Sex Life in England

COLLECTING

VOLUME

ONE

1

DEBAUCHERIES OF COURT LIFE

I

DEBAUCHERIES OF COURT LIFE

AMONG the factors which have given a certain stamp to the social life of a nation at any time or, at any rate, influenced it to a considerable degree, the first place must be assigned to the so-called high society. In earlier times this society was exclusively of birth and at this period it was almost entirely confined to the life of the court. Since the seventeenth century there has occurred a certain democratization of this distinguished society owing to the reception into its ranks of aristocrats of wealth and also aristocrats of spirit. These three elements comprise what we today designate as high life—the name really pointing to the origin of the condition.

It was this distinguished society which has at all times been the teacher of morals to the people—to employ an expression of Pierre Dufour (Paul Lacroix). Their example corrupted or purified public morality. The average citizen always had before his eyes the doings of the great ones and imitated them in all things in order to gain for himself a reflection of this distinction. At all times, therefore, the immorality of the court and distinguished society has necessarily brought in its wake the corruption of the people. Dufour has investigated this influence in detail as far as France is concerned.

Whoever investigates the peculiarities of the sexual life of any nation cannot overlook this influence of distinguished society. Thus, for example, it is certain that many sexual fashions and perversions were first introduced by the latter. Dufour justly accuses Catherine of Medici and her court of introducing into France all the practices, instruments and stimulants of Italian libertinism and then popularizing them. Those who are ever ready to assume congenital perversities quite underestimate the tremendous influence exerted in the sexual affairs of human beings by example. When we hear that Catherine of Medici brought with her to France many Italian artists who flooded the country with obscene pictures and sculptures representing the most unnatural crimes in the most seductive fashion and that this dissolute princess was surrounded by a court that glorified homoerotic love almost exclusively, then we will be able to understand how it was that tribady and pederasty became the fashion and found its way even among heterosexuals. This does not exclude the possibility that in certain cases a morbid diathesis can outright assume the form of a sexual perversity. Unfortunately the more recent medical writings concerning sexual psychopathies have aroused the belief not only among laymen but even among physicians that in those cases we are nearly always dealing with a disease, and only seldom with an anthropological or social phenomenon accompanying normal psychological development. It is my belief that the opposite is more nearly true.

The depraving influence of distinguished society can be traced with greater certainty in those periods where it stands over the people as a small and alien entity. Today, when high society is constituted from the wider circles and serves as the upper stratum of the whole population rather than as a distinct class existing in opposition to the entire group, this influence cannot be exactly measured. But it is still present. There are still fashionable modes and amusements which have taken their rise from the circles of the upper ten thousand and were then accepted by the profanum vulgus with great joy. There can be no doubt of the influence of society even today upon the form and direction of sexual life.

England had the chief part in the creation of modern society. At the same time, in the seventeenth century, this modern sophisticated society developed in France too, but the influence of the latter was ephemeral. The concept of high life included not only the aristocracy of birth but also those of money and mentality, and in general, every man standing out from the mass by virtue of his excellency and merit. Nowhere else has the aristocracy of birth shown less stability than in England, where it is constantly liable to changes, and recruits its ranks from the people in a measure vastly different from Germany. I attribute this democratization of high society to two factors principally which may be regarded as specifically English: the concept of gentleman and that of sport.

Thanks to this principle English society is today the finest in Europe, in the opinion of one of the most experienced observers of modern society: for the reason that it is the general possession of those who have been accepted into it. It is neither a phrase nor a mere idea, but is actually existent and its faithful are animated by a common interest.

This greatest common interest of modern society is of course sport—which is also a specifically English product, later introduced into the continent where it became the distinctive earmark of society. What are the links and the common foundations which connect and unite the different portions of London society?

It is neither the similarity of interests nor of taste; not even political sympathies can have this effect, and least of all, respect for ancient family traditions. No social tie is as strong and far-reaching as that of sport: shooting, hunting, gambling and betting. There is an English proverb to the effect that all men are alike on the turf and under it. By and large, sport is the most valuable addition that England has made to modern social life.

The beginning of English sport life was during the Restoration. Horse races, these great meeting places of London society, already existed at the time of Henry II but the real heyday of this sport began after the coronation of Charles II who favored this sport greatly and frequently attended the races, even arranging matches himself at Datchetmead and Newmarket.

