writes Captain Gronow, “much finesse, and a host of intrigues were set in motion to get an invitation to Almack’s.  Very often persons whose rank and fortunes entitled them to the entree anywhere, were excluded by the cliqueism of the Lady patronesses; for the female government of Almack’s was a despotism, and subject to all the caprice of despotic rule.  It is needless to say that, like every other despotism, it was not innocent of abuses.”

The fair ladies who ruled supreme over this little dancing and gossiping world issued a solemn proclamation that no gentleman should appear at the assemblies without being dressed in knee-breeches, white cravat, and chapeau bras. On one occasion, the Duke of Wellington was about to ascend the staircase of the ballroom, dressed in black trousers, when the vigilant Mr Willis, the guardian of the establishment, stepped forward and said, “Your Grace cannot be admitted in trousers,” whereupon the Duke, who had a great respect for orders and regulations, quietly walked away.

Another inflexible rule of the club was that no one should be admitted after eleven o’clock; and it was a breach of this regulation that once overwhelmed the Duke of Wellington with humiliation.  One evening, the Duke, who had promised to meet Lady Mornington at Almack’s, presented himself for admission.  “Lady Jersey,” announced an attendant, “the Duke of Wellington is at the door, and desires to be admitted.”  “What o’clock is it?” she asked.  “Seven minutes after eleven, your Ladyship.”  She paused for a moment, and then said with emphasis and distinctness, “Give my compliments—­Lady Jersey’s compliments—­to the Duke of Wellington, and say that she is very glad that the first enforcement of the rule of exclusion is such that, hereafter, no one can complain of its application.  He cannot be admitted.”  And the Duke, whom even Napoleon with all his legions had been powerless to turn back, was compelled to retreat before the capricious will of a woman.

Such an autocrat was this “Queen of Almack’s.”

“While her colleagues were debating,” says the author of the “Key to Almack’s,” “she decided.  Hers was the master-spirit that ruled the whole machine; hers the eloquent tongue that could both persuade and command.  And she was never idle.  Her restless eye pried into everything; she set the world to rights; her influence was resistless, her determination uncontrollable.”

“Treat people like fools, and they will worship you,” was her favourite maxim.  And as Bryon, her intimate friend, once said, “She was the veriest tyrant that ever governed Fashion’s fools, and compelled them to shake their cap and bells as she willed.”

It was at Almack’s, it is interesting to recall, that Lady Jersey first introduced the quadrille from Paris.

“I recollect,” says Captain Gronow, “the persons who formed the first quadrille that was ever danced there.  They were Lady Jersey, Lady Harriet Buller, Lady Susan Ryder, and Miss Montgomery; the men being the Count St Aldegonde, Mr Montgomery, and Charles Standisti.”

It was at Almack’s, too, that she introduced the waltz, which so shocked the proprieties even in that easy-going age.