Georgette Heyer's Regency World (13 page)

Theatre-going was remarkably informal and it was perfectly acceptable to arrive part of the way through a performance, to talk loudly throughout or to leave at any point as Edward Yardley’s evening party chose to do in
Venetia
after Mrs Hendred was distressed by unexpected events. The pit was a favourite venue among the dandy set as a place to meet with friends, converse, show off the latest fashion, take snuff and ogle the ladies, both on stage and in the audience. It was quite normal for members of the audience to express loudly their disapproval of any aspect of a performance and they would call out, stamp their feet or throw things at the actors if they were unhappy. Opera was very popular during the Regency—although Bertram Tallant in
Arabella
confessed that he wanted to go to a night at the opera not for the music but for the fun of strolling in Fops’ Alley. One of the most notable evenings at the opera was 11 June 1814 when the Prince Regent, Tsar Alexander, his sister the Grand Duchess Catherine of Oldenburg, and King Frederick of Prussia attended Covent Garden theatre as part of the Peace Celebrations. The defiant arrival of the Regent’s estranged wife, Princess Caroline, during the singing of ‘God Save the King’ was especially satisfying to the many lovers of real drama present in the theatre and was the highlight of the evening for Lydia Deveril of
A Civil Contract
, who was at the theatre that night attending her first public function as a debutante. Both Covent Garden and Drury Lane staged operas and ballets, though less often than the more traditional theatre programme, which usually consisted of a straight drama followed by a farce. Evenings at the theatre could take as long as five hours and often did not end before midnight. The farce was generally the most popular part of the evening and so compelled patrons to stay to the end.

Many of the great names of the theatre performed for Regency audiences. Mrs Siddons came out of retirement to perform briefly in 1812, her brothers Charles and John Kemble were major theatrical figures and the brilliant, but difficult, Edmund Kean became a huge hit after his London debut at Drury Lane in 1814 where he appeared as Shylock. He was probably most famous for his Hamlet, a performance to which Freddy Standen of
Cotillion
had once escorted his mother and which had Lydia Deveril in
A Civil Contract
in raptures. The great clown Grimaldi, whose costume, make-up and comic style created a tradition (and whose performance was fondly remembered by the Duke of Sale in
The Foundling
); the ‘bewitching debutante’ Vestris with her ‘divine legs’, her wit and her singing; and the opera singers Catalani and Naldi, all drew huge crowds and the favours and attention of the nobility.

In the Parks

Hyde Park was a favourite destination for people from every walk of life during the Regency. Beginning at the western end of Piccadilly, with three hundred and fifty acres of green lawns, groves of shady trees, meandering pathways and the Serpentine river, it was a delightful place to promenade and play. For the men and women of the
ton
it was
the
place to be seen during the Season between the hours of 5.00 and 6.00 in the afternoon. Ladies often walked with a friend or female companion, wearing the latest style of walking costume or promenade dress and their most fetching hat or bonnet, all the while hoping to catch the eye of some eligible bachelor. The dandies loved to promenade or ‘go on the strut’, ogling the ladies and observing other bucks and beaus to ensure that they too were wearing the very latest in fashionable attire. This was the place for lovers to meet and for those of the
demi-monde
—fair Cyprians and richly dressed courtesans—to make assignations with interested gentlemen. Hyde Park was the great crossroads at which all classes of Regency society arrived and jostled, admired, ignored, mimicked, mocked and avoided each other.

Hyde Park was originally the site of the ancient manor house of Hyde, owned by the monastery of St Peter’s, Westminster, but which was taken over by Henry VIII in 1536. At the end of the seventeenth century, when King William III moved his court to nearby Kensington Palace, he regularly had to make his way through Hyde Park from the Palace to St James’s. Finding it to be dark and dangerous, the King ordered the way to be lit. Three hundred oil lamps lined the highway which was known for a time as the ‘
Route de Roi’
(Way of the King) but which eventually came to be known more familiarly as ‘Rotten Row’. Just inside the perimeter of Hyde Park, Rotten Row was a broad roadway that ringed the entire park and on which visitors were able to walk, ride a horse or drive a carriage. During the Regency, riding and driving were the exclusive domain of the upper classes and those with the means to aspire to membership in it. Young Lady Cardross in
April Lady
could often be seen driving around Rotten Row in the stylish barouche drawn by a pair of perfectly matched greys and given to her by her husband on the occasion of their marriage. Only those who could afford to wear the correct attire and keep a horse in London (with all the attendant expenses) or hire a hack from one of the large commercial stables could afford to ride in Rotten Row. People from every section of society would throng to Hyde Park during the hour of the promenade to watch the well-heeled of society dash past on a magnificent thoroughbred or showy hack or drive by in a high-perch phaeton, a stylish barouche or a smart sporting curricle.

