In the grandeur of Kensington Palace, the royal plates were adorned with delicacies that were considered worthy of a king. From potted turtles to puffins, the court enjoyed an array of exotic dishes imported from around the world. China plates, which were considered special, were used to serve certain dishes, adding an elegant touch to the table. These plates, along with the meticulous arrangement of the dishes, provided a glimpse into the opulence and sophistication of royal dining.
One of the most valuable sources of information about daily life at Kensington Palace is a notebook kept by James Daniel, the head cook. Dan Snow remarks at how rare it is to have a surviving artefact such as this
it’s an extraordinary record because it’s his personal notebook
This notebook offers insights into the workings of the kitchen and the experimentation that took place. It includes little marginal notes where someone has whispered suggestions to Daniel, such as adding a certain dish to the royal table. Snow remarks at how some of today’s familiar favourites were also popular in the 18th Century
we’ve got literally macaroni and cheese, way back in 1736
And also how dishes would be transported and taught all around the world
we also have a German dish, we haven’t really worked it out (what it is), but the King and Queen (born in Hanover) have taught this English chef how to cook it
These notes give us a rare glimpse into the creativity and decision-making process behind the meals served at the palace.
Behind the scenes with Dan Snow and the History Hit production team
Image Credit: History Hit
As important guests were ushered into the royal presence, they would ascend the grand staircase at Kensington Palace. At the top of the staircase, they would enter an intimidating room dominated by a royal canopy and the throne. This room served as a reminder that the servants were not just responsible for the practical aspects of running the palace, but also for creating formal situations where the king could receive his subjects and listen to their requests and petitions.
During the Georgian era, the power of the monarch had been curtailed by parliament. However, the opportunity to vie for the king’s attention at court was still highly prized, both at home and abroad. Dan Snow comments
Servants worked relentlessly behind the scenes, to facilitate the smooth running of diplomatic visits.
One notable meeting that took place at Kensington Palace was between a Cherokee chieftain named Tomochichi and King George II in 1734. This encounter was a crucial early meeting between a British monarch and a delegation of Cherokee Indians, symbolizing continued peace between the two parties.
The British had just established the colony of Georgia in America, pretty much on Cherokee land…We hear from accounts the Cherokees face was painted in black and red, and he presented George II with sticks with feathers on them, a symbol of peace.
It’s these kinds of meetings that remind us that the servants, the people who don’t make the headlines, facilitated meetings of huge political importance. Allowing Kensington Palace to remain a centre of power.
Kensington Palace was not only a political and social centre but also a family home. The birth and upbringing of healthy children were of utmost importance, especially in the early 19th century when the race was on to find an appropriate royal wife for the surviving sons. In 1819, a healthy baby girl named Victoria was born at Kensington Palace, bringing great success to the project of securing a legitimate heir to the British throne. Victoria would go on to become Queen Empress, highlighting the significance of the role played by the servants in birthing and raising royal children.
Mishka Sinha showing Dan Snow Katherine Elliot’s portrait.
Image Credit: History Hit
Taking care of and nourishing royal babies was a task entrusted to the most reliable servants. Wet nurses, such as Katherine Elliot (pictured above), played a crucial role in breastfeeding and caring for the young princes and princesses. It was customary for royal and aristocratic women to employ wet nurses,
It was mainly aristocratic women and wealthy women who did it (employed a wet nurse)
Mishka Sinha tells Dan Snow, as it allowed them to perform other duties and maintain their social status.
But, Sinha then goes on to explain that the role of wet nurse’s was also due to women’s fashion at the time.
because then women wouldn’t have to adjust their garments in order to be able to breastfeed
Wet nurses were well-paid for their services, receiving upto £500 in the first year and continued payments for the rest of their lives. Despite the separation from their families and the strict standards of behaviour imposed on them, wet nurses were highly respected and held in high regard within the royal household.
The servants at Kensington Palace came from a wide range of backgrounds and played diverse roles in the functioning of the court. From the keepers of the ice and snow to the seamstresses who stitched elaborate court dresses, each servant had their own unique contribution to the palace. Through the examination of everyday items and portraits, we can gain a deeper understanding of the lives of these individuals and the hierarchies and inequalities they experienced within the palace.
Kensington Palace is not just a symbol of royal power and grandeur, but also a place where countless servants worked tirelessly to ensure the smooth running of the court. From the extravagant feasts to the care of royal babies, these servants played vital roles in various aspects of royal life. By exploring their stories and shedding light on their lives, we can gain a more comprehensive and vivid picture of the history of Kensington Palace.
You can watch Kensington Palace: Untold Lives now on History Hit
]]>The year 2023 holds additional significance with the 75th anniversary of the NHS and the arrival of the HMT Empire Windrush in Britain – both of which were commemorated during Charles’ birthday celebrations, along with the launch of a Coronation Food Project aimed at reducing food waste, and the renaming of The Prince’s Trust to The King’s Trust. A special coin from The Royal Mint, paying tribute to Charles’ environmental advocacy, was also produced for the occasion.
Charles hosted a private birthday party in the evening of his actual birthday on 14 November at Clarence House with immediate family and close friends.
However, King Charles had actually already officially celebrated his birthday earlier in 2023, back on 17 June, which was marked by the first Trooping the Colour (the King’s Birthday Parade) of his reign – the annual military spectacle from Horse Guards in London. So why do British monarchs get to celebrate twice while the rest of us only celebrate once?
The tradition of British monarchs celebrating two birthdays is a unique and longstanding practice, dating back to the 18th century. King George II, who reigned from 1727 to 1760, is credited with starting this practice.
Born on 9 November, George II’s actual birthday fell during a chilly and unpredictable time of the year. With a November birthday being too cold for a celebratory parade, and to ensure that his subjects could partake in outdoor festivities and celebrations, in 1748 King George II tied his birthday celebrations in with the annual Trooping the Colour summer military parade in the warmer month of June.
Portrait of King George II, by Thomas Hudson
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / National Portrait Gallery / Public Domain
Thus, the concept of the ‘official’ birthday was born. The monarch’s actual birthday continued to be observed, often marked by private family celebrations and religious ceremonies. However, the public spectacle, with its grand parades, public festivities and ceremonial events, was shifted to the more favourable weather of June.
Several factors contributed to the establishment of the dual birthday celebrations. Firstly, the ever-changing British weather, known for its unpredictability and often inclement conditions, played a pivotal role. The prospect of hosting outdoor events and parades in November, with its potential for rain and cold temperatures, was not conducive to the grand scale of celebrations befitting a monarch. The decision to move the official celebrations to June allowed for more comfortable and enjoyable public festivities.
Secondly, the June celebration provided an opportunity for the monarchy to foster a sense of unity and loyalty among the public. The grandeur of the events, including military parades and public displays of patriotism, served to strengthen the connection between the monarch and the people. This sense of shared celebration became a unifying force, especially during times when the nation faced internal or external challenges.
