The Man of the period -- Drinking habits -- Dandies -- Lord
Petersham -- A Dandy's diary -- Gaming -- Prize fighting --
Country Sports.
And what was the man of the period like? Well! there is no concealing
the fact that he was narrow-minded--because he had no opportunity
of mixing much with his other fellow creatures either abroad or
at home--war stopping the former, and means of communication the
latter, and so, the necessary rubbing off of his angles did not take
place. The Middle Class gentleman was not too well read. Latin, of
course, he knew, or had learnt. Perhaps a little Greek--his French
was very "Stratforde at y{e} Bowe," and German was to him "unknowe."
His English, too, was shaky. The Peninsular War over, the Officers
brought back with them a smattering of Spanish, the Guitar, and
the Cigar. Personally, he had plenty of Courage which found its
vent in the Army and Navy, and, in Civil life, in duelling and
boxing. As to duelling, it was so common that you can scarcely take
up a London Newspaper of the time without some "affair of honour"
being chronicled; and, as to boxing, every man learnt it, put his
teaching into practice, and talked it. It was, except pedestrianism,
the only athletic sport known. Rowing was not; of riding there was
plenty, with a good breed of horses fit to carry a man. Cricket was
played--but there was no football, nor cycling, if we except the
short-lived dandy horse.
They worked longer hours at their divers businesses than we do, but
they did far less work; they dined early, and had suppers, and, for
evening amusements there were the theatre, and the social meeting
at the Inn, where much Rum Punch and Brown Brandy was drunk, and
the affairs of the Nation duly discussed, among a select Coterie.
Those old boys could drink, too. A three-or four-bottle man, then
common, would now be a phenomenon--and, mind you, it was not Claret
or other light wines they drank--the war with France made that too
great a luxury; but it was the stronger wines of Portugal and Spain,
well fortified with brandy. I wonder how many died in "making their
heads," and whether it was always "the survival of the fittest"!
[Illustration:
No. 1. "Are you all charged, Gentlemen."
No. 2. "A song, Gentlemen, if you please."
No. 3. "Sing Old Rose, and burn the bellows."
No. 4. "I humbly move to throw the waiter out of the window, and
charge him in the bill!"]
They were of Convivial habits, and did not "join the ladies" after
dinner, or, if they did, they were slightly inebriate, and the
accompanying illustrations are no caricature of an advanced stage
of a _symposium_. No. 1 is, "Are you all charged, Gentlemen?" No. 2
is, "A Song, Gentlemen, if you please." No. 3 is, "Sing Old Rose and
burn the bellows."[36] No. 4 says, "I humbly move to throw the waiter
out of the window, and charge him in the bill!"
[Footnote 36: _Isaac Walton_ says, "Now let's go to an
honest alehouse where we may have a cup of good barley
wine, and sing 'Old Rose,' and all of us rejoice together."
And we get a presumed explanation of the Song in _The
British Apollo_ (1708-9).
"In good King Stephen's days, the Ram,
An ancient inn at Nottingham,
Was kept, as our wise father knows,
By a brisk female call'd _Old Rose_;
Many, like you, who hated thinking,
Or any other theme than drinking,
Met there, d'ye see, in sanguine hope
To kiss their landlady, and tope;
But one cross night, 'mongst twenty other,
The fire burnt not, without great pother,
Till _Rose_, at last, began to sing,
And the cold blades to dance and spring;
So, by their exercise and kisses,
They grew as warm as were their wishes;
When, scorning fire, the jolly fellows
Cry'd, '_Sing Old Rose, and burn the bellows_.'"]
Very little need be said about their dress, the illustrations
throughout the book show its different phases. The Regent, of course,
set the fashions, for tailoring, and building, were his hobbies; but
even he could not do anything against the dictum of George Bryan
Brummell. When he retired in poverty to Calais, in 1816, he left the
field entirely to the Regent. There were some who gained a nickname
from some eccentricity in costume as "Blue Hanger" (Lord Coleraine),
or "Pea-green Haynes"--but they were not many.
The principal variation in men's attire, at this period, was the
way in which they clothed their legs. Breeches and boots were now
eschewed by fashionable men, and their place was taken by the
pantaloon, made of some elastic stuff, generally "stockinette,"
fitting tightly to the leg, and after 1814 by the Cossack trouser:
an example of both being given in two pictures of Lord Petersham, a
distinguished leader of fashion, who married Miss Foote, the actress,
and afterwards became Earl of Harrington. Over the trousered picture
are these lines:--
"I'll prove these Cossack pantaloons
(To one that's not a Goose)
Are like two Continental towns
Called Too-long and Too-loose."
[Illustration: A Portrait (Lord Petersham). (_Published January 10,
1812, by H. Humphrey._)]
[Illustration: Lord Petersham. 1815.]
