Victorian London - Publications - SocialInvestigation/Journalism - The Great Metropolis, by James Grant, 1837
[-1-] THE GREAT METROPOLIS.
CHAPTER I.
ALMACK’S*
* It may be right to mention, that for much of the information contained inthis chapter, I am indebted to one who has been many years a member.
Almack’s Assembly Rooms, known merely as Almack’s, was a social club that opened in London on King Street in St. James and operated from 20 February 1765 to 1871. It opened to compete against the grand social affairs given by Teresa Cornelys, an opera singer and impresario, who hosted fashionable gatherings at Carlisle House in Soho Square. Stephanie Carstens, the founder of Almack's Historical Dance Society in Idaho Falls, explains what kind of dancing they have and how the group got started. Almack's Assembly Rooms, named after founder William Almack, opened for business on February 13, 1765, in King's Street, St.
Located on King Street in the heart of St. James’s, Almack’s Assembly Rooms was an exclusive and fashionable dance club that flourished during the Regency. The Wednesday evening balls, overseen. The East Greenwich ALMACS was at approx 553 Main St in what is now called 'Greenwich Commons',Trainboy90. In that spot now (on Google Maps) is 'Kon Asian Bistro' and next door to that is.
Interest it creates — Its origin — Constitution—The Season—Admissioninto—Anxiety to be admitted— Its influence on the fashionable world—Splendourof its balls—Its dances—Unhappiness of ladies in it—The injury it inflictson many families—Difficulty of breaking up the monopoly.
ALMACK’S! What a sound! With what powerful emotions does many a fair bosombeat at the mere mention of it! It is the subject of the nocturnal visions ofthousands of both sexes in the fashionable world: it is the subject also of [-2-] their day dreams. It is the everlasting topic of conversation in thearistocratic circles. You hear it repeated a thousand times perhaps a day.'Are you a subscriber to Almack’s this season ?' 'Have youapplied for admission to Almack’s ?' 'What a dashing ball that wasat Almack’s on Wednesday !' 'I did not see you at Almack’s lastnight !' 'Have you heard that the Mortons have applied for admissionto Almack’s and been rejected ?' 'I’m sure those vulgar low-bredcreatures the Cottons have not the least chance of being admitted: it was apiece of great assurance on their part to suppose the ladies-patronesses couldlisten for a moment to an application from such a quarter.' 'O, Inever saw the Marchioness of Londonderry look so well as she did at the lastAlmack’s; she was so splendidly dressed.' 'That brute LordLandonvale was quite tipsy at Almack’s last night: I was sorry to see mammagive him the slightest countenance.' These, and a hundred otherexpressions, are quite current in the higher circles on the subject of Almack’s.Beyond [-3-] those, however, who are members, scarcely any one has any idea of whatAlmack’s really is; and even by such as are subscribers, comparatively little,with few exceptions, is known of it.
When, or under what particular circumstances, Almack’s was originallyinstituted, is not exactly known. It is first accidentally noticed by HoraceWalpole, who says, 'There is a new institution which begins to make, and ifit proceeds, will make, a considerable noise. It is a club of both sexes, to beerected at Almack’s on the mode of that of the men of White’s. Mrs. Fitzroy,Lady Pembroke, Mrs. Leynell, and Miss Lloyd, are the patronesses.' I havenot been able to ascertain the precise time at which this was written;otherwise it were easy to find out the year in which Almack’s wasinstituted. It may, however, be said in general terms to have been about acentury ago. The institution took its name, just as our modern clubs do, fromthat of the proprietor of the rooms in which the meetings were held. The sametitle is still retained, as in the case of White’s and Brookes’s, thoughAlmack [-4-] has slept with his fathers for considerably more than half a century. Thepresent proprietor of the rooms in which the balls take place, is Mr. Willis, towhom I shall have occasion to refer two or three times in the course of thechapter.
Soon after the institution of Almack’s, it was for some years discontinued,owing to some misunderstanding among the ladies-patronesses. It was re-organisedon such an extensive scale, and under such powerful patronage, that it assumed asway and importance in the fashionable world which its foundresses nevercontemplated. That influence on the bon ton it still continues to exercise.And a more despotic power never existed. All that we read about politicalslavery in other countries, is not to be compared to this. The fashionable worldare bound hand and foot to the half dozen fair tyrants in Kingstreet, St.James’s. The conclave who sit there around a table covered with red cloth,every Monday during the season, have the power, by their single fiat, of makingor unmaking entire families. They can open or shut the doors [-5-] of fashionable lifeon them, by the mere circumstance of giving or withholding a ticket to Almack’s.The proudest and most aristocratic family in the land are fain to bow down, andwith cap in hand, to use a homely but expressive phrase, supplicate ' asubscription' from this 'coalition cabal.' To be a member ofAlmack’s is a sure passport to the very first society: it is to give either alady or gentleman the highest status in the world of fashion to which humanbeings can attain. To be refused admission to Almack’s—I mean that sort ofrefusal which is well known to be tantamount to a perpetual exclusion—is toblast one’s prospects, in so far as aristocratic society is concerned, forlife. What renders the absolute power of the committee of Almack’s the moreterrible to the lords and ladies of the land is, that it is often exercised inthe most capricious manner. If either of the ladies-patronesses have anypersonal dislikes to gratify—and I need not say the probability is, that allof them have many—they have it in their power to get their 'little sweetre-[-6-]venge' when sitting in full divan around the 'board of redcloth.' They unhesitatingly refuse to admit the applicant; and they are notcalled upon to assign any reason for pronouncing a fiat of exclusion. The thingis done at once: there is no appeal. It is in vain that the parties boast,perhaps, of belonging to one of the most ancient and noblest families in GreatBritain: in the fashionable world, if excluded from Almack’s, that will notavail them. How the unlimited power which the committee at Almack’s possess,is exercised, will appear from some of the statements which I am about tomake.
The committee consists of six ladies-patronesses. Formerly there wereseven; but since the Princess Lieven, the celebrated Russian politician andbeauty, quitted this country, the number has been only six. They are theCountess of Jersey, the Marchioness of Londonderry, Lady Cowper, the Countess ofBrownlow, Lady Willoughby D’Eresby, and the Countess of Euston.
