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.

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.

 

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

What did Regency visitors think of the Brighton Pavilion?

A fairytale palace

Brighton Pavilion from the gardens

Brighton Pavilion is a fairytale palace – a bizarre mixture of domes and minarets, fitted out internally in luxurious but eccentric style. You cannot help but marvel at the unconventional architecture and the sumptuous decoration, but it is not to everyone’s taste. I was fortunate enough to be able to visit the Pavilion last week and see the exhibition on Princess Charlotte. The audio commentary reminded me that, when it was built, the Pavilion was far from universally admired.

 A litter of cupolas

Brighton Pavilion from the Steyne

“The Pavilion in Chinese style – beautiful and tasty,” wrote William Wilberforce, “though it looks very much as if St Paul’s had come down to the sea and left behind a litter of cupolas”.

Sydney Smith agreed: “It looks as if St Paul’s Cathedral has come down to Brighton and pupped.” These quotes are so similar that it seems likely that one was derived from the other.

Turnips and bulbs

William Cobbett claimed that the Pavilion, which he nicknamed the Kremlin, had “long been a subject of laughter all over the country”. He described the Pavilion in very unflattering terms, no doubt strongly influenced by his disgust at the Prince Regent’s extravagance in rebuilding it:

Brighton Pavilion- the entrance

“Take a square box, the sides of which are three feet and a half, and the height a foot and a half. Take a large Norfolk turnip, cut off the green of the leaves, leave the stalks nine inches long, tie these round with a string three inches from the top, and put the turnip on the middle of the box. Then take four turnips of half the size, threat them in the same way, and put them on the corners of the box. Then take a considerable number of bulbs of the crown imperial, the narcissus, the hyacinth, the tulip, the crocus, and others; let the leaves of each have sprouted to about an inch, more or less according to the size of the bulb; put all these, pretty promiscuously, but pretty thickly, on the top of the box. Then stand off and look at your architecture. There! That’s ‘a Kremlin’!”

Pumpkins and pepper boxes

William Hazlitt was similarly unimpressed:
“The Pavilion at Brighton is like a collection of stone pumpkins and pepper boxes. It seems as if the genius of architecture had at once the dropsy and the megrims. Anything more fantastical, with a greater dearth of invention, was never seen.”

The skyline at Brighton Pavilion

The Folly at Brighton

Another less than flattering reference to the Pavilion and its owner was in The Joss and His Folly, a poem illustrated by George Cruikshank. The verses were written by William Hone and appeared in an 1820 pamphlet, The Queen’s Matrimonial Ladder, which accompanied a “national toy”. The first four verses refer to “The Folly at Brighton”:

The Joss and His Folly by George Cruikshank

From The Queen's Matrimonial Ladder
by William Hone (1820)

The queerest of all the queer sights
I’ve set sights on;
Is the what d’ye call’t thing, here,
The Folly at Brighton

The outside – huge teapots,
All drill’d round with holes,
Relieved by extinguishers,
Sticking on poles;

The inside – all tea-things,
And dragons, and bells,
The show-rooms – all show,
The sleeping rooms – cells.

But the grand Curiosity’s
Not to be seen –
The owner himself –
An old fat Mandarin.

A Regency icon

I like Brighton Pavilion. To me, it sums up George IV so beautifully. It is a vivid statement of his lifestyle – extravagant, inconsistent and hedonistic. He was continually redecorating and rebuilding, filling his palace with beautiful things and entertaining lavishly. And yet when it was finished, he decided its situation was too public, and soon after, he abandoned it for the privacy of Windsor. Yes, it is over the top and I am not a big fan of all the dragons and snakes, but I am so glad that the palace has been preserved as a lasting symbol of the Regency.

