The Pursuits and Proclivities of (Rich) Regency Men
- Q&Q Publishing
- 1 day ago
- 11 min read
By Jessie Lewis, author of Enamoured

Jane Austen gives us a uniquely female perspective of the male characters in her stories, only providing direct commentary on their actions when they are part of a scene with the women, and leaving us to guess how they spend their time when they are off the page. What, then, are we to suppose they were up to?
They would not all, of course, have been doing the same things. Austen’s men all have varying degrees of wealth, social standing and probity. Some had to work—and work hard—for a living, leaving them limited hours for much else. Robert Martin in Emma for example, whose farming lifestyle would have offered little in the way of leisure time. Others, though they had occupations, had more opportunity to seek out their pleasure. Think Mr Wickham, in Pride and Prejudice, whose commission in the militia did not prevent him from running up considerable gambling debts everywhere he went, or Persuasion’s Captain Wentworth, whose hard-won wealth from a career in the navy afforded him a life of comfort and leisure whenever he was not at sea.

Then there are the members of the landed gentry—Mr Darcy, Mr Knightly, Mr Ferrars and the like—and one thing we can be sure they were doing very little of is work. If there was any of that to be done, they paid someone else to do it for them, often employing dozens of staff for the purpose. God forbid one of them should have to button his own waistcoat, open his own front door, cook his own dinner, or—gasp!—manage his own estate. Every manner of servant from the lowly dairy maid to the highly regarded land steward was on hand to take care of all that while the gentlemen got on with the absolutely essential business of parading around looking hot and brooding in breeches and riding boots.
Even so, mooning over pretty young girls in morning rooms and insulting them at balls also takes up surprisingly little time, when you examine the chronology of Austen’s stories. The men are apart from their female counterparts for far longer than they are with them, and not one of the romantic pairings in her is books is initiated because the man has deliberately gone in search of love. Austen makes this clear with the famously facetious assertion that “a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife,” —an assertion that she instantly has Mr Bennet contradict when he points out to his wife that Mr Bingley has almost certainly not settled in Hertfordshire with the design of marrying one of their daughters.

The truth is more likely to have been that Bingley and Darcy had come to Hertfordshire for entertainment. A country house party with shooting, hunting, cards, food and drink is just the ticket to relax after a long hard Season in London filled with dancing, shopping, cards, food and drink… As Jennifer Kloester points out in Georgette Heyer’s Regency World, “In Regency England, men determined the legal, social, and political order of things, and for many men in the moneyed upper ten thousand, it was a hedonistic time devoted to entertainment, merriment and debauchery.”
Life was one long party for these guys. Even those we might consider more restrained would still have engaged in a certain amount of entertainments, because it was expected of them; established families of the upper ranks put on a show of wealth and excess in order to maintain their social standing. Only Austen can know how she imagined each of her leading men would enjoy such obligations, but it seems likely that when she has Colonel Fitzwilliam tell us Mr Darcy is “lively enough in other places,” we can assume she meant that he was perfectly capable of having a good time.
Here’s a look at some of entertainments available to Regency men with money and time on their hands:
Clubs
Gentleman’s clubs were meeting places where a man could see his friends, eat, drink, smoke, play cards, gamble, read the paper, and generally luxuriate in all-male company. There were many of them, some more famous than others. The better known ones were in London: White’s, Boodle’s, Watier’s and Brooks’s. Membership was by nomination and ballot, with a man’s descent and fortune weighing heavily on his chances of success. Many had a political affiliation, although some clubs deliberately maintained neutrality.

Other men’s establishments included the Daffy Club, famous for its association with gin and boxing; the Royal Cock-pit, demolished in 1816 but famed until then for its rowdy betting on the eponymous cock fights; the Peerless Pool, London’s first public outdoor swimming pool (women could technically swim here too, but not ones who cared about their reputations), and the Westminster Pit, where men of all classes gathered to watch dog-fights.
Eating, Drinking, and Other Tipples
When a man was not eating at home or being entertained at a friend’s house, he could always eat out. Ian Mortimer, author of The Time Traveller’s Guide to Regency Britain, tells us about The Epicure’s Almanack by Ralph Rylance, a sort of Regency good food guide, which “lists almost 600 places to eat [in London], advising you on all their respective specialities.” There were cook shops and eating houses, both of which served spit-roasted meat sold by the weight, cook houses being takeaway only and eating houses providing tables. Taverns, inns, and—towards the end of the Regency—restaurants, offered more comfortable dining and somewhat more varied menus. No woman of good reputation would be seen in an eating house, and in taverns and inns, they were encouraged to use private parlours, but a man could fill his belly wherever he chose, and there were no shortage of options available.
Meals were invariably accompanied by alcohol. In fact, most things were, never mind just food. As Robert Morrison in his book The Regency Revolution, puts it, “The Regency was a hard-drinking age, and convivial evenings at every social level were heated by sometimes astonishing amounts of alcohol.” Wines were generally the preserve of the upper classes, with whiskey, cider, rum and gin favoured among the lower urban classes. Beer was liked and drunk by everyone. Indeed, Daniel Pool tells us in What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, that “Throughout the century, the English consumed annually about thirty gallons of beer per capita.”
A Regency gentleman could buy in whatever tipple he chose to drink at home, but if he wished to go out on the town, there plenty of establishments to sate his appetite for alcohol. Gin houses, generally set up with long bars and no stools, sold absurdly strong gin to increasingly addicted drinkers. Public houses and inns were better known for their beers and offered more comfortable surroundings, often with newspapers to read and lounge chairs to, well, lounge in. Gentlemen’s clubs sold high quality spirits and wine. Alcohol was readily available everywhere, and rare was the entertainment that was not accompanied by an alcoholic beverage of some sort. As such, most of the things Regency men did, they likely did at least a little bit drunk.