The tradition of celebrating two birthdays continued beyond the reign of King George II, becoming a custom embraced by subsequent monarchs. It evolved with the changing times, adapting to the needs and preferences of each reigning sovereign.
Edward VII (r. 1901-1910) also had a November birthday, and it was during his reign that the summer ‘official’ birthday celebrations were standardised, with the month of June becoming their established month. It remains so to this day. It was also under Edward VII that the inspection of the troops by the monarch became part of the celebration. Trooping the Colour now typically takes place every year on the second Saturday in June.
As the British Empire expanded, the dual birthday celebrations took on a global significance. Colonies and territories around the world joined in the festivities, further reinforcing the connection between the monarch and the far-reaching corners of the empire. The celebrations became not only a symbol of loyalty but also an expression of the monarchy’s influence on a global scale.
Trooping the Colour, Horse Guards Parade, London, June 2013.
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / Corporal Paul Shaw / MOD / OGL v1.0
While the weather is no longer a primary concern in the age of advanced logistics and indoor events, as the British monarchy continues to try and adapt to changing times, the historical tradition of its dual birthday celebrations remains a symbol of continuity and tradition.
From its humble beginnings with King George II to its present-day manifestation with King Charles III, the tradition of official birthday celebrations in June has evolved into a grand showcase of British pageantry, and is a renowned part of the British monarchy’s calendar.
The Trooping the Colour ceremony, a highlight of the official birthday celebrations for the last 260 years, involves an impressive military parade, the Trooping the Colour ceremony, and a balcony appearance by the royal family for the RAF fly-past. This event draws thousands of spectators and is broadcast globally, emphasising the enduring popularity and importance of the dual birthday celebrations.
However, when Prince William inherits the throne, his birthday on 21 June will naturally coincide with the annual Trooping the Colour. This makes it possible that as monarch, William may just celebrate the one birthday – like the rest of us!
]]>But was that famous moment really when the game was invented? Here we take a look at the evolution of the sport, from its earliest versions, to the global phenomenon it is today.
Rugby’s origins can actually be traced back over 2,000 years to the Roman game of harpastum, derived from the Greek word ‘seize’, which involved handling a ball. This game may have been played during the Roman occupation of Britain in the 1st century BC.
Although codified at Rugby School, throughout medieval Europe and beyond, various forms of traditional football games with ball handling and scrummaging formations were played. Different regions had their own variations, including New Zealand’s Ki-o-rahi, Australia’s marn grook, Central Italy’s Calcio Fiorentino, and Japan’s kemari among others.
Main: “Football” match in Piazza Santa Maria Novella in Florence, between 1523 and 1605 by Stradanus, based on a design by Giorgio Vasari. Inset: “Harpastum”, a form of ball game played in the Roman Empire, circa 100 BC – 400 AD
Image Credit: Main: Wikimedia Commons / Stradanus / Giorgio Vasari / Public Domain. Inset: Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
Various early ball games were played during the Middle Ages (5th to 16th century). In England during the 14th and 15th centuries, documents record young men leaving work early to compete for their village or town in football games, which could be fairly violent. Shrove Tuesday football matches in particular became annual traditions, and there were many regional variations, often taking place over a wide area, across towns, villages, fields, and streams.
These local games continued well into the 19th century until football for the common man was gradually suppressed, notably by the 1835 Highways Act which forbade the playing of football on highways and public land. However, the sport did find a home in English public schools, where it was modified into two main forms: a dribbling game primarily played with the feet (promoted at Eton and Harrow), and a handling game (favoured by Rugby, Marlborough, and Cheltenham).
A ‘Foot Ball’ game between Thames and Townsend clubs, played at Kingston-upon-Thames, London, Shrove Tuesday, 24 February 1846
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
The roots of modern rugby can be traced to Rugby School in Warwickshire, England. In 1749, the boy’s school moved from the town centre to a new 8 acre site on the edge of the town known as the Close, providing more space for the boys to exercise.
The football played there between 1749-1823 had few rules. Although touchlines had been introduced to demarcate the playing area, the game was still fairly hectic, with teams often consisting of around 200 boys. The ball could be handled, but running with the ball was not allowed; progress towards the opposition’s goal was made by kicking.
While there is some debate and legend surrounding the exact moment and individual responsible for the game’s inception, the story of William Webb Ellis is perhaps the most enduring. According to legend, in autumn 1823, a young William Webb Ellis disregarded the established rules of football and, during a game on the Close, picked up the ball and ran with it.
According to the rules of the day, the opposing team could only advance to the spot where the ball had been caught, and Ellis should have moved backwards to give himself enough room to either kick the ball up the field or place it for a kick at goal. Instead, Ellis’ impulsive act is said to have laid the foundation for the game of rugby as we know it today.
However, the veracity of this tale is debated. While it is known that Webb Ellis was a student at Rugby School at the time, there is no direct evidence aside from a citation by the Old Rugbeian Society in an 1897 report on rugby’s origins by Matthew Bloxam. Nevertheless, the symbolism of Webb Ellis’s actions has persisted, and he remains an iconic figure in the sport, with the Rugby World Cup trophy named after him.
Left: Webb-Ellis carries the ball during a school football match played in 1823. Right: The only known contemporary image of Webb Ellis, published in the Illustrated London News, 29 April 1854.
Image Credit: Left: Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain. Right: Wikimedia Commons / The Illustrated London News (issue 24, page 400) / Public Domain
Rugby’s lack of standardised rules resulted in a variety of playing styles, and a somewhat chaotic playing field.
Rugby School, which gave its name to the sport, played a pivotal role in rugby’s development. Encouraged by Rugby School’s influential headmaster Thomas Arnold (headmaster from 1828-1842), many pupils from this time were instrumental in the game’s expansion. By 1841, the rules and fame of ‘rugby’ had spread fast as Rugby School’s pupils moved on to university, (mostly to Oxford and Cambridge), prompting a need for standardisation.
In 1845, the first rugby rules – the ‘Cambridge Rules’ – were established by members of Cambridge University. These introduced the concept of the ‘scrummage’ (the precursor to the modern scrum), and prohibited handling the ball forward, shaping ‘Rugby Union’. These laid the groundwork for the Rugby School rules established in 1845, which played a significant role in shaping the modern sport.
By 1863, boarding schools and clubs had developed further rule sets. Increasingly, rugby was seen as a sport of British imperial ‘manliness’, associated with the education of young gentlemen in public schools and universities.
After graduation, many young men wanted to continue playing. Following the formation of the first football clubs in the mid-19th century, rugby gradually became institutionalised. Blackheath and the Edinburgh Academicals were some of the first rugby clubs to form in 1858, and club matches began in England when Blackheath played Richmond in 1863.
In 1863, representatives of leading football clubs met to attempt to establish a common set of rules, but disputes arose over issues like handling the ball and ‘hacking’ (a tactic of tripping opponents and kicking their shins). Both were allowed under rugby’s rules but prohibited in other forms of football.