These ladies-patronesses are self-elected. [-7-] Whenever one of them dies orresigns, the others meet together, and after a great deal of canvassing of themerits of the various parties proposed by each other, the lady for whom there isthe greatest number of votes is chosen. When the office of lady-patroness isvacant, innumerable intrigues—many of them such as, one would think, no lady,far less a lady of the highest class, would on any consideration be a party to—are set on foot to carry the private ends of some of the ladies-patronesses.The Countess of Jersey may have some friend she wishes, for particular reasons,to be appointed to fill the vacant office. Lady Cowper has another. Then comesthe din of war. Each of the other three ladies-patronesses may possibly havesome 'dear friend' in her eye whom she would like to see around the'board of red cloth ;' but usually one or two lord it—perhaps inthis case I should rather say, 'lady' it—over the rest. And wheneverit is seen that those possessing the most sway, either from imperiousness ofmanner or some peculiar persuasiveness when pressing [-8-] their point, are determinedto insist on the parties they propose, the more good-natured and less decided ofthe number forbear to urge their suit, and join with either of the two greatbelligerents. A well and obstinately contested point of this kind by thesearbitresses of fashion and influence in aristocratic society, is one of therichest scenes which could possibly occur. Not long since there was' acontested election' of this kind in Willis’s Rooms, when the 'rulingpassion,' and every other passion, of the two ladies-patronesses whoopposed each other on the occasion, were shown off, as a sportsman would say, inexcellent style. The conventional rules of aristocratic society were all set atdefiance: the usual courtesies of life were disregarded, and the two patronessesmade use of terms to each other’s faces which they had often employed behindeach other’s backs. Each, in plain English, lost her temper, and vented herspleen in terms which one does not expect to hear escape ' fairladies'’ lips. Of the two, Lady Dominant, who had usually got things her[-9-] own way before, worked herself into the greatest paroxysm of passion. Shecoloured deeply; one would have thought all the blood in her body had risen toher face. Had she been single, and a host of lovers been at the moment at herfeet, the terrific frown which clouded her brow would have scattered theminstanter in all directions; and not one of them would ever afterwards havepenned a sonnet to her 'beautiful eyes,' her 'lovely lips,'or to any other real or imaginary attraction. The tones of her voice, too, aswell as the words themselves, bespoke the violence of the storm which raged inher bosom. What a pity that under so fair and fascinating an exterior, therecould be so much of fierce and furious passion. The Baroness Positive wassomewhat more measured in her indignation; she did not, at any rate, lose thecommand of her temper so entirely. The language she made use of in attack ordefence, just as the case happened, was not so unmeasured as that employed byher opponent; but there was, if possible, more of deep-rooted ill-nature in it,[-10-] and it must have left a much deeper sting than the plain-spoken words of LadyDominant. The truth in this ease was, as it would be found in many other casesnot altogether dissimilar—the truth was, that the belligerents had long been rivals for supremedominion in Almack’s, and in this instance they contested the point with suchviolence and pertinacity, not because they cared anything for the party whosecause they espoused, abstractedly considered, but because the principle involvedwas their own relative power at the board. Hitherto Lady Dominant had, asbefore-mentioned, carried things, in most cases, whatever way she liked. Thisthe - Baroness thought ought not to be suffered; and with the view of tryingwhat might he done in the way of curtailing her ladyship’s influence, by abold and pertinacious resistance to her authority, she nominated a friend forthe vacant office, in opposition to the protégée brought forward by herrival. The effort, however, was unsuccessful. Lady Dominant succeeded by amajority of one in carrying her point, there being [-11-] three of the other ladies-patronesses in favour of her 'dear friend,' while only two espousedthe cause of the Baroness.
The elections of ladies-patronesses are for life, —only any one is liableto be expelled should a majority decide on the expediency of such a step. This,however, is never done, unless it unfortunately happened that the party had madesome egregious false step in morals, which had been 'duly brought under thepublic eye.' When one lady-patroness becomes peculiarly obnoxious to one ormore of the other ladiespatronesses—no very rare case, by the way— thecourse adopted for getting rid of the 'odious creature,' or the 'horrid woman,' is to annoy her in every possible way. The insults andindignities heaped on one of the divan, by Lady Dominant and one of hercreatures, some years ago, exceeded the bounds of credibility, and were thesubject of universal remark at the time. The insulted party at last soughtrefuge from the persecution to which she was subjected, in resignation.
[-12-] The season at Almack’s usually commences in the second week of April, andends about the middle of July. The committee, alias the six ladies-patronesses,meet every Wednesday between the hours of three and six, at Willis’s Rooms,for the purpose of deciding on all applications for admission, and making theother requisite arrangements for the various balls. Each lady sits down at theround table with her desk before her; while the secretary, rather a good-lookingsort of personage, not quite a youth nor yet stooping under the antiquity ofexistence, sits a little behind. The triangular pieces of paper which Mr. Willishas previously put into a box, containing the various applications foradmission, are then taken out, opened, and read. The claims of each candidateare then discussed seriatim.. And such a discussion! Could the poor unhappyparties themselves—no matter which sex has the honour of claiming them— onlyoverhear all that is said of them,—I mean when the committee are not at onceunanimous for their admission, —they would then have some [-13-] notion, if theynever had any before, of what Shakspeare meant when he makes Hamlet say he will'speak daggers' to his mother. Miss Manchester applied at thebeginning of last season for a ticket. ' Who is this Miss Manchester?' inquired Lady Dominant. 'Does anybody know anything about her? Inever heard the name before.'
'Nor I,' said the Marchioness of Duffus,' Some upstart vulgar creature of city origin, I suppose,' shecontinued, giving her head a most contemptuous toss.
'She is a very respectable young lady; I have seen her two or threetimes, and she is possessed of an immense fortune,' said Baroness Positive.
'Made, I have no doubt, by her father’s spinning-jennies,' said LadyDominant, sneeringly.
'Her father is a manufacturer in the Manchester trade, but he is a mostrespectable man: my brother and he are on very intimate terms,' said theBaroness.
[-14-] 'Well, surely the impudence of these low-bred, vulgar people! it exceedseverything,' said the Countess of Speyside. ' Why, after this, itwould not surprise me to see every coal-merchant’s daughter in the cityapplying for admission.
'O! the very idea of the thing is monstrous,' observed LadyRafford.'Besides, the creature’s a perfect fright. You know, my dear Baroness,you pointed her out to tee one day in the Strand.'
'Quite a turnip face, I dare say,' said Lady Dominant.
'And cats’s-eyes, I’ll answer for it,' observed the Marchioness.
'You are both right,' said Lady Rafford.
'And you might have added carroty-hair. The very thought of such ahorrid-looking creature, and a cotton-merchant’s daughter, waltzing at Almack’s,almost throws me into hysterics.'
'I think you are unreasonably severe,' observed the Baroness. 'Sheis heiress to a princely fortune. Her father is worth half-a-million, [-15-] and herhand would therefore be deemed a prize by any nobleman in the land. My brother,Colonel Vincent, has begged of me as a particular favour, to do all I can toget her admitted, and I therefore hope your ladyships will give her avoucher.'
'Yes,' said Lady Dominant, bridling up, yes, if we wish to disgraceourselves and the order to which we belong. If we did, I dare say,' - shecontinued, biting her lip and tossing her head, 'I dare say the piece ofvulgarity would come to our balls dressed in some of her father’scotton-cloth. Better admit our housemaids at once.'
'I’ll engage,' said Lady Rafford, assuming an air of unwontedself-importance, 'I’ll engage this would-be-fashionable Miss Vulgaritycould not acquit herself, though she were here, so well as one of mywaiting-maids.'
'O !' said Lady Dominant tartly, and with some haste, '0 letus be done with this poor - empty-headed but aspiring cotton-spinning [-16-] Miss; thevery idea of listening for one moment to her application is perfectlymonstrous.'
Miss Manchester was of course refused a ticket, there being no one but theBaroness to support her claim. Neither would she but for the circumstance thather brother, who has since married Miss Manchester, had so urgently pressed herto do so.
But it is where there is a personal ill-will on the part of some of theladies-patronesses towards the party applying, that these ladies give the bestproof of what they can do in the way of mangling one’s character and woundingone’s feelings at the same time.
Gentlemen have to apply in the same way as ladies for their tickets ofadmission. And their several characters are often subjected to a severe ordeal.In cases, however, where the candidate belongs to a family of great distinction,and above all, if he have a high title, and be an elder son,' greatallowances are generally made for him. The Countess of Guernsey says, [-17-] and no onecan question its truth, that if the ladies-patronesses were to be too strict onthe question of morals, there would be no gentlemen at all at Almack’s; theladies would have the balls to themselves, and would require to make partners ofeach other, the best way they could. In the case of the ' detrimentals,'viz. younger brothers, however, the same allowances are not made. Their beingroués, is often a very convenient pretext for their exclusion. The observationof a lady-patroness, in a younger brother’s case, when it is wished to refusehim admission is, that 'No man’s daughter would be safe in his company;none of us could admit him into our houses.' The most. dissolute'elder brother,' however, in England, provided he has a good title,and either has, or is heir to, a good estate, finds ready admission, when thereare no personal feelings in the matter, both into Almack’s, and into theirhouses. In either case he encounters nothing but smiling faces both on the partof the mothers and daughters.
