Almack’s Again: The Marriage Mart

Somewhat to my be- musement, I’ve found myself writing a series of novellas set around that Regency institution, Almack’s Assembly Rooms. Modern readers can certainly understand how Almack’s was the place to be, the most exclusive of exclusive social venues, because that concept is timeless...but there’s one aspect of Almack’s we haven’t discussed before, and I thought it might be interesting to do so.

Almack’s was nicknamed ‘the Marriage Mart’ because it was the place for aristocratic young women and young men (or not so young ones) to go to look over the season’s marital prospects. It was Almack’s very exclusiveness that made it attractive for spouse-shopping: if only persons of a certain social class were allowed within its precincts, then by definition anyone there could be considered “safe” as a potential marriage partner. Watchful parents could relax, knowng that their romantically–minded daughters would not be solicited for the next dance by a shop-clerk or a nouveau-riche City merchant; men would not find their eyes and their fancies caught by an attractive but unsuitable young woman who dropped her aitches and didn’t know how to properly address a duchess or arrange seating at a dinner party.

Sounds kind of...well, cold, doesn’t it? Yes, absolutely, by modern standards of courtship and marriage. But the early 19th century was in flux as far as what marriage was all about.

Up until the rise of Romanticism in the 18th century, marriage was as much a financial transaction as it was about finding a husband or wife...and the wealthier the families, the truer this was. Families considered what other families they wanted to ally themselves with through the marriages of their sons and daughters for reasons of outright monetary gain as well as for less tangible but still enormously important assets like social, economic or political influence. You might decide that you wanted your son to marry the daughter of a family whose political support you sought for your career, or who might bring as part of her dowry land or other assets you coveted. And while you made some attempt to make sure the new couple would be compatible...well, that wasn’t necessarily the first consideration. But as the concept of marrying for companionship and love took hold, it fought for a while with the older view of marriage...and Almack’s was a prime example of that uneasy compromise.

It’s also hard sometimes for Americans to wrap their heads around just how class conscious England was (and still is, to a degree.) We’ve discussed that fact before—just how separately the different social classes lived their lives and the difficulty of moving from one class to another when it dictated everything about you, from how you moved and spoke to your education and expectations in life. Now, think of how that might come into play when looking for a husband or wife...and once again, Almack’s begins to be much more understandable, if not, by our standards, admirable. It’s not so surprising that Almack’s importance faded as class barriers became more fluid with the rise of the middle classes, and by the late 1830s, it had lost almost all its old cachet—not forgotten, but also, for many reasons, not mourned.

Dowering Doddering Dowagers

Whether you’re watching Downton Abbey, reading a novel set in nineteenth century England, or keeping up with the Royals today, sooner or later, you’ll run into a dowager.  Often times, literature and productions show them as silver-haired ladies with a will of iron.  But that wasn’t always the case.

Take the lovely Lady Hascot of my upcoming release The Husband Campaign.  Caro married Lord Hascot, who had a twin brother named John.  When her husband died, John became the new Lord Hascot.  Caro remains Lady Hascot, but once John marries, she is the dowager.  A young, curvaceous, cunning dowager who causes no end of trouble, but that’s a story for another time. 

So, what exactly is a dowager?  The term originally applied to a widow who could apply for dower, or a certain portion of her husband’s estate that would be hers to use while she lived.  So some estates had a dower cottage, a house where the dowager might live after the new title holder moved into the larger house.  Although dower was still legally supported in nineteenth century England, more often families arranged matters of what the wife would inherit before the wedding in marriage contracts.  The term dowager, then, was generally used to distinguish between two ladies whose husbands had held the same title. 

For example, if Lord Whistlewait marries Amelia Peascoat, she becomes Lady Whistlewait.  Let’s say they have a charming son named Horace.  When Lord Whistlewait dies, Horace inherits his father’s title and proposes to his one true love, Constantinople Trubadore.  Dear Connie now becomes Lady Whistlewait, and Horace’s mother becomes the Dowager Lady Whistlewait.

Now, there is some question as to whether the term was ever used to the lady’s face.  Then as now, most women who became dowagers were of a certain level of maturity to which I am currently aspiring.  As you can imagine, not all ladies of such maturity took well to being called a dowager, even behind their backs.  Certainly, if only one of the Ladies Whistlewait was present, there would be no need to mention the term dowager.  Even if the two were together at an event, conversation might easily be arranged to avoid the potentially offensive term.

Could anyone offer a restorative cup of tea while I ponder becoming the Dowager Mrs. Scott?

With this Ring (and your ₤25,000), I Thee Wed

Last week I posted about the intricacies of 19th century England’s monetary system…okay, who remembers what a groat is?

This week, we’ll look at a related topic, one of great importance to a lot of teen girls in the 19th century: dowries.

So what is a dowry?

A dowry (also referred to as a “marriage portion” or just “portion”) is the money or property that a bride brought into her marriage. Families of wealth and property usually started putting aside money for a daughter’s dowry as soon as she was born (it could later be used to support her if she chose not to marry). Often it represented her share of what she would inherit from her parents on their death, but given to her upon her marriage rather than later.

Usually some part of a bride’s dowry was designated to be her settlement, an amount of money or other assets like an allowance allotted to her for her own personal use so that she would have some independent means…because her dowry pretty much became her husband’s property upon their marriage. Until a series of legal bills over the course of the middle and later century changed it, women had almost no rights in marriage—in fact, they had no separate legal existence, had no legal right to money they earned or inherited, could not sign a contract or make a will. The marriage settlement was intended to give her some independent means in case her husband should die unexpectedly or go bankrupt (assets listed in a marriage settlement could not be seized by her husband’s creditors); and she was able to make a will to designate who would inherit those assets (often younger sons, who wouldn’t inherit much otherwise.)

Okay, I know this is getting kind of dry…so let’s talk about the fun part: what having a good dowry meant.

What it meant, of course, was that a girl whose family had money could pretty much marry whom she pleased. Among the aristocracy, a standard dowry between families of equal importance usually ran between ₤10,000 and ₤30,000. If the potential bride and groom were of different social classes and backgrounds, this could change: a dowry for a girl whose father was, say, a factory owner who’d risen from the lower classes and made his fortune could range as high as ₤60,000 or more if she wanted to marry into the aristocracy…and a lot of aristocrats, especially later in the 19th century, were quite willing to “buy” a wealthy wife to shore up shaky family fortunes or provide for a younger son. Even Queen Victoria wasn’t immune to this…she was quite interested in securing an heiress named Daisy Maynard for her son Leopold, but the girl had other ideas and went on to become the Countess of Warwick (and mistress to one of Victoria’s other sons, the Prince of Wales!) By the end of the 19th century, poverty-stricken aristocrats were eagerly seeking out wealthy American brides who might bring as much as ₤500,000 in exchange for a title.

And dowries weren’t necessarily in cash; they could include houses and other real estate, jewelry, art, or pretty much any other asset agreed upon between the two families. Among the working classes a girl’s dowry could simply be the household linens and crockery she’d need to set up house, or perhaps a sewing machine so that she could earn money at home.