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The Covent Garden Ladies: Pimp General Jack & The Extraordinary Story of Harris' List
The Covent Garden Ladies tells the story of Samuel Derrick, Jack Harris, and Charlotte Hayes, whose complicated and colorful lives were brought together by the publication of Harris' List, an infamous guidebook of prostitutes which detailed addresses, physical characteristics and "specialties." The true history of the book is a tragicomedy motivated by poverty, passionate love, aspiration, and shame. Its telling plunges the reader down the dark alleys of 18th-century London's underworld, a realm populated by tavern owners, pimps, punters, card sharps, and of course, a colorful range of prostitutes and brothel-keepers.
318 pages, Hardcover
First published April 1, 2005
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5547 people want to read
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June 29, 2014
This is a great little book. I'd heard of Harris's List from my studies of the period at university, and had read some extracts from it. This book traces the interweaving stories of three of the people involved in its production, and in doing so, introduces a lot of other personalities and explores a lot of the issues.
There are a lot of the usual problems in writing social history of the poor - the relative lack of documentary evidence, and the propensity of people to change their names, does make it hard to piece together people's lives - and sometimes the author is forced to rely on conjecture. None of her conjectures are unreasonable but some are longer reaches than others, especially when it comes to what one or other of the people must have felt.
But these are quibbles. It's an engaging, accessible account, which is sensitively written. It is compassionate to the women (and men) who found themselves drawn - or forced - into prostitution. It acknowledges that for some it was a good career choice, while recognising that for many it was exploitative and horrid. It explores the prevailing gender stereotypes that drove the trade and the attitudes towards prostitutes and their clients, and in a move that made my feminist heart glad, it includes an appendix, listing four pages of names of men who regularly used prostitutes - the men who, as the author points out, have been able evade the scrutiny and judgement heaped on the women who serviced them.
It did strike me how much our sexual 'morality' has changed. We regard the 18th century - especially in terms of high society - as a time of rigid sexual morality compared to our own. Certainly, any breath of impropriety could ruin a woman's reputation - and chance of a decent life - forever. Same sex relationships were illegal and harshly punished. But by modern standards, many of the men on that list - who no doubt felt themselves blameless and were pillars of society - would be regarded as criminals. Many of these girls were children. Many 'seductions' were, in fact, rapes. Many of these 'filles de joie' were no more than indentured slaves. People who condemn modern morality and long for a return to old fashioned values would do well to remember that.
This book is a welcome antidote to the over-romanticisation of the Regency period. I like a Regency romance as much as anyone, but this provides a good companion piece.
There are a lot of the usual problems in writing social history of the poor - the relative lack of documentary evidence, and the propensity of people to change their names, does make it hard to piece together people's lives - and sometimes the author is forced to rely on conjecture. None of her conjectures are unreasonable but some are longer reaches than others, especially when it comes to what one or other of the people must have felt.
But these are quibbles. It's an engaging, accessible account, which is sensitively written. It is compassionate to the women (and men) who found themselves drawn - or forced - into prostitution. It acknowledges that for some it was a good career choice, while recognising that for many it was exploitative and horrid. It explores the prevailing gender stereotypes that drove the trade and the attitudes towards prostitutes and their clients, and in a move that made my feminist heart glad, it includes an appendix, listing four pages of names of men who regularly used prostitutes - the men who, as the author points out, have been able evade the scrutiny and judgement heaped on the women who serviced them.
It did strike me how much our sexual 'morality' has changed. We regard the 18th century - especially in terms of high society - as a time of rigid sexual morality compared to our own. Certainly, any breath of impropriety could ruin a woman's reputation - and chance of a decent life - forever. Same sex relationships were illegal and harshly punished. But by modern standards, many of the men on that list - who no doubt felt themselves blameless and were pillars of society - would be regarded as criminals. Many of these girls were children. Many 'seductions' were, in fact, rapes. Many of these 'filles de joie' were no more than indentured slaves. People who condemn modern morality and long for a return to old fashioned values would do well to remember that.
This book is a welcome antidote to the over-romanticisation of the Regency period. I like a Regency romance as much as anyone, but this provides a good companion piece.
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October 7, 2021Interesting look at prostitution, sexual and literary, in Georgian London, via Harris' List. This makes for fairly grim reading in the utter callousness of the time about rape, child abuse, misogyny, and the lack of any help for the desperate destitute. The author quotes a long string of Harris 'reviews' of the sex workers, chirpily smutty accounts that frequently seem not to notice they're describing women in hell, and you do kind of want to set fire to pretty much every man in the eighteenth century.
However. It's an interesting read. The author acknowledges we're mostly seeing these women through exploitative male eyes; their voices are long gone. At least we get a sense of Charlotte Hayes, bred to prostitution, who became successful and was unquestionably loved and happy, at least sometimes.
However. It's an interesting read. The author acknowledges we're mostly seeing these women through exploitative male eyes; their voices are long gone. At least we get a sense of Charlotte Hayes, bred to prostitution, who became successful and was unquestionably loved and happy, at least sometimes.