Sources used include:
Cobbett, William, Rural rides in the counties of Surrey, Kent etc during the years 1821 to 1832, ed Pitt Cobbett (1893)
Low, Donald A, That Sunny Dome - a portrait of Regency Britain (Book Club Associates, 1977)
Feltham, John, A Guide to all the Watering and Sea-bathing Places (1815)
Hazlitt, William, Notes of a journey through France and Italy (1826)
Hone, William, The Queen's Matrimonial Ladder (1820)
Morley, John, The Royal Pavilion, Brighton
Nash, John, Views of the Royal Pavilion with commentary by Gervase Jackson-Stops (1991)
Wilberforce, Robert Isaac and Samuel, The Life of William Wilberforce (John Murray, 1839)

Photographs by Andrew Knowles - www.flickr.com/photos/dragontomato

Jane Austen and the seaside

Sands near Chit Rock, Sidmouth
  from A new guide descriptive of the beauties of Sidmouth
  by Rev Edmund Butcher (1830)

Sanditon

I wrote this post in 2012 after rereading Sanditon, Jane Austen’s last novel, completed by ‘another lady’. The description of Sanditon was of particularly interest to me as I have been researching sea bathing in the Georgian era and this gave me a contemporary, albeit fictional, description of the seaside.

The words that Jane Austen put into Mr Parker’s mouth represented the fashionable view of the seaside at the time and she must have been consciously echoing the words of such sea bathing enthusiasts as Dr Crane of Weymouth who wrote Cursory Observations on Sea-bathing.

Mr Parker

held it indeed as certain that no person could be really well, no person (however upheld for the present by fortuitous aids of exercise and spirits in a semblance of health) could be really in a state of secure and permanent health without spending at least six weeks by the sea every year. The sea air and sea bathing together were nearly infallible, one or the other of them being a match for every disorder of the stomach, the lungs or the blood. They were anti-spasmodic, anti-pulmonary, anti-septic, anti-bilious and anti-rheumatic. Nobody could catch cold by the sea; nobody wanted appetite by the sea; nobody wanted spirits; nobody wanted strength. Sea air was healing, softening, relaxing – fortifying and bracing – seemingly just as was wanted – sometimes one, sometimes the other.1

Was Jane Austen really convinced of the infallibility of the seaside as a cure for all ills? I think not! Rather she was laughing at the current fashion by creating the indefatigable Mr Parker who is both likeable and somewhat ridiculous in his extreme enthusiasm for Sanditon.

In Emma, Mr Woodhouse and Isabella argue about the benefits of the seaside:

“It was an awkward business, my dear, your spending the autumn at South End instead of coming here. I never had much opinion of the sea air.”
“Mr. Wingfield most strenuously recommended it, sir—or we should not have gone. He recommended it for all the children, but particularly for the weakness in little Bella’s throat,—both sea air and bathing.”
“Ah! my dear, but Perry had many doubts about the sea doing her any good; and as to myself, I have been long perfectly convinced, though perhaps I never told you so before, that the sea is very rarely of use to any body. I am sure it almost killed me once.”2

Jane Austen in Devon

Sidmouth from Chit Rock
  from A new guide descriptive of the beauties of Sidmouth
  by Rev Edmund Butcher (1830)

Jane Austen visited the seaside on several occasions and seemed to enjoy the experience. She visited Sidmouth in Devon in 1801, and it was here that it is believed that she met the true love of her life, a gentleman who returned her affection but tragically died soon afterwards. It is no wonder that Sidmouth had a special place in her heart and Sanditon is thought to be based on Sidmouth. She stayed in Devon again in 1802, visiting Dawlish and Teignmouth.

Jane Austen in Ramsgate

According to the Austen-Leighs’ Jane Austen, Her Life and Letters, Jane visited Ramsgate in 1803 where she was seen by Sir Egerton Brydges. Her brother Frank was headquartered there at the time and it is likely that she visited him there on one of her trips to Godmersham Park.

In a letter to Cassandra, Jane wrote that a friend was talking of fixing at Ramsgate. She wrote:

Bad Taste! – He is very fond of the Sea however; – some Taste in that – & some Judgement too in fixing on Ramsgate, as being by the Sea.3

Ramsgate in Jane Austen’s novels

Ramsgate does not appear in a good light in Jane Austen’s novels. A fleeting reference is made to Ramsgate in Mansfield Park where Tom Bertram spent a week with his friend Sneyd, but it is in Pride and Prejudice that Ramsgate is painted as a place where bad things happen. It is at Ramsgate that Mr Wickham persuades Georgiana Darcy into an elopement. Mr Darcy wrote:

“Last summer she [Georgiana Darcy] went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement.”4

Jane Austen in Lyme Regis

In 1804, Jane visited Lyme Regis with her parents whilst her sister, Cassandra, was on a visit to Weymouth with her brother Henry. Jane enjoyed sea bathing but could never resist a jibe at fashion. In a letter to Cassandra written on September 14 1804 Jane wrote:

I continue quite well in proof of which I have bathed again this morning. It was absolutely necessary that I should have the little fever and indisposition which I had; it has been all the fashion this week in Lyme.5

Lyme Regis in Jane Austen’s novels

Rachel walking up the steps on the Cobb, Lyme Regis (2016)

Jane was very taken with the natural beauty of Lyme Regis and this comes out in her description of it in Persuasion.

