Reviews
The Lady in Red: An Eighteenth-Century Tale of Sex, Scandal, and Divorce by Hallie Rubenhold
bronwynmb's review
4.0
This was really interesting. The Worsleys were fascinating and kind of horrible people. At the beginning, I sort of felt for them, these difficult situations they’re born into (for rich people, of course). As the book went on they just got worse and worse, though still fascinating. Richard especially got a bit hard to read about at times; Seymour was mostly just frivolous. Fascinating stuff!
maplessence's review against another edition
4.0
Crim. Con. was an expression used in at least one of [a:Georgette Heyer|18067|Georgette Heyer|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1336748892p2/18067.jpg]'s novels.
I've now found out more than I ever thought I would have wanted to know about what that slightly odd expression means. (it is an abbreviation of Criminal Conversations.)
Look at these sumptuous Sir Joshua Reynolds portraits.
Lady Worsley
Her portrait had her dressed to match her husband, Sir Richard Worsley. His likeness was taken a few years earlier.
Unfortunately, the Worsleys weren't married long enough for the portraits to ever hang together.
Worsley, monied himself, wanted a wealthy wife. Seymour (yes, that was Lady Worsley's christian name) was very young, frivolous, fun loving and wanted a normal sex life. That was never going to happen with her hubby. To put it mildly, he was a very strange lad indeed.
Not withstanding this, the couple rubbed along quite happily in a ménage à trois with their mutual friend George Bisset. Seymour's second child was fathered by Bisset, but Worsley acknowledged the little girl as his own. But George & Seymour fell in love, circumstances changed where they could no longer live together and they decided to elope.
And that is where the happy part of the story ended, as it turned out that in spite of his unconventional life style, Richard Worsley put a very high value on the proprieties being observed and showed his true colours as a miserly, vindictive man. To modern eyes, George Bisset was no prize either.But just as I was preparing to be thoroughly depressed by another story on how unfair history was to women
I'd say that Seymour was ahead of her time, but Ms Rubenhold mentions quite a few of Seymour's friends that were also very wild. Georgette Heyer's world this is not!
I wouldn't describe Seymour's life story as a totally happy one, (Sir Richard was determined to have her live in poverty, she was separated from her children & possibly was imprisioned during the French Revolution) but it was certainly more exciting than her mean spirited ex! Sir Richard ended up a recluse.
Ms Rubenhold does a great job with this story, even though almost no correspondence from Seymour survives. She rarely resorts to speculation. There were a couple of minor editing errors, but overall this story was a riot and I am glad to have read it.
I've now found out more than I ever thought I would have wanted to know about what that slightly odd expression means. (it is an abbreviation of Criminal Conversations.)
Look at these sumptuous Sir Joshua Reynolds portraits.
Lady Worsley
Her portrait had her dressed to match her husband, Sir Richard Worsley. His likeness was taken a few years earlier.
Unfortunately, the Worsleys weren't married long enough for the portraits to ever hang together.
Worsley, monied himself, wanted a wealthy wife. Seymour (yes, that was Lady Worsley's christian name) was very young, frivolous, fun loving and wanted a normal sex life. That was never going to happen with her hubby. To put it mildly, he was a very strange lad indeed.
Not withstanding this, the couple rubbed along quite happily in a ménage à trois with their mutual friend George Bisset. Seymour's second child was fathered by Bisset, but Worsley acknowledged the little girl as his own. But George & Seymour fell in love, circumstances changed where they could no longer live together and they decided to elope.
And that is where the happy part of the story ended, as it turned out that in spite of his unconventional life style, Richard Worsley put a very high value on the proprieties being observed and showed his true colours as a miserly, vindictive man. To modern eyes, George Bisset was no prize either.
Spoiler
he eventually deserts Seymour when Worley would only give Seymour a separation, not a divorce.Spoiler
Seymour fought back - & wouldn't back down.I'd say that Seymour was ahead of her time, but Ms Rubenhold mentions quite a few of Seymour's friends that were also very wild. Georgette Heyer's world this is not!
I wouldn't describe Seymour's life story as a totally happy one, (Sir Richard was determined to have her live in poverty, she was separated from her children & possibly was imprisioned during the French Revolution) but it was certainly more exciting than her mean spirited ex! Sir Richard ended up a recluse.
Ms Rubenhold does a great job with this story, even though almost no correspondence from Seymour survives. She rarely resorts to speculation. There were a couple of minor editing errors, but overall this story was a riot and I am glad to have read it.
