January 2013

The Gunning sisters were much courted and admired, and in January 1752 Elizabeth was introduced to the Duke of Hamilton. This fateful meeting led to a whirlwind courtship and at a St Valentine’s Day party in Bedford House the Duke threw caution to the wind and demanded that a local parson marry them then and there. The parson refused as the Duke had not procured a licence and the banns had not been called. Undeterred by this setback, the Duke took his bride-to-be to the Mayfair Chapel, where they were married at midnight without a licence and with a ring taken from a bed curtain. Such ‘clandestine marriages’, although regarded as improper were legally binding and valid.

As Duchess of Hamilton, Elizabeth Gunning bore three children, but sadly the Duke passed away in 1758. She had not lost her allure, however, and attracted the attention of the Duke of Bridgewater, and entered into an engagement with this illustrious gentleman. However, for reasons that are not known, the engagement was terminated, and in 1759 she married John Campbell, Marquess of Lorne. In 1770 Elizabeth Gunning became the Duchess of Argyll when her husband succeeded to the dukedom, and she went on to have a further five children. Horace Walpole, who was clearly not a fan of the lovely Gunning sisters, said, “Who could have believed a Gunning would unite the two great houses of Campbell and Hamilton? For my part I expect to see Lady Coventry (Maria Gunning) Queen of Prussia. I would not venture to marry either of them these thirty years, for fear of being shuffled out of the world prematurely, to make room for the rest of their adventurers.”

Elizabeth was a great favourite with the royal family, and between 1761 and 1784 she served as a Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Charlotte and King George III created her the Baroness Hamilton of Hameldon in her own right. The impoverished Irish beauty had become one of the greatest ladies in the land and she was also the darling of some of the period’s finest artists, being painted by both Gavin Hamilton and Sir Joshua Reynolds. She died aged 57 on 20th December 1790 at her London hime, Argyll House. She was buried at Kilmun in Argyllshire.

In Georgian England, a real life Cinderella story gripped the nation. What made this story even more interesting was that it featured not one, but two, beautiful heroines. So how did two unknown sisters from a humble background take London society by storm and marry into the most aristocratic families in the land? Move over Kate and Pippa! Were they alive today, the Gunning sisters would undoubtedly outshine even the Middletons.

Maria and Elizabeth Gunning were born in about 1733 in Hemingford Grey in Huntingdonshire, two of the five daughters of Irishman John Gunning and his wife the Honourable Bridget Bourke. They were raised in genteel poverty and in 1740, or early 1741, the family returned to Ireland where they rented a house in Dublin and also spent time at the ancestral home of Castlecoote House, County Roscommon. As soon as they were old enough the sisters started working in the Smock Alley Theatre in Dublin to augment the family income. This was very unusual for well born women, as most actresses were also courtesans. By putting her daughters onto the stage, Mrs Gunning was probably the equivalent of a modern mum encouraging them into a career in lap dancing.

In 1748 the sisters were invited to a ball hosted at Dublin Castle by Viscountess Petersham. They were so poor that they could not even afford to buy suitable ball gowns for the occasion, but they were rescued by a theatre manager, Tom Sheridan (father of Richard Brinsley Sheridan)l who lent them a Lady Macbeth and a Juliet costume to wear to the dance. At some point during the ball they were presented the Earl of Harrington, who was the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and they made such a good impression on him that he granted their mother a generous pension.

On receipt of this, the ambitious Mrs Gunning immediately swept her daughters back to England, where they entered Huntingdonshire society. The two stunningly beautiful girls were an instant hit at nearby assemblies and balls, and soon their fame spread as far as London. They moved to the capital, where their celebrity continued to grow, taking polite society by storm. They were even accorded the honour of being presented at Court in December, 1750, a momentous event which was chronicled in the newspapers of the day. Their fame by this time was such that some of highest-born aristocrats climbed up on chairs and tables in an effort to gain a glimpse of them. They had to be closely guarded by a military escort whenever they went out as they were mobbed by dozens of people, all crowding close to stare at them. The fact that they were sisters, and possibly twins, seems to have had much to do with their appeal. Their portraits were painted and engravings circulated with poetic inscriptions: “Hibernia long with spleen beheld, Her Favorite Toasts by ours excelled, Resolved to outvie Britannia’s Fair, By her own Beauties,—sent a pair.” Not everyone was smitten, however, and Horace Walpole called them, “Two Irish girls of no fortune, who make more noise than any of their predecessors since the days of Helen, and who are declared the handsomest women alive.”

