Ever wondered what a Georgian Ball of the eighteenth century was actually like? Luckily for us, these celebrations were often excitedly described in the news of the day, so we can get a good idea of what they were like to attend. As it turns out, when the subjects of George III partied, they put on some definitely dazzling Georgian celebrations. 

Photo by Karl Hedin on Unsplash

In one ball, hosted by the Earl and Countess of Northumberland for George III's birthday in June 1764, around 1500 'persons of the first distinction' talked, danced and drank in the warm summer evening. An eye-witness reported that there were  'grand illuminations' in the garden, consisting of  '10,000 lamps' with 400 more lamps hanging on the balustrades near the steps, 'which had a most beautiful effect'. The Northumberlands also put on musical entertainment - no less than two bands. One played in the great gallery of their home, which was 'illuminated with an astonishing degree of splendour' while the other band entertained guests in the garden. 

They danced until late, too. The Lord Mayor hosted a ball at the Mansion House in London in 1768, with dancing continuing until midnight, 'when a very grand supper was served up'. After eating, guests went into the ballroom and continued dancing until 5am the next morning. Many of London's aristocracy were present for the celebrations, including the Dukes and Duchesses of Portland, Richmond, Bolton, Queensbury, Manchester and Northumberland. Two years later, the Lord Mayor hosted another ball, showing off his new chandeliers in his Egyptian Hall. There were many 'loyal and patriotic toasts' sipped on the blast of a trumpet, although on this occasion the dancing continued until 4.30am. However there were 600 dishes served, and awkwardly, the tables were not long enough to seat everyone. 

Georgian balls could certainly serve up vast amounts of food. In 1770 an entertainment given by Sir Watkins Williams Wynn on his coming of age served 30 bullocks, 30 hogs, 50 calves, 80 sheep, 18 lambs and 70 pies. Guests ate guinea fowl, turkey, chickens, duck, rabbit, carp and pike. There was also lobster, crab and trout along with hundreds of shrimps, 60 barrels of pickled oysters and rock oysters. Among other foods, they also enjoyed pork pies, ham, plum pudding, apple pie, tarts and rice pudding. Those celebrating with Wynn also munched through 18,000 eggs, 6,000 asparagus and 200 French beans, washed down with wine, brandy, rum and ale. The party was hosted in Wyn's park at Wynnstay in North Wales and it was estimated that 15,000 people celebrated there with the 21-year old aristocrat. 

In Surrey, Lord Stanley put on a ball as an excuse to celebrate his upcoming marriage to Lady Betty Hamilton. Held in 1774, it was a feast for the eyes, as guests played games and watched lavish entertainments. It was also theatrical. There were actors dressed as shepherds and shepherdesses 'who skipped about, kicking at the tambourines, which were pendant from the trees'. Perhaps distastefully, there were 'many persons habited as peasants' who also amused the attendees with their dances and 'other amusements'. Guests then danced, in rooms 'peculiarly ornamental and rich', with lamps glowing in different colours. Gold fringe hung off of drapery and gold fringe. In the centre of the main room, a man appeared dressed as an 'ancient Druid... with a bough of mistletoe', accompanied with 'a group of fauns... in picturesque habits of tiger skins ornamented with oak leaves'. They entertained the guests with a pantomime-style dance routine which included the figure of Cupid, relevant to the party's theme of marriage and love. Reports stated that 300 of the nobility were present at Stanley's marriage celebrations.  

But what about a royal ball? Dances and dinners were often held to celebrate royal birthdays, with the king and queen present. One ball hosted at St James' Palace in 1764 celebrated Queen Charlotte's birthday. Described as 'very splendid and numerous', the royal couple entered the room just before 9pm, and the ball was opened by the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess Louisa Ann. Those present danced various minuets until past 11pm, when George and Charlotte went to bed. However the rest of the guests continued to dance until around 1am the next morning. In 1771, another ball was held to celebrate the queen's birthday at St James', and it seems to have had a British-industry theme, as it was noted that 'the ladies made a most brilliant appearance... dressed mostly in our manufactures'. A celebration for the king's birthday the following year was noted for the female nobility's dress and jewels, 'distinguished by a profusion of diamonds', with those worn by Lady Villiers believed to have cost £70,000. 

