Frederica, Duchess of York (1767-1820)

Frederica, Duchess of York from A Biographical
Memoir of Frederick, Duke of York and Albany
by John Watkins (1827)

Who was Frederica, Duchess of York?

Frederica, Duchess of York (7 May 1767 – 6 August 1820), was a Prussian princess who married Frederick, Duke of York, George IV’s brother. She was known for her love of animals and for the large number of dogs she kept at Oatlands, the Duke of York’s residence in Weybridge, Surrey.

Family background

Frederica Charlotte Ulrica Catherina, Princess Frederica of Prussia, was born on 7 May 1767, the eldest daughter of Frederick William II, King of Prussia, by his first wife, Elizabeth of Brunswick. According to La Belle Assemblée, Frederica was

… educated under the eye of her mother, in those strict principles of the Protestant faith which govern the Ecclesiastical Constitution of Prussia.1

Marriage to the Duke of York

On 29 September 1791, Princess Frederica married Frederick, Duke of York, the second son of George III, in Berlin. In order to fulfil the requirements of the Royal Marriage Act (1772), the ceremony had to be repeated in England so that the King’s consent could ‘be set out in the licence and register of marriage.’2

This second ceremony took place on 23 November 1791 at the Queen’s House, later Buckingham Palace. I confess, I do not know which is the official date of marriage, though I guess it is probably the second one, as in the eyes of English law, it was this ceremony that made the union legal.

According to La Belle Assemblée, Princess Frederica

… had been seen by the Duke of York in an excursion which he made abroad some four years previous to their union. His Royal Highness, in his German tour, had paid a visit to the Court of Berlin, and had there imbibed those elements of military knowledge which prevail in the school of the Great Frederick. He had, at that period, formed an attachment for the Princess Royal of Prussia, who then shone in the full splendour of her beauty, and whose numerous accomplishments, and many mild and amiable virtues, were the common theme of admiration.3

Despite this rosy account of the Duke’s affection, it was an arranged marriage, and not particularly successful. There were no children from the union and the royal couple lived separate lives, though from all that I have read, their relationship was amicable.

Prince Frederick, Duke of York and Albany
from La Belle Assemblée (1827)

 The diarist Charles Greville wrote:

The Duke and the Duchess live upon the best terms; their manner to one another is cordial, and while full of mutual respect and attention, they follow separately their own occupations and amusements without interfering with one another. Their friends are common to both, and those who are most attached to the Duke are equally so to the Duchess.4

What did the Duchess look like?

La Belle Assemblée (1806) described the Duchess of York:

Her Royal Highness’s stature is somewhat below the common height, and her figure elegantly formed in proportionate delicacy and slightness. Her countenance has so far the best beauty, that it is made to win tenderness, esteem and affection. Her complexion is exquisitely fair, and the bloom with which it is enlivened is rather a tint appearing through her skin, than that sort of colour which seems to exist in it. Her hair is light, and her eye-lashes are long and nearly white, resembling those of our Royal Family, to whom, indeed, she is not much unlike in features. Her eyes are blue, and of uncommon brilliancy.5

The Duchess of York by John Hoppner
from John Hoppner RA
by WD McKay and W Roberts (1909)

Amiable and intelligent

In Greville’s opinion, the Duchess was rather more intelligent than her royal husband and liked to entertain clever men. He wrote:

The Duchess likes the society of men of wit and letters; more, I think, from the variety of having them around her than from any pleasure she takes in their conversation. Lord Alvanley is the man in whom she takes the greatest delight.6

Greville also suggested that the Duchess was quite at home with conversation that might have been deemed by others as unfit for female ears:

Her mind is not perhaps the most delicate; she shows no dislike to coarseness of sentiment or language, and I have seen her very much amused with jokes, stories, and allusions which would shock a very nice person. But her own conversation is never polluted with anything the least indelicate or unbecoming. She is very sensible to little attentions, and is annoyed if anybody appears to keep aloof from her or to shun conversing with her.7

Charitable nature

The Duchess was known for her generosity towards the poor and, perhaps because childless herself, many of the charitable works she carried out were for the benefit of children. La Belle Assemblée wrote that she

… established many charity schools at Oatlands and in the neighbourhood, and her humanity and tenderness to the poor are the theme of all who approach her.8

The Duke of York’s biographer, John Watkins, enlarged upon this:

The children of the whole neighbourhood, at least all who stood in need of assistance, were considered by the Duchess as belonging to her household. They were accordingly clothed and educated under her own immediate inspection, and entirely at her expense. Every Saturday whole troops of these infants were to be seen crossing the park in their simple clean attire, to the mansion of their royal benefactress, from whose hand they frequently received cake and wine.

