MASQUERADES, CONCERTS, &c.
Masquerades were introduced into England by Henry 8th, but, perhaps, at no time were they so fashionable, as during the latter half of the 18th Century, although they do not always seem to have been successful. The Morning Post, Feb. 6, 1788, speaks of a Masquerade at the Opera House, thus:—"The Supper and Wines were consistent with the well known parsimonious principle of the conductor, the provision being very unequal to the appetite, and number, of the guests. The music was very indifferent." Thus we see that these amusements were not of equal quality, and the Critics did not fear to say what they thought of them.
"Pantheon, Jan. 26, 1788. The Nobility and Gentry are respectfully acquainted that the First Masqued Ball, at this place, will be on Thursday next, the 31st Instant. There will be a Supper as usual, with Wines, &c. Tickets at One Guinea each may be had at the Office."—(Morning Post, Jan. 26, 1788.)
This Masquerade seemed to be very popular.
"The Prince's visit to the Brandenburgh-house Masquerade was to have been in female habiliments; but the shortness of the notice did not allow time for preparing them, and neither the shoes, corsette, nor robe, of Mrs. Vanneck, for which his Royal Highness sent, could be made capacious enough for a momentary covering. The sailor's habit was, therefore, adopted without any preparation for the character. The Margravine's Masqued Ball produced many whimsical events, but none more than that from a character representing Acteon, who, in brandishing a huge pair of antlers, run full butt against a French looking-glass of 300 guineas value, and smashed it to pieces. The Margrave being near, endeavoured to give the accident a pleasant turn, by remarking in German 'that there could be no jollity where they let the glass stand.'"—(Times, March 1, 1794.)
"The MASQUERADE.
"The entertainment given by the Manager of the Opera House, on Monday night, was the best attended of any we have seen for many years, and fully answered the expectations that had been formed of it. The space allotted, however, large as it was, with the addition of the new room, and another above stairs, was by no means sufficient for so large a company: and the pressure of the crowd rendered the rooms insufferably hot, as well as prevented the masks from appearing to advantage. For so large an assembly, there were fewer masks than usual, but the hilarity of the company made amends for this deficiency. The Prince of Wales was in a black domino, arm-in-arm with Captain Churchill, and Lord George Conway; the Duke of Clarence was the whole evening with Mrs. Jordan in a private box upstairs. Michael Angelo Taylor was dressed in women's cloaths, but was less talkative than usual. The supper was extremely well conducted, and the provisions better than usual. The refreshments were also liberally supplied. There were about 2700 persons in the rooms, and among them some of the prettiest women in town."—(Times, March 5, 1794.)
"MASQUERADE AT THE OPERA HOUSE.
"On Thursday night, for the first time this season, there was a grand masquerade at this House, which was very numerously attended, as every room was crowded, and the numbers computed at about 1600. A party of Bon-vivans, unmasked, came into the rooms about two o'clock, who had evidently made too free use of the juice of the grape. The primitive dress of one of them, who appeared to be a Quaker, did not quite accord with his manners, which were more prone to the flesh than the spirit. Although the new regulations in price is in favour of Masquerades, yet the freedom of conversation which is allowed in these motley meetings, became, on this occasion, indecent ribaldry, and licentiousness. The lowness of the price of admission was in a great measure the cause of introducing many low visitors, who made themselves obnoxious to delicacy, and good manners, by the coarsest language."—(Times, Feb. 17, 1798.)
Madame Cornelys.
There is a paragraph in the Times of August 23, 1797, whereby "hangs a tale"—
"The miserable death of Mrs. Cornelys, in the Fleet Prison, adds another melancholy instance to the catalogue of vicissitudes in what is generally termed fashionable life. She was formerly the law-giver of the circles of dissipation, and gaiety, yet closed her existence in the hospital room of the prison, in which she had obtained permission to reside, by the kindness of the Warden."
The history of Teresa Cornelys is very singular, showing how a nobody—for no one knows even from what part of Germany she came—could come here, and, by her business qualities, and tact, become a person absolutely indispensable to Society. All we know of her is that she was supposed to be a German, who had been a public singer, both in France, and Germany, and that she came over here about 1756 or 1757. Whether there was a Herr Cornelys alive, we have no knowledge—but she had a son, and daughter. That she was not bad looking, is evidenced by her portrait, which must have been taken in her declining years: that she must have been shrewd, business-like, and possessed of much savoir faire, is undeniable—for she held "Society" in her grasp, and, for a time, made it do just what she wanted.
