Jennifer Kloester Page 6

  For a younger son of noble birth but modest means, the hope was that he would marry an heiress or at least a well-born woman of property. The difficulty was that younger sons were considered, for the most part, a very poor bargain when compared with the eldest son and heir, and they often married those younger daughters of the nobility who had not managed to find a wealthier husband. As the elder of aristocratic twin brothers, Evelyn Fancot of False Colours was deemed a far more desirable parti than his equally handsome and charming sibling, Kit. Although arranged marriages were less common during the Regency than they once had been, among the aristocracy and the royal family they were considered an important way of safeguarding or strengthening bloodlines, family fortunes and inheritances. The Duke of Sale felt compelled to offer for the hand of Lady Harriet Presteigne when it was made clear to him in The Foundling that his uncle had arranged the marriage and Lady Harriet was expecting his proposal. Sometimes parents (especially fathers) exercised a right of veto over their offspring’s choice of marriage partner, although such injunctions were not necessarily adhered to and determined sons and daughters would flout parental authority and either marry by special licence or elope to Gretna Green as Gerard Monksleigh persuaded his young love to do in Bath Tangle. It was rare, however, even for an eloped couple to marry outside their social circle or where there was no fortune on at least one side.

  BUCKS, BEAUS AND DANDIES

  The buck: The term generally referred to the bloods or sporting types, but could also mean a man of spirit. The buck usually stood out from the crowd and a ‘buck of the first head’ was a man who pursued every kind of pleasure and often surpassed his friends in debauchery.

  The beau: Despite the literal meaning of the word, a man did not have to be handsome to be a beau. Although several of the Regency beaus had pleasing countenances, the epithet was applied more on the basis of a man’s place in the fashionable world rather than his looks or dress. A beau was a leader in society like Sir Richard Wyndham of The Corinthian and while he was often an arbiter of fashion, he could also acquire the nickname as a result of his manners, eccentricities, noble rank, clever wit or some other trait that set him apart or made him notorious. To be a beau, a man needed either vanity, idiosyncrasy, a desire for attention or remarkable good looks and town polish but, above all, he had to have ‘Presence’.

  The Corinthian: This term described the well-dressed athlete. A Corinthian was a man who, as Mr Beaumaris told Arabella in Arabella, ‘besides being a very Tulip of Fashion, is an amateur of sport, a master of sword-play, a deadly fellow with a pistol, a Nonpareil amongst whips’. He generally excelled in all the sporting pursuits including fencing, single-stick, boxing, hunting, shooting and tooling his carriage—usually a curricle—preferably with the kind of skill that would see him admitted to the Four-Horse Club. He would also be a man of good character addicted to all forms of sport, at home among all classes and able to cut a dash at Almack’s or blow a cloud with the roughest pugilist at Cribb’s Parlour.

  The dandy: The word ‘dandy’ came into fashion in about 1813 and was used to describe any man who paid particular attention to his clothes and appearance. The Regency was the great age of the dandy and they were the leaders of fashion during this period. Until 1816 Brummell was their king; it was he who ordained that a well-dressed man concentrated on clean linen, exquisite tailoring, a perfectly tied neckcloth, a dark, well-cut coat and a general air of understatement. The elite circle of men who gambled, drank and played together set the fashion for a host of eager imitators, many of whom aspired to join their ranks. Mere clothes could not make a man a dandy, however, nor grant him admission to the inner ranks of the dandy set. A true dandy, such as Gervase Frant, seventh Earl of St Erth, esteemed not just the cut of his coat, but also wit, learning, artistic appreciation, a reserve of manner that seemed like arrogance to lesser mortals, and a demeanour so calm that nothing could impair it. A dandy was generally uninterested in sporting ventures, although he might be proficient in some or all of them.

  The Nonesuch or Nonpareil: He was the incomparable man, one who excelled in all the manly pursuits but was also an arbiter of fashion and a leader in all things aesthetic. He was a man of taste, a person people deferred to, watched and often slavishly copied. He was a setter of fashion, not merely a follower, and, as Sir Waldo Hawkridge explained to Miss Trent in The Nonesuch, his appellation was applied by those who admired his handling of the ribbons, his manners, dress and his athletic ability.