As they grew up, the patronage of her royal highness was still continued; the girls being either put out to service, or provided for with suitable employment, while the boys were apprenticed at the charge of the Duchess, who also gave marriage portions to the deserving, and extended her benevolence to their rising families.9

Besides this, she had a long list of infirm pensioners, of both sexes, in London, who received regular allowances.

Love of animals

The Duchess was passionately fond of animals, particularly dogs. She kept a huge number of them at Oatlands and created a cemetery in the park in which to bury them after they had died. She also kept monkeys and parrots.

Greville wrote:

Her dogs are her greatest interest and amusement, and she has at least forty of various kinds. She is delighted when anybody gives her a dog, or a monkey, or a parrot, of all of which she has a vast number; it is impossible to offend her or annoy her more than by ill-using any of her dogs, and if she were to see anybody beat or kick any one of them she would never forgive it.10

Watkins wrote:

To the canine species the Duchess was remarkably attached; and it was no uncommon thing to see her in the park surrounded by thirty or forty of these animals of various sorts, as English lapdogs, Dutch pugs, and French barbettes. Their respective litters were taken great care of, and the young ones not unfrequently boarded out, under the superintendence of the cottagers. Nor was this tenderness confined to them while living, for a cemetery was actually formed in the park to receive their remains.11

Writing in 1828, after Oatlands had passed out of royal hands, Prosser described where the cemetery was: 

Before the grotto, which is entwined with ivy and other creeping plants, was a gold and silver fish pond and a small cascade, now in a neglected and ruinous state. Near are numerous small stone tablets, bearing the names of nearly seventy of her late Royal Highness's favorite dogs that lie buried here.12

The Duchess’s other interests

Among the other amusements of the Duchess, gardening constituted one of the most favourite; and she also took great delight in collecting shells, with which she formed one of the finest grottoes ever seen in this kingdom, expending thereon, it is said, near twelve thousand pounds.13

Watkins’ estimate of the cost of the grotto, though expensive, was quite conservative. La Belle Assemblée stated that it had cost at least £50,000!

The Grotto, which has grown to its present elegance chiefly under her Royal Highness’s hands, is reckoned one of the principal curiosities of this kingdom, and perhaps in any part of the world.

Her Royal Highness has very condescendingly opened it for public inspection, every Sunday evening during the summer season. It is shown, free of all expense, to the visitants.14

Friends and family

The Duchess was very close to Princess Charlotte and friendly towards her mother Caroline, Princess of Wales. According to Greville, the Duchess

… always lived on good terms with the Royal Family, but is intimate with none of them, and goes as little as possible to Court. The Regent dislikes her, and she him. With the Princess Charlotte she was latterly very intimate, spent a great deal of time at Claremont, and felt her death very severely.15

Ian Kelly, in his biography of Beau Brummell, wrote that the Duchess and the Prince Regent were on friendly terms - rather better than Watkins suggested.

Kelly also wrote of the Duchess’s close friendship with Beau Brummell. She helped him financially after he fled to France to escape his debts in 1816 and it was for her sake that he agreed not to publish his memoirs whilst the Regent or any of his brothers were alive.

George Brummell from The History of White's
 by Hon Algernon Bourke (1892)

A private person

The Duchess of York did not like being in the public eye and preferred to live at Oatlands when she could. Greville wrote:

The Duchess has no taste for splendour or magnificence, and likes to live the life of a private individual as much as possible.16

In Watkins’ opinion:

The life of the Duchess was marked by scarcely any circumstances calculated to bring her prominently under public observation. She mixed very little in the gaieties of fashionable life.17

Oatlands
from Select illustrations of the County of Surrey by GF Prosser (1828)

The worst hostess?

Whilst the Duchess loved entertaining, and regularly gave parties at Oatlands, she was not a very attentive hostess. Greville recorded his observations on the Duchess’s eccentricity and the haphazard style of living that existed there:

Oatlands is the worst managed establishment in England; there are a great many servants, and nobody waits on you; a vast number of horses, and none to ride or drive.18

On another occasion he wrote:

The Duchess seldom goes to bed, or, if she does, only for an hour or two; she sleeps dressed upon a couch, sometimes in one room, sometimes in another. She frequently walks out very late at night, or rather early in the morning, and she always sleeps with open windows. She dresses and breakfasts at three o’clock, afterwards walks out with all her dogs, and seldom appears before dinner-time. At night, when she cannot sleep, she has women to read to her. 19

A brush with death

On 6 June 1794, there was a dreadful fire at Oatlands. Fortunately, the Duchess was not harmed.