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drewanabri's review against another edition
3.0
There's certainly a lot of good information in this book, but it's missing Rubenhold's signature flair. This book is quite a bit drier than most of her other books and is missing any sense of narrative. It just sort of plods along in a chronological order, frequently interrupting itself to discuss things like the annual salary of the random dude who talked to the Worsleys for a couple minutes.
That being said, this is still a pretty interesting part of history. Rubenhold included a lot of fascinating details and provided a nice sense of context for the Worsleys' scandal.
Overall, I'd recommend it to anyone researching the Worsleys, but it's not a fun book to read. I ended up just sort of picking it up between other series, reading it for a half hour or so, getting bored, and putting it down for a week or two while I read other books.
That being said, this is still a pretty interesting part of history. Rubenhold included a lot of fascinating details and provided a nice sense of context for the Worsleys' scandal.
Overall, I'd recommend it to anyone researching the Worsleys, but it's not a fun book to read. I ended up just sort of picking it up between other series, reading it for a half hour or so, getting bored, and putting it down for a week or two while I read other books.
bronwynmb's review against another edition
4.0
This was really interesting. The Worsleys were fascinating and kind of horrible people. At the beginning, I sort of felt for them, these difficult situations they’re born into (for rich people, of course). As the book went on they just got worse and worse, though still fascinating. Richard especially got a bit hard to read about at times; Seymour was mostly just frivolous. Fascinating stuff!
lou_1440's review against another edition
Might be great, lost me with a very uninteresting first chapter. Also it was due at the library.
librarianonparade's review against another edition
4.0
The Georgian law courts have furnished history with a number of high-profile 'criminal conversation' (adultery) and divorce cases, but few could have been as scandalous and titillating as the case of Worsley v. Bisset. Brought by a minor baronet after his independent-minded and spirited young wife had eloped with her lover, determined to drag both through the courts and ruin his rival, the case engrossed all of England for months, even years. Indeed the interest and gossip spread further afield - even George Washington during the Revolutionary War is known to have purchased a pamphlet on the case.
Of course there is more to the tale than mentioned here, but the full details of the case are best served in the pages of this book, and the final verdict is definitely best left to be discovered! It's a truly enthralling tale, the plot fit for a modern soap opera, and Hallie Rubenhold tells it supremely. I could hardly put this book down.
As a modern woman of course I was entirely on Seymour Worsley's side! I certainly admired her determination to fight back against her neglectful and vengeful husband with all the weapons at her disposal, and one gets the sense Rubenhold does too.
Of course there is more to the tale than mentioned here, but the full details of the case are best served in the pages of this book, and the final verdict is definitely best left to be discovered! It's a truly enthralling tale, the plot fit for a modern soap opera, and Hallie Rubenhold tells it supremely. I could hardly put this book down.
As a modern woman of course I was entirely on Seymour Worsley's side! I certainly admired her determination to fight back against her neglectful and vengeful husband with all the weapons at her disposal, and one gets the sense Rubenhold does too.
wealhtheow's review against another edition
3.0
In 1775, a shallow young baronet married an eighteen year old lady with far more money than looks or learning. They lived tolerably well together for a few years, until at last Lady Seymour Dorothy Fleming Worsley ran away with their mutual friend, Maurice Bisset. The lovers hoped Sir Richard Worsley would initiate divorce proceedings against Lady Worsley so they could marry each other, but Sir Worsley was far too angry to do so. Instead, he sued for separation and further, sued Bisset for a prodigious sum of 20,000 pounds for committing criminal conversation with his wife. Criminal conversation, or "crim con," was basically showing, not that sex necessarily took place, but that there was a possibility of it. The man who "damaged" the husband's "property" by having sex with the wife could be sued for whatever the union--and the wife--was considered an appropriate number. Unfortunately for Sir Worsley, his wife refused to let him financially ruin her lover. She gave the defense a list of her former lovers and flirtations, and had each testify on the stand that she had numerous affairs before she ever ran off with Bisset, and had even been treated for an STI. She ruined her own reputation to such an extent that although the jury found in Sir Worsley's favor, the settlement was placed not at the ruinous 20,000 pounds Sir Worsley demanded, but at a single shilling.
A single shilling!