… the remarkable situation of the town, the principal street almost hurrying into the water, the walk to the Cobb, skirting round the pleasant little bay, which, in the season, is animated with bathing machines and company; the Cobb itself, its old wonders and new improvements, with the very beautiful line of cliffs, stretching out to the east of the town, are what the stranger’s eye will seek; and a very strange stranger it must be who does not see charms in the immediate environs of Lyme, to make him wish to know it better.6

They praised the morning; gloried in the sea; sympathised in the delight of the fresh-feeling breeze – and were silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again, with – “Oh, yes! I am quite convinced that, with very few exceptions, the sea-air always does good.”7

Cassandra in Weymouth

On the other hand, Jane Austen’s feelings about Weymouth, which she appears to have known only by report, were less positive. In a letter to Cassandra who was staying there, she pigeonholed it as a resort for the fashionable elite:

Your account of Weymouth contains nothing which strikes me so forcibly as there being no ice in the town; for every other vexation I was in some measure prepared, & particularly for your disappointment in not seeing the Royal family go on board on Tuesday, having already heard from Mr Crawford that he had seen you in the very act of being too late. But for there being no ice, what could prepare me? Weymouth is altogether a shocking place I perceive, without recommendation of any kind & worthy only of being frequented by the inhabitants of Gloucester [referring to a newspaper report of HRH the Duke of Gloucester’s arrival in Weymouth to visit the Royal Family]. I am really very glad that we did not go there.8

Weymouth and Melcombe Regis seafront
from Weymouth as a Watering Place
published by Simpkin & Marshall (1857)

Weymouth in Jane Austen’s novels

Maybe the repeated visits of George III had made Weymouth too busy for Jane's liking. Weymouth is portrayed in her novels as a seaside resort for profligate young men and silly women and the ideal place for contracting a foolish, secret engagement.

 

You can read about George III's visits to Weymouth here.

In Mansfield Park, Tom Bertram met John Yates in Weymouth, whilst in Sense and Sensibility, silly Mrs Palmer had been visiting in Weymouth with her uncle and had therefore missed Mr Willoughby’s previous visit to Allenham.

In Emma, it is at Weymouth that Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill met and fell in love and entered into a secret engagement.

Mr Knightley said of Frank Churchill:

“It is not to be conceived that a man of three or four-and-twenty should not have liberty of mind or limb to that amount. He cannot want money—he cannot want leisure. We know, on the contrary, that he has so much of both, that he is glad to get rid of them at the idlest haunts in the kingdom. We hear of him for ever at some watering-place or other. A little while ago, he was at Weymouth.”9

Mrs Weston later breaks the news to Emma that Jane Fairfax is engaged to Frank Churchill:

“You may well be amazed. But it is even so. There has been a solemn engagement between them ever since October—formed at Weymouth, and kept a secret from every body.”10

Jane Austen’s opinion of Brighton

I have always believed that Jane disliked Brighton. Like many others, I read the following quote from one of her letters, dated 8 January 1799, which suggested that her opinion of Brighton was unfavourable at best:

I assure you that I dread the idea of going to Brighton as much as you do, but I am not without hopes that something may happen to prevent it.11

However, in Deirdre Le Faye’s book of Jane Austen’s Letters, the text reads ‘Bookham’ and not ‘Brighton’. Le Faye writes in her notes that the word was crossed out in the original manuscript, presumably to hide Jane’s unfavourable reference to the home of her Cooke cousins. It was wrongly guessed at by Lord Brabourne and the mistake has been circulating ever since.12

You can read about George IV's Brighton here.