  Pinks and tulips: These names of beautiful flowers were used by the Regency sporting journalist Pierce Egan to denote exceptionally well-turned-out gentlemen. A pink was a man at the height of fashion and a tulip was a fine fellow who dressed well.

  The fop: Like the dandy, the fop took an absorbing interest in his clothes. Unlike the dandy, however, the fop dressed for show, adorning his person with clothes of bold or unusual design or hue and embellishing them with ostentatious jewels, frills and furbelows. The fop craved attention and did everything in his power to draw the eye of the passer-by. He was frequently a chatterer and usually deemed a vain fool by his peers. Sir Nugent Fotherby in Sylvester was the epitome of a fop with his rings, diamond pin, fobs and seals, his extravagant neckcloth, exotic waistcoats and specially designed boots. Many fops aspired to set a trend or create a new fashion and some took their clothes to extraordinary extremes—such as wearing their shirt collars so high that they could not turn their heads or wearing voluminous trousers or coats with overlong tails.

  A fop such as Sir Nugent Fotherby in Sylvester drew every eye with his extravagant dress and accessories.

  A fribble: An effeminate fop, derived from a character in David Garrick’s eighteenth-century farce Miss in her Teens.

  A Bartholomew baby: A person dressed in tawdry or gaudy clothes like the dolls on sale at Bartholomew Fair.

  A coxcomb: A particularly foolish and conceited fop.

  4

  The Gentle Sex

  THE REGENCY WOMAN

  To be born an upper-class woman during the Regency meant being raised to a particular expectation of what that role entailed. As ‘the gentle sex’, women were meant to be both ignorant and devoid of the various vices of the more ‘natural’ man and were generally not expected to have opinions or ideas of a political nature. In Black Sheep, Abigail Wendover’s brother was appalled to learn that she not only knew all about the hero’s rakish past, but had been informed of it by the hero himself. For the most part, a woman’s life was a domestic one and, whether or not she was married and regardless of class, it was accepted that her primary talents were all associated with running a household, bearing children, and being ‘ornamental’. Innocence was also held to be a virtue in the female—both in knowledge and experience—and the fact that many women were extremely knowledgeable and aware of life’s realities was often disguised or kept below the surface veneer of respectable and acceptable behaviour.

  Beauty, taste, modesty, manners, a strong sense of duty and a desire to make a good marriage were esteemed as the most desirable female attributes and girls were trained from birth to abide by the restrictions placed upon them and to conform to their parents’—and later their husband’s—expectations. In The Foundling, Lady Harriet’s mother made it quite clear that, once married, her daughter should turn a blind eye to her husband’s affaires but that she too could take a lover once she had given birth to an heir. That many upper-class women stepped outside the boundaries once they were married, and especially once they had produced an heir, is clear and the lives of society women such as Lady Cowper, the Duchess of Devonshire, Lady Oxford, Lady Hertford and even the Regent’s wife, Princess Caroline, all bear witness to the flexible morality and often dynamic choices that these women made. Upper-class Regency women understood their world and its often contradictory rules, and frequently chose not only not to play by them but also to manipulate and use them to their advantage. While the general expectation was that a woman should be docile and tractabl
e and look to the man for leadership, in many cases women found their own paths to some form of independent thought or behaviour. Lady Hester Theale in Sprig Muslin, at twenty-nine and still unmarried, was regarded by her father and her family as an ‘encumbrance’. When she turned down an offer of a brilliant marriage, they were furious and tried to persuade her to do otherwise, but Hester’s mind and inner life were very much her own and she responded to their demands through a mist of vague responses and an apparent acquiescence that disguised a strong will and a delightful sense of humour.