Balls were also given, and received, in acts of diplomacy. In 1768 'a very grand entertainment' was hosted by George and Charlotte at Buckingham Palace for the King of Denmark. 170 people were invited, and the event began at 7.30pm, with dancing starting at 9pm. This time, the king and queen celebrated until around 4.30am, and the eye-witness report states that the King of Denmark left at the same time. 

Not to be outdone, the King of Denmark hosted a similar ball in return, at the Haymarket Theatre, inviting 'the greatest number of nobility and gentry ever assembled together upon any occasion of the like nature', around 2,500 guests. This ball had its own characters to entertain those present, including a conjurer, a methodist preacher, a chimney sweep and a boar with a bull's head, 'all supported with great humour'. 

Enjoyed this? You might also like The Chaotic Funeral of Elizabeth Percy, Duchess of Northumberland in 1776, LGBTQ Britain: Mary East and Moll King: Notorious Businesswoman of Georgian London.

The Wars of the Roses are one of the most turbulent times in our history. Its events affected not just England but Wales, parts of Ireland and Scotland too, in addition to other nations overseas. And while it is true that women did not fight in armies in the wars, there is evidence that they did take up arms to protect their homes, support the opposing side or even lash out in vengeance. Here are stories of courageous women who found themselves at the centre of violence - and fought back- during the fifteenth century Wars of the Roses. 

Photo by Lance Reis on Unsplash, cropped

Elizabeth Blount

When Richard III learned that the castle of Hammes was under Lancastrian command, he sent troops to besiege it to return it to the crown. Sir James Blount was the constable of the castle, which had recently imprisoned John de Vere Earl of Oxford, a well-known supporter of the Lancastrian cause and also of Henry Tudor in Brittany. John convinced James to join him, and the two fled to Henry, leaving Elizabeth in charge of the castle. Before he left, 'because he lefte his wife in the castle, did fumishe the same with a good garison of menne before his departure'. It was up to Elizabeth to command them. She held out valiantly, and when news of the siege reached the exiles, de Vere returned with troops to help her defend it. A negotiation with the royal forces was made, and Elizabeth was allowed to leave the castle. Elizabeth's actions have left a trace in the official papers of the realm, with Richard III later granting her a pardon. Her name appears at the top of a list of her soldiers. Find out more about Elizabeth.

Margaret Paston

Margaret found one of her properties surrounded by troops in a land dispute of 1469. The Duke of Norfolk claimed ownership of the Paston's Caister Castle and set out to seize it by force. Margaret wrote to her eldest son, who was in London trying to petition Edward IV for help. Her younger son was helping his mother and servants defend the castle. Margaret had manned sieges before, at their family home of Gresham in 1448 and also at their homes at Drayton and Hellesdon. Her letter to her husband from the conflict at Gresham is one of the most well-known of the period, asking him to send her crossbows and windlasses for the defence of the castle and adding, practically, that the family also needed sugar, almonds and material for the children's clothing. Learn more about Margaret.

Alice Knyvett

In 1461 Alice's husband and son were away from their home in Buckenham Castle, in Norfolk. Edward IV took this as the perfect opportunity to seize the castle into royal hands. Sending a group of men to take the castle and 'arrest and imprison any that resist', Alice remained defiant. She gathered together some household servants and a veteran soldier from her village community. Commissioners reported to Edward that they saw Alice standing in a tower armed with 'slings, paveisis, faggots, timber and other armaments of war' with around fifty supporters. Shouting from across the moat, with the drawbridge pulled up, she yelled to the men to leave, telling them 'if ye begin to break the peace or make any war to get the place of me I shall defend me', adding that her husband had charged her to keep the property in his absence should any attempt on it be made. Learn more about Alice.

Ellen Gethin

A woman of legend, but also a real survivor of the events of the conflict. Ellen was born in Wales, and following the death of her father, lived with her brother David near Radnorshire on the family estates. After a boozy night out at a tavern, her brother and cousin fought, and her brother was (probably accidentally) murdered. But Ellen vowed to get her revenge. At an archery competition, she appeared in disguise covered in a dark cloak, obscuring her identity. Lifting the bow and arrow, she turned and sprung the arrow into the heart of her cousin, John hir ab Philip Vychan. Ellen later married Thomas Vaughan of Hengest. Sadly he died fighting for the side of York in the Battle of Edgecote in 1469 and she became a widow. Find out more about Ellen's legend and life here. 

Find out more about these women, and many more, in my book Forgotten Women of the Wars of the Roses, published by Pen and Sword. 