Advocates for rugby, led by F.W. Campbell of Blackheath, staunchly defended hacking, considering it character-building and its abolition ‘unmanly’. Consequently, rugby did not adopt the rules established for the newly formed Football Association (FA), leaving rugby outside the FA’s jurisdiction. (Hacking was later abolished during the late 1860s).
However, the death of a player in a practice match in 1871 prompted members of leading rugby clubs to organise an official meeting. That same year, Rugby saw its first international match when Scotland faced England in Edinburgh, resulting in victory for Scotland. This historic game marked the beginning of international rugby and, combined with the official rugby club meeting, led to the formation of the Rugby Football Union (RFU).
(Hacking remained a part of the game at Rugby School, causing the school to delay its entry into the RFU until 1890.)
The “First international”, Scotland v England in Edinburgh, 28 March 1871
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / Public Domain
The first official university match was played in 1872, and graduates from these universities introduced rugby to other British schools. Former pupils, ‘Old Rugbeians’, who had joined the army officer class helped expand the game internationally. By 1886, the International Rugby Board (now ‘World Rugby’) was established, and rugby began to gain popularity among middle and working-class men.
As rugby became more standardised, it became renowned for strict adherence to the rules and the spirit of the game, with a strong emphasis on discipline, self-control, mutual respect, and fair play. By the late 19th century, rugby, along with cricket, was seen as a sport that cultivated the ‘civilised’ manly behaviour of the elite, instilling values of unselfishness, fearlessness, teamwork, and self-control.
In 1895, a significant split occurred in rugby when clubs in Northern England formed the Northern Rugby Football Union (NRFU). This stemmed from a dispute over player compensation and working-class participation. The NRFU allowed player payments, which were prohibited by the Rugby Football Union (RFU), rugby union’s governing body.
The NRFU’s establishment led to the creation of Rugby League in 1922. This introduced distinct rules, including a six-tackle rule and a focus on speed and agility. Rugby League gained popularity in England’s northern regions and parts of Australia, while Rugby Union continued to dominate in the south and expanded globally.
The division between Rugby Union and Rugby League persisted for decades, with each developing its own distinct culture, traditions, and following. It was only in the late 20th century that Rugby League began to regain ground, especially in Australia and New Zealand.
Over the years, more nations embraced rugby, leading to the establishment of international competitions like the Six Nations and the Rugby Championship. In 1900, Rugby Union became an Olympic sport, and by 1908, three major Southern Hemisphere nations – New Zealand, Australia and South Africa – played international matches against Northern Hemisphere nations.
While rugby was later dropped from the Olympics in 1924, the inaugural Rugby World Cup was held in 1987. Additionally, Rugby Sevens (played with smaller teams in matches lasting 14 minutes) has been featured in the Olympics since the 2016 Rio Olympic Games.
The interior of Twickenham Stadium in 2012, England’s home stadium
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons / Photo by DAVID ILIFF. / License: CC BY-SA 3.0
In the late 20th century, commercialism and television’s growing influence led to the professionalisation of rugby, allowing players to earn a living from the sport, and raising its standards and global appeal. While historically a sport for men (despite women’s games being played as early as the 1880s), Rugby Union has made progress in promoting women’s rugby, with the Women’s Rugby World Cup, beginning in 1991, instrumental in advancing the women’s game.
Rugby continues to evolve, with new nations emerging as competitive forces on the international stage. Japan’s impressive performance in the 2019 Rugby World Cup generated interest in Asia, contributing to rugby’s fast-growing global reach. However, concerns over player welfare, particularly regarding concussion management, have prompted changes in the laws of the game once more, highlighting rugby’s ongoing evolution.
]]>In addition, his writing in the Scots dialect helped preserve and promote the Scottish language. Whether you’re a fan of Burns’ poetry or simply enjoy singing his famous composition ‘Auld Lang Syne’ on New Year’s Eve, there’s no denying the extraordinary impact that Burns has had upon the literary world. Today, he is remembered annually on 25 January through the customary eating of ‘haggis, neeps and tatties’ (haggis, turnips and potatoes), as well as the recitation of some of his most famous works.
Here are 10 facts about Scotland’s beloved national poet, Robert (‘Rabbie’) Burns.
Burns was the eldest of seven children born to self-educated tenant farmer William Burnes and Agnes Broun. He was born in a house built by his father, which is now the Burns Cottage Museum, and lived there until he was seven. His childhood was characterised by moving from farm to farm, where the family lived in poverty.
Though a labourer, Burns received a rudimentary education from his father in reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, history and religion, though he spent some time at parish schools in between harvest season.
By the age of 15, Burns was a principal agricultural labourer. During the harvest of 1774, he was assisted by Nelly Kilpatrick, who is thought to be his first romantic interest and muse. She inspired his first attempt at poetry, O, Once I Lov’d A Bonnie Lass. A year later, he went to finish his education with a tutor at Kirkoswald where he met Peggy Thompson, for whom he penned the poems Now Westlin’ Winds and I Dream’d I Lay.
Robert Burns by Alexander Nasmyth
Image Credit: Alexander Nasmyth, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Burns was initiated into the Masonic lodge at St David, Tarbolton, in 1781, aged 22. The fraternal organisation, which is known for its secrecy and ritual, influenced some of his later poetry and songs, such as those that appeared in a commonplace book in 1783.
Burns is also remembered for his eventful romantic life. His first child was born in 1785 to his mother’s servant, Elizabeth Paton, while he was simultaneously embarking on a relationship with Jean Armour, the daughter of a stonemason. Armour became pregnant with twins in 1786. He signed a paper attesting his marriage to Jean, but her father shunned him.
In spite of this, Armour and Burns were married in 1788, and she and Burns went on to have nine children in total, three of whom survived infancy. Burns had extra-marital relationships, however, and had two further children via Ann Park and Janet ‘Jennie’ Clow.
Burns was a committed anti-establishment figure, and his works often reflected his views. He advocated for the rights of the working class and was a Radicalist (an early form of left-wing liberalism), as expressed covertly through Scots Wha Hae. He was also known for his commentary on patriotism, anticlericalism, class inequalities, gender, religion, Scottish cultural identity, poverty, sexuality and the benefits of socialising through carousing, drinking Scotch whiskey, and so on.
As a result of his views, he became the ‘people’s poet’ of Imperial Russia, where his work was translated extensively. The USSR honoured him with a commemorative stamp in 1956, and he remains popular in Russia today.
In addition to writing in the Scots dialect, Burns worked to collect and preserve Scottish folk songs, sometimes revising, expanding and adapting them for works such as The Merry Muses of Caledonia. Many of his most famous poems are songs with the music based upon older traditional songs. Auld Lang Syne, for instance, is set to the original melody of Can Ye Labour Lea, while A Red, Red Rose is set to the tune of Major Graham.