  Within the highly structured class system of England during the Regency, one of the ways in which the aristocracy kept themselves apart from the masses was by creating their own rules, restrictions and a system of etiquette that enabled them to recognise and connect with those of their own order. This system of behaviour was instilled into young women from an early age and they quickly learned that to forget propriety or step outside the rules was the prerogative only of the royal, the very rich, the eccentric or the outcast. In considering her future, Venetia Lanyon in Venetia was aware that some women—like Lady Hester Stanhope and the Ladies of Llangollen—chose to renounce the world and live free of social convention, but she also recognised that it was not a choice available to her. A woman’s reputation was among her most important assets, along with her breeding, her fortune and her looks. Propriety demanded that emotions be kept tightly controlled in public, and it was expected that most situations would be met with composure and an appropriate degree of gravity. Displays of temper or too much humour or levity were considered quite unbecoming, ‘funning’ being acceptable only within certain subject boundaries and in appropriate situations and environments. Anthea in The Unknown Ajax was ‘too-lively’ for absolute propriety and had a ready tongue which her mother constantly tried to curb. Ironically, however, hysterics, fainting fits and swooning were accepted—even expected—where a woman, such as Mrs Dauntry in Frederica, was known to have an ‘excess of sensibility’.

  Language was also carefully regulated since a young woman could quickly be stigmatised as a ‘hoyden’ if she showed herself to be too familiar with the language of the stables, spoke her mind or showed herself to be knowledgeable about male pursuits such as gambling, boxing and the muslin company. Hero, the youthful and disastrously innocent bride in Friday’s Child, was chastised by her husband for asking about his ‘opera-dancer’ and had to be instructed in the ways of the world by a brotherly friend. The social, cultural, economic and intellectual restraints imposed on Regency women—and single girls in particular—repressed many of their natural inclinations and life could be tedious for an upper-class lady faced with a limited number of activities with which to occupy her time and mind. The death of a family member, even a distant connection, could restrict her activities still further as society expected dutiful females to be in mourning and observe the proprieties by absenting themselves from dances, balls and most other social events, usually for quite some time. Lady Serena Carlow of Bath Tangle chafed at the restrictions imposed on ladies in mourning after her father’s tragic death, and found the limitations of life in Bath almost intolerable. For some women these limits on behaviour and occupation often resulted in bouts of illness and the regular use of opiates such as laudanum.

  Sophy Stanton-Lacy in The Grand Sophy outraged

  Miss Wraxton by driving her down the exclusive

  male precinct of St James’s Street.

  Although a woman was denied the freedoms available to a man, there were some significant exceptions to the apparently rigid rules of etiquette and manners, but only for those firmly established within the ton. Much might be forgiven the lady of impeccable lineage, and a great deal allowed to the girl of vast fortune, although London society could be ruthless in excluding anyone judged to have stepped outside the bounds of propriety. It was Sophy’s position as the popular Sir Horace Stanton-Lacy’s daughter that, in The Grand Sophy, enabled her to drive her carriage down the men-only precinct of St James’s Street without creating a scandal. Although Sophy’s independent ways, forthright speech, dashing appearance and mastery of horse and pistol shocked some among society’s elite, her personality, social connections and breeding enabled her to do things which would have seen other, less well-positioned women instantly ostracised. As the centre of the Regency world, London had its own particular set of rules which differed—mainly by degree—from the rules directing behaviour in rural England or in the family home. Some activities (such as waltzing) that were severely frowned on in more rural regions, might be permissible, even fashionable, in London; yet sometimes the reverse was true—a young woman, for instance, might indulge in certain activities in her home district (such as carriage-racing or riding alone) that, if repeated in the metropolis, would see her frowned upon or even ostracised in polite circles. Marianne Bolderwood was warned against waltzing by her mama when she attended a ball at Stanyon Castle in The Quiet Gentleman for she had yet to make her London debut and any hint of such forward behaviour from a girl not yet out ran the risk of being censured by the patronesses of Almack’s. For those bred to its rules and expectations, however, the social whirl of the London Season could be a glittering, exciting, romantic world full of promise and possibilities.