[-18-] Sometimes, when the ladies-patronesses are not very decided either inacceding to or rejecting an application, they agree to give a ticket to theparty for one night, or three tickets for a set, as they are called, of theballs. In those cases where the candidate is deemed particularly eligible,either from rank, beauty, friends, or any other cause, the ticket is granted forthe season, and is called a subscription. The price of each ticket isseven-shillings-and-sixpence. About twenty years ago it was a guinea; but asupper was then provided, and no additional charge made. Now there is no supper;there is nothing in the shape of refreshments but tea and lemonade, and theworst of it is, that both articles are so miserably bad that it requires aneffort to drink either. The lemonade is sour as vinegar; while to apply the wordtea to the stuff called by that name at Almack’s, were one of the mostunwarrantable perversions of language ever perpetrated. Give it to any personwithout calling it by any name, and that person will [-19-] soon find one forhimself. He will at once call it chalk and water.
When the six goddesses of fashion and manners are seated at the table todecide on the claims of the various applicants, they have three baskets besidethem. The first and largest basket contains the triangular billets in which theapplications are made. The second basket contains the names of the parties whoseclaims are admitted; and in the third are the names of those who are doomed toexclusion. It sometimes happens, however, that this exclusion may not beintended to be perpetual. There may not be any very strong objection to theparties; but the list of members may chance to be pretty full at the time, andthe claims, in the meantime, of other persons are considered superior totheirs. Those, on the other hand, as in the case of Miss Manchester, or some'detrimental,' who in consequence of his elder brother being marriedand having a family, has no earthly chance of ever being aught but a'detrimental, '—in such cases, where the doom is in-[-20-]tended to beeverlasting, the names of the parties are entered in a book kept by theladiespatronesses for the purpose, which saves all future trouble should theparties ever apply again. Their names being found in this black-book settles thequestion of their admissibility at once.
When parties are refused a ticket, the painful intimation is conveyed to themin a printed circular, with a blank left to be filled up with the unfortunatename. The intimation is laconic enough. It assigns no reason for the refusal. Itis to this effect —' The ladies-patronesses’ compliments to Mr. or MissSo-and- so, and are sorry they cannot comply with his or her request.' Thisis not sent to the residence of the parties by the two-penny post, or by any ofWillis’s servants. All intimations of rejection are left with Willis, and theparties only learn the result by calling on him for the ' answer,' asit is termed. These answers, like the applications, are all contained inthree-cornered notes.
[-21-] When the claims of a candidate are admitted, the ticket,or voucher, as it is called, signed by one of the ladies-patronesses, is leftfor him with Willis. Every one on going to the balls must present his ticket: itis not enough that Willis or any other person knows quite well that he has beenadmitted.
It is impossible to conceive the interest shown by the candidates and theirimmediate friends as to the fate of their applications. Instead of waiting tolearn in the usual way, they often have Lord This, or Colonel That, whom theyknow to be acquainted with one or other of the ladies-patronesses, waiting onhorseback at the corner of King Street, to ascertain from her lips the result.If the party be admitted, the other flies to his residence with the rapidity oflightning to announce the joyful news. If not admitted, you may read the factfrom the appearance of the horse. No perspiration is dropping from the animal:there is no foam about his teeth: he at least is a gainer by the rejection ofthe friend of his master: no spurs have been [-22-] darted into his sides on his way tothe residence of the unsuccessful candidate.
No one not acquainted with the fact from observation, or from thecommunications of persons who are so, could have any idea of the influence putin requisition to gain admittance into Almack’s. It is a fact which maystartle some when they hear it stated, but it is a fact, as the aristocracy willall bear testimony, that many families evince as great anxiety, and make asgreat exertions, to get their daughters into Almack’s, as they do to get theirsons into parliament. And the disappointment, when they do not succeed, is oftengreater in the former than it is in the latter case. In the one case it is onlylooked on as a question of the preponderance of family influence in a particularpart of the country, and the comparative popularity of a certain class ofprinciples; in the other, it is regarded as the lowering of the unsuccessfulparty in the scale of social importance: a putting, as it were, an extinguisheron one’s pretensions to move in a certain sphere of life. A young lady, before[-23-] she receives a subscription to Alrnack’s, and after she has had thatdistinction conferred on her, can scarcely be regarded as the same person. Shemay, after dancing at Almack’s, aspire to move in a circle of society, ofwhich she could not have dreamt before. She has now the chance of receivingproposals for her hand in marriage, from parties who would not before havedeemed her on a level with themselves. It is the same with the male sex. Thegentleman who is admitted to Almacks, though only moving in a comparativelyhumble sphere of life before, may now hold up his head in the best society to bemet with in the country; and he may, without incurring the risk of beingconsidered presumptuous, solicit the hand of any lady in the kingdom.
But independently of the opportunities which admission into Almack’saffords of getting into the very highest order of society afterwards, suchadmission is a matter of great importance both to unmarried ladies and unmarriedgentlemen, from their being there brought into con-[-24-]tact. One great object whichthe ladiespatronesses have in view, and of which they never lose sight intheir admission of candidates, is to bring about matches between the sexes. Andthis object is accomplished to an extent to which none but the members have anyidea. There the youthful aristocracy of both sexes meet, week after week, duringthe whole of the season: there the young nobleman sees around him all the beautyof the order to which he belongs. The probability is, that he fixes hisaffections on some particular lady. They dance together, and then retire to thetea- room, which is at the furthest end of the ballroom, where, sitting downon one of the sofas, he whispers into her ear a declaration of love. Sheblushes; he reads—for all lovers are skilful physiognomists, whatever otherpeople may be —he reads in her flurried countenance that she is propitious.Taking courage from such favourable appearances, he proceeds, if hurried on bythe impulses of his ardent affection, to the next step, which is to propose; or,if not so very [-25-] violently in love as to be unable to restrain himself from making apoint-blank proposal at once, he defers it till they meet again at Almack’snext week; and then the business may be said to be done. The remainingarrangements follow as a matter of course. In the aristocratic world little timeis spent in courtship, compared with that which is usually consumed in payingand receiving addresses among the middle and lower classes.
In the tea-room many elopements have been planned, as well as proposals ofmarriage made. It was in that small room that an elopement which excited so muchinterest in the fashionable world, a few years ago, was agreed on. The richheiress had just been conducted thither by the partner with whom she had danced,under the pretext of receiving some refreshment. The father suspected nothingwrong; but lest he should observe the whisperings that passed between theparties, two ladies who were in the secret, and in the interest of the younggentleman, stood together immediately before them, [-26-] in such a position, apparentlyengaged in earnest conversation, as to render it impossible he could perceivethat anything confidential was taking place.