What she did for the first five, or six years, after her coming to England is not known, but she must have been possessed of some Capital, or she could not have taken, as she did, Carlisle House—a mansion in Soho Square. Here she started a sort of fashionable Social Club, called "The Society," either in 1762, or 1763, and this was its programme. "The subscription is seven guineas for twelve nights, one ticket each, which introduces only one person, whether gentleman, or lady; but there are frequent subscriptions in the year, and two ladies may be admitted six nights on one subscription. No person can be admitted a Subscriber to this Society, but through the recommendation of a subscriber. Four ladies of quality, having each of them a book, have the joint management, direction, and choice, of the subscribers; every one's name must be entered in one of those ladies' books.
"A non-subscriber can only be admitted by a subscriber's ticket, writing his, or her name on the back; in consequence of which rule, and to avoid the possibility of improper company, their names are, immediately after the night is over, printed, and hung up in the outer room.
"The doors are opened, at 9 o'clock, of the lower rooms, which consist of six, each superior to the other; few people, however, assemble before 10, and those who profess themselves of the genteelest order, not till eleven, when they walk about, and amuse themselves with accosting their acquaintance, and forming themselves into select parties for the evening; then regaling with jellies, syllabubs, cakes, orgeat, lemonade, fruits, &c., prepared in a kind of arched shelving all round the hangings of the tea room.
"At ten, the upper flight of rooms open, which consist of two large rooms, besides a very large ball room, furnished, and hung, in the most superb taste, with an exceeding good band of music in an orchestra erected at the upper end, and rows of benches, down the sides, placed one above the other. In this room they dance country dances, but no minuets at all.
"At half-past eleven, the company in general repair to tea, and have small round tables for their separate parties.
"At twelve, the Cotillion gallery opens, with another range of seven rooms underground, which, from the vast variety of furniture and ornaments, the grandeur, and magnificence, of some, the elegant simplicity of others, together with the amazing beauty of the lights, one of the principal excellencies of the whole, form a view, on descending a perpendicular flight of stairs most sumptuously, and pleasingly, striking.
"In these lower range of rooms, the company finish the evening, the young in dancing cotillions, the others in looking on; for there are no cards, nor gaming, of any kind. At one, the company begin to separate, and continue going till four, but the major part break up about two."
By which set of rules we see that Madame Cornelys, started her establishment in the strictest propriety, whatever became of it afterwards; and these rules were strictly carried out. The rooms, on off nights, were used for other purposes; for instance, she, knowing the power of the class, gave a servants' ball; and the Old Westminster scholars held their Anniversary Meeting in her rooms.
Her prosperity excited envy, and many were the rumours set afloat, to her detriment. For instance, in 1766, it was said she owed her late cook £50, and that she had run away from her ruined creditors, to France, with many thousand pounds.
She had to contradict these reports, and said that she had, within thirteen months, spent £11,000, on the house, &c.
Concerts, both instrumental and vocal, were given at Carlisle House, and the tickets for them, which survive, are very beautiful, many of them being drawn by Cipriani, and engraved by Bartolozzi.
The Royal Family used to patronise her soirées, as did also the King of Denmark, when he visited England in 1768.
Early in 1770, she gave her first Masquerade, which immediately lowered the tone of her establishment, and was the precursor of her downfall. This was under the patronage of the "Tuesday Night's Club," and the Dukes of Gloucester, and Cumberland—besides numbers of the aristocracy of both sexes, were present, and it was a very brilliant affair.
She had another grand Masquerade on 6 February 1771, to which the price of admission was two and a half guineas. The same Royalty was present, and also the leading Nobility—Among the masques were five devils, a bear, and, worst of all bad taste, a shrouded corpse in a coffin, (said to be a brother of Colonel Luttrell), but he was, after a short time, ejected by some pseudo sailors.
The Female Coterie.