  ALL THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS

  Beyond learning to read and acquiring enough arithmetic to manage the household accounts, girls were not expected to acquire an education in the same way as boys. Although it was not uncommon for upper-class women to learn French or Italian this was perceived as a useful social skill rather than an intellectual endeavour. In addition to the reading, writing, arithmetic and basic general knowledge imparted in the schoolroom, girls were mainly instructed in the domestic arts and expected to acquire a number of accomplishments such as singing, watercolour painting, fine embroidery and an ability to play the pianoforte or the harp, and a girl’s leisure time was generally spent engaged in one of these activities. In The Toll-Gate, Lady Charlotte Calne was prevailed upon by several of the assembled company to show off her accomplishments by playing the harp and singing for them as part of the evening’s entertainment (although there were some who wished she hadn’t). Children of both sexes participated in physical games with friends or siblings, but young women were expected to become less boisterous as they approached adolescence and confine their main physical activities to walking or riding.

  Circulating libraries such as Hookham’s in London, Donaldson’s in

  Brighton and Duffield’s and Meyler’s in Bath were especially popular

  with young ladies during the Regency.

  Although many well-bred young women were educated at home, during the Regency it was not uncommon for the daughters of gentlemen to attend a ladies’ seminary as either a boarder or a day student. Cherry Steane in Charity Girl was a student at Miss Fletching’s school in Bath where she spent several happy years before being sent to live with her Aunt Bugle in Hampshire. Such institutions were often established in a private home by an impoverished gentlewoman with enough capital to set up a small school, or by one of a handful of progressive female educators with a vision of women as being something more than purely ornamental. Most seminaries offered what was described as ‘a comprehensive education’ which included languages, the womanly arts, music and acceptable outdoor leisure activities. Correct posture and deportment (with use of the backboard) were also taught, as were manners, etiquette and the kind of elegancy of mind considered essential to a prettily behaved girl. As the rise of industry saw a corresponding increase in the wealthy merchant class, the desire to see his daughters creditably established (preferably wed to a member of the aristocracy) led more than one ambitious and affluent tradesman to send them to one of London’s or Bath’s more exclusive seminaries in the hope that they might establish advantageous connections with the daughters of the upper class. In A Civil Contract, wealthy merchant Jonathan Chawleigh sent his daughter Jenny to Miss Satterleigh’s Seminary for the Daughters of Gentlemen in Kensi
ngton for precisely that reason.

  In addition to knowing how to behave it was also vital for a debutante to demonstrate her prowess in at least one of the accepted female accomplishments. Singing, watercolour painting, fine embroidery, dancing, sketching and the ability to play an instrument, such as the harp or the pianoforte, were considered essential skills for the young lady about to make her come-out. Grace, elegance, poise and good posture were deemed evidence of good breeding, and simplicity of presentation—without affectation, simpering or false modesty—when singing, reciting poetry or playing an instrument was applauded as entirely becoming to a virtuous young woman. Judith Taverner won approval for her unaffected performance on the piano during her week-long stay with the Duke and Duchess of Rutland at Belvoir Castle in Regency Buck, and Charis Merriville in Frederica was judged to have a simplicity of manner which only enhanced her beauty. In addition to practical skills, books and magazine articles encouraged well-bred women to cultivate a manner which was charming yet simple, amiable though reserved, sensitive but not overmuch and expressive yet refined. Thoughts and opinions (on appropriate subjects) were expected to be elegantly expressed in a well-modulated voice and with just the right amount of deference to one’s social superiors and the exact modicum of condescension to lesser mortals. In The Spanish Bride, Juana’s limited English made communication with her new sister-in-law difficult, but Mrs Sargant’s uncertainty about her brother’s young wife was somewhat allayed by Juana’s low, musical voice and evident good breeding. During the Regency the art of conversation gradually became more valued as a womanly accomplishment among the upper class, as arranged marriages became less common and women came to be seen more as companions and less as mere adjuncts to their husbands.