Georgette Heyer’s preoccupation with the colour puce has been well-documented, but the reasons for her apparent dislike remain unknown. ‘Puce‘ comes from the French word for ‘flea’ and the colour itself is said to be the colour of the bloodstain which is left on the bedclothes after the flea has been squashed!
My personal favourite Heyer ‘puce‘ conversation comes from Devil’s Cub:
He was annoyed, and showed it. “I believe you’ve not heard one word!” he said.
“I was thinking,” said Mary thoughtfully, “that puce does not become you, Joshua.”
“Puce?” stammered Mr Simpkins. “Become me? What — Why –?”
“It is maybe your complexion that’s too high for it,” mused Miss Challoner.
Mr Simpkins said with dignity: “I was speaking of Sophia, Mary.”
“I’m sure she would agree with me,” replied the lady maddeningly.
“She’s too easy, cousin. She don’t know the path she treads,” Joshua said, trying to bring the conversations back to its original topic. “She’s very different from you, you know.”
A slow smile curled Miss Challoner’s lips. “I do, of course, but it’s hardly kind in you to tell me so,” she said.
“In my eyes,” declared Joshua, “you are the prettier.”
Miss Challoner seemed to consider this. “Yes?” she said interestedly. “But then, you chose puce.” She shook her head, and it was apparent she set no store by the compliment.
There are plenty of other puce references … see how many you can identify. No prizes, just the kudos of knowing your Heyer!
For each of the following quotes, can you identify the book and, where applicable, say who X is?
1. … Lady X had exclaimed: “Oh, you are before me! Torquil, my son!” She moved forward, in a cloud of puce satin and gauze, holding out her hands to him.
2. “Raise you a hundred, gentlemen,” X said, and lay back in his chair, feeling in his capacious pocket for his snuff-box. He pulled it out, and opened it, and took a pinch, flashing a quick look around the table. A gentleman in puce satin, and a very large stock buckle, protested that fifty was deep enough.
3. Miss X, whose striking beauty could well support the trying colour, was wearing a new gown of pale puce satin and net to the ball, and with this George’s violets could not be said to agree.
4. Critically surveying the sketch and mentally eradicating from it such additions to the ensemble as a purple-puce shawl, a tiara and a black lace head-veil, X came to the conclusion that Charis’ instinct had not betrayed her.
5. “But De Chambert wears puce small-clothes,” objected X. “Does he? Mordieu, I’d like to see that!…”
6. “Yes, quite important. I think the new habit, the coat dos de puce – or is that a thought sombre for the errand? I believe the blue velvet will be more fitting. And the perruque á bourse? You prefer the Catogan wig, perhaps, but you are wrong, my dear boy, I am convinced you are wrong …”
7. “On no account!” said X decidedly. She waited until Mr Wychbold’s attention was claimed by a lady in puce satin, and then turned towards her companion, and said forthrightly: “Are you a very good dancer, sir?”
8. One of these was my Lord March; the other was a slight, elderly gentleman with arresting grey eyes, a nose inclined to be aquiline, and thin smiling lips. He was magnificently attired in puce satin, with an embroidered waistcoat. His wig must surely have come straight from Paris.
9. Undismayed by a gown of puce satin, lavishly adorned with lace and diamonds, and by a headdress supporting a plume of curled feathers clasped by a glittering brooch of opulent dimensions, he had seized the first opportunity that offered of approaching Mrs. Underhill, when the gentlemen joined the ladies after dinner; and it was he who made Sir X known to her.
10. Below, in the hall, gathered about the fire, the gentlemen were waiting, his Grace with orders glittering on a coat of purple satin; Lord Rupert in a pale blue, with much rich lacing, and an elegant flowered waistcoat; Marling in puce; and Davenant in maroon. X paused half-way down the stairs and unfurled her fan.
