Regency dining etiquette - a Regency History guide

A banquet at the Royal Pavilion, Brighton from the coloured
lithograph by J Nash in Life in Regency and
Early Victorian Times by EB Chancellor (1926)

When I’m writing a scene set at a Regency dinner party, I often find myself asking questions about how they would have done things. As I strive for historical accuracy in what I write, I’ve tried to develop an understanding of the etiquette observed at the time. I have looked at books on etiquette, contemporary novels, letters and journals to try and establish some rules. As with all things historical, they are more guidelines than a strict code of behaviour, as no doubt there was variation as to when or even if these rules were applied, across time, class and location.

 

I've already looked at Regency dinner times here. 

Did Regency people gather in the drawing room before dinner?

In Trusler’s A System of Etiquette (1804), he wrote:

When invited to dinner, make a point of always being there in proper time, not to make the company wait; fifteen minutes at least before the appointed hour, and to prevent mistakes, see that your watch goes right, and make a proper allowance for the time in going. A superior indeed, will not wait your coming beyond the time; and if you enter after the company is seated, you are a general disturber.

He continued:

On your entering the room where the company is, address yourself first to the lady of the house, next to the master, and after, to the rest of the company you are introduced to, by a respectful bow to each.₁

As he then proceeded to give instructions about walking into the room where dinner is served, this suggests it was expected that the company would gather before going into the dining room.

The Pocket Book of Etiquette (1837) states that this usually took place in the drawing room:

On arriving at the house of the inviter, you will be shown into the room in which the party are assembling (ordinarily the drawing room); here, of course, you will be presented.₂

This would seem to be borne out in Jane Austen’s novels. In Mansfield Park, she wrote:

Thus much was settled before Edmund, who had been out all the morning, knew anything of the matter; but when he entered the drawing-room before dinner, the buzz of discussion was high between Tom, Maria, and Mr Yates.₃

Dining room, Felbrigg Hall (2019)

Did they use a dinner bell or gong?

I have not, as yet, come across any contemporary reference to a dinner gong, but Maria Edgeworth mentions a dinner bell in her novel Belinda (1801):

Before Belinda had answered these questions to her satisfaction, the dinner-bell rang.₄

In Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey, Elinor Tilney knows what time her father expects dinner to be served and urges Catherine Morland to hurry to the drawing room. When the company is gathered, the General calls for dinner:

Miss Tilney gently hinted her fear of being late; and in half a minute they ran downstairs together, in an alarm not wholly unfounded, for General Tilney was pacing the drawing-room, his watch in his hand, and having, on the very instant of their entering, pulled the bell with violence, ordered “Dinner to be on table directly!”₅

How did guests enter the dining room?

In The Honours of the Table (1791), Trusler wrote:

In all public companies precedence is attended to, and particularly at table. Women have here always taken place of men, and both men and women have sat above each other, according to the rank they bear in life. Where a company is equal in point of rank, married ladies take place of single ones and older ones of younger ones.

When dinner is announced, the mistress of the house requests the lady first in rank, in company, to shew the way to the rest, and walk first into the room where the table is served; she then asks the second in precedence to follow, and after all the ladies are passed, she brings up the rear herself. The master of the house does the same with the gentlemen. Among persons of real distinction, this marshalling of the company is unnecessary, every woman and every man present knows his rank and precedence, and takes the lead, without any direction from the mistress or the master.₆

In Pride and Prejudice, after her marriage, Lydia is anxious to assert her precedence over her eldest sister Jane:

She [Elizabeth] then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with anxious parade, walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say to her eldest sister, “Ah! Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a married woman.”₇

Domestic Duties (1825) suggests that the host rather than the hostess takes the lead, and that the company proceeds in couples rather than all the ladies before the gentlemen:

When dinner is announced, the gentleman of the house selects the lady most distinguished by rank, or respectable by age; or the one who is the greatest stranger in the party, to lead to the dining-room…the rest of the party follow in couples.₈

Illustration by Hugh Thomson
from Emma by Jane Austen (1896 edition)

How were guests seated at the table?

Describing an English dinner in 1810, Simond wrote:

The master and mistress of the house sit at each end of the table, — narrower and longer than the French tables, — the mistress at the upper end ; — and the places near her are the places of honour.₉

In his 1804 book on etiquette, Trusler wrote:

Seats at table, are taken generally in the like manner, the ladies at the upper end of the table, the gentlemen at the lower; but the master or mistress of the house will sometimes direct it otherwise, and seat the ladies and gentlemen alternately, that is one gentleman and one lady, and so on, for convenience. When the men and women are so mixed, it is a mark of good manners to carve and help the ladies, to any dish that may be near you.