[Illustration: Dandy on Horseback. (_November 2, 1818._)]
[Illustration: A Dandy. (_December 8, 1818._)]
This was that Lord Petersham who never went out of doors till six
p.m., and whose horses, carriage, and harness, were all of the same
shade of brown. He had other foibles which are amusingly told by
Capt. Gronow. "The room into which we were ushered was more like
a shop than a gentleman's sitting room; all round the walls were
shelves, upon which were placed the canisters, containing Congou,
Pekoe, Souchong, Bohea, Gunpowder, Russian, and many other teas, all
the best of their kind; on the other side of the room were
beautiful jars, with names, in gilt letters, of innumerable kinds of
snuff, and all the necessary apparatus for moistening and mixing.
Lord Petersham's mixture is still well known to all tobacconists.
Other shelves, and many of the tables were covered with a great
number of magnificent snuff-boxes; for Lord Petersham had, perhaps,
the finest collection in England, and was supposed to have a fresh
box for every day in the year. I heard him, on the occasion of a
delightful old light blue Sèvres box he was using, being admired,
say, in his lisping way--'Yes, it is a nice summer box, but would not
do for winter wear.' In this museum there were also innumerable canes
of very great value. The Viscount was likewise a great Mæcenas among
the tailors, and a particular kind of great coat, when I was a young
man, was called a Petersham."
These trousers later on (see illustration, Nov., 1818) were worn,
instead of breeches and boots, on horseback, but this was only
affected by the "Dandy," a term which came into vogue two or three
years before this time, and which, according to Webster, is derived
from the French _dandin_, "a ninny, a silly fellow." The Dandy at
his toilet is of the same date, and here we see him in his evening
dress. The huge cocked hat is exaggerated, but it was the shape of
the _chapeau bras_, which folded flat, and was carried as we now
do a _Gibus_. The looking-glass, wash-stand, &c., are very meagre
according to our ideas, but much ornament was not lavished on bedroom
furniture.
Here is the Diary of a Dandy (Sept., 1818):--
"SATURDAY.--Rose at twelve, with a d----d headache. _Mem._ Not to
drink the _Regent's Punch_ after supper.--The green tea keeps one
awake.
"Breakfasted at one.--Read the _Morning Post_--the best Paper after
all--always full of _wit_, _fine writing_, and _good_ news.
"Sent for the tailor and staymaker--ordered a morning _demi surtout_
of the last Parisian cut, with the collar _à la Guillotine_, to show
the neck behind--a pair of _Petersham Pantaloons_, with striped
flounces at bottom--and a pair of _Cumberland corsets_ with a
whale-bone back.--_A caution to the unwary._ The last pair gave way
in stooping to pick up Lady B.'s glove.--The Duke of C----e vulgar
enough to laugh, and asked me in the _sea slang_, if I had not
_missed stays in tacking_. Find this is an old joke stolen from the
_Fudge Family_.--Query. Who is this Tom Brown? Not known at _Long's_
or the _Clarendon_.
"Three o'clock.--Drove out in the _Dennet_--took a few turns in Pall
Mall, St. James's Street, and Piccadilly.--Got out at Grange's--was
told the thermometer in the _ice cellar_ was at 80. _Prodigious!_ Had
three glasses of _pine_ and one of _Curaçoa_--the _Prince's Fancy_,
as P---- calls it.--P. is _a wag in his way_.
"Five to seven. Dressed for the evening--dined at half-past eight,
'nobody with me but myself,' as the old Duke of Cumberland said--a
neat dinner, in _Long's best style_, viz., A tureen of turtle, a
small turbot, a dish of Carlton House Cutlets.--_Remove_--a turkey
poult, and an apricot tart.--_Dessert_--Pine apple and brandy
cherries.
"Drank two tumblers of the Regent's Punch, iced, and a pint of
Madeira.--Went to the Opera in high spirits--just over--forgot the
curtain drops on Saturdays before twelve.--_Mem._ To dine at seven on
Saturdays.
"Supped at the Clarendon with the _Dandy Club_--cold
collation--played a few rounds of Chicken Hazard, and went to bed
quite cool.
"SUNDAY. Breakfasted at three--ordered the _Tilbury_--took a round
of _Rotten Row_, and the _Squeeze_, in Hyde Park--cursedly annoyed
with dust in all directions--dined soberly with P----m and went to
the Marchioness of S----y's _Conversatione_ in the evening--dull but
genteel--P. calls it the _Sunday School_.
"N.B. P----m, who is curious in his snuff as well as in his snuff
boxes, has invented a new _mixture_, Wellington's and Blücher's,
which he has named, in honour of the meeting of the two heroes, after
the battle of Waterloo--_La belle Alliance_--a good hit--_not to be
sneezed at_."
"A DANDY
I do remember me in Hertford streets
Walking at noon, I met an exquisite,
A thing, whose neck in Oriental tie,
Where not a crease is seen, so stiff withal
The powers of starch had rendered it, tho' made
Of finest muslin, that to my wondering gaze,
(Unlike the ease of Nature's masterpiece),
It seem'd as 'twere a mere automaton;
And then its shape, so all unlike a man,
So tightly laced that 'twas self-evident
He walk'd in pain, if walking 't could be call'd,
Since from the earth to raise his languid foot,
It seem'd a labour too Herculean;
But, still, thus mincingly, he reached the Bell--
There stopped. I, being anxious to o'erhear
The sounds this creature, nicknam'd man, would utter,
Entered the room apologizing to it;
No answer I receiv'd, save a low murmur,
For too fatiguing 'twas to articulate.
