We’ve talked before about the magical Season in London, when
a young lady made her debut in polite society for the first time. Once you were
“out,” you could attend balls, hold parties at your own house, and, if you were
lucky, visit Almack’s. I recently had cause to dig a little deeper into the
workings of the mighty club, and I was a little surprised at what I found.
Almack’s, as we’ve also discussed, was that bastion of
society often referred to as the Marriage Mart. A club dictated by women was a
novelty in a society that still largely catered to the gentleman. The lady
patronesses of Almack’s determined who was allowed to attend each ball held on
Wednesday nights during the Season.
What surprised me was the entire process. As gleaned from
various sources, some of which are not first-hand, it seems that when a mama
knew she was bringing her daughter to London for the Season, she might write to
a patroness and request vouchers in advance. The patronesses thus had a pretty
good idea of who was going to be out and about that year. But no patroness
would issue vouchers unless she visited the prospective attendee or otherwise
knew that young lady personally. Then the patronesses met together and
discussed potential candidates.
Wouldn’t you have liked to be a fly on the wall at one of
those meetings.
“I met with Miss Charming this week. She is utterly
delightful. We must have her.”
“Tsk—not a bit of it! Her mother is a harridan, and I cannot
like her wardrobe.”
“Oh. Pity. What about Miss Newvoriche? She is polite above
all things.”
Shudder. “No. Her grandfather was a coal merchant.”
Gasp!
And it wasn’t just the ladies who waited with great
trepidation to hear whether they had been chosen. Men too had to be issued
vouchers to attend. And attendance could still be denied even after you’d
received vouchers if your behavior was found lacking for any reason.
There also appears to have been some sort of rule on the
number of people in a single family who could be granted vouchers. Some sources
say two; others three. Vouchers were non-transferrable, meaning that if you
couldn’t go one week you couldn’t just hand your ticket to another person.
I couldn’t help wondering what would happen in a family with
two daughters on the ton in one year
and a socially astute mother. Which daughter would be denied tickets? How would
that make her feel? What might she do to convince the patronesses to change
their minds?
Particularly when attending Almack’s meant everything, even
catching a French spy.
Dropping hints? Guilty. Stay tuned, because later this
month, I’ll tell you more about what Ariadne Courdebas did to earn tickets to
Almack’s after Eloquence and Espionage,
Book 4 in my Lady Emily Capers, debuts on June 22.
I have been looking forward to reading Ariadne's story for some time now. I think the limited number of vouchers per family might have caused mothers not to bring out more than one daughter at a time. Lady Catherine seems shocked that all the Bennet sisters were out. Not that they'd be attending Almacks and I'm sure if Lady Catherine had more than one daughter they would both be out until Anne married or got too old. I will leave Almacks attendance to my sister and sit on the shelf with the other ape leaders and spinsters.
ReplyDeleteAriadne is close to my heart, QNPoohBear, so I'm delighted her story is coming out. And I have noticed that those who sit on the shelf or behind potted palms at balls seem to have the more interesting time in many cases! :-)
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