Her Ladyship's Guide to the British Season E-Book

Caroline Taggart

• Herausgeber: Batsford
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Seitenzahl: 183

Beschreibung

Great Britain has a long tradition of spectacular seasonal events, parties, pomp and ceremony. But times have moved on since the days of formal manners and dress codes and with many exclusive events now accessible to everyone, it can be tricky to know where to go, what to wear and how to act. Luckily, Her Ladyship is on hand to guide you though the social minefield of the British Season. This practical guide will take you on a tour of all the best events, including Chelsea Flower Show, Glyndebourne Festival, Lord's Test Cricket, The Epsom Derby and Royal Ascot, Wimbledon, Henley Royal Regatta, Glorious Goodwood, Cowes Week and many more. Her Ladyship is always on hand to explain what happens where, giving invaluable advice on dress codes and traditional customs along the way. Insider's tips on getting tickets and what not to miss at each event make this the must-have companion of the Season.

Leseprobe

Her Ladyship’s Guide to

the British Season

Her Ladyship’s Guide to

the British Season

Caroline Taggart

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Even Her Ladyship doesn’t know everything about everything, much as she would like to pretend she does. I certainly don’t and am always grateful to friends who allow me to pick their brains. Special thanks this time to Jill, for excellent tips on Ascot, Henley and not sitting on the ground when you don’t have to; Ros, who really did wear the same hat as Princess Margaret to a Buckingham Palace garden party; Ryan, who knows more about horse racing than most people need to; Gill, for telling me about the Grand Prix; and Rebecca, always a fount of wisdom, particularly about the colour of shoes.

Contents

PART I: THE SEASON PAST AND PRESENT

One

What Is the Season?

Two

What to Wear

Three

How to Behave

PART II: THE SEASON’S EVENTS

Four

March and April

Cheltenham Festival

The Boat Race

The Guineas

A PASTORAL INTERLUDE: PALACE GARDEN PARTIES

Five

May

Chester Festival

Badminton Horse Trials

Chelsea Flower Show

Glyndebourne Festival Opera

Six

June

Eton: the Fourth of June

Royal Academy Summer Exhibition

The Derby

Garsington Opera

Royal Ascot

The Championships

Henley Royal Regatta

A SCOTTISH INTERLUDE

Seven

July

The Lord’s Test

British Grand Prix

Cartier International Polo

The Open Championship

AN IRISH INTERLUDE

Eight

August

Glorious Goodwood

Cowes Week

The Glorious Twelfth

Burghley Horse Trials

Nine

Out of Season

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Braemar Gathering

St Leger

Last Night of the Proms

Wexford Festival

London to Brighton Veteran Car Run

Literary Festivals

Burns Night

Crufts

References and Further Information

Bibliography

Index

PART I

One

WHAT IS THE SEASON?

Ah! – those wonderful parties in town, Season after Season, when we danced until dawn – those long summer afternoons, when we sauntered through the gardens of the great houses that entertained us in those days…

J B Priestley (1894–1984)

Her Ladyship will start by not beating about the bush. For many years – over 150 years, at a conservative estimate – the Season existed to give aristocratic young ladies the opportunity to ally themselves to suitable young men. Yes, girls were presented at court; yes, they went to balls and dinner dances, Royal Ascot and Goodwood; yes, they wore gorgeous dresses and partied till four in the morning, but really what they were doing was looking for husbands.

The idea of girls being presented to royalty to mark their ‘coming out’ into Society at the age of seventeen or eighteen was inaugurated in 1780, when George III gave a ball to celebrate the birthday of his wife, Queen Charlotte, and to raise funds for the London hospital to be founded in her name. (A descendant of that hospital still exists, and until quite recently blue-blooded women paid their respects to its royal benefactress by having their babies there.) By the early nineteenth century being presented at court was an established custom and the girls making their debut had become known as debutantes. ‘Curtseying’ – there was no need to specify to whom – was a part of every debutante’s career until Queen Elizabeth II discontinued the practice in the increasingly egalitarian world of 1958.

Court presentations were surrounded by a code of etiquette as rigid as any whalebone corset. A girl being presented had to be sponsored by a lady, normally her mother, who had herself been presented. It was as simple and as unyielding as that. If the mother was deceased or (perish the thought) divorced, an aunt, grandmother or close friend could take her place. Such a system obviously made it very difficult for outsiders to gain access to it, and the extent to which the ‘Upper Ten Thousand’ of Society intermingled and intermarried only confirmed its exclusivity.