Since that time the great horse races, the Derby, the races at Epsom and Ascot, etc., are the annual general assemblages of British society. At these tracks one finds the cream of English society represented more fully even than at court receptions. In addition the better demi-monde and the domain of the lorettes in the form of the so-called horse breeders are represented at these fashionable races which have more and more become a great popular festival.

Under Charles II sailing became popular. Cricket, pall-mall, tennis and football were also played during the Restoration. Cock-fights continued to delight society. The schedule of pastimes was repeated with boresome regularity. Every day after lunch Charles II would go to the horse races, thence to a cock-fight and then to a game; and after supper he would betake himself to his whilom mistress. The Restoration period saw the high point of immorality in the sex life of the English. Never before were the senses served in so orgiastic a fashion. Never were raw, coarse sensuality and brutal lust so rampant in England as under Charles II.

That age can only be understood as a reaction to the extreme Puritanism that preceded it. It is a natural law that any too great strictness influences man’s character adversely. Taine has taught that Puritanism ultimately culminated in orgies, that the fanatics brought virtue into disrepute.

It was Thomas Hobbes who ruled the roost with his materialistic world view and his naturalistic foundation of ethics.

Taine has remarked that just as the courtiers, tired of Puritanism, narrowed human life down to animal-sensual debauches, so also Hobbes, equally surfeited with Puritanism, confined human nature to its sensual side alone. He systemized their morality and gave to the fashionable world the handbook of its way of life.

Nevertheless, despite all efforts to ape French manners, the court of Charles II and the society of the time were far removed from the elegance, refinement and spirit which permit French corruption to appear in so seductive a light. One must not fall a prey to any illusions as one reads Hamilton’s Memoirs of Grammont, for he idealizes the conditions. He does, it is true, give a brilliant picture of the frivolity and cynicisms of that society, but it rather neglects to mention an essential element which gives the specifically British character to even the merry thoughtless days of Charles the Second. That is the unlimited coarseness and brutality of the debauches. Information on this score will be derived not from Grammont but from the diary of a Pepys, the poetry of a Rochester and the comedies of Etherege, Wycherly, Vanbrugh, Farquhar. It was from these writers especially that Taine derives the materials for his thoroughly correct judgment concerning the immorality of the Restoration. He draws an interesting comparison between the French and English corruption of that period, which brings out the point that French libertinism is not raw and brutal as the English was.

Whoever desires to enter directly into the spirit of that time and form a correct picture of a period whose wonderful plasticity will forever stamp it in the memory, must read the famous Memoires du Comte de Grammont by Antoine Hamilton, a French work written by an Englishman. That great epoch lives anew before the eye of the reader, who can actually imagine himself living in the midst of it and participating most actively in all the amusing incidents. I would count Hamilton’s book among humoristic writings in the best sense of the word. One can detect everywhere the humor with which the author considers the whole superficial and frivolous to-do. But no harsh judgment slips from his mouth. With moderation and a slight smile he registers all the vices and the crazy pranks of this dissolute society.

Anthony, Count of Hamilton, was descended from an Irish-Scotch ducal family and was born in Ireland in 1646. After the execution of Charles I, he emigrated to France together with his family and later saw service in the army of Louis XIV. He subsequently returned to England where he lived at the court of Charles II and finally received an official post in Ireland from James II. Not until 1704 did he set about describing the youthful adventures of his octogenarian brother-in-law, Grammont, in order to amuse and rejoice the old man. Hamilton died April 21, 1720, a pious Catholic, in which point he was again, as Saint Beuve remarks, of the seventeenth century. Remarkably enough, this witty spirit was, in his personal contacts, extremely reticent. Hamilton himself complained that he lacked the capacity of light and fluent speech. But his innermost nature was a placid joyousness—a characteristic which lends his works an unforgettably classic character.

These memoirs can be considered as unique. No other language has anything to compare with them, and the loose, discursive materials do not swamp or sully him who controls them as a master.

