Georgette Heyer's Regency World (6 page)

Regency society was largely a land- and property-based entity and the upper class drew its base income mainly from the rent paid by urban and rural tenants. Land was a precious and jealously guarded commodity and a son and heir who exploited his estate for his sole benefit (instead of maximising its productivity for the benefit of his family, his tenantry and the wider community), or who lost any part of his holdings through waste, mismanagement or profligate behaviour, was often looked down upon or even despised by the
ton
. Even for those landowners, such as Stacy Calverleigh in
Black Sheep
, who took no direct interest in their estates—leaving their management to an agent or bailiff—the idea of having to sell part of their land to fund debt was abhorrent. Some members of the aristocracy took an active interest in the management of their estates, ensuring that the land was worked effectively, tenants cared for and improvements made. In
A Civil Contract
, Adam Deveril was keenly interested in agriculture and making the most of his acres. He travelled from Lincolnshire to Norfolk to attend the famous Holkham Clippings at Thomas Coke’s pioneering estate and there meet with other farmers and learn as much as he could about new crops and methods of farming. Most landowners’ primary interest, however, was not in how their land was farmed but how much it paid them. To some it did not matter whether the income from their land came from the rents paid by tenant farmers, mining leases and the royalties paid on the coal, iron, tin or other metals dug from their land, from building leases or from the money paid to cut a canal through their estate. While the Regency lasted, land still equated to wealth, to power and to status and as such it remained an essential part of upper-class Regency life.

A Man’s World

Upper-class Regency Men

In Regency England men determined the legal, social and political order of things, and for many men in the moneyed upper ten thousand it was a hedonistic time devoted to entertainment, merriment and debauchery. Etiquette and protocols were often a mass of contradictions both within and between the classes. A man could marry for love or convenience or money or power, but he was not bound to be faithful. Discretion was hoped for, even expected, but if he failed in its delivery a man could still be accepted into the heart of the
ton
. Given the nature and indulgences of the Prince Regent himself, this was not surprising. So much of the grand self-indulgence, the immorality, the gambling, the ornamentation and the waste perpetrated by the upper class and condemned by the middle and lower classes was to be found in the actions of the once-loved, but now increasingly despised, Royal Prince. Although often well intentioned and with an eye for beauty and a love of the arts, the Prince Regent and his royal brothers (in particular the Dukes of Clarence, Cumberland and York) seemed to lead the way in almost every area of vice. Practically nothing was too extreme or too opulent or too expensive, making it difficult for criticism to be effectively levelled at those who followed their example. Lord Ombersley in
The Grand Sophy
was a particular friend of the Duke of York’s and, like him, pursued a life of pleasure which was marked by debt, mistresses and a sublime disregard for many of the proprieties laid down by the
ton
.

In his daily life the Regency man enjoyed a much wider range of entertainments than his female counterpart. Whereas a female’s reputation was among her most important assets, a male’s reputation was far more resistant to scandal. Married or single, a well-born and well-heeled man could frequently indulge in quite shocking behaviour on the streets and in the bars, brothels and gaming hells of Regency London without becoming a social outcast. Nell Cardross’s reprobate young brother Dysart engaged in all manner of outrageous pranks and even joined Lord Barrymore’s infamous Beggar’s Club without seriously endangering his social standing. When in society, however, he was bound to abide by the protocols and etiquette of his class, like most well-bred gentlemen who adhered to an unwritten code of honour that determined their behaviour in a range of social situations.

In elite social circles a man was expected to be elegant in both dress and manner when in public and to pay due deference to women and his social superiors. A man’s behaviour in private, when among other men or ‘in his cups’ (never in front of a lady), could be determined by a completely different set of much looser moral standards. In public a man was expected to adhere to the modes and manners of polite society in which, for example, open shows of affection were considered inappropriate and a kiss between a man and a woman denoted an intention to marry—assuming they were of the same class. Class was a powerful factor in determining a man’s behaviour, for a ‘gentleman’ might kiss or make up to a servant girl or country maid with a fair degree of impunity—although in
Sprig Muslin
the rakish old uncle sends a young servant girl, ‘unused to the ways of the Quality’, into hysterics. In general, the lower classes were expected to understand this sort of behaviour as the way of the Quality and accept that no serious relationship could be expected to result from it. In
The Unknown Ajax
, dandified Claud Darracott exemplifies this attitude by engaging in a series of flirtations with serving girls, dairymaids and, in the nearby town, the blacksmith’s daughter without any serious intention. Attitudes of the upper class to the middle class were very different, however, and only a scoundrel such as Sir Montagu Revesby in
Friday’s Child
would stoop to seducing a respectable girl of good family and subsequently deserting her and their bastard child. Paradoxically, upper-class society perceived his sin not in having fathered an illegitimate infant or having multiple affairs but in his not providing for the child. It was, after all, perfectly acceptable to be a rake but not to disregard one’s moral duty. The upper class, despite its insistent demands for propriety, was extraordinarily inconsistent in its responses to the excesses of behaviour by the
ton
.

