19 August saw Princess Augusta brave the sea while her father walked along the Esplanade. He then decided to ride out along the road to Dorchester while the Queen and five of her daughters “took an airing in the carriage” before returning to “the Dukes Lodge” for dinner. The Dukes Lodge was owned at that stage by the King’s brother the Duke of Gloucester.
A year or two later the King purchased Gloucester Lodge and used it for all subsequent visits. Later years saw it converted into a hotel. A disastrous fire in the 1920s caused the Lodge to be altered with the addition of an extra storey and a huge porch—and it remains as luxury apartments with splendid sea views.
Things settled down to a routine of bathing, walking, riding out, and trips to the theatre (apparently often to see the same play…). On the evening of 21 August, the whole party traipsed up to see the Army Camp “and saw the men go through their exercises. His Majesty paid the Marquis of Buckingham many compliments on their different manoeuvres” and in return was rewarded with a “21 gun salute and the men gave three huzzas”.
The next day—a quick swim and then they assembled at the pier at ten to be taken on board the frigate Southampton for a trip round the bay. That was just the Dress Rehearsal, since the next day they repeated the exercise in order to review the fleet from on board the Southampton. The Prince of Wales turned up at half past three, and at seven the entire family and its entourage headed for the theatre “which was full and brilliant.”
Sunday saw a return to Melcombe church, and in the afternoon the Queen and the Princesses “took an airing in the Sociable on the sands.” Apparently they brought at least two of these open carriages with them since they all paraded in the Sociables over the next couple of days. The full title of the vehicle was a sociable barouche, and consisted of two double seats facing each other, usually drawn by one but sometimes two horses.
More visits to the theatre followed in the next few days, to see The Chapter of Accidents and The Romp. If it wasn’t the theatre, they stayed in and played cards, but if She Stoops to Conquer was on, they invariably went to see that, or Animal Magnetism starring Tony Lumpkin as “the Doctor”….
The days dragged by into September with little to alter the routine. On 8 September, Princess Augusta bathed while her father walked the esplanade prior to an airing on horseback upon the Dorchester road. It was their Majesties’ Wedding Anniversary, so the guns of the frigates and sloops in the bay thundered out their salute, answered by a salvo from the shore battery. There was a ball and supper that night “in honour of the day”.
On 9 September His Majesty bathed (no longer in his old machine: the new one had been brought into commission). “This afternoon his Majesty held a Privy Council at Gloucester Lodge.” The meeting broke up at half past four leaving the King time for an afternoon stroll. That evening the Queen had a concert and a card party, and the next day looked to be a repeat of all that had gone before—bathing, promenading, taking the air, and “the Royal Family intended to honour the theatre with their presence; but were prevented by the arrival of an express with news of the death of Her Majesty’s sister.”
The Prince of Wales, who loathed these family gatherings (and anyway far preferred the more fashionable company to be found in Brighton), was able to escape on 12 September, going on “a shooting party to Mr. Churchill’s seat near Blandford.”
Those remaining went to see the Sencible Cavalry, where Farmer Enfield had generously “donated an ox roasted whole. The spectators were numerous”. The Sencibles appear to have been a sort of Home Guard, intended to protect the country as opposed to being sent overseas. General Tarleton stated in Parliament that:
he could not see the least public utility—he never saw a corps of sencibles that answered his idea of military excellence: they were well enough adapted for young gentlemen to display their equestrian graces and military prowess in country villages but the expense [half a million pounds in 1796] was enormous.
And so they strutted around, doing their stuff, and munching on roast ox….
Another day, more swimming, more games of cards, more airings in the Sociable. I was interested to see that at this stage the Queen had not actually gone into mourning for her sister—official mourning started on 14 September, four days after the death, when it was reported that “This day the Royal Family and the nobility here went into mourning for the Queens sister”. That didn’t preclude His Majesty and Prince Ernest going bathing, nor going on board the Southampton for a spot of dinner, nor indeed going to the theatre.
The 16th was a trifle unfortunate for some: the royal party went to watch the Buckinghamshire Militia be put through their paces—“His Majesty paid the Marquis a very high compliment on the men being so well disciplined” before sitting down “to a cold collation in the Lord Chancellor’s marquee. On leaving the camp a royal salute was fired; when a melancholy accident took place—one of the gunners belonging to the artillery had his arm shot off, and expired soon after.”
A trip to Maiden Castle to view the Sencible Cavalry took place the following day, and no doubt His Majesty, taking dinner at Gloucester Lodge, was able to observe the commotion as “Mr Farrow and his two daughters, in the company of two naval officers, were coming on shore at the pier when the boat ran foul of a post buried under the water and was overset.”
On 18 September, “Princesses Mary and Elizabeth bathed in the Floating Machine”. Prince Ernest and the Duke of Gloucester also had a quick dip before a huge thunderstorm occurred and a gale swept across Weymouth Bay. “About nine the Sunflower, being driven from her anchor, fired two guns of distress…the longboat from the Southampton with great difficulty saved them from going upon the rocks.”