Classified as a proto-Romantic poet, Burns’ work significantly inspired the Romantic movement in Scotland and England, since it heavily celebrated and drew upon nature as a source of inspiration. He particularly inspired the famed poets William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Percy Bysshe Shelley, and later Hugh MacDiarmid. Both during his life and after his death, the Edinburgh literati worked to sentimentalise Burns, calling him a ‘heaven-taught ploughman’.
More broadly, he was beloved by the Scottish people, and after his death in 1736, his funeral procession in Dumfries was attended by thousands of people.
The strong emotional highs and lows that characterise Burns’ poems have led to some suggesting that he suffered from manic depression, a hypothesis which has been supported by analysis of various samples of his handwriting. Indeed, Burns himself referred to suffering from episodes of what he called ‘blue devilism’.
Engraved version of the Alexander Nasmyth 1787 portrait
Image Credit: Alexander Nasmyth, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Though Burns died at just 37 from rheumatic fever, his five surviving children of twelve mean that, as of 2019, he has over 900 living descendants. The most famous of these is American fashion designer Tommy Hilfiger, who is his great, great, great nephew.
Scotland’s Bard has been commemorated in many ways over the years, in ways that have been both conventional – he appears on the Scottish £5 note – and surprising. For instance, in 2009, he became the first person to appear on a commemorative Coca-Cola bottle. He is also remembered for the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum in Alloway, Ayrshire, which offers visitors a glimpse into his life.
]]>Prince Augustus Frederick himself was a rebellious character. The sixth son and ninth child of King George III and his queen consort, Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, he was the only of his father’s sons who did not pursue a career in the army or navy. Instead, he was known for his liberal views such as the abolition of the slave trade, his multiple illegitimate marriages and for his fascination with literature, science and religion.
Here’s a break down of Prince Augustus Frederick’s intriguing life.
Augustus Frederick was born on 27 January 1773 at Buckingham House in London. As a child he was tutored at home before being sent with his brothers to the University of Göttingen, Germany, in 1786.
He is said to have had a particularly beautiful singing voice, grew to be more than six foot three inches tall and reportedly looked a lot like his elder brother George, Prince of Wales. However, he suffered severely from asthma so did not join his brothers in receiving military training in Hanover, though he did serve during the Napoleonic War in 1805 as Lieutenant-Colonel Commandant of the ‘Loyal North Britons’ Volunteers regiment.
He briefly considered becoming a cleric in the Church of England before deciding on a lifetime of travelling around Europe, engaging with religious, artistic and scientific discourse and occasionally intervening in politics.
While spending one winter in Rome in the hope that the warmer climate would help his asthma, the prince met Lady Augusta Murray, the second daughter of John Murray, 4th Earl of Dunmore and Lady Charlotte Stewart. They fell in love and were secretly married in a Church of England ceremony in Hotel Sarmiento, Rome, in the spring of 1793. As a result, the King’s minister of Hanover affairs was sent to Italy to discreetly escort Augustus Frederick back to London.
Back in London, the couple married again without revealing their true identities at St George’s, Hanover Square, in December of the same year. Both marriages took place without either the knowledge or consent of the king. As a result, the Prerogative Court annulled the marriage in 1794, arguing that it contravened the Royal Marriages Act of 1772, which required that royal marriages be approved by the king.
Lady Augusta and Augustus Frederick had two children, daughters named Augustus Frederick d’Este and Augusta Emma. Though they originally took the surname Hanover, they later used d’Este, which was a family both of their parents were descended from.
The couple continued to live together until 1801. The same year, King George III created for his son the Dukedom of Sussex, Earl of Inverness, and Augustus Frederick received a parliamentary grant of £12,000. The couple separated, and Lady Augusta retained custody of the children and maintenance from the Duke of £4,000 a year.
Prince Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex wearing the robes of a Knight Companion of the Order of the Thistle
Image Credit: G.E. Madeley, Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons
After Lady Augusta died in 1830, the Duke married Lady Cecilia Underwood, the daughter of Arthur Gore, 2nd Earl of Arran. The marriage took place at Great Cumberland Place in the summer of 1831, and again contravened the Royal Marriages Act, meaning it was legally void.
Lady Cecilia assumed the name ‘Underwood’, her mother’s maiden name, by Royal Licence.
When heiress to the throne Princess Charlotte of Wales ran away from her father to join her mother at Connaught House, she pleaded with her uncle, the Duke of Sussex, to help her. Though the Princess claimed that she wanted to escape her father’s harsh treatment, the Duke had no legal right to stop her from being forcibly returned home.
The Duke wrote a letter to the Prime Minister, Lord Liverpool, which demanded to see his niece and complained of her confinement at Carlton House. Later the same year, the Duke publicly addressed Lord Liverpool in the House of Lords, asking that Charlotte be allowed to see her friends, have personal liberty and go sea-bathing, which had been recommended for her health.
This had the desired effect: Charlotte was allowed to rise in Windsor Park and was sent to Weymouth for her health. However, the Duke’s involvement in his niece’s affairs led to the deterioration of the relationship between the Duke and his brother George.
The Duke was politically ahead of his time, calling for the abolition of the slave trade and the removal of civil restrictions on Jews. Indeed, he was the first ever royal to be the patron of a Jewish charity, after he was impressed by the work in helping Jewish children and families living with disabilities at The Jews’ Hospital and Orphan Asylum (now called Norwood), of which Queen Elizabeth II was a patron.
Portrait of the Duke of Sussex in his old age, by Thomas Phillips, c. 1838
Image Credit: Royal Society, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
He was also president of the Society of Arts from 1816 until his death, and president of the Royal Society between 1830 and 1838. He took a keen interest in biblical studies and the Hebrew language, with his library containing some 50,000 theological manuscripts, some of which were in Hebrew.
In 1838, he introduced the scientist John Herschel in a meeting, and gave a speech about the compatibility of science and religion.
Towards the end of the Duke’s life, he became known for his close relationship with his niece, Queen Victoria. He and his wife lived in apartments at Kensington Palace, and in the absence of her own father, gave her away at her wedding to Prince Albert in 1840.
The same year, the queen created Cecilia Duchess of Inverness, in her own right, which declared the remainder of male heirs born to the couple to be lawfully begotten. However, since the couple had no legitimate issue, the title Duke of Sussex became extinct upon his death three years later.
In the years approaching his death, Augustus wore a black skull cap and was deeply worried about his health. In 1832, he started to go blind, but a new and radical cataract operation saved his sight.
He died in 1843 of erysipelas, a bacterial infection also known as St Anthony’s Fire. He specified in his will that he not have a state funeral, and instead be buried at Kensal Green Cemetery. He is buried opposite the tomb of his sister, Princess Sophia, in front of the main chapel.
Upon his death, The Times newspaper commented that ‘No death in the royal family short of the actual demise of a monarch could have occasioned a stronger feeling of deprivation’.