Anyone remotely familiar with the Wars of the Roses will know about the Battle of Towton in Yorkshire, when the nearby river was supposed to have turned red with the blood of the dead soldiers. 

The battle took place between the Lancastrian army of Henry VI, headed by the Duke of Somerset, and the Yorkist troops led by Edward Plantagenet, son of the since dead Duke of York. From the 1450s, concerns grew for the country amid Henry's ineffective rule and health problems that left him mentally incapacitated for long periods of time. York had managed to wrestle a promise out of Henry that he would be king after his own death, which only added enthusiasm to the Yorkists' cause. The duke's supporters conspired, fought and raised money and men to pave his way to the the throne in the civil war known as the Wars of the Roses. But the duke was defeated at the Battle of Wakefield in 1460 and killed in a public execution afterwards. It was his eldest son Edward who took up his fight. 

Richard Caton Woodville, Battle of Towton painting, 1927. Via Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.

Squaring up on the muddy field of Towton, said the Tudor historian Edward Hall, were 60,000 royal soldiers, while Edward's troops amounted to just over 48,000. They met in a field between the villages of Towton and Saxton in Yorkshire on a bed of raised ground. Among those ready to fight were well-known men of medieval politics. Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick commanded a portion of Edward's army, while Lord Falconberg oversaw another division. Warwick was used to battle, and was not only an expert soldier and military leader but was also known for his generosity. It was said that when he held a feast, the inns of London were full of the earl's meat, him urging everyone present to take as much leftovers they could slide onto the blade of a dagger before leaving.

The armies first clashed at around seven in the morning. It was 29 March, but was bitterly cold, with flakes of snow falling, the ice particles mushing with earth under the soldier's leather boots. It was said that the battle continued until dusk, and it would have been an exhausting fight. The Yorkists however gained the upper hand, with one explanation given being that the snow fall increased throughout the day, driving in the direction of the Lancastrian soldiers. Struggling to see through the haze, they found counter attack more and more difficult. It's possible too, that Edward's underdog passion inspired his troops to fight harder. He was outnumbered, but unlike Henry VI, led his own army into battle. Edward was a respected warrior, and was driven on by the very recent loss of his own father, and many of his supporters would have also backed and personally known the duke.

Spears, axes, swords, shields and arrows were among the weapons used at Towton. Research by York Osteoarchaeology on skeletons unearthed and believed to have been soldiers at the battle showed some fascinating findings. The youngest they excavated was around fifteen years of age, while many showed evidence of blunt force or weapon related trauma. There were also signs of longer term illness. The death of Lord Dacre is a famous one - it is said that he was pausing in battle to take a drink, took off his gorget (the chain mail worn around the neck) and was struck in the throat by an arrow. 

As the Lancastrian soldiers plotted their escape from the field, they headed to outlying areas, and many who survived the battle sadly drowned in the river Cock nearby. The figures are startling, although are debated by modern historians. In a letter Edward wrote to his mother Cecily Neville after the battle, he claimed that 28,000 Lancastrian soldiers and commanders had died. In total, 38,000 lie on the field, although it was believed that the total dead, including those that drowned in the river, numbered around 97,000. Among them were members of the nobility, including the Earls of Northumberland, Westmoreland, and Shrewsbury; John Lord Clifford, the Lords Dacre, Beaumont, Neville, Willoughby, Roos, Scales, Grey, Fitzhugh, Molineaux, Welles, and Henry Buckingham. There was also Sir Andrew Trollop, Sir John Neville, Sir Richard Percy, Sir John Heyton, Sir Gervase Clifton, Sir Edward Harnis, Sir John Burton, Sir David Trollop, Sir Thomas Crakenthorpe, Sir John Ormond and others. I explored the consequences of medieval battle in my book Forgotten Women of the Wars of the Roses, and the impact this had on families. Many women were left struggling to manage, maintain and cling on to marital estates after their husbands died in war. Some even left a secular life altogether and entered a religious establishment. 

Many of the dead were buried, unceremoniously, in local churchyards, buried in communal pits or alone, with hastily erected tombs built over them. The Tudor historian John Stow noted that many were buried in Saxton churchyard. In the mid-nineteenth century, when preparing the ground there for a new burial, diggers encountered a pile of bones around five feet thick believed to have been casualties of Towton. On an earlier occasion, in 1794, a 'vast quantity of bones' were discovered in the ground, with 'arrow piles, pieces of broken swords, and five groat pieces of Henry IV, Henry V and Henry VI'. It's possible too, that the dead were buried in mounds in outlying areas. On the battlefield itself, a gold ring was recovered in 1786 decorated with the crest of the Percy family of Northumberland. A silver gilt ring with joined hands was also discovered, along with a spur.