Watkins wrote:

The Duchess beheld the dreadful conflagration from her sleeping room, which was in the centre of the mansion, and from which the flames were kept by pulling down a gateway, over which the wing joined the house. His Majesty, on hearing of the misfortune, went to Oatlands early the next morning, and gave the necessary orders for clearing the ruins, and rebuilding the wing which had been destroyed, at his own expense.20

Illness and death

Princess Frederica died of consumption on Sunday 6 August 1820. Greville described the cause as water on her chest. She was buried, at her own request, in Weybridge Church, on 14 August.

Watkins wrote that:

The Duke, when consulted upon the subject of the funeral, at once determined that the wish of his lamented consort should be complied with; and directions were accordingly given that the obsequies should be performed as she had requested, and that with as little ostentation as possible.21

Greville wrote:

She is deeply regretted by her husband, her friends, and her servants. Probably no person in such a situation was ever more really liked. She has left 12,000ℓ. to her servants and some children whom she had caused to be educated. She had arranged all her affairs with the greatest exactitude, and left nothing undone.22

Rachel Knowles writes clean/Christian historical romance set in the time of Jane Austen. She has been sharing her research on this blog since 2011. Rachel lives in the beautiful Georgian seaside town of Weymouth, Dorset, on the south coast of England, with her husband, Andrew.

Find out more about Rachel's books and sign up for her newsletter here.

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Notes

1. Bell, John, La Belle Assemblée (1806).

2. Ibid.

3. Ibid.

4. Entry for 15 August 1818, Greville, Charles, A journal of the reigns of King George IV and King William IV, edited by Henry Reeve (Longmans, 1874) Volume 1.

5. Bell op cit.

6. Entry for 24 December 1819, Greville op cit.

7. Entry for 15 August 1818, Greville op cit.

8. Bell op cit.

9. Watkins, John, A Biographical Memoir of Frederick, Duke of York and Albany (1827)

10. Entry for 15 August 1818, Greville op cit.

11. Watkins op cit.

12. Prosser, George Frederick, Select Illustrations of the County of Surrey (1828).

13. Watkins op cit.

14. Bell op cit.

15. Entry for 15 August 1818, Greville op cit.

16. Ibid.

17. Watkins op cit.

18. Entry for 4 August 1818, Greville op cit.

19. Entry for 15 August 1818, Greville op cit.

20. Watkins op cit.

21. Watkins op cit.

22. Entry August 1820, Greville op cit.

Sources used include:

Bell, John, La Belle Assemblée (John Bell, 1806, London)

Greville, Charles, A journal of the reigns of King George IV and King William IV, edited by Henry Reeve (Longmans, 1874) Volume 1

Kelly, Ian, Beau Brummell, The Ultimate Dandy (Hodder & Stoughton, 2005)

Prosser, George Frederick, Select Illustrations of the County of Surrey (1828)

Stephens, HM, revised by Van der Kiste, John, Frederick, Prince, Duke of York and Albany (1763-1827), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford University Press 2004, updated 2007)

Watkins, John, A Biographical Memoir of Frederick, Duke of York and Albany (1827, London)

Georgians celebrated in London statues

Trafalgar Square, London

Although I live down by the sea in sunny Weymouth in Dorset, I am fortunate to have the opportunity to visit London on a regular basis as my parents live a short train journey away from the capital. Walking through the streets of London, I always try to spot things with a Georgian connection and my husband, Andrew, obligingly takes lots of photos for me.

This post takes a look at some of the statues in London that commemorate Georgian royalty and other prominent figures. It is by no means an exhaustive list and no doubt I will discover more in the future.

George III and George IV

Let us start with royalty. There are impressive equestrian statues in London of both George III (1738-1820) and George IV (1762-1830) situated within a short distance of each other. George III, by the sculptor Matthew Cotes Wyatt, is on Cockspur Street—a two minute walk away from Sir Francis Legatt Chantrey’s statue in Trafalgar Square, where George IV sits astride his horse in front of the National Gallery.

Equestrian statue of George III,
Cockspur Street, London

Equestrian statue of George III,
Cockspur Street, London

Equestrian statue of George IV,
Trafalgar Square, London

Detail from equestrian statue of George IV,
Trafalgar Square, London

Two commemorative columns

At the top of his column in Trafalgar Square is the famous naval hero of the Battle of Trafalgar, Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson (1758-1805). But perhaps lesser known is the Duke of York column, just off The Mall, supporting a statue of Frederick, Duke of York (1763-1827), George III’s second son, who was Commander in Chief of the British Army 1795-1809 and 1811-1827.