The mistress of the house always sits at the upper-end of her table, provided any ladies are present, and her husband at the lower-end; but, if the company consists of gentlemen only, the mistress seldom appears, in which case, the master takes the upper-seat.₁₀

In Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen described a dinner party at Rosings, the home of Lady Catherine de Bourgh:

The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants and all the articles of plate which Mr Collins had promised; and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish nothing greater. He carved, and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity.₁₁

Later in the book, at a dinner party at Longbourn, most of the company are left to choose their own places at the table:

When they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take the place, which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was decided. He placed himself by her.₁₂

In Domestic Duties (1825), Mrs Parkes wrote:

When dinner is announced, the gentleman of the house selects the lady most distinguished by rank, or respectable by age; or the one who is the greatest stranger in the party, to lead to the dining-room, where he places her by himself. If her husband be of the party, he takes the lady of the house to her place at table, and seats himself beside her: the rest of the party follow in couples; and the hostess arranges them according to their rank, or according to what she imagines may be their expectations; always, however, placing the greatest strangers amongst the gentlemen near herself. This arrangement should be effected in an easy, gentle manner, and with as little form as possible.₁₃

This arrangement was clearly not universal as Mrs Parkes felt the need to comment on the custom of host and hostess sitting together:

It is customary in some houses, which are regarded as fashionable, for the master and mistress to sit together at the head of the table, leaving the lower end in charge of a son, or some male relation or friend; but this custom has never been sanctioned by general usage, and is so objectionable, as far as regards the attention and comfort which every guest has a right to expect from his host, that it is not likely ever to prevail. It is true that bad health, advanced age, or accidental circumstances may place a gentleman as a guest at his own table, but when these do not exist, his appropriate situation is, certainly, at the lower end of the table.₁₄

Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Wickham at dinner
  Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813)
Illustration by C E Brock (1895)

Who could you speak to at a Regency dinner party?

I have long held the belief that you weren’t supposed to talk to anyone apart from the person seated on your immediate right and left, but I am struggling to find this spelt out in any of the books on etiquette I have read. In smaller gatherings, it seems that general conversation was normal:

In Domestic Duties (1825), Mrs Parkes wrote:

A very large party is not likely to be so lively and sociable, as one of moderate size. A remark has somewhere been made, that a dinner party should never be less in number than the graces, nor more than the muses, but certainly more than ten or twelve in number is not desirable. When a table is very long, the conversation, witticisms and pleasantries at one end, must be lost at the other.

She continued:

The conversation must, in a great degree, however, be regulated by the host and hostess; who should be always prepared to rouse it, when it becomes heavy, or to change it, skilfully, when it is likely to turn upon subjects known to be unpleasant to any of their visitors.₁₅

In Pride and Prejudice, at the dinner at Rosings Park mentioned above, Lady Catherine listens to Mr Collins’s conversation, even though he is seated at the far end of the table from her. Elizabeth, however, finds it hard to converse because of where she is placed:

Every dish was commended, first by him [Mr Collins] and then by Sir William, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law said, in a manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear. But Lady Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved a novelty to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth was ready to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh—the former of whom was engaged in listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all dinner-time. Mrs Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, and the gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.₁₆

At the dinner at Longbourn also mentioned above, Elizabeth reflects on Mr Darcy’s position at the dinner table. As was due to a gentleman of his consequence, he is seated next to the hostess:

Mr Darcy was almost as far from her as the table could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was their manner whenever they did.₁₇

In Mansfield Park, Fanny Price is invited to dinner by Mrs Grant at the parsonage. With six sat down to dinner, there seems to be only one conversation going on at the dinner table:

A very cordial meeting passed between him [Henry Crawford] and Edmund; and with the exception of Fanny, the pleasure was general; and even to her there might be some advantage in his presence, since every addition to the party must rather forward her favourite indulgence of being suffered to sit silent and unattended to. She was soon aware of this herself; for though she must submit, as her own propriety of mind directed, in spite of her aunt Norris’s opinion, to being the principal lady in company, and to all the little distinctions consequent thereon, she found, while they were at table, such a happy flow of conversation prevailing, in which she was not required to take any part—there was so much to be said between the brother and sister about Bath, so much between the two young men about hunting, so much of politics between Mr Crawford and Dr Grant, and of everything and all together between Mr Crawford and Mrs Grant, as to leave her the fairest prospect of having only to listen in quiet, and of passing a very agreeable day.₁₈

The Dashwoods at dinner with the Middletons
  Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen (1811)
Illustration by Hugh Thomson (1896)

In Sense and Sensibility, Mrs Jennings has rather vulgar manners:

Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder Miss Dashwoods. Mrs Jennings sat on Elinor’s right hand; and they had not been long seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, and said to Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, “I have found you out in spite of all your tricks. I know where you spent the morning.”₁₉

Did they use napkins?