The society of the Restoration is the creation of King Charles II alone. It stands and falls with him. Never did any king, not even Louis XV, so stamp his personality upon his environment, immediate and distant. Let it not be said that it is always the energetic characters which exercise the greatest influence upon their contemporaries. Inertia too can become infectious, especially when it occurs in such a virtuoso of pleasure as King Charles was. Add to this the general attitude of the people who saw in this king, returning from exile, the liberator from the oppressive bonds of Puritanism and dated the beginning of a new and merry way of life from his return. No English king was ever as popular as he; and Macaulay with his thoroughly English feeling has given a very excellent summary of the reasons for this. His merriment and joviality were manifested not only in the narrow court circle but also in the wider reaches of the people, as the king permitted every gentleman access to his palace. This affability was combined with a soft, mild, tender and lazy disposition. If sloth is the beginning of all sin, this is especially true of Charles II.

In a very old edition of the works of Rochester and Dorset, we learn that Charles was more negligent than passionate, and, like many female libertines of his time, permitted himself to be drawn into excesses more for the purpose of making others happy than for his own pleasure. Particularly in the last years of his life, it was much more sloth than love that accounted for all the hours he spent among his mistresses who only served the purpose of filling his seraglio. His real pleasure was derived from gaming and dawdling. In the psychology of the voluptuary one must not overlook the fact that it is not always passion that creates idleness; frequently enough the converse of the vicious circle holds true—that idleness is the mother of vice. Just so Charles was a lover of idleness and frivolous pleasures.

Even though this monarch, without principles, character or energy, was of a sensual nature and had established a veritable harem of mistresses, nevertheless, love was for him more of a diversion than a deep passion.

After these preliminary remarks concerning the external character of the court of Charles II, we shall endeavor to present the most distinguished personalities of this court.

First, the ladies. It is a choice gallery of wondrous beauties which confronts us here with all the characteristic charm of the Englishwomen who, it is well known, are distinguished for their exceptional beauty. Her eyes are tender and deep, veiled and yet soft and full of lights. The mischievous eye is French, not English. The ear and the nose are small and the face is a gracious oval; the complexion is transparent, somewhat pale and illuminated by a fleeting red. The mouth is extraordinarily pretty. The whole body is silky and nothing is perhaps as gracious as the delicate and provocative curves of the interior of the legs in their ascending lines.

What the fine, soft harmonious faces of the Englishwomen most lack is expressiveness, the speaking physiognomy which constitutes the beauty of continental women. They never show, not even in the hot expansion of love, that passionate heat-lightning of the lascivious daughters of the Orient. The smile is the sole expression of mobility; and that they know how to employ in the most enchanting manner. The Englishwoman is more of an ethereal nature, the Frenchwoman more sensual and inciting to sensuality.

Among the numerous mistresses of Charles II the three most famous are, without a doubt, Lady Castlemaine, the Duchess of Portsmouth and Nell Gwyn.

Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine and later Duchess of Cleveland, was born at Westminster in 1641. She was the daughter of William Villiers, second Viscount Grandison. She was always surrounded by a circle of admirers and on April 14, 1659 she married Roger Palmer, later Earl of Castlemaine. However, he does not seem to have been the father of any of her numerous children. The intimacy between Charles II and Mrs. Palmer began May 28, 1660, the day of the king’s return to Whitehall. On February 25, 1661, she bore her first child, Anna, which the king recognized as his own daughter, although it was attributed to the Earl of Chesterfield to whom it bore a striking resemblance. When Catherine of Braganza, whom the monarch had chosen for his consort arrived, May 13, 1662, the king was with Lady Castlemaine, as Pepys has related in his diary. But there was no light burning before her house, which caused a bit of a sensation. The king and his paramour had sent for a scale to weigh themselves; and these sportive measurements established the fact that the Lady, who was with child, was the heavier.

In general, the Castlemaine acted arrogantly enough to the new queen. Pepys relates that once the queen, who was in the company of her ladies, said to Lady Castlemaine that she feared the king would take cold if he would stay at Castlemaine’s far into the night. The latter answered aloud that the ruler never stayed very late with her; he generally left early—although rarely before two or three in the morning—and that very likely he spends the night elsewhere. Just then the king entered and as he heard this impertinent remark he whispered something into her ear, called her a bold and rude woman and ordered her to leave the court. She did so immediately and moved into lodgings on Pall Mall where she remained for two or three days. She then sent to ask the monarch whether she could have her things removed, to which he answered that she had better come to see them. So she came, the king went to her and they again became good friends.