So anxious are the committee of Almack’s to promote matrimonial matches,that they often refuse to admit young gentlemen whom they think in marriageablecircumstances, to a third season, because he has 'done no good' thetwo first. They reason in this way :—The young gentleman who is incircumstances to justify his marrying, and who has withstood all the femaleattractions of two seasons, will, in all probability, become a confirmedbachelor—a sort of animal who has no business at Willis’s Rooms. I thinkthere is much sound philosophy in this reasoning, and much wisdom in thedetermination to give no encouragement to bachelors. They are a moral nuisancein the company of marriageable ladies,—as they also are, very often, in thesociety of their own sex. It is tantalising to a young lady, after havingperhaps for years been, to use a homely phrase, 'setting her cap' at[-27-] one of these personages—to her own prejudice it may be, in relation to othersuitors, who would have proved excellent husbands,—it is tantalising to findafter all that he is invulnerable to female fascination.
The tickets which are given to gentlemen candidates, whether for the seasonor for a set of balls, or for a single night only, are not - transferable to anyother party. Ladies’ tickets are transferable from a mother to a daughter,from a daughter to a mother, or from sister to sister; but in no other case. Nofamily is allowed to have more than three ladies’ tickets. It is an understoodthing among the ladies-patronesses, that no subscription or ticket be given byeither of themselves to a lady whom the lady- patroness does not visit, or to agentleman who is not introduced to her by a lady who is on her visiting list. Nolady’s or gentleman’s name can continue on the list of the samelady-patroness for more than two sets of balls; -nor are ladies to considerthemselves entitled to the second set of halls, unless it has been so inti-[-28-]matedto them when they received their vouchers for the first. There is anotherregulation strictly observed by the ladies-patronesses, which is, that no ladyor gentleman shall have more than six tickets from the same lady-patronessduring the season.
There is one thing which has always characterised Almack’s: that is theentire absence of political feeling in the administration of its affairs. Theladies-patronesses, like most of the other female branches of the nobility, havetheir own individual prejudices and partialities on political subjects; but theynever carry them into the committee-room. Their politics have nothing to do withthe election of each other when there are any vacancies, nor do they everinfluence their decisions as to the admission or rejection of the candidates.
The ladies-patronesses have for many years past consisted exclusively ofmarried ladies. This indeed, as matters are now managed, is an indispensableregulation. There are many little things connected with the discharge of theiroffi-[-29-]cial duties, which would not altogether suit the delicacy requisite in youngmisses.
The office is no sinecure. The duties connected with it are of the mostarduous nature. The solicitations the patronesses are ever receiving from allparties, praying them to use their influence on this one’s behalf, and thenext one’s behalf were enough to try the patience of the most philosophic ladyin existence. Then there is the trouble of opening and examining the host ofthree-cornered applications on paper, at Willis’s rooms, together with athousand other little matters which must be attended to. Those only who have hadto bear the burden of so much business, can tell what its weight is. So entirelyare the ladies-patronesses engaged with the cares of office during the season,that one and all of their husbands protest they are perfectly useless as regardstheir domestic duties.
Some of these unhappy husbands wish that their being useless were the worstof the evil. Not only is everything neglected at home, to the unspeakable joy ofthe servants, who do not fail to [-30-] have their 'season' too; but theAlmack’s mania is carried to such a height, that the unlucky husbands neverknow when their carriages or horses are at their own disposal, or when they arenot. A lady is in ecstasies of delight when she is chosen one of thepatronesses; she overlooks the trouble and fatigue in the honour and power theoffice confers on her; but no one yet ever heard of a husband being glad tolearn that his wife had been chosen one of the ministers in this great temple offashion; all of them have been heard rather to lament the circumstance, as oneof the greatest calamities of their life, and to wish Almack’s at the—I willnot say where; because the poor husbands say it thoughtlessly and in the heat ofthe moment.
The room in which the balls take place is one of the most beautiful inLondon: perhaps I might say it is not to be surpassed anywhere else. Whenlighted up it has a most dazzling effect; and I need not say what the scene mustbe when crowded with all the beauty which the aristocracy can boast. The doorsare thrown [-31-] open at ten o’clock; betwixt that time and eleven, the bustle andanimation in St. James’s Street exceeds anything which the mind can picture toitself. You hear far and near the cracking of the whip, the clattering of thehorses’ hoofs, the rattling of the carriages, the hallooing of coachmen andfootmen; and you see the most splendid equipages, bearing with them the choicestbeauty and fashion of the land, flying past you every moment, all on their wayto the scene of action for the night. Dancing commences at eleven. EitherWeippert or Collinet then strikes up his band. From that moment till four o’clock,there is no repose for the poor fiddlers: they, indeed, are the only mortals tobe pitied there. And yet, I am not sure after all, whether that which wouldunder other circumstances, be an intolerable labour, be not so much lightenedby the 'bright phalanx of beauty,' as Sir Samuel Whalley would say,before them, as to be scarcely any labour at all.
Formerly the rooms were shut at twelve o’clock [-32-] precisely, and no memberwas, under any circumstances whatever might be the rank of the party, admittedafter that hour. Some years since, however, the ladies-patronesses came to aresolution that an exception should be made in favour of those members whobelonged to either House of Parliament.
The circumstances under which this exemption in their favour was made, wereamusing. The Duke of Wellington came in breathless haste one evening to KingStreet, just as an important debate had been concluded in the House of Lords,and rushing up to the door, requested admittance. It was then precisely fiveminutes past twelve. He was told by the person stationed at the door that he wastoo late, and that he could not be admitted. 'Humph !' said his Grace,in his own peculiar manner, and looking at the person who refused to open thedoor, with an expression of countenance which almost petrified the poor fellow,' Humph ! it’s only a few minutes past twelve.'
'Can’t help it, your Grace; am sorry, but [-33-] the orders of theladies-patronesses are peremptory that no one be admitted after twelve.'
' Sir, open the door this instant,' said the Duke, sternly.
'Can’t do it, your Grace,' was the answer. The Duke, for thefirst time in his life, now knew what it was to command without being obeyed.The poor wight of a door-keeper though afraid of offending the Duke, was stillmore so of offending their highnesses, the ladiespatroflesses.
'And you won’t open the door then,' said the Duke, once more.
'I daren’t do it, your Grace: my orders are most positive.'
'Then, sir, you shall hear more of this,' said the Duke, andwheeling about on his heel, he quitted the place.
The circumstance having been brought before the ladies-patronesses, theycame to the re - solution of making an exception in favour of members of bothHouses of Parliament.
The room, which is spacious and lofty, is [-34-] lined all round with two ranges ofsofas. The ladies-patronesses have one sofa appropriated to themselves at theupper end. It is an interesting sight to see the various sofas gradually fillingas the distinguished visitors drop, one after the other, into the room. A littlebefore the dance commences, and when almost all have arrived, and are seated onthe sofas, the scene is one which it is not for me to attempt to describe. At alate ball, a stupid old nobleman, contrary to the etiquette on such occasions,walked over from one side to another to speak to the Dowager Duchess ofRothieniurchus. The daughter of the latter gently reproved him by saying,'Your Grace must be a bold man to cross the room just now with all eyesupon you.' 'He must, indeed,' said a noble marquis, of greatmilitary reputation, to whom the young lady afterwards repeated the observation,'he must, indeed. I know this, that I would at any time much sooner facethe enemy on the field of battle, than have walked slowly over the room, as hedid, at such a moment.'