Domestic Duties (1825) states:

When, according to the continental fashion, the cloth is allowed to remain on the table; or, according to the more general custom of this country, before it is removed, a silver, or a china or glass dish, containing rose-water, is passed round the table, into which each guest dips the corner of his table napkin, for the purpose of refreshing his mouth and fingers, prior to the appearance of the dessert.₂₀

Earlier, in 1810, Simonds observed that sometimes the tablecloth was used instead of a napkin:

Towards the end of dinner, and before the ladies retire, bowls of coloured glass full of water are placed before each person. All (women as well as men) stoop over it, sucking up some of the water, and returning it, often more than once, and, with a spitting and washing sort of noise, quite charming,— the operation frequently assisted by a finger elegantly thrust into the mouth! This done, and the hands dipped also, the napkins, and sometimes the table-cloth, are used to wipe hand and mouth.₂₁

When was dinner over?

It was polite for the host or hostess of a dinner party to keep eating as long as any of their guests. Trusler wrote in The Honours of the Table (1791):

The master or mistress of the table should continue eating, whilst any of the company are so employed, and to enable them to do this, they should help themselves accordingly.₂₂

Did the children of the house join the company after dinner?

This must have been a custom in the circles in which Jane Austen moved. In Emma, she described a dinner party at the Coles’s:

She [Emma] said no more, other subjects took their turn; and the rest of the dinner passed away; the dessert succeeded, the children came in, and were talked to and admired amid the usual rate of conversation.₂₃

Similarly, in Sense and Sensibility:

Lady Middleton seemed to be roused to enjoyment only by the entrance of her four noisy children after dinner, who pulled her about, tore her clothes, and put an end to every kind of discourse except what related to themselves.₂₄

I’ve looked at the question of drinking healths and ladies withdrawing from the table to leave the men at their wine in a separate post here.

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. Trusler, Rev Dr John, A System of Etiquette (1804).

2. Freeling, Arthur, The Pocket Book of Etiquette (Liverpool, 1837).

3. Austen, Jane, Mansfield Park (1814).

4. Edgeworth, Maria, Belinda (1801).

5. Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey (1817).

6. Trusler, John, The Honours of the Table, or, rules for behaviour during meals (1791).

7. Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813).

8. Parkes, Mrs William, Domestic Duties or Instructions to young married ladies on the management of their households (London, 1825).

9. Simond, Louis, Journal of a Tour and Residence in Great Britain, during the years 1810 and 1811 (1815).

10. Trusler, Rev Dr John, A System of Etiquette (1804).

11. Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813).

12. Ibid.

13. Parkes op cit.

14. Ibid.

15. Ibid.

16. Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice (1813).

17. Ibid.

18. Austen, Jane, Mansfield Park (1814).

19. Austen, Jane, Sense and Sensibility (1811).

20. Parkes op cit.

21. Simond op cit.

22. Trusler, John, The Honours of the Table, or, rules for behaviour during meals (1791).

23. Austen, Jane, Emma (1815).

24. Austen, Jane, Sense and Sensibility (1811).

 

Sources used include:

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, Northanger Abbey (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)

Cruickshank, Dan and Burton, Neil, Life in the Georgian City (1990)

Edgeworth, Maria, Belinda (1801)

Espriella, Don Manuel Alvare, Letters from England, translated from the Spanish by Robert Southey 3rd edition (1814) Volume 1

Freeling, Arthur, The Pocket Book of Etiquette (Liverpool, 1837)

Parkes, Mrs William, Domestic Duties or Instructions to young married ladies on the management of their households (London, 1825)

Simond, Louis, Journal of a Tour and Residence in Great Britain, during the years 1810 and 1811 (1815)

Trusler, Rev Dr John, A System of Etiquette (1804)

Trusler, John, The Honours of the Table, or, rules for behaviour during meals (1791)

All photographs © Regencyhistory.net

 

The Austen-Edgeworth connection

Left: Maria Edgeworth from Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth ed A Hare (1895)
Right: Jane Austen from A Memoir of Jane Austen by JE Austen Leigh (1871)

Two of the women in my book—What Regency Women Did For Us—were novelists. One is undoubtedly today’s best known Regency novelist – Jane Austen; the other is the lesser known Maria Edgeworth. You might be surprised to hear that it was not always that way round. Back in their day, it was Maria Edgeworth who was the more famous of the two and the more commercially successful. Indeed, she probably earned more money from her novels during her lifetime than any of her contemporaries.