Brighton in Jane Austen’s novels

Brighton Pavilion

Despite the lack of proof that Jane detested Brighton, I am inclined to think she would have disliked it for its associations with the Prince Regent, whom she hated.13

In Pride and Prejudice, three of Jane Austen’s silliest characters, Mrs Bennet, Lydia and Kitty, are all desperate to go to Brighton, the most fashionable seaside resort of the time:

“If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs Bennet.

“Oh, yes! If one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”

“A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”14

Lydia, of course, gets her wish of going to Brighton – and proceeds to elope from there with the infamous Mr Wickham!

In Mansfield Park, the Rushworths go to Brighton for their honeymoon, with Julia Bertram in tow.

The plan of the young couple was to proceed, after a few days, to Brighton, and take a house there for some weeks. Every public place was new to Maria, and Brighton is almost as gay in winter as in summer.15

But even the entertainments of Brighton and London are insufficient to keep the young Mrs Rushworth contented for long and ultimately she succumbs to the illicit attractions of Henry Crawford.

Southend in Jane Austen's novels

Jane wrote in a letter to her brother Frank in July 1813 that their brother Charles and his family were all in Southend together.16

Southend is mentioned in Emma and the argument between Isabella and Mr Woodhouse quoted above is brought to a rapid conclusion by Emma saying wistfully:

“I must beg you not to talk of the sea. It makes me envious and miserable;—I who have never seen it! South End is prohibited, if you please.”17

Did Jane Austen like the seaside?

I think the answer is most definitely yes. Her description of Lyme Regis in Persuasion is full of praise for its natural beauty, asking the reader the question: ‘How could you not like it?’ I like to think that she would have appreciated Weymouth, my home town, for the same reasons, particularly after the king’s visits had ceased and it became less fashionable.

Emma concludes with Emma Woodhouse's marriage to Mr Knightley. I think that Jane Austen must have liked the seaside to send Emma there for her honeymoon:

They had determined that their marriage ought to be concluded while John and Isabella were still at Hartfield, to allow them the fortnight’s absence in a tour to the seaside.18

Burton Bradstock, Dorset

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.

 

This post was updated in June 2017 to include references to Ramsgate and Southend, more quotes from Jane Austen’s work and letters, and updated sections on Brighton and Weymouth. 

Notes
(1) From Sanditon by Jane Austen and another lady (1875).
(2) From Emma by Jane Austen (1815).
(3) In a letter dated 3-6 July 1813 in Jane Austen’s Letters edited by Deirdre Le Faye (1995).
(4) From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813).
(5) In a letter from Jane Austen dated 14 September 1804 recorded in Jane Austen, Her Life and Letters by William and Richard Austen-Leigh (1913).
(6) From Persuasion by Jane Austen (1817).
(7) From Persuasion by Jane Austen (1817).
(8) In a letter from Jane Austen dated 14 September 1804, from Jane Austen’s Letters edited by Deirdre Le Faye (1995).
(9) From Emma by Jane Austen (1815).
(10) From Emma by Jane Austen (1815).
(11) In a letter from Jane Austen to her sister dated 8 January 1799, from The Letters of Jane Austen selected from the compilation of Lord Bradbourne (1892).
(12) See text for the above letter and accompanying note in Jane Austen’s Letters edited by Deirdre Le Faye (1995). My thanks to Yoram Cohen for pointing out this mistake in my original post.
(13) Referring to the Princess of Wales, Jane wrote: “Poor Woman, I shall support her as long as I can, because she is a Woman, & because I hate her husband.” In a letter from Jane Austen to Martha Lloyd dated 16 February 1813 in Jane Austen’s Letters edited by Deirdre Le Faye (1995).
(14) From Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813).
(15) From Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (1814).
(16) In a letter to Frank Austen dated 3-6 July 1813 in Jane Austen’s Letters edited by Deirdre Le Faye (1995).
(17) From Emma by Jane Austen (1815).
(18) From Emma by Jane Austen (1815).