[-35-] In order that no one may encroach on the space set apart for the dancers, itis marked off by ropes, which extend along the room. This has the desiredeffect; the space intended is always kept clear; but some of the more spiritedof the dancers, especially among the male sex, often dash against the ropes inthe midst of the gallopade, and sometimes, by the rebound, are thrown prostrateon the floor. There would be no harm in this, if they were themselves the onlyparties who suffered from their 'rushing,' as Miss Caroline FredericaBeauclerk says, 'like headstrong fillies,' because it would serve toteach them to proceed at a more moderate pace next time; but the evil is, thatothers, and ladies too, suffer as well as themselves. When they are thrown downon the floor, it not unfrequently happens that they prove a stumblingblockto some 'charming young lady,' who, before she is aware, falls overthem, and is stretched in the same horizontal posture as themselves. A fewseasons ago, Lord Larmont had been gallopading it at such a rate, that [-36-] down hewent, and in a moment three others, one of them a young lady, followed hisexample.
'Accidents' as they are called, from this cause, are not so commonas are those which occur from the slipperiness of the floor. In order to give ita polish, it is rubbed over with some French composition, the nature of which Iforget; and it matters not much though I do. This composition makes the floorvery slippery, and as the gallopade, which more resembles a race than anordinary dance, is the most common dance at Almack’s, it is not surprisingthat 'accidents' should occasionally occur on the floor. Last season,several accidents of this kind took place. The Hon. Miss Lorimer fell oneevening with a tremendous crash on the floor, taking with her Lord Covesea, whochanced to have hold of her hand at the moment. Two others, a lady andgentleman, as if envying the fortune of the prostrate couple, immediatelyreduced themselves to the same level. The prostrate beauties, as if by anundefinable species of sympathy, uttered piercing shrieks as they [-37-] lay on theground. In a moment every mamma and chaperon in the room, whose daughter orcharge was not by her side at the time, hurried to the scene of the catastrophein the utmost alarm. The unfortunate beauties, more frightened than hurt, werepromptly raised by the gallantry of those of the opposite sex nearest to them atthe time, and after shedding a few tears, all was as much set to rights as ifnothing had happened.
Some idea of the gallopade at Almack’s will be formed from the followinglines by the Hon. Miss Caroline Beauclerk, niece of the Duke of St. Albans,herself one of the best dancers that ever occupied a floor. The poetry is by nomeans superior, but the picture given of the thing intended to be represented,is rather vivid.
An ALMACK’S GALLOPADE.
Now Weippert’s harp each youthful breast inspires,
A space is clear’d,the dancers take their ground,
Each dancing beau claims her he most admires—
With pleasure here allyouthful hearts rebound.
[-38-] But see the galoppe’s graceful, joyous strain,
Makes the red rose mounthigh in beauty’s cheeks,
Old damsels round for partners hunt in vain,
Th’ unrivall’d one hisfavour’d fair one seeks.
Enchanting dance !—the growth of German land—
At thy gay signal fairyfeet are flying;
Soft vows are made, and broke, as hand in hand
The dancers rush in speed eachother vying.
Let’s mark the num’rous vot’ries of the dance;—
L— first rusheslike a headstrong filly,
Cranstoun and Walpole may be said to prance,
Smith’s so, so,—and ditto,Baron Billie.
E’-en envy now is mute at Erskine’s grace,
While Hillsborough a Herculesadvances;
Who can cease gazing on Alicia’s face,
Till Blackwood smiles, or FannyBrandling dances.
St. John,—sweet Maynard,—pretty Stanhope glide,
And lively Hill incitinggentle Karr,
Meade and Regina ambling side by side,
In dancing this, are all much on apar.
Oh! now observe, Maude, Littleton, and Brooke,
Flowers so pure, you’d deemfrom heav’n they fell,
While N,—t—n, queen-like in her very look,
Would make a desert bliss,—aheav’n of hell.
[-39-] Desperate rush a band of raw recruits,
With ardent minds, and no regard totime—
I beg their pardon, but they are such brutes,
They must excuse my writing such a line.
Hark! a sound as if from a percussion,
Follow’d by piercing shrieks, arouseour fears;
Chaperons rise alarm’d, and dread concussion—
A prostrate beauty isdissolv’d in tears.
Think not the prospects of the night are turned,
For a bright vision glancesin the ring;
No sooner is he seen, than all are spurn’d,
They seem his subjects,—heappears their king,
* * * in whom the gift of dancing lies,
For graceful ease none can with him compare,
' Swift as an arrow fromthe shaft he flies'-—
Envied by men, and worshipp’d by the fair.
See him, like the forked lightning flashing,
No ear can catch the sound ofhis footfall,
Down the room the gallant * * * dashing,
The pride of Almack’s—darling of a ball.
All things at length must cease, and so must this;
I’ll end what bumpkinscall the gallopade;
Sweet unmeant speeches pass from Miss to Miss,
All go to flirt, drink tea,and lemonade.
[-40-] The galoppe’s ended, so my lay must stop;
As a finale I propose to sing,
(While love—sick beaux, to belles the question pop,)
With loyal heart andvoice—Long live the King!
Some further information relative to an Almack’s dance, will be gleanedfrom the following lines, which appeared in the ' Court Journal' a fewyears since. It will be seen that particular allusion is made to one of those' falling' occurrences, to which I have referred, as by no meansuncommon on the slippery floor of Willis’s large room. The lines are headed
A SCENE AT ALMACK S.
Countess Lieven
Oh! let me sing the 'sprightly gallopade,'
Which seems so easy, but which is so hard,—
At least to dance it well. I do not mean
To romp it, as, alas! too often seen.
Well may mammas and chaperons then exclaim,
'Why, what a dance! ‘tis really quite a shame
To suffer it !' but no—I mean the elide,
With which the graceful Danischwild doth glide
So smoothly o’er the boards. Here let me tell
The sad mishaps, which Wednesday last befell
Some young aspirants for the 'galoppe’s' fame,
At Almack’s ball—but whom? I must not name.
[-41-] One round the room his partner safely bears,
While one his ancient war-cry thinks he hears—
'Charge, Chester! charge !' He did at such a pace,
(Against the ropes,) that falling on his face,
Quite stunned the hero lay upon the ground,
His hapless partner too, some gather round;
While murmurs from the lips of many a beau,
' Alas! that such a man should fall so low
But while the music in a lively strain
Strikes up, and dancing recommenced—again
It ceased, that two more might be raised
From the glib floor, which often they had praised
For being 'smooth and slippery like glass.'
Ah! little did they think how soon, alas!
‘Twould prove their saying—and before
The dancing ceased, upon that very floor
Another couple fell. Then, practise, beaux
Perhaps you may improve, perhaps—who knows?
Mind, ere you go again to Almack’s ball
To gallope well, like some, else not at all!
Almack's Dance Hall
In reference to the above, the following lines were written, under the headof an
ANSWER TO THE SCENE AT ALMACK’S.
Ye spiteful tongues, who deem it well
To speak the luckless fate of those who fell
At Almack’s glitt’ring hall,—O! give their due
To all! and sing the triumph of the gallant two
[-42-] Who fell, only triumphantly to rise,
Regardless of the smiles of gazing eyes.
No right, indeed, had envious lips to say,
'Upon the floor' the fallen C—st—r lay,
For lightly springing from the ground,
His trembling partner bearing round,
Again he braved the gallopade,
By all allowed to be so hard.
Not so the waltzers—they, (0 thoughtless crew
Along the slipp’ry boards their way pursue
Till careless of each other’s headlong course,
The couples meet with stunning force— Their balance lost, down, down theforemost go!
Four prostrate lie! one luckless belle below!
Nor could their fallen spirits soar
Like some ! for they could dance no more!
And, C—st—r, had you staid to see their fall,
Well might you say,—' Waltz well! or not at all !'