Sir Worsley was understandably wrathful that he'd dragged his private life into the public eye just to get a single shilling, so he refused to let Lady Worsley have her clothing and jewels (worth nearly 10,000 pounds themselves). Her linen and adornments were her only form of wealth, as women weren't allowed to have property, so this was a serious blow to Lady Worsley. In revenge, she published a sixteen page poem attacking his honor and masculinity, claiming that she'd been forced to take lovers because he was too impotent to perform his marital duties. The pamphlet spread throughout England, was repeatedly reprinted, and caused such a scandalous outcry that Sir Worsley gave in and returned her clothes to her.
Their battle was not yet done. Instead of hiding away in shame that her adultery had been discovered, Lady Worsley became even more of a social butterfly, hanging with the Prince of Wales and his fast, fashionable set. She had a brass plate affixed to the inn she'd hidden in with her lover, proclaiming that it was the place she'd gotten her freedom. She wore breeches(!) to ride horseback astride (!) and got drunk in public. She ran up large debts which, as he was technically still her husband, Sir Worsley was obliged to pay.
First Sir Worsley, then Lady Worsley left England for other, more liberal climes. Sir Worsley toured the Ottoman Empire, amassing an amazing collection of art that he acquired only semi-legally. He tried to buy a pleasure slave but was thwarted by the high prices--he did manage to buy a small black boy, who he beat mercilessly (even by the standards of his contemporaries) and eventually discarded or sold. He became the ambassador to Italy, but lost his position and a fortune in artwork when Napoleon conquered the area. Meanwhile, Lady Worsley lived in France for several years, falling in with the Chevalier de Saint Georges and then barely surviving the revolution. She was perpetually in debt, but eventually Sir Worsley died of a stroke and she got back the fortune she'd brought to their unhappy marriage. Only in her 40s at this point, she immediately married her current paramour, a man in his 20s, and lived happily with him for thirteen years before expiring and leaving her fortune and estate to him and her illegitimate daughter Charlotte (born sometime after her sojourn in France).
It's a fascinating tale, and Rubenhold tells it well. She provides a great deal of legal and historical context, without ever getting bogged down into pedantry. Because I never understand all the allusions and jokes in satirical cartoons of the era, I really appreciated her style of explaining and describing them without losing the humor. Overall, a readable tale that skates that delicate line between gossip and history.
A single shilling!
Sir Worsley was understandably wrathful that he'd dragged his private life into the public eye just to get a single shilling, so he refused to let Lady Worsley have her clothing and jewels (worth nearly 10,000 pounds themselves). Her linen and adornments were her only form of wealth, as women weren't allowed to have property, so this was a serious blow to Lady Worsley. In revenge, she published a sixteen page poem attacking his honor and masculinity, claiming that she'd been forced to take lovers because he was too impotent to perform his marital duties. The pamphlet spread throughout England, was repeatedly reprinted, and caused such a scandalous outcry that Sir Worsley gave in and returned her clothes to her.
Their battle was not yet done. Instead of hiding away in shame that her adultery had been discovered, Lady Worsley became even more of a social butterfly, hanging with the Prince of Wales and his fast, fashionable set. She had a brass plate affixed to the inn she'd hidden in with her lover, proclaiming that it was the place she'd gotten her freedom. She wore breeches(!) to ride horseback astride (!) and got drunk in public. She ran up large debts which, as he was technically still her husband, Sir Worsley was obliged to pay.
First Sir Worsley, then Lady Worsley left England for other, more liberal climes. Sir Worsley toured the Ottoman Empire, amassing an amazing collection of art that he acquired only semi-legally. He tried to buy a pleasure slave but was thwarted by the high prices--he did manage to buy a small black boy, who he beat mercilessly (even by the standards of his contemporaries) and eventually discarded or sold. He became the ambassador to Italy, but lost his position and a fortune in artwork when Napoleon conquered the area. Meanwhile, Lady Worsley lived in France for several years, falling in with the Chevalier de Saint Georges and then barely surviving the revolution. She was perpetually in debt, but eventually Sir Worsley died of a stroke and she got back the fortune she'd brought to their unhappy marriage. Only in her 40s at this point, she immediately married her current paramour, a man in his 20s, and lived happily with him for thirteen years before expiring and leaving her fortune and estate to him and her illegitimate daughter Charlotte (born sometime after her sojourn in France).
It's a fascinating tale, and Rubenhold tells it well. She provides a great deal of legal and historical context, without ever getting bogged down into pedantry. Because I never understand all the allusions and jokes in satirical cartoons of the era, I really appreciated her style of explaining and describing them without losing the humor. Overall, a readable tale that skates that delicate line between gossip and history.