Garrick, David 14, 35, 38, 41, 84, 201, 203, 206, 260, 261, 263
Gay, John 34
Gentleman, Francis 32, 33, 37, 77
Goadby, Jane 195–6, 198, 199
Goldsmith, Oliver 76
Grand Ball d’Amour 252
Grant, James 124
Grosvenor, 1st earl of 217, 255
Grosvenor, Lady Henrietta; 252
Grub Street 75–6, 77, 161
Haddock’s Bagnio 12, 118, 214
Hamilton, Emma 285, 287
Hanway, Jonas 178, 179, 183
Harris, Charles 263, 265
Harris, Jack/John Harrison 17, 118, 119, 165, 200
legend of 18–22, 184–6, 262–3
early years as Harrison 22–3, 24, 26–7, 281
and Shakespear’s Head 54–5, 56–7, 63–4, 111–12
arrest 181–3
and The Rose Tavern 201–6, 260–62, 263–4
publishing enterprise 204–5
final years and death 262–66
Harris, John 205
Harris’s List of Covent Garden Ladies (printed version) 118–21, 124–27, 163, 164, 239–40, 266–7, 269, 276, 277–80, 281–3, 285
Women listed in
—, Miss 137
Abbingdon, Frances 131–2
Adams, Miss 138
Atchison, Kitty 175, 296
B—ckley, Kitty 135
B—l—w, Betsy 145
Baker, Sukey 286
Benevent, Charlotte 158
Berry, Mrs 155–6
‘Betsy’ 269
Bland, Miss 174
Boothby, Miss 158
Bowen sisters 293
Bradley, Lucy 159
C—l, Miss 158–9
C—l—d, Miss 176–7
‘Cherry’ Poll 128
Charlton, Miss 294
Child, Becky 286
Clarkson, Miss 160, 171
Coulthurst, Emily 144–5
Crosby, Nancy 294
Cross, Miss 134
Cullen, Sarah 294
Cumming, Mrs 134–5
Cuyler, Margaret 130
D—rkin, Hetty 176
Dafloz, Madam 156–7
Davenport, Nancy 294
Davis, Bet ‘Little Infamy’ 117, 129
Dean, Miss 295
Deville, Mrs 150
Dorrington, Jenny 146
Euston, Kitty (also Eustace) 290
F—m—n, Sally 142
Ferne, Mrs Charlotte 157
Fernehough, Miss 175–6
Fitzroy, Miss 294
Forbes, Mrs 154–5
Forrester, Pol 137
Fowler, Mrs 148–9
Freeland, Mrs 138
Gainsborough, Charlotte 295
George, Mrs 143
Gordon, Tamer 176
Grant, Miss 172
H—lsb—ry, Miss 151
Hamblin, Mrs 136
Hartford, Fanny (also Temple) 95, 286
Hawkins, Polly 129
Hendridge, Mrs 148–9
Heseltine, Miss 294
Horton, Mrs 160
Hudson, Betsy 269
Hudson, Miss 172–3
Ingmire sisters 293
Jackson, Polly 136
Jordan, Miss 146
Kennedy, Polly 155
Kilpin, Miss 138–40
L—k—ns, Miss 173–4
Ledger, Miss 149
Lee, Miss 152
Lefevre, Becky (also Clapereau) 285
Lorraine, Charlotte 132–33
Love, Eliza 132
Loveborn, Miss 152
M—c—ntee, Mrs 133–4
‘Madamoiselle’ 157–8
Marshall, Miss 286
Menton, Miss 289–90
Miles, Betsy 153–4
Noble, Miss 151
Norton, Lenora 292, 296
O’Dell, Miss 295–6
Orwell, Mrs 175
P—t—rson, Lucy 134
Quiller, Mrs 159–60
Ratcliff, Miss 290
Robinson, Miss 133
Saunders, Miss 137
Seabright, Miss 294
Sells sisters 147–8, 293
Sims, Miss 147
Smith, Miss 141–42, 164
St—y, Nancy 136
Str—on, Sally 146
Townsend, Miss 294
Trelawnley, Miss 294
V—ne, Nancy 136
Vincent, Mrs 294
W—ll—s, Miss 142
W—lp—le, Mrs 157–8
Wallington, Miss 143–4
Wargent, Miss 294
West, Miss 135
Wilkins, Miss 145–6
Wilkinson, Isabella 130–1
Williams, Mrs 140–41
Young, Miss 155
Harris, Thomas (theatrical manager) 78, 105–6
Harrison, George 22, 23, 24, 27
Harrison, Nicholas 204
Harvey, Mary (née O’Kelly) 248, 271
Hayes, Charlotte 15, 167, 237, 277, 290
birth and early years 42–3, 45–51, 122
physical description 50–1, 93–4, 161
