. She was not as powerful a patroness as Lady Jersey or Lady Cowper but to win her approval, as Jenny Chawleigh did in
A Civil Contract
, could ensure acceptance by the
ton
.