The Prince Regent was a regular visitor to the park. A keen rider throughout his life, his growing corpulence saw him less on horseback and more frequently tooling a phaeton, tilbury or curricle drawn by one or more pairs of beautiful high-stepping horses. The Prince was well known as a skilful whip and had been acknowledged since his youth as a top sawyer and for his ability to drive a carriage-and-six (a feat matched by few men of the day). Men and women frequently rode together on Rotten Row, the women riding side-saddle and wearing the latest thing in elegant riding habits, and the men in leather breeches, top-boots, a well-cut coat and the compulsory starched neckcloth. Moving at a sedate walk, a stylish trot or a graceful canter (galloping was forbidden), riders wended their way between the many carriages, pedestrians and onlookers that crowded the Row during the promenade hour, bowing to acquaintances, stopping to talk to friends or comparing notes on the horses and owners that surrounded them. In
The Grand Sophy
, Sophy Stanton-Lacy attracted great admiration when riding her beautiful horse Salamanca in Hyde Park although she was chided for galloping there.

Situated twelve miles from St Paul’s Cathedral, Richmond Park was a favourite destination for Londoners eager for a day away from the city. The perfect distance from London for keen riders, and ideal for a gentleman wishing to take a lady out in his carriage, Richmond offered a beautiful sylvan setting for walks, rides and picnics. Rolling hills, grassy slopes, woodland gardens, groves of ancient trees and herds of red and fallow deer made it an enticing spot for visitors, and the varied landscape was especially tempting to those energetic riders and accomplished equestriennes, such as Phoebe Marlow in
Sylvester
, who, after the constraints of Rotten Row, yearned for a gallop across the two and a half thousand acres of this largest royal park.

During the Regency visitors to London’s parks witnessed several grand spectacles including military reviews, parades and grand celebrations. The Prince Regent had a great love of ceremony and spectacle and throughout his Regency there were many opportunities for the people to read about or see some of the splendid celebrations devised by or for the pleasure-loving Prince. Perhaps the most memorable series of spectacles staged during the Regency was the Visit of the Allied Sovereigns and the grand jubilee celebrations held between June and August 1814, which excited the interest of Lady Lynton and her guests in
A Civil Contract
. Napoleon had accepted defeat, abdicated and gone into exile on Elba that year, the Peace had been declared and the sovereigns were meeting in London to mark the occasion. In addition to a lavish programme of banquets, balls, parades and gala nights at the theatre, the Regent ordered a series of extravagant celebrations in London’s three main parks. This public celebration of the Peace which Jenny, Lady Lynton, was so keen to see, began on 1 August 1814, and lasted for nearly two weeks, ending on the Regent’s birthday on 12 August. As Jenny’s husband, Adam, had predicted, huge crowds filled the parks, and traditional Bartholomew Fair booths and refreshment stands were set up all around the perimeter, with many alehouses also erecting tents. The highlight of the celebrations was the Grand Spectacle commencing in Hyde Park just before 6.00 p.m. with a manned balloon ascent and a naumachia, or naval battle, on the Serpentine. Purpose-built small-scale ships with both men and guns aboard fought each other in a re-enactment of Nelson’s great victory at the famous Battle of Trafalgar. In St James’s Park a Chinese bridge and seven-storey pagoda had been built over the canal and at dusk this was lit with a mass of lanterns to the great delight of the crowd. In Green Park a hundred-foot-high fortress had been built to represent the ‘Castle of Discord’ and at a given signal a huge fireworks display, organised by the famous scientist William Congreve (inventor of the Congreve rocket), was set off from the fortress, while on the Serpentine the enemy ships were set alight, and in St James’s Park rockets were shot from the top of the Chinese pagoda. As the fireworks ended a wondrous transformation took place as the Castle of Discord was engulfed in smoke to be revealed as a magnificently illuminated Temple of Concord. This symbol of peace marked the end of the evening’s events but at midnight the pagoda caught fire and crashed to the ground, to the delight of many in the crowd who thought it was part of the celebrations. For days after the grand display, revellers lingered in Hyde Park, enjoying the refreshment booths and all the attractions of the fair which had sprung up, but drunkenness and debauchery quickly took hold and on 6 August the Secretary of State, Lord Sidmouth, ordered the crowd dispersed and the parks closed.