Sources used include:
Austen, Jane, and another lady, Sanditon (1975)
Austen, Jane, Emma (1815)
Austen, Jane, Jane Austen's Letters, Collected and Edited by Le Faye, Deirdre (Oxford University Press, 1995)
Austen, Jane, Mansfield Park (1814)
Austen, Jane, My dear Cassandra, letters to her sister selected and introduced by Penelope Hughes-Hallett (Collins & Brown Ltd, 1990)
Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion (1817)
Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813)
Austen, Jane, Sense and Sensibility (1811)
Austen, Jane, The Letters of Jane Austen selected from the compilation of her great nephew, Edward, Lord Bradbourne ed Sarah Woolsey (1892)
Austen-Leigh, William and Richard Arthur, Jane Austen, Her Life and Letters (1913)
Butcher, Rev Edmund, A new guide descriptive of the beauties of Sidmouth (1830, Exeter)
Cecil, David, A Portrait of Jane Austen (Constable, 1978; Penguin, 1980, London)
Chedzoy, Alan, Seaside Sovereign - King George III at Weymouth (The Dovecote Press, 2003, Wimborne)
Feltham, John, Editor of the Picture of London, A Guide to all the Watering and Sea-Bathing Places (1815)
Simpkin & Marshall, Weymouth as a Watering Place (Simpkin & Marshall, 1857, London)

Photographs © RegencyHistory.net

George IV and the Brighton Pavilion

Brighton Pavilion - the Steyne front

George IV's Royal Pavilion, Brighton

George IV delighted in redesigning and developing his royal residences. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the Royal Pavilion, Brighton. During the first phase of royal occupancy, the original farmhouse was converted into the Marine Pavilion by Henry Holland, but George soon tired of its Neo-classical perfections and commissioned the orientalising of the interiors.

The new stable block

In 1803, George engaged William Porden to build a new stable block. His Indian-influenced design incorporated a huge glazed iron roof based on the domed trading floor of Bélanger’s Halle au Blé and cost £49,871 to build. A contemporary guidebook described it as a “truly magnificent building”.

The Indian influence

However, the new stables and riding school dwarfed the main building, and George was soon seeking new designs for the pavilion itself which would be compatible with their magnificence. Although temporarily halted by lack of funds, in 1815 George was finally able to commission John Nash, his new favourite, to redevelop the pavilion using the picturesque qualities of Indian architecture.

The skyline of the new pavilion

Nash added two square blocks, one at each end of Holland’s Marine Pavilion, crowning each of them with a tent-like roof. In the centre, above Holland’s rotunda, Nash placed a huge onion-shaped dome, and he echoed this feature by adorning the roofs of the adjacent wings with smaller versions of this dome. The concave nature of the tent-like roofs balanced the convex shape of the onion-shaped domes, and, together with the tall Islamic minarets and chimney stacks, cleverly gave height to the long, low profile of the pavilion.

The miniature onion-shaped domes and tall chimney stacks
on the eastern front of the Brighton Pavilion   

A truly Indian design?

Nash is recorded as borrowing Thomas and William Daniell’s “Oriental Scenery” from the prince’s library and he used inspiration from these pictures of genuine Indian buildings for some of the details of his designs.

One such element was the perforated stone screen based on the Indian “jali”, designed to provide shade and ventilation in the heat of the Indian summer. This was made from Bath stone and was situated between the tall Indian pillars which masked the saloon, music room and banqueting room. The rest of the walls were covered in stucco.

The pierced stone "jali", Brighton Pavilion

But although Nash’s design was primarily Hindustan in style, he delighted in pulling together ideas from other places in a truly eclectic manner. The extended pavilion was classically balanced and the way he grouped the tall chimney stacks together was distinctly Tudor in style. Even the “jali” was not truly Indian; the design used in the pierced stone was of a Gothic quatrefoil.

The music room

Nash’s pavilion boasted two exceptional new rooms. The first of these was the music room, which was situated in the new square block to the north with an additional extension for the largest English-made organ of the time. The room was decorated in a the Chinese style with a dramatic colour scheme of “Carmine, Lake, Crome Yellow and other expensive colours”, and a huge marble and ormolu chimney piece, made by Westmacott and Vulliamy which alone cost £1,684.

The music room  with its tent-like roof, Brighton Pavilion

Winged dragons sat above the curtain pelmets and huge crimson and gold murals adorned the walls, framed by dragons and serpents. Water-lily chandeliers were suspended from the high vaulted ceiling so that they seemed to float in the air; they were converted to gas in 1821. The whole was topped by a tent-like octagonal cornice and the furnishings included six large Oriental porcelain pagodas made at the Spode factory.