and Robert Tracy 88–91, 92, 94–101, 189
and Sam Derrick 50, 51, 92–99, 100–101, 104, 196, 239–40
in the Fleet 100–1, 189–94, 250, 251
and Dennis O’Kelly 190–91, 192–99, 207, 239, 244–45, 246, 255–57, 270–71, 273–4
Kings Place nunneries 207–22, 238, 250–55
‘Tahitian Feast of Venus’ 252–54
pregnancy 240, 242–43
and Mary Charlotte O’Kelly 247–50, 268, 270–1
financial problems 100–1, 238, 250–51, 252
mental breakdown 271–73, 275–76
additional brothels 268–70
Half Moon Street 258–59, 268, 269, 270, 284
Hayward, Clara 209
Hedges, Maria 236
Hell Fire Club 22, 212
Hickey, Joseph 249–50
Hickey, William 53, 95, 124, 213–4, 249–50, 269–70, 286, 292, 297
Hill, Aaron 77
Hill, Dr. John 183–6, 263
Hillsborough, earl of, ‘Wills Hill’ 84
Hogarth, William 126, 161, 164, 165, 183, 201, 264
Home, John 85
Howard, Nancy 117
Hughes, Mrs 117
James, Ralph 76
Jenyns, Soame 77
Johnson, Dr. Samuel 14, 38, 41, 75, 79, 82, 84, 85, 110, 230
Jones, Inigo 13
Jones, Nancy 49–50
Kelly, Charlotte (see Hayes, Charlotte)
Kennedy, Polly 293–4
Kenyon, Lord Chief Justice 283
Kingston, 2nd Duke of 209
Kitty’s Attalantis 205
Leathercote, Richard 201
Lessingham, Jane (also Stott, Hemet) 102–8, 162, 235–6
Lewis, Harriott 251
Lists of Prostitutes 62–3, 112–3, 114–5, 204–5
Lucan, Lady Margaret 252
Mackintosh, Captain 270
Macklin, Charles 35, 52, 84
Macklin’s Piazza Coffee House 14
Magdalen Hospital 178, 179
Mahon, Gertrude 252
Mallet, David 77
Markham, Enoch 33
Matthews, Catherine 254
Memoirs of the Bedford Coffee House 110–111, 113
Memoirs of the Celebrated Miss Frances Murray 55, 60, 61, 164, 186
Mist, Nathaniel 19, 20
Mitchell, ‘Mother’ Elizabeth 216, 251
Mordaunt, Henry 292
Mossop, Henry 32
Murphy, Arthur 87
Murray, Fanny 49, 50, 64–5, 66, 88, 92, 166, 288
Nash, Richard ‘Beau’ 49, 227, 228
Needham, ‘Mother’ 126
Newgate prison 183, 186, 187, 283
Nocturnal Revels 22, 47, 88, 90, 91, 96, 99, 108, 195, 197, 210–211, 217–18, 219, 221, 251, 253–4
Oeconomy of Love (John Armstrong) 220–1, 253
O’Kelly, Andrew Dennis 248, 251, 258–9, 268, 271, 275, 276
O’Kelly, ‘Mrs’ Charlotte (see Hayes, Charlotte)
O’Kelly Dennis 166, 167, 241, 250, 268
early years 190–91
physical description 190
rumours of marriage 191
in the Fleet 192–96
gambling 215, 190–2, 258
and Eclipse 243, 244, 245
Miss Swinbourne incident 245–6, 167
hospitality of 255–56
later years 272, 274
death and will 274–5
O’Kelly, Elizabeth 248, 271
O’Kelly Mary Charlotte 247, 248–50, 268, 271–2
O’Kelly Philip 244, 166, 272, 275, 276
‘Old’ Twigg 54
Oldys, Dr. William 84–5
Owen, Susannah 89
Pendergast, Sarah 251, 252
pimps/pimping
charges
‘Poundage’ 65
‘Tire money’ 65–6
‘Chair money’ 67
‘arranging a flier’ 68
‘humming fund’ 67
‘Whore’s club’ revenue 66
definition of 26
pimp’s lists (handwritten) 62–3, 64–5
Pitt, William 270
Place, Francis 46, 124, 281
posture molls 201–2
Powell, Harriet 209, 287
Pratt, Robert 88
Price, Chace 212, 221
Prostitution/Prostitutes 284–98
virginity 46–7
‘in keeping’ 47–8
professional names 48–9
and married women 59
Irish 60
training of 60, 208–9
‘the Whore’s Club’ 66, 69–70