The gallopade and the waltz are now the only things danced at the Almack’sballs. I have heard the question asked, why is it so? I have also, let me add,heard it said, in answer to the question, that it is because that if new danceswere to be introduced, it would have the effect of 'thinning thefloor,' inasmuch as noblemen and others could not 'go throughthem.' To be sure, there would remain another [-43-] alternative: they might goagain and get steps from their French dancing-masters; but that alternativewould be a troublesome one, and the class of persons who frequent Almack’slike to be put to as little trouble as possible. The waltz, therefore, though soseverely condemned by every person of moral feeling, and even by persons—witness Lord Byron—whose notions of morality are by no means strict, is thefavourite dance at Almack’s.
The number of members of Almack’s is between 700 and 800. The largestattendance ever known on any one occasion was about 650; which is a number muchtoo great for the size of the room. The average attendance is 500. This was thenumber present at the concluding ball of last season. It was a fancy ball. Someidea will be formed of one of these balls by the following account of theclosing one in July last, drawn up by a gentleman who has witnessed many suchsplendid scenes
'Wednesday night closed the series of these [-44-] splendid balls for theseason. As announced, it was a fancy dress ball, and it was of a very brilliantdescription; about 500 of the nobility and gentry were present.
'The ladies-patronesses entered the ballroom at an early hour, attiredin most splendid costumes, and the display of brilliants we never saw surpassed,even at a birth-day drawing-room. The Marchioness of Londonderry wore abrilliant diadem with bandeaux of the same costly jewels en coiffure: atunic of white tulle, embroidered in silver, and a dress of rich white satin,embroidered to correspond; a ceinture of costly brilliants. Countess Cowper worea head-dress of great magnificence, composed of ruby-coloured velvet, the frontedged entirely with diamonds and enclosing four brilliant stars, composed ofdiamonds of great magnitude. The Countess Brownlow, Lady Willoughby D’Eresby,and the other ladies-patronesses, were also attired in most magnificent dresses.
'The ball-room was thrown open at ten [-45-] o’clock, illuminated by aprofusion of wax-lights, the orchestra tastefully ornamented with garlands offlowers, and the tout ensemble was splendid. The majority of the companyappeared in fancy dresses, national costumes, and naval and military uniforms.Included in the company were several foreigners of rank; amongst the ladies whomade their debut the Princess Galitzin and the Princess Wittycapstein werenoticed particularly from the splendour of their costumes and personalattractions,
'At 11 o’clock, dancing commenced to the music of Collinet’s finequadrille band, led by Nadaud, and including Tolbecque, Remy, Rhode, Hatton,&c., from the King’s Theatre. Muzard’s quadrilles, ' L’Eclair,' Micheline,' and 'La Tete de Bronze,' were finely played,as also the favourite waltzes, 'Le Remede contre le Sommeil,' andothers by Strause. A gallopade terminated the dancing, and 'God save theKing' closed the balls for the present season.
[-46-] 'It was after five o’clock next morning before the company hadretired.
Amongst the company were—
Princes—Galitzin and Wittycapstein.
Princesses—Wittycapstein and Galitzin.
Marquisses—Douglas and De Somery.
Marchionesses—Londonderry and De Salsa.
Earls—Sandwich, Falmouth, Beauchamp, Clonnie-], and March.
Countesses—Brownlow, Mansfield, Beauchamp, Chichester, Norbury, Rosse,Oxford, and Cowper.
Lords—Palmerston, Grimston, Ranelagh, Brabazon, Alford, Ridsdale, Loftus,A. Loftus, W. Lennox, F.
Beauclerk, Combermere, Dalmeny, Powerscourt, Bridport, Earlsfort, Maynard,A. Paget, H. Vane, Foley, and Leveson.
Ladies—Willoughby D’Eresby, John Russell, Georgiana Russell, C. Cavendish, Hardy, St. John, Gossett,
A. Arden, H. Mitchell, G. Fane, Beauchamp Proctor, C. Murray, E. Murray, B.Codrington, A. Poulet Dillon, E. Fielden, Rendlesham, De Clifford, Pringle,
Quintin, Ashbrook, Dudley Stuart, Dynevor, M. Cotes,
Hatherton, Knightly, B. Palk, B. Smythe, M. Pelham,
A. Pelham, Gage, F. Bentinck, S. Kerr, Mildmay,
Strutt, C. Dundas, H. Toler, A. Parsons, Scott (2),
Brom-]ey, Blackwood, Trollope, and Ponsonby. Barons —Litzenhern and WedelFedherg. Foreign Counts—Henri de Castella, G. Shovalofl
[-47-] 'Sets of quadrilles were formed in the course of the evening, by—
TheHon. Spencer Cowper, with the Hon. Miss Maynard.
The Hon. James Howard, with the Hon. Miss Cotton.
The Marquis of Douglas, with Miss Strachan.
The Earl of March, with Miss Codrington.
The Hon. C. Forester, with Miss Beauclerk.
The Hon. W. Ashley, with Miss F. Beauclerk.
A. Esterhazy, Seckendriff, Plessen, Stanislaus, Kos kiowski, Jules Koskiowski,D’Ugglass, and Shovaloff.
Sirs—H. Willoughby, B. Codrington, E. Cust, W. B. Proctor, C. Knightly, F.Domville, F. Trench, R. Gordon, W. Brabazon, C. Des Voeux, and E. Cust.
Honourable Messieurs - Cole, C. Cavendish, R. Pe.. tre, C. Berkeley, W. Ashley,Granvllle, Berkeley, C. Forester, Thellusson, C. Edwards, G. Scott, J. How.. ard,and S. Montagu.
Honourable Mesdames—Petre, Ponsonby, Vansit.. tart, L. Stanhope, W. Ashley,John Gage, G. Berke.. ley, Tollemache, Law, and Thellusson.
Honourable Misses—Willoughby, Somerset (2), St. John, Rice (2), B. King,Mitchell, Cotton, Dillon, Thellusson, Flower, Maude, Littleton, Gage (2), Hood,G. Kinnaird, Maynard, &c.
[-48-] 'The two latter young ladies wore elegant costumes, as Spanish FlowerGirls.'
Almack S Beau Brummell
Perhaps there is no instance on record in the history of the world, of suchan assemblage of beauty as is exhibited at the most numerously attended balls atAlmack’s. At drawing rooms and queen’s levees there may be more of the fairsex present; but then rank alone is the qualification for admission to these;while the resolution adopted by the ladies-patronesses of Almack’s, of notadmitting more than three of a family to their balls, affords them an excuse forexcluding any persons they think fit. And they generally do make a point ofpreferring beauties to 'horrid creatures.' In fact, however muchthey may differ on other matters, they are quite unanimous in this, that'quizzes'-—which translated into more intelligible English, meansugly girls—are by all means to be kept out of Almack’s. I need not add thatthe intrinsic charms of the female frequenters of Almack’s are greatlyheightened by their splendid dresses and the magnificent appearance of the room.