Balloon ascensions were another popular spectacle which drew wondering crowds to London’s parks during the Regency. The first manned balloon ascension in Great Britain took place in Edinburgh in August 1784 when Mr Tyler travelled half a mile before landing. The first ascent in England was achieved a month later, by the Italian, Vincent Lunardi, whose thirty-three-foot-wide, pear-shaped balloon was made of oiled silk and had no valve. Painted red and blue and covered with a rope net, from which hung long cords for attaching the basket, the balloon was filled through the neck with hydrogen gas made from a mixture of zinc and diluted sulphuric acid. Lunardi took a dog, a cat and a pigeon on his first voyage and, after unloading some sand ballast, rose to a great height before landing in South Mimms to unload the near-frozen cat. In 1785, Mrs Sage accompanied Lunardi on a flight and became the first Englishwoman to ascend in a balloon. By the time of the Regency, however, balloon ascensions had become a popular sight and aeronauts would take off from Hyde Park or other London parks in front of huge crowds. Despite the popularity of balloon ascensions they were often extremely dangerous undertakings—as young Felix Merriville and his family discovered in
Frederica
. Flying at the mercy of the wind and weather a balloon could tear, capsize or be blown out to sea. Fire was always a risk and gas explosions a real possibility if an overfilled balloon rose too high, and it was the freezing temperatures of high altitude that made Felix’s hands so cold that he was unable to stop himself from falling after the balloon he was travelling in landed in a tree.

The Pleasure Haunts of London

Carlton House

Acquired by the Prince of Wales on his coming of age in 1783, Carlton House was a small but exquisitely beautiful palace situated at the eastern end of Pall Mall. For many years it remained the Regent’s principal residence in London, where he played host to so many of his close friends and intimates that they became known as the ‘Carlton House set’. The Earl of Worth in
Regency Buck
was a member of the Regent’s set as was the irrepressible Bardy Lynton in
A Civil Contract
. The Regent was famous for his parties and private dinners with their extravagant meals and opulent decorations. Arabella Tallant, the heroine of
Arabella,
attended a dress party at Carlton House and was dazzled by the magnificent rooms and elegant decorations although she was less impressed by the extraordinary vaulted glass-and-cast-iron conservatory to which Mr Beaumaris kindly escorted her. After the French Revolution the Prince had acquired many superb pieces of French royal furniture and priceless artworks including ornaments, paintings, clocks and candelabra, and during his Regency he spared no expense in decorating and redecorating Carlton House to create the opulent interior that so impressed Jenny Chawleigh in
A Civil Contract
when she attended the Regent’s famous fête held in honour of the Duke of Wellington in 1814. Although some among the
ton
felt that Prinny’s whims were often vulgar—as when he played host at a sit-down dinner for two thousand in 1811 and the main table had a stream flowing down its centre (complete with bridges, mossy banks and live goldfish)—most agreed that Carlton House with its magnificent chandeliers, draperies, furniture, elegant staircase, statuary and crimson, gold and blue interior was one of the most exquisite palaces in Europe.