Such brief separations were not infrequent, but this energetic woman knew well how to manipulate the weak ruler so as to make him toe the mark. Pepys has preserved for us some specimens of her art in this respect. Once, after the lovers had experienced one of their periodic reconciliations, she did not live at Whitehall but with a Sir D. Harris whither the king came to visit her. Harris later related how she had demanded that the monarch go down on his knees to beg her forgiveness and promise never again to insult her in that fashion. She actually threatened to send all his natural children packing to his door. In her passion she cried that she wanted to be rid of the king and to have printed all his letters to her.

Despite the resistance of the queen, Lady Castlemaine was assigned to the court of the latter. In 1662 she bore the king a second child, Charles. More and more now she began to have numerous other affairs. Nevertheless the king continued to visit her four evenings a week and returned home secretly through a private garden. Pepys remarks that the sentinels observed it and began to talk about it—which is not so good for a king, adds the diarist. On September 20, 1663, Castlemaine’s third child saw the light. Despite the fact that the king did not regard this child, Henry, as his, he lavished costly presents upon her on this occasion. Two more children followed on September 5, 1664 and December 28, 1665. In 1666 Castlemaine occupied her luxuriously appointed chambers in Hampton Court. At that time her affair with the inconsequential Sir Harry Jermyn led to frequent quarrels with the king. On March, 1668, when many of the city’s brothels were suppressed, there appeared an ingenious pamphlet entitled Petition of the poor whores to the most splendid, illustrious, serene, excellent Lady of Pleasure, the Countess of Castlemaine, signed by Madame Creswell, a notorious panderess of that time. Somewhat later this was followed by a burlesque reply given at our closet in King Street, the Veneris, April 24, 1668.

In 1674 Castlemaine was displaced from the king’s affections by the Duchess of Portsmouth, but she consoled herself with innumerable other admirers. Her liaison with the rope-dancer, Jacob Hall, and with John Churchill, who later became the famous Duke of Marlborough, aroused a particular sensation. Hamilton makes a brief but significant report concerning the first. He relates that Hall, a famous rope-dancer, was very fashionable in the London of that day and delighted his audiences at public performances by his strength and skill. She desired to convince herself privately of his capacities; for in his professional attire he showed an athletic form and quite a different set-up from the victorious Jermyn. The dancer did not disappoint the expectations of Lady Castlemaine; that at least was the upshot of much public gossip and many satirical poems which were, of course, more to the honor of the dancer than the countess. But the latter stood above all idle talk, and her beauty shone more lustrously than ever.

The relationship between Marlborough and Lady Castlemaine has been very fully described in Mary Manley’s Atlantis. Herein the countess is designated as Duchesse de l’Inconstant, and John Churchill as Fortunatus. One of his female cousins was overseer in the house of the duchess and a favorite of the king as well. The young man visited his cousin frequently and it was in the course of one of these visits that the duchess espied him. She was immediately overcome by love for him and asked that he come to her when the king had retired. The sly court mistress, who knew well her intent, could surmise what the countess desired her cousin for. She was overjoyed at this good fortune and spent all day anointing and perfuming him that he might be the more suited to sustain his triumph of love. After she had given him all necessary instructions, she led the young Adonis to the bed of his loving Venus. The countess was beside herself with joy for she desired to be the first to capture the sparks of his young heart and to cause his first sighs. The consternation staring from his countenance and enveloping him altogether so that he did not know what was happening to him, and the lack of experience he evinced—these were new love charms for her. She was also extremely satisfied with his first trial, and he likewise understood how to use his good fortune to best advantage.

Lord Chesterfield’s characterization and eulogy of the Duke of Marlborough is of course well known.

Bishop Burnet related that after the countess believed herself to have been abandoned by the king, she surrendered herself to numerous infidelities. On one occasion, through Buckingham’s intermediation, the king caught her in the act, and the gallant jumped out through the window. This Messalina also drew into her net the writer of comedies, William Wycherley, who was a very handsome man. Then she had a liaison with Lord Dover whose history Mrs. Manley has also presented to us in a somewhat drastic form. It appears that Churchill had long since tired of his affair with the Castlemaine. Besides he was in love with Sarah Jennings who was later to be his famous spouse. Hence he only sought a good opportunity to rid himself of the duchess. How happy was he therefore when he was able to persuade Lord Dover to substitute for him at a rendezvous with Castlemaine.