[-49-] Of these dresses I say nothing, because I cannot describe them. That is notin my way. Judging from the specimen which Mr. W., the author of a late popularwork, afforded of his abilities in describing ladies’ costumes, in the case ofsome of our female nobility, there is no doubt he would excel in 'pencilling'the ladies’ dresses at Almack’s, I, however, have not the honour of beingMr. W., nor have I the happiness of possessing his talents——not certainly,at least, in this particular department of literature. I therefore contentmyself—I must do so—with saying, that altogether the scene is, indeed,perfectly dazzling: to foreigners who have seen nothing of the kind it issometimes quite overpowering. Provincial papers in reviewing. the Annuals,usually say, that the contents, both in poetry and prose, are all so mentorious that they do not know 'which to select:' I have oftenthought that young noblemen and others who maybe contemplating 'amatch' must be pretty much in the same predicament when examining thefemale 'contents' of Almack’s on [-50-] one of the ball nights. They areall beautiful, as the same journalists say. If there were only a sprinkling ofbeauties, as is the ease in most miscellaneous assemblages of women, in thehigher as well as in the humbler walks of life, then a male candidate formatrimonial bliss would have little difficulty in making his choice: but how areyou to make up your mind where there are, perhaps, a couple of hundredmarriageable ladies before you, all lovely—so lovely —so equally lovely,that you cannot for the life of you say which is the loveliest! If the assstarved between the two bundles of hay, owing to his not being able to decidewhich had the preferable claim on his stomach, is it to be wondered that apoor young fellow who meditates matrimony, should hesitate when he sees twohundred eligible ladies before him, whose personal claims are so equallypoised? He feels precisely in the situation of Macheath in the 'Beggar’sOpera' of Gray. He ejaculates to himself, 'How happy could 1 be witheither,— were the other dear charmers away!' I could ne-[-51-]ver find anyexcuse for Lord Eldon doubting for years as to how he should decide certainChancery cases which came before him: had his lordship come to Almack’s tochoose a wife, II should not have i1uarrelled with him had he doubted tilldoomsday. Almack’s, I fear—and I do not wonder at it—will have to answerfor making many a man a bachelor for life, who, perhaps, had he never set footin it, would, like most other men, have sobered himself down in wedlock. Thescene has bewildered him: he did not know which of the beauties to choose, andtherefore made no choice at all. He admired them all a great deal too much to dothe others an injustice by 'buckling with one.'
You would suppose from the soft and smiling countenances you see everywherearound you, that there were nothing but simplicity and happiness in the bosomsof all present. Could you read those bosoms, whether of old or young, you wouldcome to a very different conclusion. The mothers and chaperons dressed, as oneof the Misses Beauclerks would say, in their 'regula-[-52-]tion' satin robes,with their velvet or crape hats, 'ornamented' with waving plumes offeathers, are severally putting their ingenuity to the rack to 'hook'some eider son with a title and a good rent-roll for their 'loves' ofdaughters, or for girls committed to their charge. These antiquated ladies,with 'rouged faces and false frontlets,' have, it must be admitted, avery difficult game to play. They have not only to get 'the girls'in the way of the 'prizes,' but they have to keep them out of the wayof the detrimentals. Their minds, from the moment they enter the ball-room tothe time of quitting it, are occupied with the one thought of how the evil maybe avoided and the good attained. Their pleasure or pain, therefore, dependsentirely on how far they fancy they succeed or fail in this great object.Perhaps they see some rival mamma, or chaperon, supplanting them; their envy andmortification in that case are indescribable. If they are successful inentangling in their meshes some 'suitable' youth, then they areenvied by others in their turn. I [-53-] wish it were possible to see what bitteranimosity, what deadly dislike towards each other, two rival mothers orchaperons can conceal under a fair exterior. But besides these sources ofuneasiness and anxiety to those elderly ladies who have 'lovelycreatures' on their hand at Almack’s, and are desirous of transferringthe burden to some elder unmarried son, there are a thousand little things whichare unknown to all but themselves. To get a conspicuous place in the ball-roomin which to station themselves— a place at which young Miss may display hercharms to advantage, is often no easy matter. Care is to be taken that the ladybeside which 'my daughter' sits be not dressed in such a way as toimpair the effect of her personal attractions. 'My dear,' said theMarchioness of Gardenstown, on the last night but one of Almack’s lastseason, just as Miss was pointing out to 'mamma' a particular placeat which she thought they might be comfortably seated; 'My dear, you mustnot sit beside that horrid old creature, the Duchess Dowager of Longhride; shewears [-54-] such a profusion of pink and yellow, that it will make you look sopale.' 'Jemima, my love, why don’t you show a little more animationin dancing with Lord Budget,' said the Countess of Leuchars, on a lateoccasion, to her second daughter, just as she had re-seated herself afterquitting the floor. If 'my love' be seen speaking to a detrimental,'mama,' or the lady who plays chaperon, is within a few removes ofhysterics. But we shall never be able to form any idea of the sources of miserythere are to those who have young ladies to dispose of, even in Almack’s—allhappy as the former appear to be —until we are favoured with a faithful mentalautobiography of some intelligent chaperon.
With regard to the young ladies, again, who are to be seen at Almack’s,there is immeasurably more misery among them than the superficial observerwould believe. One who does not look below the surface would infer from theirsmiling faces, the lightness of their step in the dance, and the general gaietyof their appearance, that if there be happiness in the world [-55-] they must be thepossessors of it. Could those who think so prevail on any half dozen of them togive a candid statement of their feelings, from the time they entered Willis’sRooms until the coach was called, they would see how far they were wide of thereal state of the case. None but young misses themselves can form any conceptionof the misery which, on such occasions, is caused to them by seeing attentionspaid by the male sex to their rivals. A single look or smile from the object ofa young lady’s affections to some other young lady, is like plunging adagger into the bosom of the former. It is also a prolific source of misery toyoung ladies when they see families of distinction paying more attention to someof their acquaintances than is paid to themselves. It is well known in certaincircles that one young lady has almost broken her heart because an acquaintancewas repeatedly asked to dance by noblemen of consideration, while she wassuffered to occupy a seat by her mother’s side the whole night. For one younglady to hear the charms of another [-56-] young lady, with whom she is on visiting termswarmly praised, is of all punishments the worst you could inflict. It may be,again, that 'the loved one' is not among the number of noblemen andgentlemen present and that her mind is wandering in foreign climes after theobject of her affections. What is Almack’s, with all its glitter and glare, tosuch a person? It is no better than a wilderness. To her ears the music has nocharms; the dance no attractions. She has no sympathy with those around her. Shewould feel herself as much in society among an equal number of those ‘composition’ladies who grace a hairdressers window. The severe remarks which young ladiesmake on each other at Almack’s sufficiently prove how unhappy some of them arewhile there. There is a malignity in some of these remarks, which one might vainsearch for elsewhere, and which painfully contrasts with the lovely countenancesand snow-like bosoms of those who make them. I once heard the Rev. Thomas Dale,a poet poet as well as divine, [-57-] say, that there is many a bosom encased in silksand satins which is as hard as the very stones of the street on which theparties tread. Could the rev, gentleman inspect the bosoms of the beauties ofAlmaek’s, he would find too many proofs of the justness of his observation.
But this is an ungrateful topic, and therefore I will dwell on it no longer.Four o’clock is the usual hour at which the ball begins to break up; but thedance is often prolonged till five. In June and July the sun sometimes shinesinto the ballroom, and impairs the effect of the artificial lights which shoneso brilliantly throughout the night. Poor, indeed, is the appearance of theselights, when they have to compete with their rising rival of the east; andequally poor is the appearance of the beauties who remain till so late anhour, compared with what it was while darkness was over the face of the earth,and the profusion of lights in the ball-room shone with undiminished splendour.The rosy hues which, hut a few hours before mantled their cheeks, are now, as agifted authoress, in a poetical piece of [-58-] exquisite beauty, says when speaking ofthe effects of death, 'fled like fancy’s dream.' Now thecountenances of the fair are, to use the phraseology of an old Scotch song,'pale and wan.' The lingering beauties themselves have not only lostall colour, but all animation; they are little better than so many lifelessstatues; Nor does their dress appear to the same advantage as before; one soondiscovers many little blemishes in their finery, which the glare of thewax-lights only served to conceal. It is bad policy for young ladies to remainlonger at Almack’s, or at any other ball, than four o’clock in the morning.They may rely upon it, that no one ever fell in love with them after that hour.I appeal to the married ladies who have been to Almack’s, whether theirhusbands proposed to them after the hour of four o’clock in the morning. Notone, I am certain, could answer me in the affirmative. If the truth were known,I doubt not it would be found that many a young lady has dissolved the spellwhich had before bound her lover to her, by allowing him [-59-] to see her faded charmsafter four in the morning. A beauty 'fagged to death,' as young ladiesthemselves say, by the fatigues of dancing and the want of sleep, is in a muchmore unfit condition for being seen, though in her ball-dress, than she would bein her morning’s dishabille.
