The Official Essex Sisters Companion Guide (14 page)

Eloisa directly refers to
Weatherbys
only once in the Essex series, in
Kiss Me, Annabel
.

                       
When Josie found him, Mayne was sprawled in a chair in Ardmore’s library. He was holding a copy of Weatherbys
General Stud Book
, but it looked to Josie as if he were just staring into the distance.

Kiss Me, Annabel

I found this reference fascinating, so I decided to look up the book. The title
General Stud Book
suggests it is a book listing virile single British noblemen for the marriageable ladies in the
ton
. . . but instead, it is an alphabetical listing of thoroughbred broodmares and their returns, i.e., foals or breeding results to stallions. Like
Debrett’s Peerage
, the
General Stud Book
is still published today. The book was first published in 1791, and was the first of its kind to track and publish the pedigree of racehorses, a kind of
Debrett’s Peerage
for thoroughbred horses.

A gentleman who bred horses—one of the few acceptable “occupations”—would have been extremely dependent on the
General Stud Book
. It detailed a horse’s breeding and its success in a very tangible way, and it also documented a gentleman’s wealth. Through study of the book, an owner would find information so he could breed in desirable traits with the goal of raising a successful racehorse. Owning a winner was, of course, a matter of pride, prestige, and wealth.

When you read the example from the book below, it becomes obvious that breeders or owners are just as important as the horses themselves. The entry for Alladina lists four different breeders, including the Duke of York. A sophisticated gentleman could breed a horse that would be registered in the
General Stud Book
in the same entry as the Duke of York!

Example Listing from the
General Stud Book
(1832).

The example entry from the
General Stud Book
makes a nice visual, but frankly I had no idea what it meant. Since Weatherbys is still publishing the stud book, I decided to contact them and ask. They explained that for the purposes of the
General Stud Book
, a breeder of a foal is the person who owned the mare at the time she foaled or gave birth.

The attached entry image in the
General Stud Book
, if translated into
normal
English, would be read like this.

Alladina is the broodmare whose progeny between 1828 and 1832 are recorded in this volume of the
General Stud Book
. HRH the Duke of York was the breeder of the mare (so he owned Alladina when she was foaled) in 1820. Alladina’s sire (father) was Aladdin, and her dam (mother) was sired (fathered) by Young Whiskey out of the mare Duchess, an Arabian mare belonging to Sir C. Cockerell.

• 1828 is the year of foaling of Alladina’s bay filly sired by the stallion Whalebone. The breeder of the foal was Lord Egremont.
  
• 1829 is the year of foaling of Alladina’s gray colt, named Bacchus, who was sired by Whalebone. The breeder of this foal was Captain G. Bulkeley.
  
• 1830 is the year Alladina lost a foal fathered by Whalebone.
  
• 1831 is the year of foaling of another bay filly fathered by Whalebone and bred by Lord Egremont.
  
• 1832 is the year of foaling for what appears to be another bay filly (suggested, as the description is left blank), but this time by the stallion Gaberlunzie.
  

Mayne, as a gentleman of the time, would have closely studied
Weatherbys General Stud Book
, considering a horse’s pedigree, ownership, and championship wins when trying to decide whether to mate one of his mares with a champion stallion listed in the book (note that
General Stud Book
lists broodmares and their progeny—not stallions. The covering stallion is named against each of the mare’s progeny). The whole procedure doesn’t feel very different from mothers of debutantes studying
Debrett’s Peerage
in order to identify the best prospects for their daughters!

Now I want to read a book listing virile single British noblemen. Oh, well . . .

Not all Regency pastimes were as wholesome as those depicted in
Sporting Magazine
and the
General Stud Book
. After all, Regency gentlemen didn’t merely breed horses; they also bet on them. In fact, they seem to have spent a significant amount of time gambling, whether over cards, dice, or horse races.

In this 1821 illustration from the journal
Life in London
, you can see a cluster of elegantly dressed gentlemen watching a race below them. Some of those men would be cheering on their own horses, but quite a few would be cheering for the horse they were hoping would win.

Eloisa incorporates wagering and gambling in
Much Ado About You
and
Pleasure for Pleasure
. Here’s a general description from
Much Ado
.

                       
Horse races are noisy affairs. The Cup itself wouldn’t be run for two hours, but already the men crowding the railing were shouting and jostling amongst themselves, watching a group of two-year-olds tear around the backstretch, heading for the starting gate. Eager bettors were howling at the jockeys, and then howling at each other.