One afternoon she was due to visit Churchill and so great was her desire to be with him that she did not take time to finish her lunch lest she be late. Since she was expected at her lover’s, all the servants except one who knew the secret, had as usual been dismissed. The latter informed the ardent Castlemaine upon her arrival that Churchill was asleep in a small room having just come from the baths. The duchess hurried into the room which was quite dark as the windows were shut and the blinds drawn. None the less she espied upon the couch a man who, under the pretext of the summer’s heat, had stretched himself most indecently over it, and had nothing on but a light sleeping gown. The sleeper had exercised such care in preparing his stunt that he had even covered his face with the edges of the cushions to prevent the lady from recognizing him. But the joy he experienced at the arrival of the duchess caused certain movements in him which so pleased her that she would not tarry another moment and forthwith proceeded to enjoy the pleasant situation. It is easy to imagine the rest.

On July 16, 1672, she again bore a child—patre incerto—her third daughter, Barbara. In 1677 she went to Paris, where she corresponded with the king most diligently and in 1685 returned to England to enter into a new relation with the actor, Goodman. From him, this most fruitful of mistresses bore a son in March, 1685. Thereafter she had numerous love escapades. Her husband, the Earl of Castlemaine, who, as the important papal nuncio of James II, did not exactly cover himself with glory, died July 21, 1705. Four months later the man-crazy, 64-year-old widow married the young Robert Fielding, one of the handsomest men of his time, called Beau Fielding as a tribute to his looks. But he was a gruff patron who cruelly maltreated his old wife. Fortunately, it turned out that he was already married to someone else, and so Castlemaine had the marriage annulled. At the trial some of her letters were read. These were characterized by such obscene indecency as to make quite credible all the accounts concerning her depravity. She survived the last incident only a few years and died of dropsy. This woman, whom Macaulay branded the most spendthrift, ambitious and shameless among fallen women, was distinguished by extraordinary beauty of form and figure. According to Oldmixon, she was the most beautiful and passionate of the royal concubines. She had an exquisite round face of childlike expression, auburn hair and lovely dark blue eyes. Numerous paintings have preserved this beauty for later generations. From the hand of Lely alone (or his school) we have five portraits of Castlemaine one of which is in the famous Hampton Court gallery. In addition Will, Gascar, and others painted her portrait.

Louise Renée de Kérouaille (Kéroualle), Duchess of Portsmouth and Aubigny, was born in 1649, the daughter of a Breton noble. She became court lady to the Duchess Henriette of Orleans, a sister of Charles II, with whom she came to England in 1670. At that time the monarch had had his fill of Lady Castlemaine and, in October 1671, she was elevated to the position of official mistress of Charles II—on which occasion Louis XIV congratulated her. On July 29, 1672, she bore the king a son, Charles Lennox, first duke of Richmond.

She was extremely unpopular in England because she was French and Catholic, and was popularly known as Carewell or Madame Care-well. The title of Duchess of Portsmouth she received August 19, 1673, and Louis XIV added to it that of Duchess of Aubigny. It was her influence that induced Charles to effect a rapprochement with France. She kept her position, which even externally was a very brilliant one, until the death of the king. All in all she received £136,668 sterling from the king. Her dwelling was appointed with the utmost luxury. John Evelyn is witness to the fact that her apartments at Whitehall were ten times as magnificent as the queen’s and in his diary he describes a visit he made to the duchess, in the company of the king. After the monarch’s death she returned to France and rounded out her life at her Aubigny estate. She died November 14, 1734.

Voltaire saw her in his old age and found her very pretty. Another to see her before her death was George Selwyn. According to Evelyn, who saw her in November, 1670, when she first came to England, this famous beauty had a childlike, simple baby face. Macaulay holds that the soft and childlike features were made even lovelier by a Gallic vivacity. This extraordinary beauty was painted by Lely, Kneller, H. Gascar and Mignard. Her motto, En la rose je fleuris, was perpetuated by her descendants, the dukes of Richmond and Gordon.