Maria Edgeworth wrote both fiction and non-fiction works and became well-known after the publication of Essays on Practical Education in 1798, which she co-wrote with her father, Richard Lovell Edgeworth.

The Leigh Perrot connection

I don’t know whether Maria’s family knew the Austens, but her father was certainly acquainted with Jane’s great aunt and uncle, the Leigh Perrots. Richard Lovell Edgeworth became acquainted with the Leigh Perrots when living in Berkshire before Maria was born. His memoirs include a letter written by James Leigh Perrot in 1795 confirming his observations of Richard’s experiments in telegraphic communication back in 1767.

Richard wrote to congratulate the Leigh Perrots in 1800 after Mrs Leigh Perrot was successfully cleared from false charges of shoplifting.

Richard Lovell Edgeworth
from Memoirs of Richard Lovell Edgeworth (1821)

I wonder whether Jane and Maria ever met. I haven’t come across any evidence of such a meeting. However, they were definitely aware of each other’s work and read some, if not all, of it.

Austen on Edgeworth

In a letter to her niece Anna, an aspiring author, Jane Austen wrote:

I have made up my mind to like no novels really but Miss Edgeworth's, yours, and my own.1

Belinda, one of Maria Edgeworth’s novels, was published in 1801 and Jane made reference to it in Northanger Abbey. Although the first draft, then entitled Susan, was written in the late 1790s, Jane revised the manuscript before selling it to the publisher Crosby in 1803. She mentions Belinda in her wonderful defence of the novel, along with Cecilia and Camilla, two books written by Fanny Burney:

‘And what are you reading, Miss——?’

‘Oh, it is only a novel!’ replies the young lady, while she lays down her book with affected indifference or momentary shame. ‘It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humour, are conveyed to the world in the best-chosen language.’2

Top: Illustration from Belinda
by Maria Edgeworth (1848 edition)
Bottom: Illustration from Northanger Abbey
by Jane Austen (1833 edition)

Edgeworth on Austen

Maria Edgeworth clearly enjoyed reading Jane Austen’s work. She wrote in a letter to her cousin:

We have been much entertained with Mansfield Park.3

When Emma was published, Jane sent a list of people to her publisher to whom she wanted a set of volumes sent, unbound, labelled ‘from the author’. Maria Edgeworth was one of those to whom Emma was sent.

We know that Maria received the volumes because she wrote to her aunt:

The authoress of Pride and Prejudice has been so good as to send me a new novel just published, Emma.4

But the most fascinating passage I have come across is in a letter that Maria Edgeworth wrote to her aunt in 1818, after reading Northanger Abbey, and whilst she was in the middle of reading Persuasion:

I entirely agree with you, my dearest aunt, on one subject, as indeed I generally do on most subjects, but particularly about Northanger Abbey and Persuasion. The behaviour of the General in Northanger Abbey, packing off the young lady without a servant or the common civilities which any bear of a man, not to say gentleman, would have shown, is quite outrageously out of drawing and out of nature. Persuasion— excepting the tangled, useless histories of the family in the first fifty pages—appears to me, especially in all that relates to poor Anne and her lover, to be exceedingly interesting and natural. The love and the lover admirably well drawn: don't you see Captain Wentworth, or rather don't you in her place feel him taking the boisterous child off her back as she kneels by the sick boy on the sofa? And is not the first meeting after their long separation admirably well done? And the overheard conversation about the nut? But I must stop: we have got no farther than the disaster of Miss Musgrave's jumping off the steps.5

My daughter Belle on The Cobb steps, Lyme Regis

I find Maria Edgeworth’s criticism of General Tilney’s behaviour very interesting, especially in the light of a much later letter to a friend in which she discussed her writing technique. Her argument was that even if such inconsistent behaviour as the General’s was exhibited in real life, it was unbelievable unless the reader knew that it was true.

I acknowledge that even a perfectly true character absolutely taken as a facsimile from real life would not be interesting in a fiction, might not be believed, and could not be useful. The value of these odd characters depends, I acknowledge, upon their being actually known to be true. In history, extraordinary characters always interest us with all their inconsistencies, feeling we thus add to our actual knowledge of human nature. In fiction we have not this conviction, and therefore not this sort or source of pleasure even if ever so well done; if it be quite a new inconsistency we feel doubtful and averse; but we submit when we know it is true: we say, ‘don't therefore tell me it is not in human nature.’6

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.

Notes

(1) From The Letters of Jane Austen selected from the compilation of her great nephew, Edward, Lord Bradbourne, ed Sarah Woolsey (1892).