From this time her fortunes declined—she was twice fined £50 for performing Operas, under the guise of harmonic meetings, and Guadagni, her principal vocalist, had been fined £50 for singing in the same, and these musical performances were put a stop to.
But, in spite of all her enemies could do to her, she still had some friends, if we can believe the London Chronicle, 19-21 February 1771.
"A certain D——s, who is a principal promoter of the New Opera House, declared, lately, she would persist in support of Mrs. C., whatever was the consequence, 'for,' said she, 'I hate the thoughts of mixing with any body merely because they have half a guinea in their pocket; and that such scums should sit on the same bench, and think themselves on a level with the first nobility!' 'I agree with you' (says Lady A——r), 'and am grieved to think that we are, one day or other to mix in heaven with the dregs of the people.' 'God forbid' (says the D——s), 'I should ever be in such company.'"
The Subscription balls, and Masquerades still went on—and she instituted a society called "the Coterie," which had not the reputation of insisting on the strictest morality on the part of its members.
This coterie broke up. The Pantheon was built, and opened, in opposition to her. Perhaps she was extravagant, but, anyhow, from some cause or other, she became bankrupt, and was so gazetted on the 9th Nov. 1772, as a "chapwoman, and dealer in gloves." Her goods were sold in Dec. 1772, and it must have been a famous sale, as the Catalogues, to admit two, were five shillings each.
She, herself, was taken to a debtor's prison, where she could not have stopped very long, as there are advertisements of Masquerades conducted by her, at Carlisle House, in the spring and summer of 1773.
She was again a bankrupt in Dec. 1774, and Carlisle House was advertised to be sold. Still, somehow or other, she must have found friends, with money, to help her, for she issued an advertisement, 15 January 1776. "Mrs. Cornelys most respectfully takes the liberty to acquaint the nobility, and gentry, that, through the kind assistance of her friends, she is again reinstated in Carlisle House, on her own account."
But nothing could bring back her old patrons, and the social status of her masked balls got lower and lower. Worse than all, the refreshments were not so plentiful as of old, as we may see in the "Citizen's Complaint to the Priestess of Soho," which concludes thus—
"Yet fairy scenes and preparations,
With all your novel decorations,
Are diet fitter, let me tell ye,
To feed the Fancy than the Belly."
In 1778, Carlisle House was again to be sold, but still Madame Cornelys, somehow, kept her clutches on it. She established an "Academy of Sciences and Belles Lettres"—a Library with Newspapers, &c.—and a debating society, open to both Sexes. This "School of Eloquence" collapsed in 1781. Scientific lectures, Joseph Borouwlaski, the Polish Dwarf, and some more Masquerades, were all tried, but without avail, to resuscitate her fallen fortunes. It was said that she gave four and a half Masquerades, the half being accounted for, by the fact that no license had been taken out, and the masquers were ejected.
After 1782 Carlisle House seems to have been shut up; on 28 June 1785, Christie sold the furniture, China, and other effects; and in 1788 the old Mansion was pulled down, and what was the grand Saloon has been altered into a Roman Catholic Chapel, St. Patrick's, Soho.
There is no record of Madame for some years, but we know from Newspaper notices, that in 1792 she took a large house and grounds in Knightsbridge Road, formerly occupied by a dealer in Asses milk, and converted it into a "female archery."
Luck was against her, this failed; she was very old, had fought her fight, and now the refuge for the remainder of her days was the Fleet Prison. There, however, she met with kindness from friends, and help from her daughter, who was very accomplished, and no more is heard of her, until the paragraph in the Times, which heads this memoir.
"Masquerade at Marlboro House.