Much Ado About You

The Essex girls’ father was a champion horse breeder, obsessed by his stables to the point of neglecting his children. When Tess realizes that her father had forgotten to inform the duke of his daughters’ ages, she thinks ruefully, “Papa had likely informed him of Starling’s age, and Wanton’s stride, and what Lady of Pleasure liked to eat before a race, but not the ages of his daughters.” Although very few of his horses ever won a race, their father was completely horse-mad, which establishes a theme that runs throughout the series.

Each of the girls reacts to her father’s recklessness in a different way: Tess becomes cautious and tries to plan everything, whereas Annabel becomes intent on marrying a rich man. Imogen, on the other hand, falls in love with a man very similar to her father—which is, of course, something that many women do, for good or ill.

Draven, Lord Maitland, introduced in
Much Ado About You
, appears to have had many similarities to the girls’ father, such as a serious gambling problem. I asked Eloisa if she deliberately recreated the sisters’ beloved, feckless father in Draven Maitland, and she confirmed that she did intend a direct link.

                       
[Maitland] was not only horse-mad, he was gambling-mad. Everyone said that he couldn’t turn down a bet, not if it were for his last farthing. Maitland would eat in a ditch, were there the chance of a race afterward.

Much Ado About You

If you’ve read
Much Ado About You
, you know that Draven Maitland’s addiction to gambling, and his inability to turn down any challenge, will (literally) be the death of him. Eloisa builds that point slowly over the novel as various people discuss his problem. Here’s Miss Pythian-Adams pointing out an unpleasant truth to Maitland.

                       
“[Your mother] seems to have a particularly unambiguous doubt in your ability to keep two guineas in the same pocket without putting one out on a bet.”

Much Ado About You

But Imogen is in love with the young lord, and she remains the only person unable to see that he has a destructive streak. In fact, she stoutly defends his “system.”

                       
“He is utterly different from Papa because Draven actually knows what he’s doing when he bets. He has a system, you see, and he understands horses in a way that Papa never did.”

Much Ado About You

The hope that a person could discover a “system” that would allow him to beat the odds persists to this day. From my research, a reckless addiction to gambling was experienced by many men and women during the period. For example, the Countess of Lovelace (one of Lord Byron’s daughters) found herself deeply in debt because she was certain her mathematical ability would make her a winner.

Unfortunately, it was all too easy for a gentleman of the time to lose significant sums on wagers. Gentlemen often involved themselves in what we would consider outrageous bets over carriage races, boxing matches, and games of chance. There’s even a record of a big wager based on a fly crawling across a window!

These bets were a matter of pride and printed in the newspapers, recorded at gentlemen’s clubs, and in general widely publicized.

                       
“Oh, I did win,” Maitland said genially. “Essex thought that roosters always crowed atop a fence post. That wager was easy enough to win.”

Much Ado About You

The fact that publications of the time reported some of these wagers suggests they were not only accepted, but considered noteworthy and entertaining. Some bets were clearly ridiculous—like that between Maitland and Essex above, which had to do with a rooster’s crowing—and others were just standard bets on races, either held at the racetrack or privately, involving individual horses.

Obviously, what’s most fun from this vantage point are the absurd wagers, the ones that a reader can hardly believe took place. I found a number of them by reading a book entitled
Year 1800, or the Sayings and Doings of Our Fathers and Mothers
.
Year 1800
is a compilation of interesting tidbits published in newspapers and other periodicals in that year. Here are a few of my favorite challenges. Just for fun, I’m splicing Eloisa’s references to foolish wagers in between real-life examples reported in
Year 1800
.

                       
“Well, what did you expect? You haven’t pursued an
affaire
in months—almost a year, isn’t it? And now Imogen is alternately rebuffing you and leading you on. The bets are at five hundred to one that she’ll accept you before the end of next month.”

Kiss Me, Annabel

                       
“Josie hasn’t created a scandal. But Darlington has swept up a storm of gossip on behalf of his despicable friend Crogan by putting a wager in the books at White’s that the man who marries Josie will have a liking for pork.”

Pleasure for Pleasure

                       
Wisley and Thurman trotted up to them like eager little spaniels. “By Jove, you did get in, Darlington!” Thurman bellowed. “I bet Wisley here five guineas that you couldn’t get yourself invited to Holbrook’s wedding fete.”

Pleasure for Pleasure

                       
“The life of a gentleman with nothing to do but enjoy himself,” Mayne translated. “I’ll tell you what such gentlemen do, Sylvie. They flirt with other men’s wives, and sometimes they bed them. They involve themselves in foolish bets over carriage rides and boxing matches.”

Pleasure for Pleasure

                       
“I’m afraid that Draven lost a great deal of money at Lewes this week,” she whispered to Tess.

                            
“How much?” Tess asked bluntly.

                            
“Twenty thousand pounds.”

Much Ado About You