]]>The essential parts of this machinery first meshed in the Regency period.
The ‘political’ Regency lasted from 1811 to 1820, the years in which the Prince of Wales acted as regent for his mentally ill father George III. The ‘cultural’ Regency is a longer span, often taken to begin with the century and close with the regent’s reign as George IV in 1830. Others put the start-date further back – sometimes to the first madness of King George in 1788. And unless it is pushed forward to 1837, the death of William IV, there is an awkward seven-year gap before the Victorian era (1837–1901) that has no label.
A good way to define celebrity is by contrast with fame. Both are conferred on a person by a community, but while fame is won by right, the reward of great deeds or power, and is fairly static, celebrity is transactional and fluid.
Three forces create celebrity and fashion its development: the celebrities themselves, who seek attention and material gain, but must guard against the potentially self-alienating split between private self and public image; the celebrity industry (handlers, agents, stylists, photographers, journalists etc) that has an interest in promoting them while staying out of view; and the audience, which admires them, needs them for self-validation, enjoys its control over them, and can bring them low if they fail to meet its expectations.
Historians disagree, but many think a recognisably modern celebrity culture emerged in the late 18th century, with London as its birthplace. The first truly capitalist economy, rural-urban migration, democratic ideas and improved education smudged class boundaries and opened new avenues to merit.
A free press full of personal matter and gossip allowed canny individuals to use self-promotion and bribery to forge a good public image. More polished advertising and the advent of branded goods ushered in a trend for high-profile endorsements. The growth in painted and engraved portraits and satirical prints offered a range of positive and negative representation of well-known persons. The audience’s constitutive role was clear, with celebrities actively courting public opinion, paying for visibility with loss of private life, vulnerable to brutal denigration for their missteps but often given the chance to redeem themselves.
‘The Gallery of Fashion’, caricature which satirizes early neo-classical influenced fashions in England
Image Credit: Isaac Cruikshank, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The commercialisation of literature, supplanting the old practices of patronage and subscription publishing, led to the rise of the author as personality. Memoirs, biographical reviews, portraits, press reports, publishers’ promotional stunts, literary salons and public lectures made writers circulate nearly as much as their books.
Lord Byron saw better than anyone that his profile comprised his life as well as his work, and he merged them by modelling his moody outsider heroes on himself and aping them in return. In typical celebrity mode his life became a story that he, in collaboration with enablers, told to great effect. But the Byronism his readers loved became a constraint, impeding creative innovation and obliging him to play a role that bored and overtaxed him. Then a disastrous marriage turned the fickle public against him and subjected him to the degradation that often closes the celebrity story.
Other poets rejected the demeaning exigencies of celebrity authorship and professed to write instead for posterity, but found that this stern purity itself became an image, a pose that appealed to a segment of the literary market, thus re-enacting the logic of celebrity.
The performance needed to maintain celebrity well suited those who played parts and interacted with audiences for a living. Theatregoing was hugely popular, and leading actors, often of modest origins, were wealthy and admired. The enthusiasm they aroused on stage made people want to know them, and using verbal and visual media they crafted a public intimacy that blended their personalities with their roles. In an age before recorded sound or film, they knew their art would die with them, and this sharpened their desire for the instant buzz of success.
Astley’s Amphitheatre, 1808-1811
Image Credit: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The craze for the child actor William Betty led to scenes of mayhem but fizzled out when he grew to manhood. Elizabeth Farren lived a fairly tale by refusing to be an aristocrat’s mistress, and then, after an engagement conducted on her terms, becoming his countess. Mary Robinson let herself be seen as a sex symbol, prompting an urge to vilify her as a harlot and trapping her in an image the ageing process made hard to sustain.
The tragedian Sarah Siddons so imbibed the gravitas of her roles and had such prestige as a cultural authority that she became imprisoned in a stiff, queenly persona. She also exemplified the addiction of celebrities, actors in particular, to their audiences, going on too long and suffering acutely when the curtain finally came down.
The joys and perils of celebrity in the Regency, the opportunities it offered and the vulnerabilities it created, can be seen through five celebrities in particular.
The Parvenue Duchess: The daughter of a poor wardrobe-keeper in a company of itinerant actors, Harriot Mellon married the elderly banker Thomas Coutts and then, after his death, the Duke of St Albans. The richest woman in the country and a tireless self-promoter, she was savagely abused by envious detractors.
The Tsar’s Intriguer: Dorothea Lieven was the steely wife of a rather mediocre Russian ambassador in London. Her intelligence, dignity and talent for flattery captivated numerous statesmen and made her a political force in her own right, a central participant in complex diplomatic manoeuvres on the European stage.
The Last Grandee: Richard Grenville, Duke of Buckingham was the corrupt chief of his family’s faction in parliament. He squandered his vast wealth on the acquisition of political influence, princely personal extravagance and acting the part of feudal grandee as master of Stowe, thereby causing the decline of the Grenville dynasty.
The Elegant Novelist: Mocked by Thackeray as ‘Lady Flummery’, Lady Charlotte Bury was a ‘Silver Fork’ novelist of high society. In her youth a great beauty and leader of fashion, she twice married poor men for love and was reduced to writing trashy fiction and even indiscretions about the royal family to stave off poverty.
The Fashionable Artist: Sir Thomas Lawrence was the most esteemed British painter of his generation and President of the Royal Academy, but in the face of rumours of homosexuality and compulsive gambling and the distaste for his seeming greed in relations with clients he had to use all his charm to uphold his high repute.
]]>Peter James Bowman is a writer and translator living in Ely, Cambridgeshire. He holds a BA from Oxford University and a PhD from Cambridge University. He has published 17 scholarly articles on German and British literature, and among the authors he has translated are Theodor Fontane, Stefan Zweig and Johanna Spyri. His first book The Fortune Hunter: A German Prince in Regency England appeared in English and German. His second book The Real ‘Persuasion’: A Real-Life Jane Austen Heroine was published in 2017.
His book The First Celebrities: Five Regency Portraits is published by Amberley Publishing, available 15 January 2023.
Though some sibling fights can be put down to inevitable squabbles of little consequence, the impact of others have started epic wars that have fundamentally altered the course of human history.
From childish insults to calculated murder, here are few of the most notable sibling squabbles throughout history.
Upon the death of her father in around 51 BC, Cleopatra married her brother, Ptolemy XIII. Just three years later, the siblings fell out and became engaged in a bloody civil war against one another. At the same time, Cleopatra and Ptolemy’s younger sister, Arsinoe IV, claimed the throne for herself. However, Cleopatra cleverly made herself a key ally via her personal and professional relationship with Roman leader Julius Caesar from 48 BC onwards.
The sibling in-fighting came to a head at the Battle of the Nile in 47 BC. Ptolemy drowned – possibly upon his sister’s orders – in the river shortly after his defeat. Arsinoe was captured, paraded through the streets in golden shackles, and exiled. Cleopatra then married another brother, Ptolemy XIV, but was later probably part of the conspiracy that murdered him in 44 BC, in a bid to make her son her co-ruler. In 41 BC, she finally had her sister Arsinoe murdered because of her rival claim to the throne.