Nelson's Column, Trafalgar Square, London

Statue of Admiral Horatio Lord
 Nelson on Nelson's Column,
 Trafalgar Square, London

Duke of York Column,
The Mall, London

Statue of Frederick, Duke of York,
on Duke of York Column, The Mall, London

Artists and architects

Appropriately, there is a statue of Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792), the first President of the Royal Academy, in the courtyard of Burlington House on Piccadilly, home to the Royal Academy since 1874.

Statue of Sir Joshua Reynolds,
Burlington House, Piccadilly, London

On the outside of the Royal Society of Painters in Watercolours on Piccadilly, you can see the busts of famous artists including JMW Turner (1775-1851) and Paul Sandby (1731-1809), one of the founder members of the Royal Academy.

Bust of JMW Turner, Piccadilly, London

Bust of Paul Sandby, Piccadilly, London

In 1956, a bust of the architect John Nash (1752-1835) was erected outside All Souls Langham Place—a church that he had designed.

Bust of John Nash, outside
All Souls Langham Place, London

Fashionable Regency figures remembered

The statue of Beau Brummell (1778-1840) on Jermyn Street is relatively new—it was only erected in 2002. It seems a fitting site for Beau—looking down the Piccadilly Arcade with its superior shops selling everything for the gentleman of fashion, from made-to-measure suits and footwear to jewellery and grooming products.

Statue of Beau Brummell,
Jermyn Street, London

Statue of Beau Brummell, Jermyn Street, London

Statue of Beau Brummell,
Jermyn Street, London

Statue of Beau Brummell, Jermyn Street, London

Statue of Beau Brummell,
Jermyn Street, London

The famous Romantic poet, Lord Byron (1788-1824), is commemorated by a somewhat isolated statue in a very unromantic position on a traffic island on the hugely busy Park Lane.

Statue of Lord Byron, Park Lane, London

An economist and an explorer

Adam Smith (1723-1790) was a Scottish economist and philosopher. He wrote The Wealth of Nations in 1776—it was still on the reading list when I studied economics at university! You can find his statue on the rear of Burlington House.

Statue of Adam Smith,
Burlington House, Piccadilly, London

Captain James Cook (1728-1779) was a naval captain, explorer and cartographer. His statue was erected on The Mall in 1914.

Statue of Captain James Cook,
The Mall, London

Politicians

An equestrian statue of Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (1769-1852), military hero of the Battle of Waterloo and British Prime Minister stands on Threadneedle Street, outside the Bank of England.

Equestrian statue of 1st Duke of Wellington,
Threadneedle Street, London

Equestrian statue of 1st Duke of Wellington,
Threadneedle Street, London

Another Georgian Prime Minister, George Canning (1770-1827), stands in Parliament Square along with several of his successors, including Sir Robert Peel (1788-1850).

George Canning, Parliament Square, London

Sir Robert Peel,
Parliament Square, London

A statue of the Whig politician Charles James Fox (1749-1806) stands in Bloomsbury Square Gardens. He holds a copy of the Magna Carta in his hand, signifying his role as the 'Man of the People'.

Statue of Charles James Fox,
Bloomsbury Square, London

A philanthropist and an evangelical

Thomas Coram (1668-1751) set up the Foundling Hospital in 1741. His statue is outside the Foundling Museum on Brunswick Square, London.

Statue of Thomas Coram,
Brunswick Square, London

John Wesley (1703-1791) was an evangelical Anglican minister who, together with his brother Charles and George Whitefield, founded the Methodist movement. His statue stands in the gardens of St Paul’s Cathedral.

Statue of John Wesley,
outside St Paul's Cathedral, London

Rachel Knowles writes clean/Christian Regency era romance and historical non-fiction. She has been sharing her research on this blog since 2011. Rachel lives in the beautiful Georgian seaside town of Weymouth, Dorset, on the south coast of England, with her husband, Andrew.

Find out more about Rachel's books and sign up for her newsletter here.

If you have enjoyed this blog and want to encourage me and help me to keep making my research freely available, please buy me a virtual cup of coffee by clicking the button below.