The Yorkists were victorious, and Edward Plantagenet Earl of March made his way to London to be crowned king. The deposed Henry VI and his queen Margaret of Anjou fled, and headed for Scotland to seek further support. Before Edward rode south, he travelled the short distance to York and removed his father's head from Mickelgate Bar, replacing it with those of executed Lancastrian soldiers. 

In the early February of 1776 a man and a woman walked arm in arm together in Yorkshire. Elizabeth Boardingham and Thomas Aikney looked, to all concerned, like a regular Georgian couple that were in love but there was little that was traditional about their affair. For one thing, Elizabeth was already married and as for another, they were whispering plots to commit a brutal murder. 

At the Assizes at York in April 1776 the court heard an account of the murder of John Boardingham, Elizabeth's husband. He had been arrested and imprisoned in York Castle for smuggling and remained there for some time. With her husband securely detained within the brick walls of the prison, Elizabeth invited a lover, Thomas Aikney, into her home to live with her. Elizabeth lived in the village of Flamborough in the East Riding of Yorkshire, close to the coasts and bays of the county and with sweeping views of the mossy cliffs and the Humber nearby. The couple became so attached to one another that on her husband's release, Elizabeth chose to leave her home and travel to live with Thomas in Lincolnshire. 

Johann Lorenz Haid, 1702–1750, Portrait of a Man and Woman, undated, Mezzotint on moderately thick, slightly textured, beige laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Fund, B1970.3.1374. Public Domain. (not Elizabeth and Thomas)

The court heard that it was Elizabeth who was adamant that her husband, recently returned to the couple's marital home, should die. Thomas repeatedly tried to put her off the idea, suggesting they run away and get married instead to start a new life together, but Elizabeth would not be convinced.

On 5 February 1776 the plan was set into motion. Elizabeth returned to her Flamborough home to live with her husband, giving the impression that she had reconciled with him. On the night of the 13 February, at around 11pm, Elizabeth woke her husband sleeping next to her, telling him that she heard a noise at the door and that he should investigate. John diligently swung his legs over the edge of the bed, put on a coat and waistcoat and padded downstairs to the door of their home. But Thomas Aikney was waiting for him. In the cold night Thomas stabbed John in the thigh, removed the knife and then plunged the blade into John's left side, leaving the knife in the wound before running away. John staggered into the street, crying 'Murder!', a trickle of concerned neighbours running towards him in the gloom. John was said to have pulled the knife out of the wound in his side, holding the weapon with one had and trying to hold together the gaping injury together with his other hand. Covered in blood, he survived overnight but died the day after. 

Thomas Aikney was a reluctant and somewhat hapless murderer. His pleas for Elizabeth to abandon the plot and the haphazard way in which he committed the act show that this was a clumsy attempt on John's life and not a thought-out attack by an experienced criminal. His actions convey panic, fleeing the scene and leaving behind the murder weapon lodged in his victim's body. It is likely that the neighbours that John called on for help that night knew all abut Elizabeth and her lover. He had lived in her and John's home and would have been noticed by locals arriving and leaving as he went about his business in the village. It is unsurprising then, that he was quickly caught and stood accused of John's murder. The murder weapon was 'proved' to be Thomas', although the account doesn't state how, and when asked to defend his case, he immediately admitted his guilt. Their relationship, the murder plot and Elizabeth's demands that Thomas commit the act were all unravelled in court, and the couple received sentence of death. Later, Thomas' body was taken to Leeds infirmary 'for dissection'. 

We often hear of similar True Crime stories today, but Georgian Britain wasn't all rosy-cheeked women selling apples, fancy ballroom dances and trips to the theatre. It had a darker side, and Elizabeth, Thomas and John's stories wove into one with fatal consequences for all. These are the true stories of eighteenth-century Britain and are crucial to our understanding of the era.

Liked this? You might also like John Conyers and the Copped Hall Robbery of 1775, Mary Edmondson, Accused Georgian Murderess, and LGBTQ Georgian Britain: Mary East

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