A Roman painting in the House of Marcus Fabius Rufus at Pompeii, Italy, depicting Cleopatra as Venus Genetrix and her son Caesarion as a cupid
Image Credit: Ancient Roman painter(s) from Pompeii, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Relations between William the Conqueror and his half-brother Odo were often strained. In 1076, Odo was tried in front of a large assembly on the charges of defrauding the Crown. However, tensions properly came to a head in 1082 when William the Conqueror ordered Odo’s arrest for having planned a military expedition to Italy.
It’s unclear what Odo’s motives were: it might’ve been that he wanted to make himself pope in light of the conflict between Pope Gregory VII and Henry IV, Holy Roman Emperor. Nevertheless, Odo spent the next five years in prison, his English estates were taken back by the king and his office as Earl of Kent was removed.
George, Duke of Clarence, played an important role in the War of the Roses, a dynastic struggle between rival factions of Plantagenets. Though a member of the House of York, he switched sides to the Lancastrians, before later reverting to the Yorkists. His brother, Edward IV, naturally grew increasingly suspicious of his brother.
In 1478, Edward IV had his brother imprisoned in the Tower of London and put on trial for, in Edward’s words, ‘unnatural, loathly treasons’. This was likely because Clarence had both alleged that Edward’s wife Elizabeth Woodville was guilty of witchcraft, and had threatened to question the legality of the royal marriage. Clarence was privately executed in February 1478, in what was rumoured via drowning in a barrel of Malmsey wine. Though this rumour is thought to be a myth, a portrait thought at one time to be his daughter Margaret Pole showed her wearing a silver barrel on her charm bracelet.
The Duke and Duchess of Clarence, Cardiff Castle
Image Credit: Wolfgang Sauber, Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Catholic Mary I and her Protestant half sister Elizabeth I’s fractious relationship came to a head after Mary announced that she was to marry the Catholic King Philip II of Spain, which would usher in the Spanish Inquisition in England as well as the potential birth of a Catholic heir. In 1554, the Wyatt Rebellion, which planned to install Elizabeth I on the throne, was launched in retaliation. The plot was uncovered and Mary suspected Elizabeth of being part of it, so sent her to the Tower of London through Traitor’s Gate.
After eight weeks, Mary released Elizabeth on the condition that she convert to Catholicism. Afterwards, Elizabeth was guarded in a house of arrest, was then released again and later even ‘reconciled’ with her sister.
Though Charles I is said to have looked up to his elder, more physically robust, heir apparent brother Henry, Henry didn’t return his affections. An anecdote states that in around 1609-10, when Charles was 9 years old, Henry snatched the hat off a bishop and put it on the younger child’s head, before telling his younger brother that when he became king, he would make Charles the Archbishop of Canterbury so that Charles would have a long robe to hide his ugly, rickety legs. Charles reportedly then stamped on the cap and had to be dragged away in tears.
Charles II’s sons, the half brothers the Duke of Monmouth and the Duke of Grafton, fought on opposite sides during the Battle of Sedgemoor in 1685. The battle was the culmination of the Monmouth Rebellion, also known as the Pitchfork Rebellion, which aimed to depose James II, largely on the basis of his Catholicism. Dissident Protestant the Duke of Monmouth led the rebellion, while his half brother, the Duke of Grafton, commanded the royal troops in Somerset. The Duke of Monmouth was later executed for his part in the rebellion.
Mary and Anne, the two surviving daughters of Catholic James VII and II and his first wife, were raised as Protestants at the request of their uncle, Charles II. After James VII and II had a son, also named James, a threat emerged in the form of an heir presumptive who was also a Catholic. In 1688, Mary and her husband William of Orange successfully led the Glorious Revolution to depose Mary’s father, James VII and II.
James fled London for France, which the English Parliament were able to claim as an abdication. Scotland proved more complicated, so the Convention of Estates assembled, and decided to offer Mary and William the throne on the grounds of the Claim of Right. Thus, Mary and Anne’s teamwork meant that they excluded their half brother from the throne.
Napoleon once said, ‘My relations have done me more harm than I have done them good.’ Indeed, his many siblings – Joseph, Lucien, Elisa, Louis, Pauline, Caroline and Jerome – had been raised to the status of royalty as a result of their brother’s career, but still harboured sibling rivalries towards him. Lucien reportedly hated Napoleon from childhood, believing him to be a megalomaniac, and Napoleon later banished him to Italy for marrying a woman he didn’t approve of.
The rest of the Bonapartes were united in their hatred of Napoleon’s wife, Josephine, which resulted in Napoleon taunting his siblings with the honours that he lavished upon his wife and children, and not them. In 1804, Napoleon crowned himself Emperor, and his sisters and sisters-in-law were furious that they had to carry Josephine’s train at the ceremony at Notre Dame. After his defeat at Waterloo, Napoleon bitterly turned against most of his family,
Louis Bonaparte defending Dutch independence against Napoleon. Painted by Ten Kate
Image Credit: Herman Frederik Carel ten Kate, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Edward VIII, who was 11 years older than his disabled brother John, described his death as ‘little more than a regrettable nuisance’. Prince John, the youngest child of King George V and Queen Mary, suffered from severe epilepsy and autism and died in 1919, aged 13, after suffering a severe seizure. He had generally been kept out of the public eye at Sandringham until then, earning him the nickname the ‘Lost Prince’.
Moreover, writing to his mistress, Freda Dudley Ward, Edward wrote that John had only been a ‘brother in flesh’ and had ‘become more of an animal than anything else.’
In early December 1936, King Edward VIII proposed to marry Wallis Simpson, an American socialite who was once, then almost twice divorced. This triggered a constitutional crisis, with the governments of the United Kingdom and Dominions of the British Commonwealth strongly opposing the union. As a result, Edward abdicated later the same month and was succeeded by his brother Albert, who became George VI. Edward was then given the title of Duke of Windsor.
This created a lifelong resentment between the brothers, which was first marked by George VI forbidding members of the royal family from attending his brother’s wedding to Wallis Simpson. Later, the Duke of Windsor regularly rang George VI to ask for money, to the point where the King simply stopped taking his calls.
]]>However, our perception of Turpin is ultimately almost entirely untrue. In reality, he was a highly violent, remorseless man who committed crimes such as rape and murder, terrorising towns and villages as he went.
It was only after he met his death at the end of a rope in 1739 that the fallacious legend of Dick Turpin began to take shape via salacious pamphlets and novels.
So who was the real Dick Turpin?
Richard (Dick) Turpin was the fifth of six children born to a well-to-do family in Hempstead, Essex. He received a modest education from the village Schoolmaster, James Smith. His father was a butcher and innkeeper, and as a teenager, Turpin was apprenticed to a butcher in Whitechapel.