A man’s first responsibility was to his name and to the enhancement of his family’s wealth, power and prestige. On leaving school or university he was usually taken by his father or other well-born male sponsor to a levee (an all-male affair) at St James’s Palace where he would be presented to the monarch or his representative after which he could take his place in society. If he were an eldest son and the heir to an estate he was expected to marry before he was too old to father a son to carry on the family name. It was this responsibility that compelled Sir Gareth Ludlow in
Sprig Muslin
to seek a suitable bride after his brother Arthur was killed at Salamanca. If a man was a younger son, once he had completed his education it was incumbent upon him to make his way in the world by living within any allowance provided for him or by entering one of the professions. A married man was expected to support his wife and children materially and be discreet in managing his extramarital affairs or in keeping a mistress.

As a father, a man’s interaction with his children could be extremely limited but he was expected at least to teach his sons the ways of the world, to educate them in manly pursuits such as hunting and shooting, and to impart a sense of duty to the family. For his daughters he was required to enable his wife to ‘fire them off’ into society and to provide a dowry in the event of their marriage. Some chose to involve themselves more fully in their children’s upbringing but society did not usually look askance at those men, like Adam Deveril’s father Bardy Lynton in
A Civil Contract
, who did little more than father his offspring, provide them with life’s necessities and introduce them into society when they came of age.

A formal education was considered essential for the upper-class man and he began learning his letters at an early age. At five or six he usually entered the home schoolroom where he was taught by a governess, or a tutor if he had no sisters. A proper education was one grounded in the Classics and most boys were sent away after the age of eight to one of the well-established public schools such as Eton, Harrow, St Paul’s or Winchester. There they were taught Latin, Greek, languages such as French or Italian, history and mathematics in a large schoolroom in the company of several hundred other boys. School life was often extremely harsh and many boys endured meagre servings of poor food, freezing conditions, physical, sexual and emotional abuse, rats in the dormitories, loneliness and anxiety. Parents such as Gerard Monksleigh’s mother in
Bath Tangle
frequently worried over the rigours and privations of boarding-school life. There were happy moments, however, and many pupils greatly enjoyed the freedoms that life away from home offered and engaged in all manner of pranks and activities both inside and outside the school grounds. Many boys forged friendships during their school years which continued at university and beyond. At the age of sixteen or seventeen boys went up to either Oxford or Cambridge or, like Hugo Darracott in
The Unknown Ajax
or Adam Deveril in
A Civil Contract
, went straight into the military.

University was considered important, not so much for its academic opportunities (serious study was an option rather than a requirement) but for the social life and the friends and contacts which could be made there. Viscount Pevensey and his devoted and foolish friend, Cornelius Fancot, met at Harrow and embarked on a riotous career of pranks, dares and wagers which, in
April Lady
, continued during their time at Oxford and became the highlight of their bachelor life in London. The nature of university life, with its emphasis on high-spirited behaviour and apparent acceptance of young men as being naturally inclined to engage in all manner of pranks, dares and other reckless deeds, meant that it was not uncommon for students to find themselves rusticated (sent down or suspended) for at least part of a term as a result of activities deemed unacceptable even by the university authorities, such as riding a horse up the college stairs or, as Nicky Carlyon does in
The Reluctant Widow
, borrowing a bear to chase a couple of university dons up a tree. Some students did engage in academic life, however, and serious-minded young men such as Aubrey Lanyon in
Venetia
, who was entered at Trinity College Cambridge, aspired to be scholars and win a fellowship. Young men usually spent two or three years at the university before entering society as fully fledged adults.

A Bachelor’s Life

During the Regency the life of the well-bred and financially independent bachelor was often one of unalloyed pleasure. After a pleasant spell at either Oxford or Cambridge the sons of the nobility would frequently remove to London and take rooms in one of the many gentlemen’s lodgings in the West End of town. Duke Street, St James’s Place, Clarges Street, Ryder Street or any of the streets in the area of St James’s were popular, as was a set of chambers in Albany. The chambers, or ‘sets’ as they are still called within Albany, were available only to single men and consisted of comfortable bachelor apartments with two spacious main rooms, an entrance hall and two or three smaller rooms which could house the kitchen, bathroom and either a study or second bedroom if one of the main rooms was used as a master bedroom. Each set also had space allocated to it in the basement and attics for servants’ quarters and storage. Lord Byron lived in Albany in 1814–15 as did
The Foundling
’s Gideon Ware who, as a captain in the Lifeguards, appreciated its close proximity to his headquarters. Albany’s central location just west of Piccadilly made it popular with many a Regency bachelor who wanted easy access to the clubs, pubs, hells, pleasure haunts and glittering social life available to the well-bred man of leisure.