Clubs, Pubs and Pleasure

The pursuit of pleasure was undoubtedly encouraged by the club culture of Regency London. Most upper-class men belonged to one or more of the exclusive gentlemen’s clubs established in the previous century with Watier’s (also known as ‘the Great-Go’), White’s, Boodle’s and Brooks’s the most famous of them all. Membership was gained by nomination and ballot, with birth and family connections the most important prerequisites for admission. In the early part of the Regency (prior to his being forced to go abroad in 1816 because of gambling debts), George ‘Beau’ Brummell had the power to determine whether a man was accepted as a member at Watier’s or excluded—as was Sir Montagu Revesby in
Friday’s Child
—via the ‘blackball’ system. Brooks’s and White’s were the most political of the clubs with Brooks’s being well known as a Whig stronghold whereas during the Regency White’s had a definite Tory leaning. White’s was also famous for its bow-window in which the dandies, led by Brummell, were wont to sit and ogle passers-by.

Situated on or around the exclusive male precinct of St James’s Street, the clubs were the first point of refuge for the Regency man who wished to escape, as Lord Ombersley often did in
The Grand Sophy
, from the exigencies of domestic life and the company of women. They were popular venues, with gambling very much to the fore and bets of any kind—no matter how frivolous or outrageous—engaged in and often recorded in White’s famous betting book as Mr Liversedge pointed out to Captain Ware in
The Foundling
when offering him a most unusual wager. Card and dice games were a favourite form of gambling: faro, Macao, whist and hazard were all played for high stakes with many fortunes won or lost on the turn of a card or the roll of the dice. But the clubs were also a meeting place for those who wished to discuss business, politics, the latest sporting news or hear the most recent information from the Continent—it was in the clubs on St James’s Street that many men first heard the news of Wellington’s victory at Waterloo—and they were the place to form important business and social connections.

White’s club (37 St James’s Street) was established in 1697 and remains the oldest club in London. Originally opened by Francis White in 1693 as White’s Chocolate House, it occupied several locations in St James’s Street, including the site of what is now Boodle’s. From its inception, White’s attracted the cream of England’s upper class although neither wit, wealth nor birth guaranteed one’s election to the club. Members were elected by ballot in which at least twelve clubmen had to participate by dropping either a white ball, signifying approval, or a black ball to indicate exclusion. A single black ball was all it took to deny a man admission to the club. White’s flourished during the Regency and was renowned as the ‘home of the dandies’ with a dandy set led by Beau Brummell, elected a member in 1789. White’s was also, for a time, a Tory stronghold—although men of both parties continued as members—but after 1832 it became apolitical. As Peregrine Taverner in
Regency Buck
was aware, membership of White’s bestowed a certain distinction on a man and was an honour coveted by many among the upper class which made it a great relief when his guardian, the Earl of Worth, agreed to have him made a member.

Established in 1762, Boodle’s (28 St James’s Street) had originally been started as a club at 50 Pall Mall by William Almack, the founder of Almack’s. Originally known as the ‘Savoir Vivre’ it was eventually named after the manager Edward Boodle. In later years Boodle’s moved into a fine Adam-style building in St James’s Street on the original site of White’s club. Although it was a political club at its inception, Boodle’s shed its political inclinations early on and its members were content to gamble, partake of fine food, sit in the bow-window and enjoy the club’s calm and uneventful environment. Boodle’s was one of the clubs to which Lord Lionel Ware went to hear the gossip about his son and nephew in
The Foundling
.

Established in 1764, just two years after Boodle’s, Brooks’s (60 St James’s Street) was another of William Almack’s early clubs and was located for a time at 49 Pall Mall, next to the original Boodle’s site. Initially, it was a club inside a tavern until the members agreed to employ William Brooks to manage it and the club soon took on his name. Like White’s, Brooks’s was well known for its high-stakes gambling and during the Regency many fortunes exchanged hands at the tables in Brooks’s Great Subscription Room. Originally a young man’s club, and a meeting place for men of no particular political persuasion, by the end of the eighteenth century Brooks’s had become a noted Whig stronghold with the great orator and hedonist, Charles James Fox, as its leader. Fox’s death in 1806 did nothing to diminish the club’s Whiggish bent and many of the club’s noble members sat on the Opposition benches in the House of Lords although some, such as Adam Deveril of
A Civil Contract
, had Tory leanings but remained members of Brooks’s out of respect for their family tradition.