"At the Duchess of Marlborough's Gala, on Wednesday evening, one of the principal ornaments was the statute of Precedency, elegantly illuminated, in variegated lamps over the grand entrance. Lyon, Clarencieux, and Garter, Kings-at-Arms, in their coats of office, were stationed in the hall, and marshalled the guests upon their arrival. Upon the first landing place, were Her Grace's Vice-Chamberlain, and three Masters of the Ceremonies, attended by deputy Masters, and the Pages of the Presence, and back staircase. In the antechamber, covers were provided for the Lord Mayor, and Sheriffs of London, whose pease were said to be served cold, but his Lordship eat his peaches without hazarding any remarks. His Mace was thought to be one of the finest pieces of sculpture ever executed in pastry. It contained a fine pine-apple in the capital, with a beautiful crown in Naples-biscuit, and his chair was entirely composed of barley sugar drops. In the next room were the Barons and Baronesses, the newly created ones next the door, and the premier Baron very near, but not in contact with the lowest Viscount, in the corridor of the third chamber. The Lord Chamberlain, the Lords of the Bedchamber, the Gold and Silver Sticks, &c., had their wands of the best double refined sugar, excepting the Gold Stick, whose staff was of barley-sugar, or as some say sugar-candy.
"In the inner rooms, according to their rank, and date, were placed the Earls, Marquisses, and Dukes of England. The premier Duke, and E. M., nearest to the Noble Hostess. The Lords on the cross bench were served with some difficulty by Beefeaters, who were obliged to move like the Knights at Chess, which had a very pretty effect. It added to the liveliness, and gaiety of the meeting, that every mask had for its neighbour, on both hands, the same individual it conversed with so frequently at Mr. Hasting's trial, which made the 'I know you,' and 'Who are you?' exceedingly facetious and happy. The Lords of the Bedchamber were in high glee, and spirits, but were discovered by their jokes, some of which were remembered upon former occasions. The Maids of Honour were in perfect character and detected in an instant."—(Times, June 21, 1799.)
Music was much in vogue both publicly and in private. Concerts were plentiful, the most aristocratic, perhaps, being held in Willis's Rooms, of which I will give one Advertisement, relating to a ball.
Advt.—"Assembly Rooms, King Street, St. James's Square.
"Willis humbly begs leave to acquaint the Nobility, and Gentry, Subscribers, that the first Ball, this season, commences This Day.
"The Rooms will be lighted at Ten, and the Ball will be opened at Half-past Ten o'clock, precisely.
"N.B.—By order of the Ladies (Directresses), no person whatever will be admitted without producing their ticket, and no ticket but those of the night, can possibly be admitted.
"The Nobility and Gentry are most earnestly requested to order their Coachmen to set down, and take up, with their horses' heads towards St. James's Street.
"The side doors are for chairs only."—(Morning Post, Feb. 14, 1788.)
A Country Concert, or, An Evening's Entertainment in Sussex.
This refers only to the subscription Balls, which were so famous, and so select—but, as I said above, this was the chiefest Concert Hall. A greater libel against the English nation never was uttered, than when it was said they were not a musical nation—and it was, essentially, in Chamber music, glees, madrigals, ballads—small home concerts in which a few friends met together and spent a pleasant evening—in which the harpsichord, or pianoforte (for that instrument was then in vogue), joined with the cello, violin, and flute, in pretty, and harmonious, quartets.
This Illustration shows Mrs. Billington and the Duke of Sussex, with two friends, thus engaged, and an exceedingly home-like group it is.
It was an unusual thing for ladies, then, to play on any other instruments than the harpsichord, or piano, and the harp, or guitar; this latter coming specially into vogue, some twenty years later, after the Peninsular War, so Mrs. Billington created some surprise.
"Mrs. Billington who is solicitous for musical distinction in any respect, as far as her talents can extend, is now applying, with very great diligence, to the violin; and, from the present state of her progress, it is supposed she will hereafter figure amongst the most shining performers on that instrument."—(Morning Post, Feb. 16, 1788.)
Judging by this illustration, the ladies of 1799 were not at all restricted in their choice of instruments.
Apropos of Concerts, we get several paragraphs about them from one Newspaper, the Morning Post of Jan. 15, 1789.
"Since the illness of a certain Great Personage,[12] Lady Young has entirely surmounted her religious qualms, and is determined, once more, in defiance of the proclamation, to fix her Concerts on the Sabbath Day. Thus, Politics and religion, and music, go hand in hand."
"Lord Hampden, Lord Cholmondeley, the Duke of Queensbury, Lady Petres, the Duchess of Bolton, Lady Bridget Tollemache, &c., &c., will have their alternate concerts, as usual."