 

All photographs © RegencyHistory.net

A ball at Almack's in 1815

A ball at Almack's in 1815 (annotated)
from Celebrities of London and Paris by Captain Gronow (1865)

My post on Almack’s Assembly Rooms was originally illustrated by the above picture, supposedly depicting a ball at Almack’s in 1815. It comes from Gronow’s reminiscences and is accompanied by a detailed description:

The personages delineated in the frontispiece are well worthy of notice, both from the position they held in the fashionable world, and from their being represented with great truth and accuracy. On the left, the man with the red face, laughing at Brummell, is Charles, Marquis of Queensberry; the great George himself, the admirable Crichton of the age, comes next, in a dégagé attitude, with his fingers in his waistcoat pocket. His neck-cloth is inimitable, and must have cost him much time and trouble to arrive at such perfection. He is talking earnestly to the charming Duchess of Rutland, who was a Howard, and mother to the present Duke.

The tall man, in a black coat, who is preparing to waltz with Princess Esterhazy, so long ambassadress of Austria in London, is the Comte de St Antonio, afterwards Duke of Canizzaro. He resided many years in England, was a very handsome man, and a great lady-killer, and married an English heiress, Miss Johnson. The stout gentleman waltzing with the Russian ambassadress, Countess, afterwards Princess Lieven, is Baron Neumann, at that time secretary to the Austrian embassy. He was afterwards minister at Florence, and married a daughter of the Duke of Beaufort’s.

We next behold, in a wonderful light green coat, black tights, and a crushed hat, the late Sir George Warrender, the famous epicure, whose name was pronounced by Sir Joseph Copley to be really Sir Gorge Provender. The worthy Baronet is talking to the handsome Comte de St Aldegonde, afterwards a general, and at this period aide-de-camp to Louis Philippe, then Duke of Orleans.

The original sketch was given to Brummell by the artist who executed it; and it was highly prized by the king of the dandies. It was purchased at the sale of his effects in Chapel Street by the person who gave it to me.

Top left: Ball dress (Jun 1815)
Top right: Evening dress (Feb 1815)
from Ackermann's Repository
Bottom left: Evening dress (Apr 1829)
Bottom right: Ball dress (Apr 1829)
from La Belle Assemblée

But did this ball really take place in 1815?

The problem with this picture is that it is dated 1815 and yet the ball dresses clearly belong to a later period. Having examined fashion prints from Ackermann’s Repository and La Belle Assemblée, I think that the gowns depicted belong to the late 1820s. (Compare the dresses from 1829 with those in the picture.)

And it is not only the ladies’ fashions that are wrong. The correct attire for gentlemen at Almack’s at this time was knee breeches, white cravat and chapeau bras. In the picture, the gentlemen are wearing pantaloons or trousers and the hats held by Sir George Warrender and the Comte de St Aldegonde look more like the collapsible top hats that became popular in the 1820s than the correctly formal chapeau bras.

So was the ball held in, say, 1829 rather than 1815? Well no, it cannot have been. The artist unmistakably identifies Beau Brummell in black on the left-hand side of the picture. Brummell left England for France in May 1816 to escape his debts and so if Brummell was at the ball, it must have been before May 1816 at the very latest.

A possible explanation

My theory is that part or possibly the entire sketch was done from memory and that the artist got some of the details wrong. In the days before cameras, there was no quick way to record a scene and I think we underestimate how often artists must have worked from memory. In this picture, various individuals were carefully drawn and identified; one can only assume that the fashions were of lesser importance to the artist.

Logically, it seems probable that the picture was drawn many years after the event, most likely at the time when the fashions represented were prevalent. The only problem with this notion is that Gronow claimed that he was given the sketch by someone who had bought it at the sale of Brummell’s possessions at his old home in Chapel Street which took place on 22 May 1816.

However, I can more readily believe that the sketch got into Gronow’s hands by a different route than that the artist was able to predict fashions some 14 years into the future!

The first quadrille at Almack's c1815
from The Reminiscences and Recollections of Captain Gronow (1889)
showing the correct dress for Almack's in 1815

Rachel Knowles writes faith-based Regency romance and historical non-fiction. She has been sharing her research on this blog since 2011. Rachel lives in the beautiful Georgian seaside town of Weymouth, Dorset, on the south coast of England, with her husband, Andrew.

Find out more about Rachel's books and sign up for her newsletter here.

If you have enjoyed this blog and want to encourage us and help us to keep making our research freely available, please buy us a virtual cup of coffee by clicking the button below.