(2) From Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen (1818).

(3) From Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth (1895), in a letter to Miss Ruxton dated 26 December 1814.

(4) From Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth (1895), in a letter to her aunt dated 10 January 1816.

(5) From Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth (1895), in a letter dated 21 February 1818 to her aunt, Mrs Ruxton in Life and Letter vol 1

(6) From Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth (1895), in a letter dated 6 Sept 1834 to Mrs Stark in response to the criticism of her cousin, Colonel Matthew Stewart, on her novel, Helen.

Sources used include:

Austen, Jane, The Letters of Jane Austen selected from the compilation of her great nephew, Edward, Lord Bradbourne ed Sarah Woolsey (1892)

Austen, Jane, Northanger Abbey and Persuasion (1818)

Austen-Leigh, James Edward, Memoir of Jane Austen (1871)

Edgeworth, Maria, Belinda (1801)

Edgeworth, Maria, The Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth, ed by Augustus JC Hare (1895)

Edgeworth, Richard Lovell and Maria, Memoirs of Richard Lovell Edgeworth esq (1821)

A Regency History guide to Belinda by Maria Edgeworth

Belinda at Lady Delacour's feet
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1850 version)

A moral tale

Belinda is a novel by Maria Edgeworth, first published in 1801 in three volumes. However, the author was clearly anxious that her work was not lumped together with the trashy novels of her day and in a note at the beginning of the book, she wrote:

“The following work is offered to the public as a Moral Tale – the author not wishing to acknowledge a Novel. Were all novels like those of Madame de Crousaz, Mrs Inchbald, Miss Burney, or Dr Moore, she would adopt the name of novel with delight: But so much folly, errour, and vice are disseminated in the books classed under this denomination, that it is hoped the wish to assume another title will be attributed to feelings that are laudable, and not fastidious.” (1)

Maria Edgeworth (1768-1849)
from Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth (1895)

The (almost) original version

Unlike most novels today, the text of Belinda was altered in subsequent editions. The second edition, published in 1802, included only minor revisions and it is this text, republished by Oxford World’s Classics, on which this post is based.

However, there was a later version of Belinda which was included in Mrs Barbauld’s British Novelists Series published in 1810 and this text had some significant differences from the previous editions. The main purpose of these revisions was to bring it into line with the widely held values of the time and make the characters conform more to the ideals of the romantic novel. The changes included removing any hint of an interracial marriage, playing down the possibility that Belinda would ever marry the Creole (2) Mr Vincent and completely eliminating the marriage between Mr Vincent’s black servant and an English girl.

The characters

Belinda Portman – the heroine

Mrs Stanhope – Belinda’s matchmaking aunt

Lady Delacour – the society hostess with whom Belinda stays in London

Lord Delacour – Lady Delacour’s dissolute husband

Clarence Hervey – Belinda’s suitor #1

Sir Philip Baddeley – one of Mr Hervey’s dissipated friends and Belinda’s suitor #2

Mr Rochfort – another of Mr Hervey’s dissipated friends

Mr Vincent – Belinda’s suitor #3 - a rich West Indian gentleman

Mr Henry Percival – a gentleman who once loved Lady Delacour, but who has found happiness in his second attachment

Lady Anne Percival – Mr Percival’s wife, seemingly the perfect wife and mother

Helena Delacour – Lady Delacour’s only surviving child

Margaret Delacour – Lord Delacour’s sister

Mrs Luttridge – Lady Delacour’s rival

Mrs Harriet Freke – once Lady Delacour’s friend, but now her bitterest enemy

Marriott – Lady Delacour’s maid

Champfort – Lord Delacour’s manservant

Virginia St Pierre – a young woman living under Mr Hervey’s protection

Mrs Ormond – Virginia’s companion

Mr Moreton – a clergyman who was badly treated by Harriet Freke but rewarded by Mr Hervey

Mr Hartley – Virginia’s father

The story

A matchmaking aunt

Belinda is the story of Belinda Portman and how she learns to depend on her own judgement and not the advice of others, particularly in making that all-important decision of who to marry.

Belinda’s aunt, Mrs Stanhope, has gained a reputation as a scheming matchmaker for successfully marrying off her other nieces. In her efforts to achieve a good match for Belinda, Mrs Stanhope has successfully ingratiated herself with Lady Delacour, a fashionable society hostess, who invites Belinda to go with her to London.

Lady Delacour

Belinda soon discovers that Lady Delacour’s dazzling public persona is a sham and that at home, she is miserable and continually at odds with her dissolute husband.