The Royals stayed indoors until the storm abated and then went out in the evening to the theatre. It stayed rough and wet for the next few days but the twenty-second was the anniversary of the King’s coronation so “the troops fired a feu de joie, which was answered from the batteries. At one the ships fired a royal salute, and were all dressed on that occasion.”
In the coming days there were hunting parties and much drinking of tea at Lady Powlet’s as well as more trips to the theatre. But all good things must come to an end, and I dare say that the Royal Princesses were well pleased when the sixteenth of September came and they could all spend the entire day packing and preparing for departure—no swimming, no riding, no promenading, and no theatricals….
An early start on the day of departure (18 September) saw everyone set off at five in the morning. They paused for an hour at Salisbury, came through Hartford-bridge, and reached Windsor at half past six. “A general illumination took place in the evening, bells ringing and guns firing, amid the acclamation of the whole town.”
So there you have it—five weeks by the seaside, very much en famille. It certainly helped put Weymouth on the map!
The Blue Stocking Circle
by Lauren Gilbert
After the death of Queen Elizabeth I (a very scholarly woman), education for women declined. Gentlewomen in the early 18th century England were not encouraged to be educated. For many, reading, writing, and a little arithmetic were the most they could hope for (useful skills for acquiring religion and running a household)—and maybe a little French, drawing or painting, and some music, for social accomplishments.
For most women of lower classes, even that much education was not possible. Ideally, women should be content with whatever fathers and husbands chose for them to know. As Alexander Pope wrote in 1720:
In beauty and wit
No mortal has yet
To question your empire has dared;
But men of discerning
Have thought that in learning
To yield to a lady was hard.
However, not every woman was satisfied to be uneducated, confined solely to domestic interests or placated with empty compliments. Even wit
hout the kind of formal education provided to young men, there were women who learned at home, acquired knowledge, and wanted to be able to use and enjoy it.
I should begin by saying that this article is an introduction, a broad and general overview, to a group of well-to-do, mostly married, society women in the mid-18th century, who wanted to do more than dance and play cards for recreation. They were women of some education who met informally to discuss literature, the arts, education, and similar topics. They did not allow politics and scandal as topics for discussion. These meetings, or “conversations,” were similar to the French salons and were held in the women’s homes.
The two most noted hostesses were Elizabeth Vesey and Elizabeth Montagu. Other women who participated included Fanny Burney (Madame d’Arblay), Hannah More, Mary Delany, Catherine Talbot, and Elizabeth Carter. Each of these women is worthy of a blog post of her own.
Several of these women were authors or artists themselves. (Elizabeth Montagu contributed to Lord Lyttleton’s Dialogues of the Dead. Hannah More and Fanny Burney were both novelists. Mary Delany produced hundreds of letters and her own works of art.) Some provided encouragement to those who did write, study, and create. Individually, members of the group provided financial assistance to artists, writers, and others who were in need.
Interestingly, the participants at these meetings were frequently fairly evenly divided between men and women right from the beginning. (This was not about men vs. women; these were women who wanted to be involved on an even level with men.) Elizabeth Vesey was the first important hostess of these gatherings, and her husband participated in her events. He himself was interested in literature and was considered an excellent host.
The hostesses invited educated men to participate and mixed society figures with writers and artists. The male guests included David Garrick, Horace Walpole, James Boswell, Dr. Samuel Johnson, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Lord Lyttleton, and Samuel Richardson. Science, music, art, literature, and education itself were all represented at these meetings and were widely discussed. Sometimes, one particular speaker would dominate the event; other “conversations” might consist of small groups conversing among themselves.
Where did the term “Blue Stocking” come from? There are several theories, but the most accepted indicates that the term was coined as an affectionate nickname for Benjamin Stillingfleet, botanist and poet, who had given up society. He originally declined his invitation to Mrs. Vesey’s “conversation” because he did not have formal evening wear, which included black stockings. She told him not to mind, just to come in his blue stockings (his usual everyday wear) and he did; he was very popular and was called “blew stockings” afterwards.
According to Boswell, “Such was the excellence of his conversation, that it came to be said, we can do nothing without the blue stockings, and thus, by degrees, the title was established.” This term was gradually applied to the women members of the group as a good natured nickname. Hannah More wrote a poem “Bas Bleu” (French for Blue Stocking) celebrating the group. The term seems to have begun as an informal, affectionate nickname within the group that later was applied in derision by outsiders. Ultimately, to be called “blue” or “bluestocking” became a negative term for an earnest or priggish woman who likes to show off her knowledge.
Today, the “Blue Stocking Circle” is considered an early feminist movement. Personally, I find it difficult to apply the modern term “feminist” to these women. They were women of their time. Their positions and resources allowed them certain freedoms that other women did not have; although they clearly supported intelligent women and education, there is nothing to show they sought a radical change in social structure.