The banqueting room

The banqueting room, to the south, was equally magnificent, with its decorative scheme by Robert Jones. The forty-five foot high dome was painted as if it was open to a tropical sky and was almost completely filled by the representation of a huge plantain tree. From its centre, an enormous dragon was suspended, which held a thirty foot high chandelier in its claws. The chandelier alone cost over £5,600.

Four lotus-leaf bowls also hung from the ceiling, suspended by “Fum” or “F’eng” – Chinese mythological birds. The furniture included two “very large and superbly decorated Sideboards”.

Even the Princess Lieven was overwhelmed, declaring: “I do not believe that, since the days of Heliogabalus, there has been such magnificence and such luxury.”

Sources used include:
Editor of the Picture of London, A Guide to all the Watering and Sea-Bathing Places (1815)
Huish, Robert, Memoirs of George IV (1830)
Morley, John, The Royal Pavilion, Brighton
Nash, John, Views of the Royal Pavilion with commentary by Gervase Jackson-Stops (1991)
Parissien, Steven, George IV, The Grand Entertainment (2001)

Photographs © Andrew Knowles - www.flickr.com/photos/dragontomato

George IV and the Marine Pavilion, Brighton

Brighton Pavilion - part of the Steyne front

Brighton House

George, Prince of Wales, first rented Brighton House from his German chef and general factotum, Louis Weltje, in 1786. This “superior farmhouse” was situated on the Steyne, a fashionable promenade, with views of the sea to the south. It was not until 1793 that Weltje formally leased the pavilion to the prince at a cost of £1,000 a year.

The Marine Pavilion

Henry Holland was the architect that George chose to redesign the pavilion. Holland had already completed the transformation of Carlton House into a Neoclassical masterpiece and it was the same Neoclassical inspiration that influenced his designs for the pavilion.

He built a rotunda over the grand saloon to the north of the existing building and then added an extra wing beyond that to balance the original farmhouse, thereby creating a symmetrical building. The old wing contained the prince’s private apartments whilst the new wing provided space for an eating room and a library. The rooms to the north and the south of the rotunda were bounded by a corridor to the west which enabled easier access.

Holland’s design incorporated bow windows and iron balconies which have become indicative of regency style, with French windows along the whole of the Steyne front. He used cream-glazed Hampshire tiles to cover the walls of both old and new buildings to create a uniform whole.

During 1787-8, £21,454 was spent on redecorating the villa and fitting it out with expensive French furniture.

The grand saloon

The rotunda was the centre of the Marine Pavilion, housing a circular drawing room which was the only large reception room in the house. Outside the tall French windows of the saloon, Holland built a row of pillars, giving the rotunda a classical appearance.

It was originally decorated with Neoclassical paintings by Biagio Rebecca. Records show that he was paid the sum of £160 for painting the spectacular sky ceiling.

In 1802-4, the saloon was redecorated in the style of a Chinese garden arbour. A bamboo balustrade was added above the cornice, with the open sky painted on the ceiling above. The walls displayed large panels of Chinese painted wallpaper with a bright colour scheme of blue, red and yellow.

Brighton Pavilion
External view of the grand saloon as it is today

Oriental influence

Even as early as 1800, George was becoming bored of the Neoclassical beauty of Holland’s pavilion and was looking for new designs. His taste now showed a marked preference for the Chinese style. It has been suggested that this was provoked by a gift of “very beautiful Chinese paper” in 1802, but drawings from the previous year indicate that the prince was already looking at designs in the Chinoiserie style. It is possible that he was influenced to some extent by Chamber’s Chinese Pagoda at Kew.
 

Chinese wallpaper in Belton House, Lincolnshire

By 1803, £12,799 had been spent on orientalising the interiors of the Marine Pavilion, primarily at the hands of the firm of Crace.

A contemporary guidebook of 1815 declares that the furniture is “Chinese and is uncommonly splendid”.

Further development

Visitor entrance to the Brighton Pavilion

But the prince was not content with the Marine Pavilion for long. Whilst the interiors were being transformed into the oriental style, Holland, and his nephew and pupil, PF Robinson, were extending the main building to include a new eating room and conservatory, and a new entrance hall was created by extending the portico out to the west. The ground floor rooms of the original villa were also amalgamated to form two larger galleries on either side of the central saloon.

In 1815, the prince commissioned John Nash to redesign the pavilion; the result is the Brighton Pavilion as it is today which leaves little of Holland’s Marine Pavilion apart from the grand saloon housed by the rotunda.