And if you thought that was bad, a huge number of them were also in an opiate-induced haze as well. In The Regency Revolution, Robert Morrison explains it was during the Regency that laudanum usage changed from medicinal to pleasure. It was the drug of fashion, with many notable men using it—poets Keats, Coleridge, and Byron, the actor John Kemble, and perhaps most famously, the Prince Regent himself. Reportedly, the politician and abolitionist William Wilberforce was so badly addicted that he became seriously ill upon once missing a dose.
If men didn’t manage to ruin themselves with cirrhosis of the liver or a morphine overdose, there was always smoking to wreck their lungs and rot their teeth. Seen as rather uncouth, smoking was generally not done in front of women but kept as a masculine pursuit. Away from disapproving female eyes, however, pipes, cigars, and cheroots were all smoked during the era, and many large houses had dedicated smoking rooms where men could indulge away from their wives or daughters. Snuff was a more socially acceptable method of consuming tobacco, and men and women indulged in the habit.
On the rare occasion that a man sobered up enough to want something else to drink, he might have visited a coffee house. These were male-only places where one could drink coffee, read the papers, and catch up on current affairs. Due to the absence of alcohol-induced nonsense, discussion was more serious, and they increasingly became places where political debate and economic progress were debated.
Sport and Exercise
It will come as no surprise that a large subsection of society with very little else to do will spend a lot of time playing sports. There was a plethora of diversions for the Regency gentleman to choose from: cricket, fishing, real tennis, archery, billiards, chess, horse riding and racing, carriage racing, hunting, shooting, boxing, fencing, polo…they were up for pretty much anything.

According to Morrison, “Boxing was the sporting craze of the Regency.” Prize fights were technically illegal, although royal and noble interest meant events were mostly overlooked. It was perfectly acceptable, however, for gentleman to train in the sport, and establishments such as Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon gained vast popularity, with members including Lord Byron, the Dukes of York and Hamilton, and the Prince of Wales.
No self-respecting gentleman would go into the world unable to fence, and as well as tutelage from private masters, celebrated schools such as Angelo's Fencing Academy provided a place for the gentry and nobility to hone their skills.
Carriage racing was popularised by the fashion for ever faster, ever sleeker, ever more expensive carriages, and epitomised by the famous Four-Horse Club. Anne Woodley writes on the Jane Austen blog that “Originally…the Four-Horse club had been a wild group of young men who enjoyed bribing coachmen to give them the reins to the vehicles and then driving them at break-neck speeds along the very poor British Roads. By the early nineteenth century, it was a respectable club for superb drivers. At its peak it only had some 30-40 members.”

When the men were away from London, in the summer and autumn months, “The country squire’s traditional attachment to his land naturally led to the development of hunting and shooting as country sports.” (Voices from the World of Jane Austen, Malcolm Day.) Foxes were hunted, deer were stalked, and grouse, partridge, pheasant, hares, and rabbits were fodder for shooting parties. Weeks at a time were spent at one friend’s country house or another, trying to kill off the local fauna. All whilst drunk, of course, as Day reminds us:
“During the summer recess of Parliament, which extended into October, Horace Walpole would invite his friends up to his lodge in Norfolk, according to Lord Hervery: To hunt, be noisy, jolly, drunk, comical and pure merry.”
It’s a miracle they killed anything other them themselves.
Politics
Some men spent their time engaged in more serious pursuits, which was lucky, because someone had to run the country. Elected MPs (members of parliament) sat in the House of Commons and debated and passed legislation. The House of Lords was (and still is) made up of unelected members of nobility. It was their job to scrutinise the legislation proposed in the House of Commons, essentially being a check on their decision. Attendance was not compulsory, and it was not uncommon for Lords to eschew their duty to the house in favour of all the above-mentioned entertainments. Even those who did attend assiduously were only required to do so whilst parliament was in session, which during the Regency ranged between a November/February opening and a June/July close. The rest of the year they were free as birds.