"The dissensions continually subsisting between the different performers and directors of the Tottenham Street Concert,[13] added to the present indisposition of its Royal Patron, and the daily decrease of subscribers, will, it is feared, reduce that light amusement to its primitive obscurity."
"Should Cramer quit the above Concert, it will be a loss not to be repaired, as they might as well attempt to proceed without Harrison, as without that incomparable leader. Mr. Bate may conduct, but he cannot lead; every man may blow the bellows, but it is certainly more difficult to play the organ."
"Lord Uxbridge's new Music Room in Vigo Lane, will be opened in the course of this season; the time is not yet fixed, but it is supposed it will be as magnificent a Gala, as music can afford. The extreme care taken that nothing should obstruct the sound, has nearly answered every purpose, and it certainly promises to be the best private room for music in London;—we hope, when filled with company, the small reverberation at present remaining, will be entirely dispelled."
It is sad to read of such a case of reverse of fortune as the following:—
"A French Marchioness, who a few years since, possessed a fortune of £5000 a year, is engaged to sing before their Majesties at the Concerts of Antient Music, which commence on Wednesday next."—(Times, Feb. 1, 1794.)
Savoyards of Fashion—1799.
Of Pictorial Art, we hear but little in Old Times—but the Art Critic of the Morning Post, May 20, 1788, did not fear to speak out, and give his opinion freely.
"Royal Academy.
"235. Theseus receiving the Clue from Ariadne. H. Fuseli.—Poor Theseus, with a broken leg, is endeavouring to support Ariadne, whose figure suggests more the idea of a sick ideot, than a beautiful woman. Whilst we pity the situation of these two lovers, we cannot forbear laughing at the little cock-tailed Minotaur, galoping about, for amusement, in the distance. The design, however, has some merit, but Theseus appears as if he had left his skin behind him, and, indeed, some of his muscles are not in their proper places.
"181. Portraits of three Children. P. Reinagle, A.—The Colouring of this picture is Currant Jelly and Chalk. The glare of crimson and red, confines the eye, in such a manner, that it is difficult to find out what the subject is meant for. This picture (like most of this Artist's works) is an imitation of the stile of some other master, which is certainly very commendable in a painter who possesses no genius of his own; but as we do not think this is the case with Mr. Reinagle, we recommend him, as before, to look at nature.
"175. Portrait of a young Gentleman, and his brother, flying a Kite. W. R. Bigg, A.—We cannot determine on the likeness of these portraits; we are also at a loss to say, whether the figures, or the Kite, are drawn with most taste and elegance."
Fuseli opened a Gallery for the display of a series of his paintings illustrating "Paradise lost."
Advt.—"The general impression felt by all kinds of people, on entering the Milton Gallery, is, this is unlike everything we have seen before. The old nurses stories about the devil are properly confuted by the exhibition of a figure that is bold, daring, and majestic, and a model of muscular strength and gigantic symmetry. 'I have often wondered,' said a Lady, 'how Eve could have been tempted to transgress by such a hideous monster, as Satan has been represented to me: but, if he was, in reality, such a being as Mr. Fuseli paints him, why—That accounts for it.'"[14]—(Times, June 17, 1799.)
Advt. "CURIOUS NEEDLEWORK.
"VIEWS in EMBROIDERY will begin to be exhibited THIS DAY at No. 11, New Bond St., consisting of three views of Constantinople, two of Egypt, one of Switzerland, one of Weymouth, one of the Tower, and London Bridge, and of Blackfriars, &c., taken from the top of the Albion Mills, the same as has been seen at the Panorama.—Admittance 2s. 6d. An Explanation, with a sketch of the above Views, will be given gratis, at the place of Exhibition."—(Times, April 13, 1795.)
Advt. "DAY EXHIBITIONS.
"The convenience of Day Exhibitions must be obvious to the Polite Circles, who are otherwise engaged in the evening.
"At the MECHANIC THEATRE, No. 38 Norfolk Street, Strand, will be exhibited the
"ANDROIDES.
"Doors open every day at half-past 12, and begins at 1, and every Evening doors open at half-past 7 and begins at 8.