As the growth of industry and trade brought wealth to non-aristocrats, however, and inheritance tax or reckless extravagance took it away from those who had been born with it, money began to speak more loudly: a prosperous merchant’s daughter could marry an impoverished peer and gain access to High Society, if not for herself then at least for her children. Call it broadening the gene pool, call it lowering the tone – either way, even in the nineteenth century, times were beginning to change.

By the twentieth century, a handful of Society matrons with an eye for the main chance supplemented their income by sponsoring the daughters of anyone who was willing to pay. This obviously brought the whole system to the brink of disrepute: as early as 1938 Vogue was describing ‘yammering hordes of social “racketeers” [who] have introduced madness into method and turned a traditional practice into a flourishing industry’. So unexclusive had court presentations become by the 1950s that, in the much-quoted and possibly apocryphal words of the late Princess Margaret, ‘We had to put a stop to it. Every tart in London was getting in.’

In the much-quoted and possibly apocryphal words of the late Princess Margaret, ‘We had to put a stop to it. Every tart in London was getting in.’

QUEEN CHARLOTTE’S BALL

The ball that started it all off is famous for featuring a parade of hand-picked girls in wedding-dress white escorting an enormous birthday cake. It was traditionally held in May (Her Majesty’s birthday was the 19th), though of recent years its organisers have chosen a date in the autumn.

Her Ladyship would at this point like to quash a popular misconception regarding Queen Charlotte’s Ball, by referring her readers to the unchallenged doyenne of social commentators, Betty Kenward, who wrote ‘Jennifer’s Diary’ for Tatler and later Harper’s and Queen for almost 50 years. In her memoir she describes the chosen debutantes pulling the cake ‘with white satin ribbons, right up to the dance floor to where the ball’s President and guest of honour stood in long evening dresses and tiaras’. The guest of honour might be a member of the Royal Family, a visiting foreign royal or the wife of a member of the British peerage. Whoever it was, ‘Jennifer’ observes rather austerely, ‘The Maids of Honour always curtseyed to the two ladies, never to the cake, as I have seen written so often.’

There are those who would say that there were many absurdities about the Social Season, but Her Ladyship is happy to record that curtseying to a cake is not one of them.

The Social year

Indispensable though it was, a girl’s presentation was a small part of the Social Season. Originally linked to the movements of the Royal Family and the workings of Parliament, the Social calendar followed much the same pattern for well over a hundred years. Up to and including the first half of the twentieth century, anyone who was anyone was in London in the spring and early summer, with court presentations normally taking place in May: these few months constituted the Season. Towards the end of July High Society dispersed, initially to seaside resorts such as Brighton and later to the more reliable sunshine of the south of France (see box). Those who preferred tradition to sun-worshipping went next to Scotland for the shooting season that began on the ‘Glorious 12th’ of August. There might follow a few weeks back in London during the autumn – the ‘Little Season’ – after which everyone retired to their country estates for hunting, Christmas and to await the coming of spring. To quote J B Priestley’s The Edwardians (1972), these people may have been known as the ‘idle rich’, but their Social obligations certainly kept them very busy:

It was a dreadful nuisance, of course, but a fellow would have to go down to Cowes for the first week in August, then go up North to shoot the grouse or stalk the deer. A woman invited for a weekend at one of the great houses would have to take several large trunks, and then would have to be changing clothes – and always looking her best – half-a-dozen times a day. A free-and-easy life in theory, in practice it was more highly disciplined that the life of a recruit in the Life Guards.

Priestley was writing as a sardonic outsider, but even those intimately involved in the Season would have had to admit that he was not far wrong.

A NOTE ON SUMMER HOLIDAYS

Fashions change in this area as they do in all other things. There were times – again in the early-to-mid-twentieth century – when members of Society would spend a few weeks every summer in Biarritz, St Tropez or Monte Carlo. Now that Society has been so much infiltrated by ‘new money’, these resorts have, in Her Ladyship’s opinion, become places in which one would not choose to be seen dead. Cannes for the film festival, perhaps; otherwise, a lesser-known Greek island or somewhere in the Caribbean beginning with A (there is quite a choice and the wider world has not yet discovered all of them) would be more exclusive.