Some politicians were much more active. An embarrassingly large number were preoccupied with trying to maintain the vast privileges and excesses of the upper classes, but some—Abolitionist William Wilberforce and Social Reformist Francis Place, for example—campaigned tirelessly for amendments which have secured profound and lasting change for the better. Others were involved in the law on a more local level, acting as unpaid Justices of the peace. Their responsibilities included ensuring public order, investigating crimes, resolving local disputes, presiding over petty and quarter sessions, managing the Poor Law, and licensing alehouses.
Science & Self-Enlightenment
The industrial revolution was swinging into motion at this time, and innovations in mechanisation and steam power were fundamentally changing the country. For the landed gentry, this had a huge impact on their way of life and incomes, and the lives of all their tenants. Indeed, discovery and innovation in all areas was generally gaining pace as social mobility, increased education and general advancements in scientific understanding grew.
Men who wished to learn more could attend talks, join or patronise scientific academies, and read books, pamphlets, or newspapers on the topics. Morrison draws our attention to Humphry Davy, a leading scientist of the time, who was “an outstanding lecturer—eloquent, imaginative, highly knowledgeable—and his crowd-pleasing talks and demonstrations at the Royal Institution greatly increased the prestige of science.”
The Arts
This was, after all, the age of Romanticism. It was considered de rigueur to either create, appreciate, or patronise the arts in some way. Art galleries, libraries, theatres, museums, poetry readings, musical recitals—the Regency gentleman was surrounded by art at every turn. But if that was not enough, he could engage in a Grand Tour. These were less popular in the Regency than they had been in the previous century—not least because large swathes of the Continent were embroiled in a messy and bloody war—but they did still happen. Young men travelled about Europe, obtaining culturally significant artefacts (occasionally by morally questionable means) and brought them home to prove their great affinity for the arts.

Sex
I don’t think it would be speaking out of turn to suggest that this has always been a favourite past time of men. Regency men (and women, actually) were a lot less priggish about sex than their later Victorian counterparts. A man, of course, did not have to worry about his reputation as a woman did, and he could engage in extra or premarital sex with relative impunity. Discretion was advised, but class, as always, played an important role in determining who it was ‘safe’ for him to seduce. If a single gentleman so much as kissed a woman of the same social standing, she could reasonably take it as a commitment to matrimony. If he wooed a maid, or the daughter of a labourer, there was unlikely to be a blemish left upon his reputation. Hers was another matter, particularly if she fell pregnant.

When pregnancy occurred, the woman was invariably held responsible and became an outcast. The man, though perhaps tutted at sternly, was not ostracised for either his part in the act itself or her subsequent ruin. He was, however, considered the greatest sort of rogue if he did not support the child.
Affairs were widespread; at the very top of society, where arranged marriages were still common and love matches few and far between, men often kept one or more mistresses, and provided the paternity of any children could not be questioned, the women could occasionally get away with affairs as well. As one moves down the social ladder, towards the sphere that Austen writes about, women’s freedoms become far fewer, but men continued to enjoy a certain degree of impunity. We see many of her characters engage in affairs, or premarital sex, and either have or are illegitimate children.
Men who did not wish to keep mistresses could seek their pleasure in brothels or with the courtesans who haunted the theatres and taverns of the West End. Prostitutes were occasionally provided at private house parties, and orgies were not unheard of, particularly among the aforementioned drunk and laudanum-laced population.
This all meant that sexually transmitted infections were rife, and thus another way that many Regency men spent their time was undergoing the sometimes horrific treatments for venereal disease.
Anything else?
I’ve barely scratched the surface of all the daft and daring things that Regency men go up to in their spare time. I’ve not touched on their penchant for getting themselves indebted for gambling, imprisoned for debt, killed in duels of honour, idolised for being leaders of fashion, or exiled for falling out of fashion. In short, the Regency man made an art of having nothing to do by filling his days with “a succession of busy nothings.” (Mansfield Park, Jane Austen.)
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References
Mansfield Park, Jane Austen
Georgette Heyer’s Regency World, Jennifer Kloester
The Time Traveller’s Guide to Regency Britain, Ian Mortimer
The Regency Revolution, Robert Morrison
Voices from the World of Jane Austen, Malcolm Day
What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, Daniel Pool
The Regency Revolution, Robert Morrison
Illustrations (all public domain)
The Necessary Qualifications of a Man of Fashion (set of 12), Daniel Thomas Egerton
Watercolor of Henry Angelo's Fencing Academy, Thomas Rowlandson, 1787.
William Wilberforce, Anton Hickel, 1794
The Royal Academy, James Gillray, Yale Center for British Art
Wild Duck Shooting, James Pollard, Yale Center for British Art
Drags of the Four-in-Hand Club by Samuel Henry Alken, Berger Collection, Denver
Jerry in Training for a 'Swell' for Pierce Egan's "Life in London," Isaac Robert and George Cruikshank
A Dandy’s Toilette, artist unknown 1818
Gentlemen on. the Grand Tour, John Corbet
Kickup at the Hazard Table, Thomas Rowlandson
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