Watier’s (81 Piccadilly) appears to have been established originally as a venue for harmonic meetings but, in 1807, the Prince of Wales invited his chef Watier to start a club which would provide a cuisine superior to the more mundane fare offered at White’s or Brooks’s. Watier took over the rooms at 81 Piccadilly and offered such magnificent food that the club quickly became the talk of the town, drawing to it all the well-born young bucks and bloods of the day who initiated the high play and wild gambling for which Watier’s soon became notorious. Known as the ‘Great-Go’ and called by Byron ‘the Dandy Club’, Watier’s attracted members who were mostly men of fashion addicted to gaming and ready to throw a fortune away on a brief moment of chance. In
April Lady
, Watier’s was a favourite haunt of Nell Cardross’s pleasure-loving brother, Dysart, who enjoyed the fine dinners and high play. Beau Brummell was designated the club’s perpetual president until 1816 when his debts forced him into exile in France, and by 1819 most of the club’s leading members had sustained such enormous gambling losses that Watier’s closed its doors for ever.

The clubs made it easy for any well-bred man—whether married or single—to spend time away from home, and wives, sisters, mothers and daughters frequently accepted men’s need to escape from their female relatives from time to time. It was tacitly understood by many women that, in order to retain any respect for their menfolk, it was essential either to feign ignorance or to refrain from discovering exactly what men did do when they had escaped. Alcohol was an accepted part of Regency life and all classes imbibed huge quantities of wine, spirits and ale, the latter often drunk at breakfast. Among the upper class Madeira, sherry and brandy were the drinks of preference throughout the day and into the evening, while port was generally reserved as an after-dinner drink. Sir Richard Wyndham in
The Corinthian
imbibed a large enough quantity of brandy to become quite drunk the night before his planned proposal to the aristocratic Melissa Brandon, and on leaving the club felt compelled to go for a long walk to clear his head. Drunkenness was common, particularly among young men for whom it was deemed an acceptable condition. Enthusiastic youths bent on having fun, and possibly in London for the first time, could think of no occupation more desirable than to throw off a third of daffy (gin) at Limmer’s Hotel in the company of the fancy, or to drink beer while mixing with the sporting set at Cribb’s Parlour. To engage in a revel-rout or wine party and spend the night carousing, engaging in pranks (such as boxing the watch) and finishing the night in the watch-house was, for some, the height of ambition.

Other less salubrious venues popular with men during the Regency were the Daffy Club (a pugilistic setting), the Cock-pit Royal in Birdcage Walk, the Royal Saloon in Piccadilly, the Peerless Pool, and the Westminster Pit where men of all classes gathered to watch dog-fights. Boxing enthusiasts such as Sir Waldo Hawkridge in
The Nonesuch
or the Marquis of Alverstoke in
Frederica
could take themselves off to Gentleman John Jackson’s Boxing Saloon at 13 Bond Street where athletic men of fashion (known as Corinthians) could take lessons from the great man himself. Devotees of pugilism generally revered Jackson and eagerly attended his sparring matches at the Fives Court in London or the illicit bouts between the pets of the fancy which were usually set up within a couple of hours’ drive of the city.

Even those entertainments which men and women could enjoy together, such as the theatre, music and the opera, had an exclusively masculine side to them. Strolling in Fops’ Alley (the walkway between the pit and the stalls) at the opera, or lingering to admire the prostitutes known as Cyprians in the saloon at Covent Garden, was considered famous sport, while flirting with opera dancers or ogling the ladies in the audience were activities to which a man’s female companions were expected to turn a blind eye as Hero quickly learned in
Friday’s Child
. In addition to the theatre, concerts, opera, soirées, balls, parties and assemblies which were the usual evening activities for the
ton
, Regency men would often seek out the grog shops and brothels of Tothill Fields where they could drink quantities of cheaply distilled spirits and become blind drunk for just a few pence, or have their way with a prostitute for not much more. All the pleasures of the flesh were available to a man with money, and the elasticity of upper-class morality during the Regency meant that there was little that he could not do. For some, however—such as the Honourable Beverley Brandon in
The Corinthian
—years of debauched and dissipated living left them both financially and morally bankrupt.