"These much-admired Pieces of Mechanism, which not only imitate human actions, but appear to possess rational powers, consist of, 1st—
"The Writing Automaton.—A Figure, about the size of a Boy of four years old, which will be brought to a table, and set to write any word, words, or figures required, in a round legible hand. 2nd—
"The Fruitery—the model of a neat rural mansion, and contains the following figures: first, the Porter, which stands in the gate, and, on being addressed, rings a bell, when the door opens, the Fruiteress comes out, and any Lady, or Gentleman, may call for whatever fruit they please, and the figure will return, and bring the kind required, which may be repeated; and the fruit varied as often as the company pleases: it will likewise receive flowers, or any small articles, carry them in, and produce them again, as called for. As the Fruits are brought out, they will be given in charge to a Watch Dog, which sits in front of the house, and on any person taking away, or touching them, will begin to bark, and continue to do so until they are returned. The next figure belonging to this piece is, the Little Chimney Sweeper, which will be seen coming from behind the house, will enter the door, appear at the top of the chimney, and give the usual cry of 'Sweep' several times, descend the chimney, and come out with its bag full of soot.—Third,
"The Liquor Merchant and Water Server. These are on a platform of about two feet square, which (as the former pieces) will be placed on a table. The Liquor Merchant stands at a small cask from which it will draw every kind of spirits, wine, &c., required. The Water Server stands at a pump, and will fill a tumbler with water as often as called for.—Fourth,
"The Highland Oracle: a Figure in the Highland Dress, stands on a Time-piece, and gives the Hour and Minutes whenever asked, by striking its Sword on a Target: it gives a rational Answer (by Motion) to any Question proposed: it calculates Sums in Arithmetic, and gives the amount instantly of any number of pounds, yards, &c., at any given price, beats time to music, &c.
"The Table the different Pieces will be played on, contains an Organ, on which the Proprietor introduces a few Notes: also
"The Machine or (self-playing) Organ, will play occasionally several Pieces of Music, Airs, Country Dances, &c.
"Mr. Hadcock flatters himself the Androides will be found more curious than anything of the kind ever before offered to the Public, as the principles of Action are entirely new. The Theatre is neatly fitted up, and everything calculated to give satisfaction to a polite and discerning Audience.
"Boxes 4s., Gallery 2s. Admittance, after the Two First Parts, Half Price. Exhibition lasts nearly Two hours."—(Times, Jany. 15, 1796.)
If there was little mention of "Art," in the old newspapers, there was still less of "Literature," except in the advertisement of new books.
"What is Jemmy Boswell about? where is his Life and Adventures of the great Lexicographer, the Atlas of obscure sentiment, and pompous phraseology? Mrs. Piozzi's last work hath been read, and re-read, with avidity, and admiration. If the men doth not look sharp, the women will run off with all the biographic laurels."—(Morning Post, June 12, 1788.)
Mrs. Thrale's book, "Letters to and from S. Johnson," was published in 1788, and her "Anecdotes of S. Johnson, during the last twenty years of his life," in 1786. Boswell's "Life of Samuel Johnson," &c., was published in 1791.
"The last exit of the celebrated Mr. Gibbon, was attended with some very extraordinary circumstances. He was sitting with an intimate friend, on the evening of his death, and remarking of himself, that he thought there was a probability of his enjoying thirteen, or fourteen, more years of life. He had not been long in bed, before he was seized with excruciating pains. He endeavoured to swallow some brandy, but in vain. He then made a signal to his valet to leave the room, and in a few minutes expired. He has left everything indiscriminately to a young Swiss gentleman, to whom he was attached, and who accompanied him last year to this country."—(Times, Jany. 27, 1794.)
"Four thousand and seventy three Novels are now in the Press, from the pens of young Ladies of Fashion. At Mrs. D——'s School all the young Ladies write Novels, in the fourth class!! and those whose parents are rich, or honourable, are at the expense of printing them. Lady L. G. and Lady C. C. are busily employed upon two rival Novels, which are the favourite work for Young Ladies at present: and the lawful successors of bell-ropes, coronet cushions, and painted flower-pots. Lady G.'s is entitled—'Duke or no Duke,' Lady Charlotte's 'All for Nothing.' Those who have seen the latter, are loud in the praise of its beauties: the plot of the former is not thought to have been well laid."—(Times, April 18, 1796.)