Being Presented to the Queen

Despite what Regency authors often write in their  novels, it was not a requirement that any one be presented to the queen before dancing at Almack's or being considered "out." Some of the patronesses of Almack's felt they were more exclusive than court, giving and denying permission almost at whim only young ladies of spotless character and connections. A girl could have any number of seasons before being presented to the queen. Some never were presented until after they married. Of course, not attending a drawing room could imply that if the family had money problems; those gowns combining the feathers and hoop skirts of the Georgian era with the high waists of the Regency era thereby making a lady's figure look as terrible as possible were expensive and couldn't be worn anywhere else!

Only the daughters of peers would have been presented at Court when the queen held her "drawing room" for that specific purpose. There's a great book about this topic, "GILDED BUTTERFLIES: The rise and fall of the London season" by Philippa Pullar. By the way, the term debutante is Victorian, so it was never used during the Regency period.

The girls could attend social gatherings before being presented. When a young lady was about the right age, normally about 17 or 18, her mother sent in a notice to the Chamberlain that she wished to present her daughter at the next “drawing room.” The chamberlain sent her the date and a list of requirements as for dress and number of feathers.

In Gilded Butterflies, Pullar says that court required feathers as soon as society decided they didn't want them any more. The girl went with her mother on the proper day. The queen kissed the daughters of the peers. She often spoke to them as well. All brides of peers and men who attended court had to be presented as well, even if they had been presented before marriage. Also the wives of the diplomatic corps were presented.

April 30.1812 “The Queen held a drawing room at St. James's Palace. It being the first which her Majesty has held since the King's birth day in 1810, and there having been no Court for the ladies during a lapse of nearly two years, great preparations were made by the higher ranks for their appearance on this occasion.”

Though Queen Charlotte scheduled drawing rooms fairly frequently up until 1811, after that date they were irregular and spread apart. The sponsor-- the female who was sponsoring the girl -- the sponsor had to have already been presented herself, of course-- inquired as to the next drawing room and asked permission to present the girl ; she had her name and the name of the girl listed with the Lord Chamberlian's office. This office would send out the invitations and the information as to what people were supposed to wear to those who had requested permission for a presentation. At the presentation the girls went forward as called out. She knelt to the queen. The queen kissed the daughters of peers on the forehead but gave her hand to be kissed by anyone else. The girl then stood and backed away from the queen. She could not look behind her and could not turn her back on the queen. Then they usually went home.

Queen Caroline never gave drawing rooms. It was always Queen Charlotte who did it until her death in 1818. Then the Prince Regent/George IV had his sisters hold the drawing rooms.

Regency Duels

In England, dueling was part of a long-standing code of honor, far beyond a mere tradition. Gentlemen took their dueling very seriously; they would rather die than be dishonored.

Does your heart go pitter patter just at the sound of that? Mine sure does. How many man that honorable do you know? Okay, maybe we'd call it misplaced pride, but hey, that was a different world with a different set of rules.

The procedure for issuing a challenge was very specific. A gentleman never challenged a social inferior. For instance, a gentleman of significance with ties to the aristocracy or nobility would never challenge a commoner, such as a blacksmith or a farmer. Also, if there was a significant age difference, the duel would not be extended.

If they were socially equal, or at least similar, the gentleman who was offended would tell the man who’d wronged him that he should choose his “second,” a close friend or family member who would look out for his best interests. If he was really incensed, he might slap him with his glove, but that was considered extreme and beneath gentlemanly behavior, as it was the ultimate insult and probably resulted in a fight then and there.

After the verbal challenge – or perhaps warning would be a better word – was issued, depending on the severity of the offense, the other might have a choice; he could either apologize, or he could accept. Sometimes, the apology would not be accepted, often if there were a third person who’d been wronged.

The next day, supposedly after heads had cooled, the wronged man who wished to duel would send his “second” with a written letter challenging the duel. The other may chose to apologize or accept the challenge. If accepted, he would choose swords or pistols and name the time and the place.

When the allotted day arrived, they met, probably in a remote place where they wouldn’t be caught by the law, and the seconds inspected the weapons to be used. A final opportunity for an apology could be given. If not, the seconds decided if the duel should be fought to (a) first blood, or (b) until one can no longer stand, or (c) to the death. Once that was decided, the opponents dueled and the seconds watched to insure that nothing dishonorable happened.

If one of the duelers becomes too injured to continue, occasionally the second would step in and duel. Sometimes, the seconds were hot-headed and ended up dueling each other as well.

By the Regency Era, dueling was outlawed. However, duels still happened more frequently than many people knew. The problem was, because courts were made up of peers, they were reluctant to charge another peer with murder as a result of a duel. There is a case where one nobleman was charged with murder and tried, but used the defense that his behavior was gentlemanly and honorable, meaning that he acted within the proper code of conduct. He was acquitted by his peers.

As horrible as it sounds to our modern selves, these gentlemen took their honor very seriously, and considered death preferable to living with the label of a coward, a label that would follow them and their families for years.

And, maybe it’s me, but there a certain romance about a gentleman brave enough and protective enough to be willing to risk death defending my honor from another man who’d besmirched it.

A duel is what leads to all the trouble for my hero in my newest book "The Stranger She Married" and causes events he wishes desperately he could change, especially when the duel goes awry and causes pain to an entire family.

I'm sure glad my husband isn't likely to try it...