Politics were not a subject for their “conversations,” and there is no indication that they were actively discussing significant changes on a societal or political level in relation to the position of women in general. In fact, they were not always tolerant of those who did flout certain society standards.
For example, Hester Thrale was friends with Elizabeth Montagu and Fanny Burney. However, Mrs. Montagu and Miss Burney couldn’t accept Hester’s second marriage to an Italian music teacher named Gabriel Piozzi, and the friendships ended. Clearly, even though they were willing to mix elements at their “conversations,” there were still conventions to be upheld.
They were generous with their support, but there is no indication they tried to change the world in which they lived. However, these women clearly showed that females could hold their own with men in intelligent conversation, that women were capable of enjoying literature and learning about science and the arts as well as how to embroider and draw. Their group was the most well known, but by no means the only group involving women in discussion; debating societies were very popular. In a very real sense, their “conversations” and similar groups contributed to people thinking about the issues that ultimately became feminism.
Sources
Byers, Nina. “Overview of Women’s Education in England and the United States 1600-1900.” December 4, 1999. Contributions of 20th Century Women to Physics. http://cwp.library.ucla.edu/articles/WL.html.
Drabble, Margaret, Jenny Stringer, and Daniel Hahn, eds. The Concise Oxford Companion to English Literature. Oxford University Press, 2003.
Heape, R. Grundy. Georgian York. London: Methuen & Co. Ltd., 1937.
Hilton, Boyd, A Mad, Bad, and Dangerous People? England 1783-1846. New Oxford History of England. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2006.
Hodge, Jane Aiken. Passion and Principle: The Loves and Lives of Regency Women. London: John Murray Publishers Ltd., 1996.
Ward, A.W. and A.R. Waller, eds. The Period of the French Revolution, Volume XI of The Cambridge History of English and American Literature in 18 Volumes. http://www.bartleby.com/221/.
Robin Hood, Agincourt, and Gender Equality?: Archery in Late Georgian England
by J.A. Beard
From the legend of Robin Hood to the gallantry of the archers at the Battle of Agincourt, archery has long been a part of the English’s cultural identity, even if some of their Saxon ancestors didn’t think much of it for war.
Alas, in England, as in so many other places, the superior lethality and ease of training associated with firearms caused the practical-minded English to adopt the newer weapon over bows and arrows. Over the centuries, the proud tradition of English archery sank into near irrelevance.
In the closing decades of the Georgian period, a growing fascination with many things from the medieval past led to the rebirth of the English archery tradition. Many gentlemen of means were gentlemen of leisure. Indeed, it was a mark of pride to not have to work for one’s living. They had more time to devote to non-vocational pursuits (though, I suppose, gambling can be a vocation of sorts). Among other things, though, this meant that many gentlemen also had time to devote their attention to sporting activities.
It was this context that in 1781 led Sir Ashton Lever to form an archery society in London, the Toxophilite Society. There were some earlier societies formed, but they would lack the influence of Sir Ashton’s society. The men of this society were interested in archery as both a sport and as another way to socialize. This particular society also would gain a powerful patron in the form of the Prince of Wales (later the Prince Regent and ultimately King George IV). The Toxophilite Society became the Royal Toxophilite Society, which, incidentally, still exists today.
The royal boost and success of the Royal Toxophilite Society helped inspire archery clubs and societies throughout England. These societies and clubs typically had rules and uniforms. That being said, actual serious attention to mastering archery was far from universal. While many archery societies did their best to lay the groundwork for a sport of skill and dedication, many other societies used archery as just a flimsy excuse to throw lavish parties and get drunk with the sports aspect barely a consideration. So, in that sense, these Georgia
n fellows were not that different from many amateur sports clubs in modern times.
Although Western target archery has grown and evolved over the decades, many basics of the sport are still heavily influenced by the influence of these earliest archery societies.
Those who have seen the Gwyneth Paltrow version of Emma may remember an archery scene where Emma Woodhouse shoots off a few arrows. Though Austen’s novel contains no references to Miss Woodhouse practicing archery, this scene is otherwise not anachronistic.
In contrast to the gender differences that marked many other activities in the late Georgian and Regency periods, archery was considered not only an acceptable pastime for women, but even an acceptable pastime for proper ladies, including a gentleman’s daughter such as Emma Woodhouse.
At the time, most sports were effectively barred, via social condemnation, from women as they were considered that most horrible of things for Georgian ladies: unfeminine. Archery was considered an activity in which women could demonstrate their grace and “feminine form” in a way that the people of the time didn’t consider vulgar. While archery was not the only permissible sport (some other examples included the badminton precursor, shuttlecock, and lawn bowling), it was unusual in its relatively quick acceptance of women into the fold for an activity that started as male only.
The initial men-only archery societies allowed female guests of members to visit to shoot, and many (though certainly not all) soon allowed full female members. In 1787, the Royal British Bowmen were the first archery society to allow full women members.
Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors Page 41