Hello darlings!
How familiar are you with Beau Brummell?
I'd heard of him through cultural references, but it turns out I didn't know much about him at all! I'm currently writing my book about alternative dress, and as a leader of fashion in the early 19th century I thought I'd do some research into him.
All information is from 'The Life and Times of Beau Brummell' by Carlo Maria Franzero, 1958 (accessed through the Internet Archive), unless otherwise stated. See the end of the post for sources.
Early Life
George 'Beau' Brummell was born on June 7th 1778. His grandfather was a valet and his family was thoroughly middle-class, a fact that he tried to obfuscate when he was older, attempting to give off the air of a man born into wealth.
He was educated at Eton, where he earned the nickname 'Buck' because of the fastidiousness of his dress. In 1793 he graduated to Oxford which, at the time, ‘was a place for social training rather than a preparation for scholarship.’
In the same year, he met the Prince of Wales who would later prove to be one of his most important acquaintances- he was 15, the Prince was 31. The Prince was impressed by the young man and offered him a place in his regiment.
A year later on the 17th June 1794 he joined the 10th Hussars, the Prince’s own regiment. He had no desire to be a soldier, but it allowed him to enter the right social circles, and as a bonus the uniform was very becoming!
In 1795 his father died and he came into his inheritance. It was not a small sum, but it was paltry in comparison to the other officers, many of whom were the sons of lords and inheritors to vast estates. He left the army after finding out they were going to be transferred to Manchester, and the prince would not be joining them.
As a young man, he had an 'air of impudence [that] was to remain on his face for ever as the imprint of the gods.’ As Carlo Maria Franzero decribes him:
‘He was not particularly handsome: he was fair, almost red-haired, with a lofty brow, a thin sharp nose which he carried much in the air, his lips slightly compressed, his clear eyes of an indefinable shade'
But he was well-proportioned and he carried himself with a confidence that made him attractive.
There is not an exact moment recorded in which Brummell earned the nickname 'Beau', but it was sometime around when he moved into No. 4 Chesterfield Street in Mayfair, London. It was here that he gained a reputation and became a prominent member of London society, and within 'two years George Brummell had become the leader of London fashions.’
He became known for his wit and quick remarks, and many call him the Oscar Wilde of his day because of the cleverness of his retorts. Of course, there are only written accounts of his wit, by many memoirs and diaries comment on the fact and give specific examples.
This quick-witted thinking could be attributed to his love of reading which gave him ‘...that veneer of being knowledgeable which is, at all times, so much more attractive in a gentleman than the weight of erudition.’ As a consequence, he didn't much care for outdoor pursuits. By all accounts, he wasn't a fan of physical exertion and thus was a poor shot and inexpert rider. Indeed, it ‘was his passionate love of cleanliness that made him object to the prevailing devotion to stables, dog kennels and coachmanship.’
The man never married, and supposedly never fell in love, with Carlo Maria Franzero positing that he was only ever in love with himself. He did, however, have many close connections with various women including the Duchess of Devonshire (played by Keira Knightley in The Duchess, 2008). When she died, he wrote a mournful poem entitled The 'Butterfly's Funeral', inspired by Roscoe's 'The Butterfly's Ball'. He published it anonymously and sold three thousand copies.
Excuse me for transcribing the whole thing, but I can't find a clear copy to link to so I thought I'd post it here.
THE BUTTERFLY'S FUNERAL.
"Oh ye! who so lately were blythesome and gay,
At the Butterfly's banquet carousing away;
Your feasts and your revels of pleasure are fled,
For the soul of the banquet, the Butterfly's dead!
No longer the Flies and the Emmets advance,
To join with their friend in the Grasshopper's dance;
For see his thin form o'er the favourite bend,
And the Grasshopper mourns for the loss of his friend.
And hark! to the funeral dirge of the Bee,
And the Beetle, who follows as solemn as he;
And see where so mournful the green rushes wave,
The Mole is preparing the Butterfly's grave.
The Dormouse attended, but cold and forlorn,
And the Gnat slowly winded his shrill little horn;
And the Moth, who was grieved for the loss of a sister,
Bent over the body and silently kiss'd her.
The corse was embalm'd at the set of the sun,
And enclosed in a case which the Silk-worm had spun;
By the help of the Hornet the coffin was laid
On a bier out of myrtle and jessamine made.
In weepers and scarves came the Butterflies all,
And six of their number supported the pall;
And the Spider came there, in his mourning so black,
But the fire of the Glowworm soon frighten'd him back.
The Grub left his nutshell, to join in the throng,
And slowly led with him the Bookworm along;
Who wept his poor neighbour's unfortunate doom,
And wrote these few lines, to be placed on her tomb: —
EPITAPH.
At this solemn spot, where the green rushes wave,
Here sadly we bent o'er the Butterfly's grave;
'Twas here we to beauty our obsequies paid,
And hallow'd the mound which her ashes had made.
And here shall the daisy and violet blow,
And the lily discover her bosom of snow;
While under the leaf, in the evenings of spring,
Still mourning his friend, shall the Grasshopper sing."
Dandyism
‘He did only one thing- an entirely useless thing, many people would say- he invented a new fashion.’ ~Carlo Maria Franzero
At the end of the 18th century, there was a revolution in men's dress, the 'Great Male Renunciation' (2). At this point in time, refinement in men's dress was lacking, especially when compared to men's dress in the previous century. The extravagant Macaronis (named thus because they had completed the Grand Tour and visited Naples) had gone out of fashion thanks to the French Revolution.