Finding it useless farther to intrude,
I asked the waiter who and whence he was?
'One of our College[37] Dandies,' he replied.
No longer wondering, straight I left the Inn."
[Footnote 37: The East India College.]
Naturally, the tight-fitting pantaloon required a well-made leg, so
those gentlemen to whom Nature had not been bountiful, used false
calves, and thus passed muster. They took snuff in quantities, but
very rarely smoked. When Lord Petersham's Collection of Snuff was
sold, it took one of the partners in the firm of Fribourg and Treyer,
of the Haymarket, and two assistants three days to weigh it--and the
same firm, when they bought George IV.'s collection, at his death,
set a room apart, entirely for its sale.
They gambled terribly, not perhaps as much as now, but still large
sums were won, and lost, on the cast of a die. March 28, 1811: "The
brother of a Noble Marquis, is said to have lately won at _hazard_
upwards of £30,000, all in one night!" April 3, 1811: "A young
gentleman of family and fortune lost £7,000 on Sunday Morning at
a gaming house in the neighbourhood of Pall Mall." But, although
the Turf was an Institution of the day, there was but very little
betting, compared to what goes on in that gigantic Cancer which so
grievously afflicts England in the present day. Nor had they such a
stupendous gamble as our Stock Exchange. There was plenty of betting
on Cock fighting, which was a very fashionable amusement, even
patronized by our Imperial Guest, the Grand Duke Nicholas, who, on
February 10, 1817, accompanied by the Duke of Devonshire, the Russian
Ambassador, Sir William Congreve, Baron Nichola, General Kutusoff,
&c., &c., went to the Cockpit and saw five Cock fights. "His Imperial
Highness remained an hour and a half, and appeared much amused, never
having seen Cock fighting before."
But then he was here to study our manners and customs, and even went
to a prize fight. February 14, 1817: "An Imperial Boxing Match, to
use the general term of the ring, took place yesterday at Coombe
Warren, for a subscription purse of twenty guineas, between Croxey
the Sailor, a _bustling_ second rater, and a candidate for _milling_
notoriety.... The Grand Duke Nicholas desirous of viewing the British
character throughout, signified his wish to see the method of English
boxing.... His Imperial Highness arrived at the ring in a carriage
and four, at one o'clock, accompanied by his own suite, and some
English Noblemen, admirers of gymnastics. A waggon was reserved for
the Grand Duke's reception, and he ascended it with a hearty laugh.
Under it were placed the bull dogs and _bull hankers_ for the last
sports of the day. Bill Gibbons introduced his trusty bitch to the
Patricians in the waggon as the favourite for the _Bull_ prize."
The fight, or rather the fights, for there were two of them, took
place, but they were stigmatized as very poor and tame affairs. "The
Bull was the next object of attack, for a silver collar, and all
the fancy buffers the town could produce were let go from the Royal
waggon, which was decorated with purple flags. Gibbons' fancy dog was
lamed early, but the best of the fun was, after the bull had broken
a horn, he began to snort up on end, and went and got loose. Helter
skelter was the consequence, and the bull, as regardless of men as
dogs, made play through the ground, reclining his head, and tossing
mortals before him, until he got clear off, upsetting carts, &c.,
that impeded his way. The fun concluded just before dark, and the
whole sport went off with _éclat_."
[Illustration: Playing at Bowls and Quoits.]
_Apropos_ of prize fighting the last sentence in the following
paragraph is worthy of note. Feb. 28, 1817: "Carter next asked
to be backed to fight any man, when Cribb mounted the table, and
challenged to fight any thing in being, from _three_ to _twelve_
hundred, observing he had fought so often that he should not again
prostitute his talent for a trifle. Carter said he thought the
Carlisle people would back him for £300, and he would ask them. After
devouring about twenty dozen of wine, the lads departed _to spend the
evening_, and amuse themselves at the expense of lamp contractors and
watchmen's rattles."
Although we may think all this very brutal, yet, with the exception
of the bull baiting, which was only made illegal in 1835, I fancy
that things go on very much now, as they did then, only they are done
more quietly. In the country, men had their hunting, shooting, and
fishing to amuse them, and they were as keen then as in our time.
True, they did not rent deer forests in Scotland, at fabulous prices,
nor did they take salmon rivers in Norway; but although they did
not enjoy breechloaders, with spare gun ready loaded handed as soon
as the other is discharged, and though they were innocent of the
cruel slaughter of a _battue_, yet they had good sport both in wood
and stubble, and the old flint gun, if held straight, would make a
respectable bag to carry home. Then they played cricket, but they did
not armour themselves, because there was no necessity for so doing,
the ball then being bowled and not hurled as if from a cannon. Then
for the quieter and middle-aged there were the healthy out-door games
of bowls or quoits.
Among the younger men the manly sports of wrestling, quarter-staff,
and back-sword, had not died out, but then they had not the advantage
that we have of football and Rugby rules.