In around 1725, he married Elizabeth Millington, following which the couple moved to Thaxted, where Turpin opened a butcher’s shop.
When business was slow, Turpin stole cattle and hid in the wilds of rural Essex, where he also robbed from smugglers on the East Anglia Coast, occasionally posing as a Revenue Officer. He later hid in Epping Forest, where he joined the Essex gang (also known as the Gregory Gang), who needed help butchering stolen deer.
Dick Turpin and his horse clear Hornsey Tollgate, in Ainsworth’s novel, ‘Rookwood’
Image Credit: George Cruikshank; the book was written by William Harrison Ainsworth, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
By 1733, the gang’s changing fortunes prompted Turpin to leave butchery, and he became the landlord of a pub called the Rose and Crown. By 1734, he was a close associate of the gang, who had by then started burgling houses on the north-eastern outskirts of London.
In February 1735, the gang brutally attacked a 70-year-old farmer, beating him and dragging him around the house to try and extract money from him. They emptied a boiling kettle of water over the farmer’s head, and one gang member took one of his maidservants upstairs and raped her.
On another occasion, Turpin is said to have held the landlady of an inn over a fire until she revealed the whereabouts of her savings. After a brutal raid of a farm in Marylebone, the Duke of Newcastle offered a reward of £50 (worth over £8k today) in exchange for information that led to the gang’s conviction.
On 11 February, gang members Fielder, Saunders and Wheeler were apprehended and hanged. The gang dispersed as a result, so Turpin turned to highway robbery. One day in 1736, Turpin attempted to apprehend a figure on a horse on the London to Cambridge Road. However, he had inadvertently challenged Matthew King – nicknamed the ‘Gentleman Highwayman’ because of his taste for finery – who invited Turpin to join him.
William Powell Frith’s 1860 painting of Claude Duval, a French highwayman in England, depicts a romanticised image of highway robbery
Image Credit: William Powell Frith (19 January 1819 – 9 November 1909), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The pair then became partners in crime, apprehending people as they walked by a cave in Epping Forest. A bounty of £100 was quickly put on their heads.
The pair weren’t accomplices for long, since King was mortally wounded in 1737 over an altercation over a stolen horse. Early reports claimed that Turpin shot King. However, the following month, newspapers reported that it was Richard Bayes, landlord of the Green Man public house at Leytonstone, who had tracked down the stolen horse.
Nonetheless, Turpin was forced into a hideaway in Epping Forest. There, he was seen by a servant called Thomas Morris, who had made a foolhardy attempt to capture him, and was shot and killed by Turpin as a result. The shooting was widely reported, and a description of Turpin was issued along with a reward of £200 for his capture. A flood of reports followed.
Turpin thereafter led a wandering existence, until he eventually settled in a Yorkshire village called Brough, where he worked as a cattle and horse dealer by the name John Palmer. He was reportedly accepted into the ranks of the local gentry, and joined their hunting expeditions.
In October 1738, he and his friends were returning from a shooting trip, when Turpin drunkenly shot one of his landlord’s game cocks. When told by his friend that he had done a foolish thing, Turpin replied: ‘Wait until I have recharged my piece and I will shoot you too’. Hauled in front of a magistrate, Turpin was committed to Beverly gaol and then York Castle Prison.
Turpin, under his alias, wrote to his brother-in-law in Hempstead to ask for a character reference for his acquittal. By chance, Turpin’s former schoolteacher James Smith saw the letter and recognised Turpin’s handwriting, so alerted the authorities.
Turpin quickly realised that the game was up, admitted everything, and was sentenced to death for horse stealing on 22 March 1739.
Turpin’s last weeks were spent entertaining paying visitors and ordering a fine suit which he intended to be hanged in. He also paid five mourners to follow his procession through York’s streets to the gallows at Knavesmire.
Witnesses reported that Turpin was well-behaved and even assured, bowing to the crowds that had turned out to watch. Mounting the gallows, an unrepentant Turpin talked amiably with the hangman. Interestingly, the hangman was a fellow highwayman, since York had no permanent hangman, so it was custom to pardon a prisoner if they conducted the execution.
Reports of the hanging vary: some state that Turpin climbed the ladder and hurled himself off it to ensure a quick end, while others state that he was hanged calmly.
A Penny Dreadful featuring Dick Turpin
Image Credit: Viles, Edward, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Turpin’s body was buried in the graveyard of St George’s Church, Fishergate. However, his body was stolen shortly afterwards, likely for medical research. Though this was possibly tolerated by the authorities in York, it was hugely unpopular amongst the public.
An angry mob apprehended the body snatchers and Turpin’s corpse, and his body was reburied – this time with quicklime – in St George’s.
Richard Bayes’ The Genuine History of the Life of Richard Turpin (1739) was a salacious pamphlet that was hurriedly put together after the trial, and began to fuel the fire of Turpin’s legend. He became linked with the tale of a legendary one day, 200-mile ride from London to York to establish an alibi, which had previously been attributed to a different highwayman.
This fictional version was further embellished upon the publication of William Harrison Ainsworth’s novel Rockwood in 1834, which invented Turpin’s supposed noble steed, the jet-black Black Bess, and described Turpin in passages such as ‘His blood spins through his veins; winds round his heart; mounts to his brain. Away! Away! He is wild with joy.’
Ballads, poems, myths and local stories emerged as a result, leading to Turpin’s reputation as the ‘Gentleman of the Road’, or the ‘Prince of Highwaymen’ that endures today.
]]>At the centre of its development was Scottish watchmaker and instrument maker Alexander Cumming FRSE (1733-1814), who is best known for being the first to patent an improved design of the flush toilet.
So who was Alexander Cummings, and what improvements did he make to the flush toilet that benefit us all today?
Born in Edinburgh in 1733, little is known of Cumming’s early life. It is recorded that he was apprenticed to an Edinburgh watchmaker. In the 1750s, when Cumming was in his 20s, he was employed by Archibald Campbell, 3rd Duke of Argyll at Inveraray Castle as an organ builder and clockmaker.
He later moved to England as both an organ builder and watchmaker, notably being involved in making a series of elaborate barrel organs commissioned by the Earl of Bute, for which he patented a ‘self-acting mechanism’. He later also patented ‘antisymmetrical bellows’ for organ use.
He wrote books about watches and clocks, the impact that differently-shaped carriage wheels had upon roads and the influence of gravity.
Edinburgh circa 1769
Image Credit: Morris, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
By 1763, Cummings was recorded as being a watch and clockmaker on London’s Bond Street. His reputation was good enough that he was asked to help develop nautical instruments; for instance, he made a barometrical clock for King George III.
He made a significant number of instruments for Captain Phipp’s voyage in the polar regions, leading to an island in Svalbard, Cummingøya, being named after him.
