Representing Regency: Courtesans, Marriage and Dukes

Something happened a week or so ago in Romancelandia.  It’s not a new something, but its an important something.  And something that I have been thinking a lot about over the last year: historical accuracy and representation.

Following a review on a very popular romance book blog that expressed skeptism re: marriage between a courtesan and Duke, Romancelandia came alive to express differing viewpoints on historical accuracy and what criticisms about historical accuracy in the context of romance novels actually mean.  Some suggest its always about marginalization/privilege.

I know that as someone who reads broadly in the Regency/historical romance world, my biggest problems with historical accuracy (and when you will see me nag on anachronisms/prochronism) is usually language based.  Particularly dialogue.  I don’t want to read historical characters whose language is indistinguishable from contemporary romance.  I also get a little tired with motivations or behaviors that are obviously modern.  I try to be upfront about my own biases.  And allow that other Regency Readers read the genre for other reasons.  Because I know not all of you are in it for the history.

I launched an unscientific Twitter poll to see what others felt about the importance of historical accuracy when reading historical romance.  I am interested what you think, so leave a comment or Tweet at me.

But, I really do like history.  And I like learning new stuff.  Historical stuff.  Stuff that helps me challenge or reframe the way I think about things.  Including love, romance and relationships.

I like data.  And in this context, historical data.  I think its one way we can separate the wheat from the chaff.  So I am creating a new category and blog post in 2019, “Representing Regency”, with the express intention to discuss representation.  Specifically, I want to highlight marginalized populations, talk a bit about ongoing assumptions in romance novels (in the past and present), and start a robust conversation about what we as readers (and writers) want to see in the future.

This is also a great opportunity for guest blog posts.  I want to hear your experience, your perspective, and what you as a reader want.  Pick your medicine, and tell me (and other writers) about it.  (You can email me at romanceanne at yahoo dot com with your thoughts or a guest post)

So since the topic is the one to get me off my duff and finally crack this monolithic subject up (but believe me, you will see smatterings throughout the archives if you go hunting), I want to talk a bit about sex workers who married Dukes (or other gentry).

First, some examples:

Anne Parsons (1735-1815) was a successful courtesan and served as “de facto first lady” to her lover, the first Prime Minister, The Duke of Grafton.  She never ended up marrying that bloke, because she was having an affair with the Duke of Dorset who she later married in 1776.  The pair went on to have a ménage a trois with the Duke of Bedford.  So this courtesan definitely had a thing for Dukes (http://twonerdyhistorygirls.blogspot.com/2012/09/nancy-parsons-tailors-daughter-loved-by.html).

Lavinia Fenton became Duchess of Bolton after the Duke’s first wife died.  She had been an actress, barmaid, prostitute and mistress for the Duke after he fell in love with her on stage (http://historyandotherthoughts.blogspot.com/2015/04/lavinia-fenton.html).  The marriage went down in 1751.  So a bit before the Regency.

Sophia Dubochet (1794-1875)  was one of the infamous Wilson sisters who married Lord Berwick after first a failed elopement with Viscount Deerhurst and pursuit by the Duke of Leinster (https://janelark.blog/2011/09/11/lady-berwick-sophia-dubochet-%E2%80%93-sister-of-harriette-wilson-the-regency-courtesan/).

There are other examples of courtesans who were long term mistresses to aristocrats (Grace Elliot, Dorothy Jordan).

To be clear, there aren’t endless examples because there aren’t endless Dukes or peers.  But there were enough that it shouldn’t be outside the realm of probability or believability when a romance novel shows a relationship/marriage between a sex worker and a peer of the realm during the Regency era.

A lot of historical romance heroines are virgins.  And so we get used to this as a “norm” in the genre.  I think this is one of the reasons some may have a knee jerk reaction to a sex worker heroine.  And boy, is that too much for me to unpack in a short blog post.  But its something to be aware of as a reader (and writer).

I also think its complicated.  Courtesans, by definition, are working women.  And that can have all sorts of implications when creating a historical world.  Does she stop working because of her relationship?  What does that mean/imply?  How does she deal with past clients/lovers when meeting them in public?  Past spouses of lovers?  High sticklers?  These aren’t easy answers to answer, and quite frankly may not be important for every reader.  My friend likes to say not to “ick her yum”.  Romance readers may find some of those details unnecessary, gross toppings on their yum.  Others find it the special sauce.

In the case of the controversial review, I think the reviewer was trying to point out that the author didn’t address potential public backlash on the relationship.  If you are a frequent reader of the Regency genre (or thereabouts), you know propriety is one of those elements of the romance that create a sense of time/place.  When we know, as readers of historical romance, that men and women had strong boundaries and expectations of behavior to be admitted into polite society, I think it is baffling to imagine a scenario where a sex worker can be accepted into the Ton.

However, courtesans in the 19th century lived in a different world where “they were the fashion…to be seen (with a  courtesan) was the apogee of social success” (Hickman, 7-8) at least for young gentlemen.  The courtesan, a higher class of sex worker, in the 19th century “was part of an elite sub-culture, inhabiting a socially ambiguous position at once idolized and yet on the margins of society” (Culley, couldn’t find the page number in the book :().

The courtesan was diametrically opposed, a perfect foil, to the virginal, cloistered virgin of the marriage mart.  Playing out the Biblical V/W drama, both debutante and courtesan were commodities for sale for different purposes in the “marts” of public performance.  A courtesan to suddenly transition to wife combats that treatment of woman as commodity.  However, in the worlds of romance when novels are focused on romantic love it should make sense…because the relationship isn’t transactional or an exchange.  Instead, its love.  But for some, not having some of those logistics explained may ick their yum.

I am one of those people that gets stressed and worrisome about some of those details, particularly in movies.  If a teen destroys the house having a raging, epic party I can’t stop thinking about the clean up, the bill, the parents reaction.  I have been actively working on letting this go for years, but its also just part of my personality.  I am sure I am not the only one.  And I think maybe that was what the reviewer was suggesting?

Because a courtesan enjoyed freedoms, celebrity, wealth and entrée into the (at least masculine) aristocratic world, her transition to a permanent place probably wasn’t as shocking as we might suppose.  Indeed, some memoirs and letters suggest a familiarity and even intimacy between courtesans and their aristocratic female counterparts: Culley highlights relationships between courtesan/actress George Anne Bellamy and Lady Tyrawley and the Duchess of Douglas as an example of the types of relationships courtesans shared with the Upper Orders.  But not every reader comes with this knowledge.  And so if it feels untrue or inauthentic, it becomes pretty easy to assume its not historically accurate.

I am not an expert on this topic and have only scratched the surface of research that suggests that relationships between peers and courtesans were not unlikely and probably not as shocking (at least in some circles) as we may want to believe.  But I put the above thoughts out there by way of presenting a little bit of historical data that what maybe we assume is impossible (or at least improbable) probably has more to do with what we learned from romance novels than reality.

I encourage us all to continue this conversation and share research and information.  And for us to all think about our own biases, what our own “ick and yums” are, and how that impacts what we read.  And to remember those biases when we share books with others.

I will endeavor to continue being open and balanced about my biases, continue to give you some historical data about things that we may make an assumption about with representations, and try to help expand our collective knowledge about the world of Regency romance.  I hope you will join in, share your thoughts, and help us continue to work on Romancelandia from the inside out.

Culley, A (2014).  British Women’s Life Writing, 1760-1840: Friendship, Community and Collaboration.  New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Hickman, K (2014).  Courtesans: Money, Sex and Fame in the Nineteenth Century.  William Morrow Paperbacks.