Sources used include:
Editor of the Picture of London, A Guide to all the Watering and Sea-Bathing Places (1815)
Huish, Robert, Memoirs of George IV (1830)
Morley, John, The Royal Pavilion, Brighton
Nash, John, Views of the Royal Pavilion with commentary by Gervase Jackson-Stops (1991)
Parissien, Steven, George IV, The Grand Entertainment (2001)

Photographs by Andrew Knowles - www.flickr.com/photos/dragontomato

The architectural achievements of George IV

Buckingham Palace - view from the gardens

George the architect

George IV was passionate about architecture and delighted in the opportunity of putting his ideas into practice. With little thought of cost, except when his finances dried up, George indulged in extravagant building projects where his taste was allowed free rein. His architectural schemes included the redevelopment of Carlton House, Brighton Pavilion, Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle.

There is no doubt that George had a keenly developed aesthetic sense. He was an enthusiastic patron of the arts and became involved in his building projects on an intimate level. He did not merely commission the redevelopment of his royal residences; he scrutinised the plans in detail and continually made changes to the designs. Working closely with architects like Henry Holland and John Nash, who would carry out his wishes without demur, he was able to exert a substantial influence on the execution of the plans.

The best design?

Perhaps his greatest achievement was the original redevelopment of Carlton House by Henry Holland which was greatly admired. The French-inspired, Neo-classical villa was deemed by Horace Walpole to be “the most perfect in Europe” and has become indicative of the Regency style of architecture. The interior was fitted out in sumptuous style but with a restrained elegance that was the epitome of classical taste.

Carlton Palace
from Memoirs of George IV by Robert Huish (1831)

The rise and fall of Carlton House

But with a restlessness that is mirrored elsewhere in his personal life, George was never content with the results of his endeavours for long. He was continually redecorating and redeveloping, as clearly illustrated by his relationship with Carlton House.

The Rose Satin Drawing Room at Carlton House had four different chimney pieces between 1784 and 1819, and the colour of its silk wall-hangings and seat upholstery was changed three times during a ten year period.

More fundamentally, Holland’s beautiful classical interiors were later completely obliterated by the designs of the amateur, Walsh Porter, who introduced the Admiral’s Room and the Military Tent Room. The whole was then redeveloped again when George began his regency, this time under the auspices of John Nash.

But the ultimate display of George’s fickleness came in 1826, when, despite the huge costs of its final redevelopment, he ordered that Carlton House be completely demolished.

The changing face of Brighton Pavilion

Skyline of Brighton Pavilion

Brighton Pavilion also suffered from George’s ever-changing inclinations. In the early years of his residency, Brighton House was developed by Henry Holland into the Marine Pavilion – a Neo-classical villa which displayed a similar elegance to the Carlton House of the same period. Tired of the Neo-classical influence, George then commissioned the redecoration of the interiors in the Chinese style by the firm of Crace, and subsequently the addition of a huge domed building, housing a stable block, in the Indian style, designed by William Porden.

The whole of the main building was then redesigned by John Nash, who added the magnificent Music Room and Banqueting Room and a bizarre array of domes and minarets to the roof that gave the Pavilion a distinctly eastern appearance. But true to character, but a few years after his final designs were completed, he abandoned the Brighton Pavilion altogether. It stands, however, as an enduring monument to the frivolity, extravagance and ever-changing taste of George IV.

Extravagance and frivolity

Huge amounts of public money were spent on George’s architectural projects. Costs continually spiralled out of control as his architects failed to keep a check on the ever-increasing costs of incorporating George’s latest whims. For example, in 1785, the costs at Carlton House amounted to £147,293 but Holland estimated that he needed a further £69,700 in order to complete it.

It was not surprising that many people felt that George was not investing his energy and resources for the good of the country. As his biographer, Huish states:

“What occasion was there that His Royal Highness should send to the upholsterer, the furniture man, and other people? No man could suppose that he should occupy his attention with such frivolous objects.”

Sources used include:
Huish, Robert, Memoirs of George IV (1830)
Morley, John, The Royal Pavilion, Brighton
Parissien, Steven, George IV, The Grand Entertainment (2001)

Photographs by Andrew Knowles - www.flickr.com/photos/dragontomato