Cummings didn’t invent the earliest version of the flushing toilet. Instead, the first modern flushable toilet was described in 1596 by courtier and Queen Elizabeth I’s godson, Sir John Harington, who installed an early version of the toilet in Richmond Palace.
The device called for a 2 foot deep, waterproofed oval bowl. Each flush required 7.5 gallons of water which came from an upstairs cistern, which was a significant amount. As a result, he specified that up to 20 people could use the toilet between each flush.
As a result, it took several centuries for the flush toilet to catch on in popularity.
In 1775, Alexander Cummings was awarded the first patent for a flushing version of the toilet. He modified the shape of the bowl, improved the flush mechanism and included an S-trap – more commonly known as a ‘bend’ – to retain water within the waste pipe, thus stopping sewer gases from entering buildings.
This S-trap is still present in most modern-day toilet designs. This design wasn’t without its issues, however; every time the seal leaked, explosive and bacteria-filled sewer gases got into the home, which could be highly dangerous.
Just three years later, a new patent was awarded to Joseph Bramah, who replaced a slide valve with a hinged flap that sealed the bottom of the bowl, which greatly improved the safety and efficacy of the design.
In the late 19th century, London plumber Thomas Crapper mass-produced one of the first widely successful lines of flush toilets. Though he didn’t invent the toilet, he did develop the ballcock, an improved tank-filling mechanism still used today. Indeed, the design of the toilet today has changed little since the 1860s.
Portrait of Thomas Crapper, populariser of the flush toilet
Image Credit: Unknown photographer, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
It is Crapper’s name which has become synonymous with his toilets (though it’s a common misconception that the word ‘crap’, which predates Crapper by centuries, originates with his name), mainly because of American servicemen stationed overseas during World War One.
Unfamiliar with the new invention, American servicemen referred to Crapper’s widely-used toilets as ‘crappers’, and continued to call toilets by the same name after the war had ended.
In addition to his inventing, clockmaking and writing, Cummings helped to develop the intellectual landscape of mid to late 18th century Britain. He became a magistrate in 1779, and two years later was made an honorary freeman of the Clockmakers’ Company.
He co-founded the Royal Society of Edinburgh in 1783, and was subsequently made a fellow. By the time he died in 1814, he was a highly-respected inventor.
]]>Both loved and loathed by the young women in attendance, debutante balls were once the pinnacle of the high society social calendar. Though less popular today, television shows such as Bridgerton have renewed interest in their glittering traditions and equally fascinating history, and lavish balls are still held today for the ‘crème de la crème’ of society.
So what is a debutante ball, why were they invented and when did they die out?
Catholicism traditionally cloistered unmarried aristocratic women in convents. However, the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century in England and northern Europe widely ended this practice amongst Protestants. This created a problem, in that unmarried young women could no longer simply be sequestered away.
Moreover, since they couldn’t inherit their father’s estates, it was essential that they be introduced to the company of wealthy noblemen who could provide for them via marriage. This was one of the purposes of the debutante ball.
King George III (left) / Queen Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (right)
Image Credit: Allan Ramsay, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons (left) / Thomas Gainsborough, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons (right)
By 1780, it was custom to return from the hunting season to London, where the season of social events began. The same year, King George III and his wife Queen Charlotte held a May ball for Charlotte’s birthday, then donated the money raised to fund a new maternity hospital.
To attend, parents of a young woman would request an invitation from the Lord Chamberlain of the Household. The Lord Chamberlain would then decide whether to extend an invitation based upon a judgement of her parents’ character.
Moreover, only women who had previously been presented to the monarch could nominate a debutante of their choice, which effectively confined the women in attendance to the upper classes of society. Queen Charlotte’s Ball quickly became the most important social ball of the social calendar, and was followed by a ‘season’ of 6 months of parties, dances and special events such as horse racing.
The first black ‘debutante’ ball is recorded to have taken place in New York in 1778. Known as ‘Ethiopian Balls’, the wives of free black men serving in the Royal Ethiopian Regiment would mingle with the wives of British Soldiers.
The first official African American debutante ball took place in 1895 in New Orleans, owing to the city’s large and upwardly mobile black population. These events were normally organised by institutions such as churches and social clubs, and were an opportunity for wealthy African Americans to show off the black community in a ‘dignified’ manner in the decades following the abolition of slavery.
From the 1940s to the 1960s, the emphasis of these events shifted to education, community outreach, fundraising and networking, and there were incentives such as scholarships and grants for participating ‘debs’.
Collection of debutante ball drawings
Image Credit: William Leroy Jacobs / Library of Congress
Before modern-day celebrities, a debutante could be one of society’s most notable figures, and would be profiled in publications such as Tatler. It was also a fashion show: in the 1920s, women were expected to wear an ostrich feather headdress and long white train to be presented at Buckingham Palace. By the late 1950s, dress styles were less rigid and more mainstream fashion-focused.
A young woman was allowed to flirt and go on dates, the latter of which would be strictly chaperoned during the early days of debutante balls. However, virginity was a must, and men could be blacklisted for being too handsy or presumptuous: they risked being labelled as NSIT (Not Safe In Taxis) or MTF (Must Touch Flesh).
Following the severe losses suffered during World War Two, wealth amongst the upper classes was often significantly dented by death duties. Since one season for one woman could cost up to £120,000 in today’s money, many war widows could no longer afford to pay for the outfit, travel and ticket expenses that being a ‘deb’ required.
Moreover, deb balls and parties were held in lavish townhouses and stately homes less and less; instead, they were moved to hotels and flats. Since food rationing only ended in 1954, the indulgent nature of the balls was markedly reduced.
Finally, the quality of debutantes was perceived to have fallen. Princess Margaret famously declared: “We had to put a stop to it. Every tart in London was getting in.”
Official portrait of Queen Elizabeth II before the start of her 1959 tour of the U.S. and Canada
Image Credit: Library and Archives Canada, CC BY 2.0
Though lesser forms of debutante balls have survived, Queen Elizabeth II ultimately put a stop to debutante balls where she was in attendance as the monarch in 1958. Post-war financial factors played a part, as did the burgeoning feminist movement that recognised that it was antiquated to pressure 17-year-old women to marry.
When the Lord Chamberlain announced the end of the royal presentation ceremony, it attracted a record number of applications for the final ball. That year, 1,400 girls curtseyed to Queen Elizabeth II over three days.
Though the heyday of debutante balls is over, some still exist today. While the formality of long white gowns, tiaras and gloves remains, the requirements for attendance is increasingly wealth-based rather than lineage-based. For instance, the annual Viennese Opera Ball is famously lavish; the least expensive ticket costs $1,100, while tickets for tables for 10-12 people are priced at around the $25,000 point.
Similarly, the Queen Charlotte’s Ball was revived in the early 21st century and is held annually at an extravagant location in the UK. However, organisers state that rather than serving as a way for aristocratic young women to ‘enter’ society, its focus has shifted to networking, business skills and charity fundraising.
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