There were also times when the opulent luncheons, teas, dinners and suppers that had been eaten every day for months made it desirable to detox – although the word in its modern sense had not been invented – in Baden Baden or another of Europe’s fashionable spas. Nowadays a day at the Sanctuary in Central London or a long weekend at one of the many health-spa hotels within easy distance of the M25 should give the jaded debutante all the relaxation she needs. Her Ladyship, with a lifetime of hard-earned experience behind her, assures her readers that detoxing is perfectly acceptable, even chic. It is when your thoughts turn to rehab that you may have been overdoing it.

Detoxing is perfectly acceptable, even chic. It is when your thoughts turn to rehab that you may have been overdoing it.

The Season itself

From March, then, to July, Society disported itself at an endless succession of balls, parties, concerts and sporting events – and there will be more detail about the sporting events later in the book. Many balls culminated in a hearty breakfast before the exhausted debutantes, their escorts and chaperones were allowed to go home to catch a few hours’ sleep before the whole round began again later the same day. For debutantes it was not so much a question of ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’ as ‘I Was Positively Obliged To’.

These debutantes formed the virginal, white- or pastel-clad core around which the whole Season revolved. Parents who didn’t have a London residence often hired a house-with-ballroom for the Season; in either case they announced their arrival from the country with an advertisement in The Times. This subtly indicated to the initiated – and it was, of course, only the initiated who mattered – that their daughter, whose name was included in the advertisement, was available to receive invitations and would, in due course, be inviting her friends to her own ‘coming out’ ball.

The Season was a masterpiece of organisation for which mothers were largely responsible. Before the daughters were allowed out in public, their mothers made plans and compared notes over a series of lunches. Author Anne de Courcy, writing about the 1939 Season in her book The Last Season (1989), describes the near-desperation for young men among the mothers of marriageable daughters:

Every future hostess had her own address book full of the names of ‘suitable’ (that is, socially, though not necessarily morally or financially, impeccable) bachelors, which she swapped with her best friends and added to if she heard – or indeed overheard – another name. After a few weeks a definitive version of this pool of dancing partners and escorts would have emerged. When a man was on the List, and thus vouched for as matrimonially eligible, he was automatically asked to all the dances, whether or not he was known to the hostess.

One of the duties of these young men – the so-called ‘debs’ delights’ – was, of course, to bring their partners home at the end of the evening. Innocent the girls may have been, but they had sufficient savoir faire to produce their own list of escorts who were considered NSIT – ‘not safe in taxis’.

After the Second World War co-ordination of the schedule was greatly aided by the indefatigable ‘Jennifer’, who kept a list of the girls who were coming out each year and ensured that important balls and parties did not clash (though she herself frequently attended three or four in a single night).

Many of the girls who were presented at court had homes in the country and not all remained in London for the Season: in 1958 over 1,400 girls made their curtsey (an unusually large number, as it had been announced that there would be no more such occasions) but Jennifer’s list included only 231 names. Many coming-out balls were therefore held in the parents’ country houses. The London-based debutantes were invited to a succession of lavish weekend house parties, where thirty people sitting down to dinner was commonplace. Country girls who lived near Cowdray Park or Henley, for example, would time their ball to coincide with the polo or the Regatta, when friends and fellow debutantes would be eager to be in that part of the world. Again, Jennifer’s published lists and freely given private advice were indispensable. The Marriage Mart, as it was known to the irreverent, was a well-oiled, as well as a well-heeled, machine.

The Season’s events

Although court presentations have been a thing of the past for over 50 years, the social occasions that accompanied them continue; many of them maintain their own traditions, which are covered later in the book. Some of the sporting events that became integral to the Season date back to long before debutantes were thought of. James I began racing at Newmarket in the early seventeenth century and it was his grandson Charles II who made this ‘the Sport of Kings’. A generation later – still 70 years before Queen Charlotte’s first ball – Queen Anne instituted Royal Ascot. The first Derby was in 1780, the first Cowes Week in 1826 and the first Henley Regatta in 1839. And they still take place more or less when they have always done – which is, to those not familiar with Society’s strict timetable, within a surprisingly short space of time. The private view of the Royal Academy’s Summer Exhibition, generally in late May, was for a long time the first ‘official’ event of the Season, and no member of High Society would have dreamed of remaining in London after Goodwood in early August. As recently as 1996, The Times commissioned Clement Freud to write a series of six pieces about the Season; he was able to execute the commission between 18th June and 18th July, having visited Royal Ascot, the Lord’s Test, Wimbledon, Henley, the British Grand Prix and the Open (Golf) Tournament.