brutalities and dangers of 95–6, 287, 288–91
arguments in favour of 120
social make-up 121–4, 287
routes into the profession 125–27, 210–11, 285
pregnancy 241–2
marriage to keepers 287
alcoholism 289–90
perceptions of 291, 294–8
relationships with other women 293–4
living arrangements 292–4
Queensborough, Duke of (‘Old Q’) 222
Quin, James 231, 232
Ranger, H. 114, 119, 122, 204, 280, 281, 282
rape 126–7, 292
Register Offices 58, 126, 210, 211
The Remonstrance of Harris 55, 60, 69, 183–6
Reynolds, Joshua 279
Rich, John 104
Richardson, Samuel 125
Roach, James 280–3
Roach, John 280–3
Roach, Margaret 281
Roach, Mrs 281
Roach, ‘Tiger’ 281
Rose Tavern 12–13, 95, 167, 201–4, 206
Ross, David 166
Rowlandson, Thomas 270
S—t—n, Miss ‘The beauty of Arlington Street’ 168
St James’s, Piccadilly 170, 199
St Leger, Lord Hayes 78
Sandwich, 4th earl of 217
Savage, Richard 75
Seaforth, 4th earl of 209, 287
Selwyn, George 211, 212, 220
Shakespear’s Head Tavern 12, 38, 39, 52–4, 70, 71, 80–1, 92, 95, 112, 181–82, 199, 200, 202, 203, 206
Shannon, 1st earl of 224, 226
Shelly, Miss 221
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley 203, 263, 264
Shuter, Ned 14, 52, 84, 131, 293
Smart, Christopher 84
Smith, Ann 45
Smollett, Tobias 69, 78, 79, 84, 93, 108–9
Soho 198
Southwell, Lord Thomas 224
Spencer, ‘The Honourable’ Charlotte 61–2, 165, 252
Spencer, Robert 61–2
Spilsbury, James 251
Star Tavern 68
Storace, Ann 276
Stott, Mrs Jane (see Lessingham, Jane)
Stott, Captain John 105
Strode, Edward 88
Strode, Lucy 88
Swift, Jonathan 28
Taylor, Dr. John 79, 102, 103, 104, 233
Thompson, Edward 50, 51
Temple, Fanny (see Hartford, Fanny)
Tighe, Elizabeth (née O’Kelly) 248
Timbs, John 24
Tomkins, Packington 53–4, 57, 63–4, 71, 111, 181, 182, 184–5, 200, 201, 202–3, 206,
Town and Country Magazine 93, 100, 231, 242
Tracy, Judge Robert 86
Tracy, Robert ‘Beau’ 86–91, 92–101, 189, 196, 231, 265
Uxbridge, 1st earl of 217
Vaughan, Thomas 124
Von la Roche, Sophie 121
Wales, George Prince of 217, 255
Walpole, Sir Robert 19
Ward, Charlotte (see Hayes, Charlotte)
Ward, Elizabeth 42–5, 46–7, 48, 89, 91, 100, 189, 196, 212
Ward, Ned 111
Warren, Emily 214, 209, 285
Watson, Thomas 201, 203
Weatherby, ‘Mother’ Elizabeth 49, 214
Welch, Justice Saunders 53, 121, 122, 123, 126, 178, 179, 180
Weyms, Betsy 292
Wildman, William 243
Wilkes, Thomas 225
Wilson, Tom 78, 233, 234
Windsor, ‘Mother’ Catherine 251
Woffington, Peg 35, 52, 84, 201
Wood, J.L. 281
Woodcock, Sarah 126
Wright, Justice 181, 182, 183
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hallie Rubenhold is a historian and expert in women’s lives in the eighteenth century. She is the author of the novel Mistress of My Fate, the first in the series of Confessions of Henrietta Lightfoot, a courageous Georgian courtesan. Also available is Hallie Rubenhold’s edited version of the original Harris’s List.
Find out more about the author and her works at www.hallierubenhold.com, and about the series of novels, Confessions of Henrietta Lightfoot, at www.henriettalightfoot.co.uk.