11. This speech might have been designed to put X at her ease, but she still felt, as she descended from the chaise, that perhaps a puce silk dress, a velvet pelisse, and a feathered bonnet were a little out of place at Fontley.
12. Miss X … an elderly lady whose grey locks had been crimped into ringlets which dangled on either side of an amiable countenance. The absence of a cap proclaimed her spinsterhood; she wore a high-gown of an unbecoming shade of puce; and carried a reticule in one bony hand.
13.The boxes began to fill up, and presently, in the one beside X’s, she observed Sir James Filey, gorgeous in a coat of puce brocade, and leaning over a chair in which a scared-looking child with pale golden ringlets and forget-me-not blue eyes sat bolt upright, clutching a fan between her mittened hands.
14. “The gentleman” – Moggat laid ever so little stress on the word – “is tall, sir, and -er-slim. He is somewhat dark as regards eyes and brows, and he is dressed, if I may say so, exceedingly modishly, with a point-edged hat, and very full-skirted puce coat, laced, French fashion, with – ”
15. “The doctor is a worthy individual, Jim, but he knows even less of the art of dressing than you do. He does not understand the soul-agony of a man who makes his first appearance in puce.”
16.“A jest- the merest jest, I assure you! I had not the least intention – la, do but observe the creature in the puce satin over there!”
17. Lady X was complimenting Madame de Saint-Vire on her gown. “I declare that shade of blue is positively ravishing!” She said. “I searched the town for just such a tafetta not so long ago. La, there is that lady in puce again! Pray who may she be?”
18. The Earl had changed his travelling dress for an evening toilet of puce velvet, with a flowered waistcoat and satin small clothes. He came across the room to X’s side, and bent to kiss her hand. ‘None other, my dear. Am I -now don’t spare me- am I perhaps de trop?’
19. She turned around to look at him. ‘Puce…’tis not the colour I should have chosen, but ’tis well enough.”
20. “Any pleasure Lady Theresa might have derived from the ball had been destroyed by the sight of Cordelia Monksleigh, in a hideous puce gown, standing at the head of the great stairway to receive the guests. She had been unable to banish the reflection that there, but for her own folly, might have stood X, though not, she trusted, in puce.”
21. “If he thinks my ribbons insipid I am astonished that he hadn’t the effrontery to say that your dress was commonplace! Depend upon it, he thinks you would look more becomingly in purple, or puce, or scarlet! Odious creature!”
22. Nothing, thought X, could have been more opportune! Lucy was by far too unaffected to have purposely placed herself beside a plain young female in a dress of a particularly harsh puce, but the effect could not have been more advantageous.
23. … the ladies fell into enthusiastic discussion of current fashions, Miss X showing Lady Buckhaven the picture of a ravishing Chinese robe of lilac silk which she had discovered in one of the numbers of “La Belle Assemblee”, and Lady Buckhaven arguing that a light puce would be more becoming to her new friend.
24. X went to his hostess and dropped on one knee to kiss her hand. He was dressed in puce and old gold. Jenifer thought she had never seen anything so gorgeous, or so astonishing.
25. Encountering at first one or two stares from young bucks, X felt rather conspicuous in being quite unattended, but her alarming frown stood her in good stead, and a rakish gentleman in puce satin who had taken a step in her direction retreated hastily.
26. The puces swore faintly at the scarlet uniforms; the celestial blues and pale greens died; but the white satin turned all the gold-encrusted magnificence into a background to set it off.
27. “No, and I am so glad. And now go on and put on that new puce coat. ‘Tis prodigious modish, and I want you to look very nice to-night.”
28. Out came the cambrics and the muslins: lilac, Pomona green and pale puce, made into wispy round dresses figured with rosebuds, with row upon row of frills round the ankles.
29. “I have conceived a dislike–nay, a veritable hatred–for puce. I will wear blue.”