Her Ladyship cannot resist a slightly acid aside here. In her memoir, ‘Jennifer’ refers to these renowned occasions as ‘the hardy annuals’. She means, of course, ‘the hardy perennials’, but she was being employed for her social acumen rather than her horticultural knowledge.

The Season today

So what does the Season mean today? Fun, certainly: partying and dancing and attending some of the same events your great-great-grandmothers attended; drinking champagne or Pimm’s and dressing in your finest. There are also opportunities to network (as Her Ladyship believes the modern term is), to improve social skills and poise, and to raise money for the many good causes that benefit from charity balls. Much of the rigorous etiquette that surrounded the early debutantes has gone, but there are still rules to be obeyed and dress codes to be followed. Because very few modern girls are brought up with these codes drilled into them from an early age, the next two chapters consider the accomplishments a young lady was once supposed to have and the clothes she was supposed to wear and draw on this information as a guide for the modern debutante. And because the Season is no longer as clearly defined as it used to be, the rest of the book is devoted to Social events that may or may not fall within the purist’s definition of the term. But they are all places where the young and vivacious may go, see and be seen, have a good time and possibly – if that is the way their fancy takes them – find a husband.

A practical note

All the events described in this book have excellent websites (listed on here), which give practical information on such subjects as schedules, buying tickets, wheelchair access and ‘how to get there’. To avoid incessant repetition, this information is given in the individual entries only when Her Ladyship deems it of particular importance or interest. But she would underline the following general tips:

• Book early. Check up to a year in advance when tickets go on sale and whether or not there is some form of ballot (as there is for Wimbledon, for example, and for the Last Night of the Proms).

• If you are driving, remember that what to you is a thrilling day out may well be an annual pain in the neck for local residents. Don’t park over private driveways or block other cars in and try to remember that other people may just want to go to the supermarket, get the chores done and barricade themselves into their houses until you and your companions have gone home.

• Be aware that in the more prestigious enclosures of many events described in this book, the use of mobile phones is specifically banned (and offenders may have their phones confiscated or even be asked to leave). This is not the organisers being stuffy: the sudden noises not only disturb your fellow guests, they could also upset the horses, the players or the caber-tossers. Turn your phone off and leave it off until you are back at the car park or the station.

• Be aware that some events and access to some enclosures are for members or by invitation only. Never, ever, attempt to gatecrash on these occasions: security is tight and at best you will suffer the ignominy of being escorted from the premises. Settle for the less prestigious enclosure or for attending on a less illustrious day, and make a note to extend your circle of acquaintance so that you receive an invitation next year.

Two

WHAT TO WEAR

I have heard with admiring submission the experience of the lady who declared that the sense of being perfectly well-dressed gives a feeling of inward tranquillity which religion is powerless to bestow.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–82)

Once upon a time, but really not as long ago as all that, it would have been absurd for a race meeting or opera festival to advertise a dress code. No one attending – and certainly no one invited to appear in a royal box or ‘premier enclosure’ – would have needed to be told what to wear. Correct dress, like every other aspect of correct conduct, was instilled into a young lady’s head by her mother from the moment she left the nursery. No longer: as we shall see in the next chapter, the emphasis in feminine education gradually moved away from the feminine and towards the educational, and social niceties that had once gone without saying ran a severe risk of going by the board. It is because of this general fall from grace that the organisers of Royal Ascot felt it necessary to revise their dress code for the 2012 meeting: to remind people of what was expected on a formal occasion.

Failing to dress appropriately for the occasion and the time of day would have been – and remains, at such events as the Henley Royal Regatta, Royal Ascot and the Royal Caledonian Ball – a social faux pas of the highest order. The great Duke of Wellington himself was once refused admission to Almack’s for turning up in pantaloons (trousers) rather than the formal evening attire of knee breeches demanded by that exclusive club1.

In Victorian times, a lady of the first rank often had precious little to do, because her army of servants looked after housework, shopping and children. As a result, she had time to change her clothes at least three or four times a day. She also had an enviable wardrobe that allowed her to do so – either purchased from the top fashion houses or, if she was just a small step down from the top of the social ladder, copied from those fashion houses by a dressmaker employed to produce something unique but stylish at a fraction of the cost.