Sources used include:

Ackermann, Rudolph, The Repository of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions and Politics (various)

Bell, John, La Belle Assemblée (John Bell, 1806-1837, London) Chancellor, E. Beresford, Memorials of St. James’s Street and Chronicles of Almack’s (1922)

Gronow, Captain RH, Celebrities of London and Paris, being a third series of reminiscences and anecdotes (1865)

Gronow, Captain, The Reminiscences and Recollections of Captain Gronow
(1850, 1862, 1889, 1892)

30 Beau Brummell quotes and anecdotes

George Brummell from The History of White's
 by Hon Algernon Bourke (1892)

Beau Brummell was famous not only for his elegance in dress, but also for his wit. He loved to play practical jokes and took great pleasure in confounding his audience by saying something unexpected and making them laugh at his absurdities. Often he used his wit to depress pretension. Many quotes and anecdotes about the Beau exist. I expect that most of them are true though some may simply be stories that grew up or were invented by the Beau to entertain.

1: ‘Who’s your fat friend?’

‘Who’s your fat friend?’ is one of the most often quoted remarks made by Beau Brummell – a comment made of his erstwhile patron, the Prince Regent before Brummell had fallen out of favour. Brummell’s biographer, William Jesse, described the scenario:

The Prince, leaning on Lord Moira’s arm, met Brummell and Lord Alvanley, coming in the opposite direction, and, probably with the intention of making the cut more evident, His Royal Highness stopped and spoke to his Lordship, without noticing the Beau – little thinking that he would resent it; great therefore must have been his surprise and annoyance, as each party turned to continue their promenade, to hear him say in a distinct tone, expressive of complete ignorance of his person, ‘Alvanley, who’s your fat friend?’1

William Arden, 2nd Baron Alvanley
from The History of White's
 by Hon Algernon Bourke (1892)

Another version of the story suggests that the famous interchange happened at a ball held by Brummell and three friends where the Regent openly ignored his host, leading to the rude rejoinder.

2: Brummell sells out

When applying to the Regent for permission to sell out of the army, Brummell replied:

‘Why the fact is, your Royal Highness, I have heard that we are ordered to Manchester. Now you must be aware, how disagreeable this would be to me; I really could not go – think, your Royal Highness, Manchester! Besides,’ and here was an instance of his tact, ‘you would not be there. I have therefore, with your Royal Highness’s permission, determined to sell out.’2

3: ‘I can unmake him’

Brummell is reported to have said of the Prince Regent to Colonel McMahon, the Prince’s private secretary: ‘I made him what he is, and I can unmake him.’3

4: Lack of respect for Mrs Fitzherbert

Jesse wrote:

When desired by the Regent at a ball at Lady Jersey’s to call her [Mrs Fitzherbert’s] carriage, he [Brummell] obeyed, but in doing so, substituted the word mistress for the usual one of Mrs and laid a strong emphasis on the insulting epithet.4

Mrs Fitzherbert from The Creevey
 Papers by Thomas Creevey (1904)

5: Big Ben and Benina

Jesse wrote:

There was at that time a burly porter at Carlton House, nicknamed ‘Big Ben’, who was so tall that he could look over the gates, and as the Regent was then increasing in size, Brummell often designated the master, by the appellation of the servant – and Mrs Fitzherbert, by that of ‘Benina’.5

6: A note on the Prince’s lack of propriety

After Brummell’s flight to France, his possessions were sold in order to pay his debts. Jesse wrote:

Amongst them was a very handsome snuff-box, which, on being opened by the auctioneer before it was put up, was found to contain a piece of paper with the following sentence, in Brummell’s handwriting, upon it: ‘This snuff-box was intended for the Prince Regent, if he had conducted himself with more propriety towards me.’6

George, Prince of Wales, later George IV
from Memoirs of Her Late Majesty
Queen Charlotte by WC Oulton (1819)

7: On preserving a favourite snuffbox

Whilst George IV was staying in Calais, where Brummell was residing having left England to escape his debts, word was sent to Brummell that the King required some snuff. Jesse wrote:

The Consul came to Brummell late one evening, and intimated that the King was out of snuff, saying, as he took up one of the boxes that were lying on the Beau’s table, ‘Give me one of yours.’‘With all my heart,’ replied Brummell, ‘but not that box, for if the King saw it I should never have it again.’7

8: A snuffbox is not an oyster

When Brummell found that someone had been trying to open a favourite snuffbox of his with a knife, he exclaimed: ‘Confound the fellow, he takes my snuff-box for an oyster.’8

9: Brummell on fashion

In her memoirs, Harriette Wilson wrote:

‘No perfumes,’ Brummell used to say, ‘but very fine linen, plenty of it, and country washing.’9

10: A tailor’s opinion of Brummell

A baronet went to Schweitzer for a coat and asked his tailor what cloth he recommended. ‘Why, Sir,’ said the artiste, ‘the Prince wears superfine, and Mr Brummell the Bath coating; but it is immaterial which you choose, Sir John, you must be right; suppose, Sir, we say Bath coating - I think Mr Brummell has a trifle the preference.’10

11: Shoes or slippers?