Menswear floundered in this transitional stage, torn between the extravagance of the Prince of Wales (soon to be Prince Regent) who spent extortionate amounts on clothing:
‘The prince of Wales had, since his youth, assumed the position of leader of fashion, but the results were far from satisfactory.’
And the lazy dress of the Whigs, the leading political party at the time. Brummell found 'a course middle-way between the extravagance of the Prince himself and the utter neglect prompted by the eccentricites of Fox.’
‘The days when a man of quality was recognisable by his dress had ended with the French Revolution. It was Brummell’s genius to reveal to men that a man in plain clothes could walk as a king.’
Against popular belief, Brummell took less interest in clothing than is assumed. His true passion lied in precision of dress.
Brummell disliked sharing his fame with his tailors, believing that it was he himself who invented this new fashion. As Carlo Maria Franzero writes: ‘He created his own legend, and imposed it upon the world. Probably not one-tenth of that legend was true; but it was believed as gospel, and it still survives today.’
It's said that ‘his dressing-room was like an artist’s studio’, and there are many fantastic stories of his eccentricities. That his hair was cut by three different people, one for the front, one for the temples and one for the back. That it took him a couple of hours to wash, and after shaving her would pluck out any errant hairs using tweezers and a dentists mirror. And that his gloves were made by two different men, one for the fingers and another for the thumbs.
‘It was said that Brummell lived for the art of dressing. It was said that every day he spent long hours in his dressing-room; that his morning toilet was a most elaborate affair; that he was never guilty of déshabillé; that he treated his dressing as a cult or a profession and, like a true man of business, he devoted the best and earliest hours of his day to his toilet.’
Brummell's dress revolved around simplicity and cleanliness. He changed his shirt three times a day to make sure sure it was fresh, and when he visited people's homes a sedan chair was brought to the foot of his staircase and he would be carried right into the hall of the person he was visiting, ensuring that he was immaculate upon arriving.
For morning dress he wore a blue coat and buff-coloured waistcoat, pantaloons and hessian boots. For evening dress, a blue coat and white waistcoat, black pantaloons which opened at the bottom and closed using buttons and loops, striped silk stockings and an opera hat.
It's quite a simple style of dress, especially when compared to the elaborate macaronis or the Prince's style at the time. But Brummell 'disposed for ever of those who mistake eccentricity for elegance’ and famously coined the phrase ‘to be really elegant you must not be noticed.’
His infamous innovation was that of the cravat; at the time, the 'stock' was a lump of cloth tied around the neck, heavy at the front and clinging to the back of the neck (4).
Brummell heavily starched his neckcloth and elaborately tied it to give it an air of lightness and sophistication.
‘The first time Brummell appeared with his starched neckcloth it created a sensation. Nothing else was talked of for days in fashionable circles.’
One of the stories that's most well known about him is the number of cravats he went through every morning in order to achieve perfection: ‘Now and then Robinson the valet would come downstairs carrying over his left arm a score of cravats: “Our failures,” he would say, smiling, and disappear through the pantry.’
‘History came to call him the Prince of Dandyism; but the term Dandy suggests vulgarity.’
Brummell himself would have resented being called a dandy, with what dandyism has come to be associated with; extravagance and overindulgence. He should be known by an entirely different epithet; he is simply 'Beau'.
It is of my opinion that there's a dandy of such note born every every century: I have already mentioned Oscar Wilde in this post, and in this century I would posit Zack Pinsent to have claimed the title, if he wouldn't object.
Ruin
I won't write extensively on this as I don't relish in the decline of Beau; in 1807 Brummell became president of a prestigious club ‘Watier’s’ and, unbeknownst to him, this was the beginning of the end.
He had achieved a level of fame that many people have succumbed to, and believed himself to be impervious. He and the Prince fell out and Brummell would mock both him and his wife (Mrs Fitzherbert) openly, even after he had ascended to become Prince Regent.
‘Brummell was to the Prince was Petronius had been to Nero. The Emperor liked Petronius immensely, but was jealous of his supreme elegance and the wit that he could not equal.’
Napoleon fell in April of 1814, and the return of the soliders brought heavy gambling. Brummell, who had normally been so careful with his lower-than-average funds, partook and lost an enormous amount of money.
It's said that he gave away a sixpence which had been given to him by a gypsy, with the promise that as long as he looked after it he would have good luck; he never found it again.
In debt and fallen out of favour with his social circles who, if they had been in good standing might have bailed him out, he escaped to Calais.
He died slovenly and penniless in France at the age of 61.
~
Despite the unfortunate details of his demise, there is no doubt of the impact George 'Beau' Brummell had on society at the turn of the 19th century.
After researching him so extensively, I realise that I should despise him. He played a large part in the simplification of men's dress in the 19th century, leading to the bland and uniform styles of the Victorian-era that still persist today in the colour and shape of men's suits. But I cannot find it in me to hate him; anyone who creates such a legend of themself has a place in my heart. Life is often more boring than fiction, so to turn yourself into fiction is the greatest achievement of all, in my opinion.
This post greatly simplifies the Beau's life, of course, and if you wish to read more you can find 'The Life and Times of Beau Brummell' by Carlo Maria Franzero, either in book form or on the internet archive.
Until next time,
Aisha x
Sources:
1. 'The Life and Times of Beau Brummell' by Carlo Maria Franzero
4. WOW ~ Word of the Week ~ Colquarron – Obstinate Headstrong Girl … author Renée Reynolds (wordpress.com)
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