Such is Almack’s. And is this the place— the far-famed place—some onewill say, of which we hear so much, but whose proceedings are enshrouded in somuch secrecy? It is indeed. And it is to gain admission to this place, that suchgreat and anxious efforts are made by so many families. I stated in thebeginning of the chapter, that the importance of Almack’s arises from thesupreme power it exercises over the world of fashion. It will be asked, how camea half-dozen ladies to acquire the power of making or unmaking whole families bya single word, just as their caprice may dictate? Like all other unlimitedsovereignties, it was of gradual growth. It began, as before mentioned, by fourladies starting, nearly a century since, a sort of female club. The aristocracyof that period became [-60-] members of the association; and the decisions of thedirectresses, or committee of management, were acquiesced in. As the number ofmembers increased, they became more and more particular as to the persons theyadmitted. Other ladies-patronesses of distinction, succeeded the originators ofAlmack’s, and they by degrees assumed new powers, the exercise of which wassubmitted to by the higher classes. In this way Almack’s has risen to itspresent importance and weight in the fashionable world, no one ever having madea successful attack on the administration of its affairs. It is a despotismwhich fills some of the highest families in the kingdom with fear and trembling.There are thousands whose joy at its overthrow would be unbounded; but stillevery one shrinks from the idea of an open and vigorous effort to accomplish sodesirable an object.
It has been the fate of Almack’s to be attacked from all quarters. I havespoken of the abuse heaped on the institution, and on the ladiespatronessesfor the time being, by those who [-61-] have been refused admission. The attacks ofsuch parties are natural enough. The fox pronounced the grapes to be sour, whenhe could not reach them. But what is surprising is, that a work which, fornearly a quarter of a century, has been the strenuous defender of everythingaristocratic, should make a dead set at an institution the most thoroughlyexclusive that ever existed in this country. Who could ever have believed thatsuch a passage as the following could by possibility have found its way into the'Quarterly Review?' Yet so it is. It appeared a few months since inthat journal, and went the round of the newspapers
'The rise of Almack’s (an exclusive fashionable dancing assembly atthe west end of London) may serve to illustrate the mode in which this sort ofempire was consolidated. A few pretty women, not in the highest rank of thenobility, met at Devonshire House to practise quadrilles, then recently importedfrom the Continent. The establishment of a subscription ball was suggested, towhich none but the very elite [-62-] were to be admissible; the subscription to be low,with the view of checking the obtrusive vulgarity of wealth. The fancy took, andwhen it transpired that the patronesses had actually refused a most estimableEnglish duchess, all London became mad to be admitted; exclusion was universallyregarded as a positive loss of caste, and no arts of solicitation were leftuntried to avert so horrible a catastrophe. The wives and daughters of ‘theoldest provincial gentry, with pedigrees traced up to the Heptarchy, have beenseen humbling themselves, by the lowest acts of degradation, to soften theobdurate autocratesses. The fancy has gradually abated, and the institution isnow tottering to its fall; but its origin is worth recording, as a ludicrousphenomenon in the progress of society.'
Had any one seen this paragraph in the course of its journeyings round thenewspaper press, without the appendage 'Quarterly Review' to it, hewould have at once concluded that it must have originally graced the columns of'The [-63-] Poor Man’s Guardian,' 'Cleave’s Police Gazette,' or someother of the then unstamped. 'The Quarterly,' however, in its anxietyto destroy Almack’s, falls into one or two misstatements. It is not correctto say that it is now tottering to its fall. The number of members, which, as Ihave before stated, is between 700 and 800, is greater than at any formerperiod, and the thing is carried on with as much spirit as ever. The sameanxiety to obtain admission still exists, and it is those only who have beenunsuccessful in their applications, who endeavour to cry the institution down.The probability is, that the attack in question by 'The Quarterly,'emanates from some such disappointed party.
Their high mightinesses, the ladies-patronesses, have inflicted a world ofpain on thousands of individuals, and have made whole families miserable forlife by their arbitrary and harsh decrees. The poor African slave does not quailand tremble more under the apprehension of the lash of his tyrant master, thando many of the [-64-] first families in the land at the bare idea of being refusedadmittance to Almack’s. It is no secret—it is not so, at least, in certaincircles— that some time ago an amiable young lady of high birth and excellentconnexions, actually died of a broken heart, because the cabal in King-street,for reasons best known to themselves, rejected her application for asubscription to Almack’s. It is added, that her physician, having ascertainedthe cause of her illness, took occasion to submit the case to the empresses offashion, when one day assembled in full divan, appealing at the same time totheir humanity for the admission of the young lady; but, as the story goes,without effect. The decree had gone forth that she should be excluded, and therewas no reversal.
People talk of monopolies: will any one point me out a monopoly so monstrousas this? It will be asked, why then not abolish it? But how, let me ask inreturn, is that to be done? It is a system far more close, and despotic, andoppressive to the fashionable world, than the political [-65-] system which prevailedbefore the passing of the Reform Bill, was to the people generally; but the evilis, that you cannot well reach it by legislative acts. Strictly speaking, it isone with which Parliament cannot properly interfere; there is no law which itinfringes; it is just as legal as any other society or club which is known toexist But even suppose some legislator, who had himself been shut out fromAlmack’s by the high behests of the half dozen tyrants in petticoats, were tomake a proposition to put it down, how, think you, would such a proposition bereceived in either House? Why, the dandies in both Houses, headed by the Earl ofFalrnouth in the one, and by the Hon. Grantley Berkeley in the other, would riseen masse to put an extinguisher upon it. It would not be entertained for amoment. The ladies-patronesses have too many friends in both Houses for that.
The question again recurs, how is this nuisance in high life to be abated?That is the very question which of all others I cannot answer. I can see noprobability of its being put [-66-] down but by some serious disagreement among theladies-patronesses themselves. It is a scriptural adage, that a house dividedagainst itself cannot stand. Let the genius of discord be fairly introducedamong their ladyships, so as to induce three or four of them to resign at once,and you put an immediate extinguisher on Almack’s. I see no other probableway by which the thing can be done.
Since the above was written, the name of the Countess of Lichfield has beenadded to the list of ladies-patronesses, again making the number seven.
[nb. grey numbers in brackets indicate page number, (ie. where new page begins), ed.] |
Almack's Voucher
A suite of assembly rooms in King Street, St. James's (London), built in 1765 by a Scotchman named Macall, who inverted his name to obviate all prejudice and hide his origin. Balls, presided over by a committee of ladies of the highest rank, used to be given at these rooms; and to be admitted to them was as great a distinction as to be presented at Court. The rooms were afterwards known as Willis's, from the name of the next proprietor, and used chiefly for large dinners. They were closed in 1890
Almack's London
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