EeHH.CO.UK

All of that is a world away from the London of fictional heroine Frannie Langton, whose turbulent life is the subject of a best-selling novel by Sara Collins which has now been adapted into a major new ITV series, beginning next month. Frannie is a former slave who stands trial at the Old Bailey in 1826 for murdering her master, George Benham, and his eccentric wife, Marguerite, with whom she was having a clandestine affair.

As a drama, this is all irresistible stuff. But it surely bears little resemblance to the real history of the 1800s? In fact, scratch beneath the surface of Georgian high society and you will find a dark world of addiction, enslavement, violence and murder. This went to the very heart of the royal court. In May 1810, George III’s fifth son, Earnest, duke of Cumberland, was found in his bedchamber covered in blood, his valet dead in a nearby room. Although he was cleared of murder, the scandal was slow to recede – understandably so, given the duke’s dubious reputation.

Another of the so-called “mad” king’s sons courted greater controversy. Prince George (known as “Prinny” to his friends) was, critics John and Leigh Hunt contended, “a libertine over head and ears in debt and disgrace”. He admitted to being “rather too fond of wine and women”. His youth had been spent bedding actresses and running up millions of pounds worth of debt.

Prince George’s lifestyle did not end when he became Prince Regent in 1811, following his father’s renewed and severe bout of mental illness. If anything, he reached new levels of excess. Like many of his contemporaries (the fictional Frannie Langton included), he became addicted to laudanum, a liquid form of opium. At the height of his addiction, he would routinely take 100 drops to prepare for a public appearance, enough to knock most people senseless. There was “no limit to his desires, nor any restraint to his profusion”, remarked a scandalised contemporary in 1830, the year of his death. While some physicians promoted laudanum’s medicinal uses – such as to treat coughing and diarrhoea or relieve pain – others condemned it as “a poison by which great numbers are daily destroyed”. 

Run wild: Gin Lane (1751) by Hogarth depicts a scene of the St Giles slums - Guildhall Library & Art Gallery/Heritage Images/Getty Images© Provided by The Telegraph

Georgian society was beset by other addictions, too. Alcoholism was widespread among the poor, and the “gin craze” of the start of the century was still in full swing – vividly illustrated by William Hogarth’s famous Gin Lane print (1751). Gin was cheap and extremely strong and offered a quick release from the unending misery of everyday life. It was sold everywhere, from grocers and street markets to barbers and brothels. So pervasive was it that by the 1740s, gin consumption in Britain had reached an average of more than six gallons per person every year. By 1751, the situation had become so dire that Henry Fielding, author of Tom Jones, predicted there would soon be “few of the common people left to drink it”.

The insatiable demand for “Madame Geneva”, as it was known, led to soaring death rates and prompted a surge in poverty and crime. With no organised police force except the “Bow Street Runners” in London, robberies, violence and murder became rife. By the Regency period, crime had reached epidemic proportions, with everything from pickpocketing and house-breaking to violent brawls and murder, and the situation was veering dangerously out of control. Burglary was so common that many householders would take precautions such as asking neighbours to watch over their properties before they set foot outside. Going for a walk was a dangerous business as there was a very real chance of being set upon by one of the many violent gangs that prowled London’s streets or jostled by a predatory group of prostitutes.

In the absence of police, the government attempted to enforce law and order by deterrent rather than arrest. As the Georgian period progressed, so the penalties for crime grew ever harsher. By the end of the 18th century, there were no fewer than 200 offences that carried the death penalty, including the theft of items with a monetary value that exceeded five shillings.

This was a society in which everything was for sale: drugs, alcohol, sex and slaves. Although Parliament passed the Act for the Abolition of the Slave Trade in 1807, slavery continued in parts of the British Empire. Many of the formerly enslaved persons who had been brought to serve in British households (Frannie included) had little choice but to remain.

Prostitution was also rife in the early 19th century, with an estimated 40,000 street workers in London alone. William Acton, a surgeon specialising in genito-urinary disorders and venereal diseases, claimed to have “counted 185 [prostitutes] in the course of a walk home”. Popular areas for brothels included St Martin’s (now London’s theatre district), St Paul’s and even the newly built streets of Mayfair.

An 1806 depiction of muggers being arrested - Chronicle / Alamy Stock Photo© Provided by The Telegraph

The Georgians also suffered from what has been termed “gambling mania”. One of the earliest illustrations of an addiction that would hold society in its grip for more than a century happened in the reign of the first King George. In 1720, a scheme was mooted for the South Sea Company – established in 1711 to trade with South America – to take over part of the government debt. Even though the company had no trade, this immediately prompted wild speculation. “No one is satisfied with even exorbitant gains, but everyone thirsts for more, and all this founded upon the machine of paper credit supported only by imagination,” complained Edward Harley, whose brother had founded the scheme. Many gambled their whole fortunes on what they regarded as a sure prospect. George I himself ventured a considerable sum. Within weeks, the price of stock had risen tenfold.

The inevitable crash, when it came, wreaked widespread devastation. Thousands were rendered destitute overnight. Those who had enjoyed a brief glimpse of high society were cast back down into its dregs, and many aristocratic families were ruined. “There never was such a universal confusion and distraction as at this time,” reflected one observer, while the poet Alexander Pope reflected that the whole sorry affair had come “like a thief in the night, exactly as it happens in the case of our death”.

Dismay and devastation were rapidly followed by anger and revolt, most of which centred – rather unfairly – on George I. All the anti-German feeling that had been bubbling under the surface since the king’s accession six years earlier burst out in a torrent of protests, propaganda and violence. This in turn fuelled the Jacobite cause, which sought to oust the Hanoverians and restore the exiled King James II and his descendants to the throne.

Jane Austen would neither approve nor recognise the world that Frannie Langton inhabited. But this new drama arguably brings us closer to Georgian England – with all its dangers, vices and addictions – than the genteel world of Elizabeth Bennet.

Tracy Borman’s books include King’s Mistress, Queen’s Servant: The Life and Times of Henrietta Howard. The Confessions of Frannie Langton starts on ITVX on Dec 8