Read on for an extract from Mistress of My Fate by Hallie Rubenhold
5th March 1835
MY DEAR READER, how pleased I am that you have purchased this volume! It warms my heart that you have requested it from your bookseller; that he has wrapped it carefully in brown paper and string and handed it to you. How happy I am that you have taken it home with you to read in the quiet of your sitting room or library. Now you may know the truth, and nothing gives me greater relief than this.
I have no doubt that many of you have come to this work out of curiosity. You have heard so much about me, most of which is pure fabrication. Now that you have torn off the packaging and cut the pages, you can begin to read my story and to know who I am. You see, for some time a relation of mine has been attempting to discredit me in the most reprehensible manner. I have no doubt that he too sent a servant to his local bookseller to collect a copy of this work. As you read this, so does he. His eyes are scanning every word, searching every syllable. He is among you, taking in my story alongside you.
To him I say, Lord Dennington, do not think I have written these memoirs because of you. Do not flatter yourself. You are only part of the reason. There is much I need to say on the matter of my life and I have grown weary of your slander. Whomever you have hired to do your disgraceful deeds, whether it is those shameless scribes who will print anything for a crust of bread, or that unscrupulous little spy you planted among my loyal staff, they are not capable of telling the truth. You pay them and so they will say anything. Certainly, a man who has seen as much of the world as you should know this.
Now it is my turn to pick up my pen, to clear my name, to scrub away the lies with which you have stained it. I must commend you for the amusement you have provided for me and my friends. We laughed heartily at your accusations – that I had been a circus performer, that I worked as a charlatan attempting to revive the dead and, worse still, that I murdered a ship of sailors. Really, this is quite absurd.
No, sir, as you will come to r
ealize, these memoirs are not written solely because of you. I write because it is time for the public to hear my story, because for as long as I have been called Mrs Lightfoot, great men and women have asked for it. The world wants my confession yet, until this moment, I refused to honour that request. I wished to keep my life and my adventures quiet. Like you, my lord, discretion was one of the virtues I was taught as a child.
As for my other readers, whose sensibilities I wish to protect, I feel the need to issue a warning. In these pages I set out to tell the absolute truth. If you take offence easily, if you are faint of heart or of a delicate nature, there is much here that you are likely to find objectionable. It is necessary for you to understand why I have, in the past, refused to discuss these private matters. My story is not an easy one to relay, nor is it likely to be short.
I shall begin by telling you what I remember most vividly: an early morning in late October. I was but seventeen and so unprepared for the world that I hardly knew how to dress myself, let alone judge character or transact the business of ordinary life. I sat on the floor of my bedchamber in the darkness, entirely unaware of the hour. There was no fire in my grate, nor would there be anyone coming to light it. I shivered, from both the cold and a complete terror of that which I knew I must do.
For most of the night I had sobbed. I had lain outstretched on the floor, like a condemned prisoner, unable to move or think, able only to ache. My life as I had known it was now about to end. But, as any good Christian will tell you, with death there also comes resurrection and the possibility of a better existence elsewhere. I knew this in my heart, and that rebirth was the sole path open to me. I had only to muster the courage to grab for it and, in doing so, let go of all that tied me to the girl I had been.
So I did this, while the moon threw its dim cast across my window sill. I worked without so much as a candle to guide me, rummaging through the most essential of my belongings: linens, stockings, skirts, a petticoat and, most importantly, the few small items of value that I as a young lady owned. Of all a woman’s possessions, jewels will get her the furthest and mine, on several occasions, have saved me from experiencing the grossest of depredations. At the time, I had but two trinkets: a gold and pearl cross, which I always wore upon my person; and a pair of simple pearl eardrops. I was too young for diamonds. Those are for married women, and in any case, owing to my precarious position within their family, Lord and Lady Stavourley saw no need to adorn me so lavishly.
I wrapped my bundle as a servant would, in a sheet. I had never before carried my own belongings and I did not even know how to tie them up securely. However, I found that soft packet offered me some comfort as I clutched it to my breast. It calmed my trembling.
I dressed for the road, but not without some struggle, sliding on my sturdiest shoes and fumbling with the buttons of my grey riding habit. Around my shoulders I threw my blue cape, the hood of which rested atop my black hat. I hoped to look respectable for my journey without drawing attention to myself. In truth, I knew that most people would be able to guess my circumstances. It is not usual to see a well-dressed young lady with spotless white gloves and a quivering expression travelling unchaperoned.
The Covent Garden Ladies: The Extraordinary Story of Harris's List Page 36