Lady Delacour’s most ardent admirer is Mr Hervey, a clever but rather arrogant young gentleman who wants people to think he does everything best. Belinda likes Mr Hervey, but won’t allow herself to fall in love with him because she fears he is too entangled with Lady Delacour to be free to form an attachment.

Mr Hervey at Lady Delacour's feet
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1850 version)

Belinda goes to a masquerade ball and, at Lady Delacour’s insistence, swaps costumes with her at the last minute. As a result, Mr Hervey mistakes her identity and talks openly in front of Belinda of her aunt’s reputation for matchmaking and condemns Belinda herself.

Lady Delacour’s History

Lady Delacour responds to Belinda’s distress by telling her that she is dying and sharing her sad story. As a beautiful heiress, she had been much courted and had fallen in love with a man named Henry Percival who loved her, but refused to overlook her faults and would not blindly flatter her. As a result, she had chosen to marry the admiring Lord Delacour instead who needed her money and whom she thought she could master.

Unfortunately Lady Delacour had managed to offend her husband’s manservant, Champfort, who told his master that everyone said that his wife ruled him. “I am not a man to be governed by a wife,” became his habitual reply to her demands.

Lord and Lady Delacour
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Through high living and gambling, Lord and Lady Delacour exceeded their income and argued perpetually about money.

Lady Delacour suffered the heartache of a stillborn son and then the death of her first daughter whom she struggled to feed herself, as was the fashion. Her second daughter, Helena, was put out to nurse and then sent to school and she had little to do with her.

Deprived of domestic felicity, the lonely Lady Delacour became intimate friends with the audacious Harriet Freke. In an attempt to provoke her husband’s jealousy, Lady Delacour flirted wildly with Colonel Lawless, but due to a prank of Harriet Freke’s making, the affair seemed more serious than it really was and Lord Delacour killed Lawless in a duel. Lady Delacour felt that Lawless’ blood was on her head.

Mrs Luttridge was loud in her defence of Lord Delacour and became Lady Delacour’s bitter rival. Mrs Luttridge canvassed for her husband in an election; Lady Delacour supported a cousin of Harriet Freke’s. Mrs Luttridge expressed a wish of being a man so that she could meet Lady Delacour in a duel. Encouraged by Harriet Freke, Lady Delacour issued a challenge. They met in men’s clothing, but Lady Delacour’s pistol recoiled and injured her breast. She refused to let anyone treat her out of fear of detection. As a result, the wound had got worse and, she believed, turned cancerous.

After ten years of friendship, Harriet Freke had broken off with Lady Delacour and gone over to Mrs Luttridge who had agreed to support Harriet’s husband in an election. Lord Delacour had most unfortunately pledged his vote for Mr Freke as a favour to Mrs Luttridge.

A dangerous rivalry

Lady Delacour is desperate to outshine Mrs Luttridge with her new equipage and persuades Mr Hervey to buy her a pair of horses that her husband has refused to let her have. Belinda lends her some money so she can pay Mr Hervey for the horses, but later discovers that she has used the money to pay for a new carriage instead.

Mrs Luttridge
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Mr Hervey asks Lady Delacour to make his peace with Belinda for the unfortunate words she overheard.

A dramatic rescue

Always determined to prove his superiority, Mr Hervey runs a race with his dissolute buddies, Sir Philip Baddeley and Mr Rochfort, and then dives into the Serpentine, despite not knowing how to swim. Mr Percival saves him from drowning while his friends look on. Mr Hervey is hurt by his erstwhile friends’ indifference to his plight and abandons their companionship for that of Mr Percival and his companion, the famous writer, Dr X—, whom he has met before.

Domestic bliss

Mr Hervey goes to dine with Mr Percival and finds his home a scene of perfect domesticity. He meets Lord Delacour’s sister, Margaret Delacour, and his daughter, Helena, who is staying with the Percivals.

Mr Hervey is falling in love with Belinda; Belinda is trying not to fall in love with Mr Hervey. Belinda encourages Lady Delacour to develop her relationship with her daughter, Helena. Mr Hervey intends to reform Lady Delacour by attaching her to Helena and Lady Anne Percival.

The Mysterious Boudoir

Lady Delacour is driven out in her new equipage, but in an effort to keep ahead of Mrs Luttridge’s carriage, her vehicle is overturned and she is hurt. She is carried up to her room but is terrified that her deformity will be detected so won’t admit to the pain she is in. Marriott refuses to let Lord Delacour enter his wife’s boudoir leading him to the false conclusion that his wife is hiding a lover in her boudoir. He then suggests, in Mr Hervey’s hearing, that it is Belinda’s lover in there instead.