Brummell asked Lord ___ what he called those things on his feet. ‘Why shoes,’ he replied. ‘Shoes, are they?’ said Brummell doubtfully, and stooping to look at them, ‘I thought they were slippers.’11

12: The Duke of Bedford’s coat

On another occasion, the Duke of Bedford asked Brummell for an opinion on his new coat.

Brummell examined him from head to foot with as much attention as an adjutant of the Life Guards would the sentries on a drawing-room day. ‘Turn round,’ said the Beau: his Grace did so, and the examination was continued in front. When it was concluded Brummell stepped forward, and feeling the lapel delicately with his thumb and finger, said, in a most earnest and amusing manner, ‘Bedford, do you call this thing a coat?’12

Duke of Bedford from The Life of
George Brummell by W Jesse (1886)

13: Brummell on his brother

When Brummell’s brother William was in town, he was asked if he was not going to see him, Brummell replied:

Yes, in a day or two; but I have recommended him to walk the back streets till his new clothes come home.13

14: On the cost of being fashionable

When asked by a widow lady of fashion how much it would cost for her son to be fashionably dressed, Brummell is credited with replying, in all seriousness:

My dear Madam, with strict economy, it might be done for eight hundred a year.14

15: Brummell on mornings

Brummell used to say that ‘whether it was summer or winter, he always liked to have the morning well-aired before he got up.’15

16: Brummell on Brighton

‘Come to Brighton, my dear fellow,’ Brummell once said to Cecil Jenkinson, later Lord Liverpool. ‘Let us be off tomorrow; we’ll eat currant-tart, and live in chintz and salt-water.’16

Brighton Pavilion

17: The Beau depresses pretension

On one occasion, a woman called down to Brummell from her balcony, inviting him up to take tea. ‘Madam, you take medicine, you take a walk, you take a liberty, but you drink tea.’17

18: Brummell on the Lake District 

Jesse wrote:

An acquaintance having, in a morning call, bored him dreadfully about some tour he had made in the North of England, enquired with great pertinacity of his impatient listener which of the lakes he preferred when Brummell, quite tired of the man’s tedious raptures, turned his head imploringly towards his valet, who was arranging something in the room, and said, ‘Robinson.’
‘Sir.’
‘Which of the lakes do I admire?’
‘Windermere, sir,’ replied that distinguished individual.
‘Ah, yes, - Windermere,’ repeated Brummell, ‘so it is – Windermere.’18

19: Brummell on vegetables

A lady at dinner, observing that he did not take any vegetables, asked him whether such was his general habit, and if he never ate any. He replied, ‘Yes, madam, I once ate a pea.’19

20: Brummell’s dislike of cabbage

Brummell was taxed with why a matrimonial prospect had failed. ‘Why what could I do, my good fellow, but cut the connexion? I discovered that Lady Mary actually ate cabbage!’20

21: Brummell’s opinion of himself

In her memoirs, Lady Hester Stanhope recalled Brummell once saying to her, in Bond Street:

My dear Lady Hester, it is my folly that is the making of me. If I did not impertinently stare duchesses out of countenance, and nod over my shoulder to a prince, I should be forgotten in a week: and, if the world is so silly as to admire my absurdities, you and I may know better, but what does that signify?21

22: An absurdity

One day a friend, meeting him limping in Bond Street, asked him what was the matter. He replied, he had hurt his leg, and the worst of it was, ‘it was his favourite leg’.22

23: Another absurdity

Once Brummell had a bad cold, and a friend asked him how he had got it. Brummell replied:

Why, do you know, I left my carriage yesterday evening, on my way to town from the Pavilion, and the infidel of a landlord put me into a room with a damp stranger.23

24: Dealing with unfashionable persons

At an Ascot meeting, early in the day, Brummell walked his horse up a certain lady’s carriage. She expressed her surprise at his throwing away his time on her, or running the risk of being seen talking to such a very quiet and unfashionable person. ‘My dear Lady ___,’ he replied, ‘pray don’t mention it; there is no one near us.’24

25: Brummell’s self-importance

Brummell was once offered a lift to Lady Jersey’s ball in the carriage of a young gentleman.

