In the year 1814, my battalion of the Guards was once more in its old
quarters in Portman Street barracks, enjoying the fame of our Spanish
campaign. Good society at the period to which I refer was, to use a
familiar expression, wonderfully "select." At the present time one can
hardly conceive the importance which was attached to getting admission
to Almack's, the seventh heaven of the fashionable world. Of the three
hundred officers of the Foot Guards, not more than half a dozen were
honoured with vouchers of admission to this exclusive temple of the
beau monde; the gates of which were guarded by lady patronesses, whose
smiles or frowns consigned men and women to happiness or despair. These
lady patronesses were the Ladies Castlereagh, Jersey, Cowper, and
Sefton, Mrs. Drummond Burrell, now Lady Willoughby, the Princess
Esterhazy, and the Countess Lieven.
The most popular amongst these grandes dames was unquestionably Lady
Cowper, now Lady Palmerston. Lady Jersey's bearing, on the contrary,
was that of a theatrical tragedy queen; and whilst attempting the
sublime, she frequently made herself simply ridiculous, being
inconceivably rude, and in her manner often ill-bred. Lady Sefton was
kind and amiable, Madame de Lieven haughty and exclusive, Princess
Esterhazy was a bon enfant, Lady Castlereagh and Mrs. Burrell de tres
grandes dames.
Many diplomatic arts, much finesse, and a host of intrigues, were set
in motion to get an invitation to Almack's. Very often persons whose
rank and fortunes entitled them to the entree anywhere, were excluded
by the cliqueism of the lady patronesses; for the female government of
Almack's was a pure despotism, and subject to all the caprices of
despotic rule: it is needless to add that, like every other despotism,
it was not innocent of abuses. The fair ladies who ruled supreme over
this little dancing and gossiping world, issued a solemn proclamation
that no gentleman should appear at the assemblies without being dressed
in knee-breeches, white cravat, and chapeau bras. On one occasion, the
Duke of Wellington was about to ascend the staircase of the ball-room,
dressed in black trousers, when the vigilant Mr. Willis, the guardian
of the establishment, stepped forward and said, "Your Grace cannot be
admitted in trousers," whereupon the Duke, who had a great respect for
orders and regulations, quietly walked away.
In 1814, the dances at Almack's were Scotch reels and the old English
country-dance; and the orchestra, being from Edinburgh, was conducted
by the then celebrated Neil Gow. It was not until 1815 that Lady
Jersey introduced from Paris the favourite quadrille, which has so long
remained popular. I recollect the persons who formed the very first
quadrille that was ever danced at Almack's: they were Lady Jersey, Lady
Harriet Butler, Lady Susan Ryder, and Miss Montgomery; the men being
the Count St. Aldegonde, Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Montague, and Charles
Standish. The "mazy waltz" was also brought to us about this time; but
there were comparatively few who at first ventured to whirl round the
salons of Almack's; in course of time Lord Palmerston might, however,
have been seen describing an infinite number of circles with Madame de
Lieven. Baron de Neumann was frequently seen perpetually turning with
the Princess Esterhazy; and, in course of time, the waltzing mania,
having turned the heads of society generally, descended to their feet,
and the waltz was practised in the morning in certain noble mansions in
London with unparalleled assiduity.
The dandies of society were Beau Brummell (of whom I shall have to say
something on another occasion), the Duke of Argyle, the Lords
Worcester, Alvanley, and Foley, Henry Pierrepoint, John Mills,
Bradshaw, Henry de Ros, Charles Standish, Edward Montagu, Hervey Aston,
Dan Mackinnon, George Dawson Damer, Lloyd (commonly known as Rufus
Lloyd), and others who have escaped my memory. They were great
frequenters of White's Club, in St. James's Street, where, in the
famous bay window, they mustered in force.
Drinking and play were more universally indulged in then than at the
present time, and many men still living must remember the couple of
bottles of port at least which accompanied his dinner in those days.
Indeed, female society amongst the upper classes was most notoriously
neglected; except, perhaps, by romantic foreigners, who were the heroes
of many at fashionable adventure that fed the clubs with ever
acceptable scandal. How could it be otherwise, when husbands spent
their days in the hunting-field, or were entirely occupied with
politics, and always away from home during the day; whilst the
dinner-party, commencing at seven or eight, frequently did not break up
before one in the morning. There were then four-, and even five-bottle
men; and the only thing that saved them was drinking very slowly, and
out of very small glasses. The learned head of the law, Lord Eldon, and
his brother, Lord Stowell, used to say that they had drunk more bad
port than any two men in England; indeed, the former was rather apt to
be overtaken, and to speak occasionally somewhat thicker than natural,
after long and heavy potations. The late Lords Panmure, Dufferin, and
Blayney, wonderful to relate, were six-bottle men at this time; and I
really think that if the good society of 1815 could appear before their
more moderate descendants in the state they were generally reduced to
after dinner, the moderns would pronounce their ancestors fit for
nothing but bed.