Belinda insists that Lady Delacour sees a physician and she agrees to see Dr X—. Belinda shows him the boudoir and tells him about Lord Delacour’s misunderstanding and asks Dr X— to confirm her innocence to Mr Hervey.

Another attachment

Mr Hervey’s old friends are chagrined that he has cast them off and hearing rumours that he has a mistress, they manage to gain sight of the mysterious Virginia St Pierre.

When Belinda sees a lock of Virginia’s hair in Mr Hervey’s possession, she concludes that he has another attachment and becomes cold in her attitude towards him.

Hoping to better Mr Hervey, Sir Philip Baddeley proposes to Belinda, but she refuses him. In an effort to quash his rival’s chances, Sir Philip tells Lady Delacour and Belinda’s aunt about Mr Hervey’s longstanding attachment to Virginia St Pierre.

Belinda refuses Sir Philip's offer of marriage
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

The Macaw

Lady Delacour complains about Marriott’s noisy macaw and Belinda goes to a bird fancier to see if she can find a quieter bird to console Marriott. She meets Lady Anne Percival and Helena who are looking for a blue macaw for Margaret Delacour, so she gives them Marriott’s bird. Helena asks after her mother and offers to send a present of her goldfish which would not make any noise.

Lady Delacour is delighted with the goldfish and agrees to meet the sender. The meeting with her daughter is a success.

Lady Delacour is delighted with Helena
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Jealousy

Belinda visits an exhibition where a picture of Virginia St Pierre is on display. Sir Philip tells Lady Delacour that the picture is of Mr Hervey’s mistress. Meanwhile, Mr Hervey warns Belinda as a friend that it is being rumoured that Belinda would marry Lord Delacour after his wife’s death.

Belinda at the exhibition
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Lady Delacour talks of having the operation that would cure her, but is so afraid of her secret coming out that she plans to use a quack doctor despite Dr X—’s warnings. Belinda urges her to tell her husband, but Lady Delacour is madly jealous of Belinda’s influence with Lord Delacour and believes she has been betrayed.

Domestic Happiness

Belinda cannot cope with Lady Delacour’s mistrust and goes to stay with Lady Percival at Oakly Park. The contrast between the happiness of the Percivals and the misery of the Delacours is stark. She discovers the report about her and Lord Delacour is not widely known; it later transpires that it was a malicious rumour started by Lord Delacour’s jealous manservant Champfort and poured into the ears of Sir Philip.

A new suitor for Belinda

Belinda meets Mr Vincent, Mr Percival’s ward, a handsome and wealthy Creole (2) with a black servant named Juba. Mr Vincent falls in love with Belinda, but though she knows that Mr Hervey is lost to her, he is still too dear to her to be eclipsed by Mr Vincent. Lady Anne suggests that Belinda might grow to love Mr Vincent. Belinda eventually agrees to marry Mr Vincent; she loves him but is not 'in love' with him.

Reconciliation

Marriott arrives saying Lady Delacour is desperately ill and Belinda agrees to return to London with her. Encouraged by Belinda’s selfless example, Lady Delacour realises her husband truly loves her and reveals the secret of her condition. This is the first step in their reconciliation. Lord Delacour is touched by his wife’s confidence and stays at home to dine rather than going out and getting drunk.

Lord and Lady Delacour are reconciled
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Belinda persuades Lady Delacour to send for Helena who is at school. Helena succeeds in gaining her mother’s confidence and Lady Delacour tells her the truth about her illness and her forthcoming operation.

A Spectre

Lady Delacour goes to Twickenham to have the dreaded operation, believing that she is going to die because of a vision she has seen in the night. However, the vision proves to be Harriet Freke spying on her and when the surgeon goes to perform the operation, he finds that Lady Delacour has not got cancer after all.

Virginia’s bullfinch

Helena rescues an unusual bullfinch that can sing a particular tune. Reluctantly, Marriott responds to an advert for a missing bullfinch and takes the bird to a perfumer’s shop as requested. When the bird sings its song, it has a dramatic effect on a man in the shop who is desperate to know where he can find the lady who owns it. The bullfinch belongs to Virginia St Pierre and Marriott is left in no doubt that she is under the protection of Mr Hervey.

Virginia

Mr Hervey sends a letter to Lady Delacour revealing the whole of his connection with Virginia St Pierre. Virginia’s true name was Rachel, but Mr Hervey changed it to that of the heroine in a novel – Paul and Virginia by St Pierre – and he later had her painted in this role. Mr Hervey had happened upon the beautiful Rachel whilst riding in the New Forest where she was kept quite separate from the world by her grandmother. Mr Hervey was taken by her beauty and innocence and conceived the idea of bringing her up to be his wife.