Of all Charles’s mistresses, undoubtedly, the most appealing figure and the one whose memory is still fresh in the minds of the people is Nell Gwyn. Even during her life she was the most popular of the king’s concubines because of her devoted, childlike, naïve, and yet thoroughly British character. In general, according to Thomas Campbell, among all of Charles’s paramours the loves of the theatre were the least expensive and popular and Nell was such a theatre-love.

Eleanor Gwyn, generally called Nell Gwyn, was born February 2, 1650, to a London fishwoman. Until her thirteenth year she sold oranges at the Theatre Royal and also, according to a satire of Rochester, herrings. Then a traveling juggler made her part of his company and sent her to sing at public houses. Her pretty face led the notorious brothel keeper, Mother Ross, to take her into her house of joy where the child was taught reading, writing and singing. Among her lovers were the actors, Charles Hart and John Lacy. Hart undertook to educate the talented Nell for the theatre, and in 1665 she made her début as Cydaria, Montezuma’s daughter, in Dryden’s Indian Emperor. She was not an artist of the first rank but she did combine natural vivacity and grace with a not inconsiderable talent in song and dance. Pepys frequently expressed his admiration for her, and termed her pretty, witty Nell (April 3, 1665). The women play right well but above all little Nell. After he had seen her in Celia he kissed her and his wife followed suit—whereupon he exclaimed, She is a mighty pretty creature. (January 23, 1666). It was in 1671 that Nell attracted the king’s attention. Dryden had written for her an epilogue to his play, Tyrannic Love or the Royal Martyr. Such epilogues, which contained quite frivolous and licentious verses, were generally assigned to women, and that to the most popular actresses. Nothing pleased the public quite so much as to hear the most slippery verses drop from the lips of a pretty girl, who, it was believed, had not yet lost her innocence.

There was another circumstance worthy of note in the king’s first view of Nell. A certain mediocre actor by the name of William Preston, who was appearing in a very insignificant piece, had achieved great popularity by appearing on his little stage under a tremendous hat. The success of that trick led Dryden to fit Nell Gwyn out with a hat of the size of a large wagon-wheel. Her little figure appeared so droll under this enormous headgear and she made such a charming impression that everybody was enchanted. The king took her home with him and immediately made her his mistress although she continued to appear in the theater where Dryden cast her in the best roles and where she was the darling of the public. When Pepys saw her as Florimel in Dryden’s Secret Love, or the Maiden Queen, he wrote, So great a performance of a comical part was never, I believe, in the world before and, so done by Nell her merry part as cannot be better done in nature. (Diary, March 25, 1667). As an actress, Nell Gwyn was largely indebted to Dryden who seems to have made a special study of her airy irresponsible personality, and kept her supplied with plays which suited her. She excelled in the delivery of the risqué prologues and epilogues which were the fashion.

It was, however, as the mistress of Charles II that she endeared herself to the public. Partly, no doubt, her popularity was due to the disgust inspired by her rival, Louise de Kéroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth, and to the fact that, while the Frenchwoman was a Catholic, she was a Protestant. But very largely it was the result of exactly those personal qualities that appealed to the monarch himself. Numerous anecdotes, particularly in Tom Brown’s State Poems and in Etherege’s verses, demonstrate how popular Nell became in a little while. She was known as the poor man’s friend and her position as mistress was much less offensive than was the case with the noble mistresses of the king. The people regarded her position more as fate than as a vice; and whenever a dispute would arise between her and the Duchess of Portsmouth—they seemed to be forever quarreling—the people would passionately espouse the cause of their favorite.

Many anecdotes are told about these expressions of popular sympathy with Nell. Once when the Duchess of Portsmouth stepped into a jewelry store at Cheapside to pick up a gorgeous silver service that the king had presented to her, a mob assembled outside and gave vent to abuse and invective. They called out that they would rather see the silver molten so that they could pour it down her throat. The gift really belonged to their beloved Nelly. What a pity it should not be bestowed on Madame Ellen! Another time when Nell was driving her carriage through the streets of Oxford, the mob mistaking her for her rival, proceeded to revile and threaten her. Whereupon she poked her head through the window and smilingly said, Pray, good people, be civil, I am the Protestant whore. Nell was most skillful in making her rival appear ridiculous. The Duchess of Portsmouth claimed that she was related to the foremost French families and