‘Thank you exceedingly,’ replied the Beau, ‘very kind of you, indeed! But pray how are you to go? You surely would not like to get up behind; no that would not be right, and yet it will scarcely do for me to be seen in the same carriage with you.’25

26: Brummell on the horrors of prison

Imagine a position more wretched than mine - they have put me with all the common people. I am surrounded by the greatest villains, and have nothing but prison fare.26

27: Lord Byron on Brummell

Jesse wrote:

Mr Leigh Hunt in a note, in which he kindly referred me to some anecdotes of Brummell, says, ‘I remember that Lord Byron once described him to me, as having nothing remarkable in his style of dress, except a “certain exquisite propriety”.’27

Lord Byron from 
from The Life of Lord Byron
by Thomas Moore (1844)

28: A fashionable arm

When Brummell was accused by an angry father of leading his son into a disreputable gambling transaction, Brummell replied:

Really, I did all I could for the young man. I once gave him my arm all the way from White’s to Watier’s.28

29: Thompson and Johnson

There were once two ladies in London who both liked to hold great parties, one called Mrs Thompson and the other, Mrs Johnson. Jesse wrote:

Sometime after the Beau’s quarrel with the Prince, the former lady [Mrs Thompson] gave a splendid ball, at which His Royal Highness had signified his intention of being present; it is therefore scarcely necessary to add, that Brummell was not included in the list of invitations. On the evening of the entertainment, however, while Mrs Thompson was waiting in her ante-room, supported by a bevy of intimate friends, in momentary expectation of the arrival of her royal guest, and exulting in the completeness of all her preparations – the Beau, to her ineffable surprise and disgust, made his appearance, and his best bow. Justly indignant at this outrage, she informed him, with as much coolness as she could command, that he was not invited.
‘Not invited, Madam! Not invited!’ said Brummell, in his blandest tones, ‘surely there must be some mistake,’ and leisurely feeling in all his pockets to prolong the chances of the Prince’s arrival, and therefore her misery, he at last drew forth an invitation card, and presented it to the incensed lady.
She took it, and saw at a glance it was not her own card, but that of her rival in the East, and haughtily throwing it from her, in a climax of vexation and anxiety to get rid of him, said,‘That card, sir, is a Mrs Johnson’s; my name is Thompson.’
‘Is it indeed?’ replied Brummell, perfectly cool, and affecting the most innocent surprise, ‘Dear me, how very unfortunate! Really, Mrs Johns – Thompson, I mean, I am very sorry for this mistake; but you know, Johnson and Thompson – and Thompson and Johnson, are really so much the same kind of thing.’29

30: Bad champagne

Once when Brummell was dining at a gentleman’s house in Hampshire, the champagne was far from good. Brummell waited for a pause in the conversation and then raised his glass and said, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, ‘John, give me some more of that cider.’30

Updated 19 August 2019

Rachel Knowles writes clean/Christian historical romance set in the time of Jane Austen. She has been sharing her research on this blog since 2011. Rachel lives in the beautiful Georgian seaside town of Weymouth, Dorset, on the south coast of England, with her husband, Andrew.

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Notes
1. Jesse, William, The Life of George Brummell (1844) Volume I p258
2. Ibid p45
3. Ibid p2573
4. Ibid p256
5. Ibid
6. Ibid p327
7. Jesse, William, The Life of George Brummell (1844) Volume II p10
8. Jesse op cit Volume I p330
9. Memoirs of Harriette Wilson (first published 1825, my reference copy 1919) Volume I p47
10. Jesse op cit Volume I p65
11. Ibid p64
12. Ibid
13. Ibid
14. Jesse op cit Volume II p367
15. Macfarlane, Charles, Reminiscences of a literary life (1927) chapter 27
16. Jesse op cit Volume II p393
17. Ibid p50
18. Jesse op cit Volume I p111
19. Ibid
20. Ibid p119
21. Stanhope, Lady Hester, Memoirs of the Lady Hester Stanhope (1845) Volume I p281
22. Jesse op cit Volume I p111-2
23. Ibid p112
24. Ibid
25. Ibid p104
26. Jesse op cit Volume II p186-7
27. Jesse op cit Volume I p70
28. Ibid p96
29. Ibid p101
30. Ibid p105

Sources used include:

Bourke, Hon. Algernon, The History of White's (1892)

Jesse, William, The Life of George Brummell, esq., Commonly called Beau Brummell (First published 1844. This edition 1886)

Kelly, Ian, Beau Brummell, The Ultimate Dandy (Hodder & Stoughton, 2005)

Macfarlane, Charles, Reminiscences of a literary life (J. Murray, 1917)

Stanhope, Lady Hester, Memoirs of the Lady Hester Stanhope, as related by herself in conversations with her physician (1845) I/III
Wilson, Harriette, The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, written by herself (First published 1825. This edition 1909)

All photographs © regencyhistory.net