Virginia St Pierre alias Rachel Hartley
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

After her grandmother’s death, he took a house in Windsor for her and a companion, Mrs Ormond, and it was here that Sir Philip had espied her. Virginia’s only possession from her humble beginnings was her bullfinch. Virginia struggled to learn much, but developed a great passion for novels. Mr Hervey visited often but his plans to marry her were kept secret.

After meeting Belinda, Mr Hervey had realised how inadequate Virginia would be as a wife. Unfortunately, Mrs Ormond was persuaded that Virginia loved Mr Hervey, and told Virginia of his plans to marry her.

Another reconciliation

By chance, Mr Moreton, a clergyman whom Mr Hervey has helped, comes across a man trying to find his daughter whose miniature he has. He tells Mr Hervey that he thinks the girl in the miniature looks like Virginia. Believing that the man might be Virginia’s father, who had abandoned Virginia’s mother many years before, Mr Hervey tries to find him and exhibits the picture of Virginia in hopes that it will attract him.

Mrs Ormond tells Mr Hervey that he has ruined Virginia’s reputation as people believe Virginia is his mistress. She confesses that she has told Virginia of Mr Hervey’s plan to marry her and Mr Hervey feels honour bound to offer for her.

Mr Hervey eventually finds Virginia’s father, Mr Hartley, and he is reconciled with his daughter.

Mr Hartley sees Virginia's portrait
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Mr Vincent’s weakness

Lady Delacour is concerned that Mr Vincent is visiting Mrs Luttridge’s House to play EO (3) and asks her husband to make inquiries. Having broken entirely with Mrs Luttridge since his reconciliation with his wife, Lord Delacour is unable to visit himself and asks for Mr Hervey’s help. Although Belinda is now lost to him, Mr Hervey is anxious to do her any service in his power and willingly agrees.

Mr Hervey discovers that Mr Vincent is playing EO and losing lots of money, but also gains evidence that the table is rigged. He lets Mr Vincent lose everything to scare him out of gambling, but then follows him and prevents him from committing suicide.

Mr Hervey tells Mr Vincent that Mrs Luttridge has been cheating and that he will be able to recoup Mr Vincent’s losses by threatening to expose her. Mr Vincent vows not to gamble again.

Mr Hervey saves Mr Vincent
from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Mr Vincent plans to confess all to Belinda, but then loses his nerve. Mr Percival asks Mr Vincent to repay a loan of £15,000, but Mr Vincent lost this at play before Mr Hervey intervened and he is too embarrassed to own the truth. He plans to borrow the sum from a moneylending Jew. Unfortunately, Juba discovers the Jew in Mr Vincent’s apartments and thinks he is a robber. The moneylender says he has come to lend not steal. Mr Vincent explains what has happened and Mr Percival agrees to tell Belinda. Belinda writes Mr Vincent a letter ending their engagement.

Happy ever after

Lady Delacour still wants Mr Hervey to marry Belinda and determines to discover whether Virginia really loves him before he irrevocably commits himself to her. She is aware that while living in the forest, Virginia had possessed for a while a miniature of a young man of which she was very fond.

Lady Delacour had discovered the man in the miniature quite by chance. He was the man who was seeking the owner of the singing bullfinch. He had traced the bird to Virginia and was distressed to discover that she was Mr Hervey’s mistress.

Lady Delacour eventually traced the man, Captain Sunderland, and convinced him that Virginia was not Mr Hervey's mistress. The captain had spied Virginia in the forest and fallen in love with her through a telescope! He planned to offer for her when he returned from the West Indies where he hoped to make his fortune. Lady Delacour persuaded Captain Sunderland to have his portrait painted in the character of Paul from the novel so she could discover if Virginia still felt anything for him.

Faced with the picture, Virginia faints. She admits to being in love with the man in the painting although she has never met him! What Mrs Ormond had believed was love was merely gratitude and Virginia is relieved when Mr Hervey tells her of his devotion to Belinda.

Mr Hartley arrives with Captain Sunderland who had once saved his life in the West Indies and in time, the captain and Virginia are married.

Mr Hervey declares his love for Belinda and she finally admits to loving him and they live happily ever after.

Belinda and Mr Hervey from  
Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (1896 version)

Notes

(1) From a note from the author at the beginning of the second edition of Belinda by Maria Edgeworth published in 1802.

(2) A Creole is a person born in the West Indies but of European descent.

(3) EO was a popular gambling game similar to Roulette.

Sources used:
Edgeworth, Maria, Belinda, various editions (published 1801, 1848, 1850, 1896)
Edgeworth, Maria, The Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth, ed by Augustus JC Hare (1895) Vol 1