March 30, 2018
On the plus side, this book is a compelling narrative about figures we don't hear much of in history, namely prominent members of London's underworld during the Georgian Era. Rubenhold's prose is good and it's a fast read.
Rubenhold's obvious disdain for her titular subjects is the book's major weakness and oh man, it's a big one. While she's not without pity for the titular Covent Garden Ladies, that pity is mixed with enough disdain to make it feel disturbingly familiar to actual Georgian and Victorian middle to upper class writings. You might hope some things have changed in the last centuries but apparently, not for Rubenhold. While she acknowledges many of these women had little choice in their given profession, she also describes their work as sacrificing their integrity, a frankly baffling and archaic moral read on the whole situation. She also wants you to know they were gross! REALLY gross! We get references to "whores", "harlots", "foul mouthed, tipple loving prostitutes", "writhing" posture girls (posture girls being something of the 18th century equivalent to a modern day stripper) and brothels that "infested" London. She also puts scare quotes around "ladies", just to be sure we get it. It's jarring to read Rubenhold whipping back and forth between pity and disdain, but the two seem closely intermingled, much as they were for actual 18th century commentators.
The main focuses of the book are Jack Harris, a pimp, Samuel Derrick, a failed middle class Irish poet and Harris' copywriter, Charlotte Hayes, a courtesan-turned-madam, and Dennis O'Kelly, Charlotte's common law husband, horse breeder and co operator of her brothels. All four of her central protagonists commit appalling acts and all four of them seem to escape the stinging disdain she lavishes on any female sex worker who isn't Charlotte. Her admonishments to take these people as products of their time would be a little more compelling if she hadn't spent so much time criticizing women who did far less. O'Kelly's attempted rape of a young noblewoman and his subsequent arrest is described as English society putting him in his place. Maybe there's a grain of truth in this, as upper class Englishmen rarely suffered consequences for the same act. But it's just jarring to read after reading paragraphs slamming poor women for having the nerve to pick up a bottle of gin. Hayes is a compelling figure, and not an unsympathetic one, who both faced horrific abuse and inflicted it on others as a madam. But it's hard not to feel like Rubenhold is comparatively easy on her due to her high earnings and relatively demure personality. It's not that I'd exactly prefer to see her deny any sympathy to Hayes, who in my view is worthy of a nuanced look, but surely her crimes (such as kidnapping twelve year olds) are more serious than being "foul mouthed" or "tipple loving".
The real nail in the coffin here is the sourcing. I've read a lot of historical biographies that I didn't particularly like or agree with, but I was at least able to find and trace sources. Rubenhold does provide a bibliography but her chapters are littered with quote marks that don't seem to have any particular attributed source. Her notes explain the meaning of specific terms, but they don't actually point to where she got her quotes or provide any context for them. I have never seen this in a historical biography before and it's extremely shoddy. I might say this book was worth it for the information alone, but the mess that is her notes pretty much kills that. Don't read.
Rubenhold's obvious disdain for her titular subjects is the book's major weakness and oh man, it's a big one. While she's not without pity for the titular Covent Garden Ladies, that pity is mixed with enough disdain to make it feel disturbingly familiar to actual Georgian and Victorian middle to upper class writings. You might hope some things have changed in the last centuries but apparently, not for Rubenhold. While she acknowledges many of these women had little choice in their given profession, she also describes their work as sacrificing their integrity, a frankly baffling and archaic moral read on the whole situation. She also wants you to know they were gross! REALLY gross! We get references to "whores", "harlots", "foul mouthed, tipple loving prostitutes", "writhing" posture girls (posture girls being something of the 18th century equivalent to a modern day stripper) and brothels that "infested" London. She also puts scare quotes around "ladies", just to be sure we get it. It's jarring to read Rubenhold whipping back and forth between pity and disdain, but the two seem closely intermingled, much as they were for actual 18th century commentators.
The main focuses of the book are Jack Harris, a pimp, Samuel Derrick, a failed middle class Irish poet and Harris' copywriter, Charlotte Hayes, a courtesan-turned-madam, and Dennis O'Kelly, Charlotte's common law husband, horse breeder and co operator of her brothels. All four of her central protagonists commit appalling acts and all four of them seem to escape the stinging disdain she lavishes on any female sex worker who isn't Charlotte. Her admonishments to take these people as products of their time would be a little more compelling if she hadn't spent so much time criticizing women who did far less. O'Kelly's attempted rape of a young noblewoman and his subsequent arrest is described as English society putting him in his place. Maybe there's a grain of truth in this, as upper class Englishmen rarely suffered consequences for the same act. But it's just jarring to read after reading paragraphs slamming poor women for having the nerve to pick up a bottle of gin. Hayes is a compelling figure, and not an unsympathetic one, who both faced horrific abuse and inflicted it on others as a madam. But it's hard not to feel like Rubenhold is comparatively easy on her due to her high earnings and relatively demure personality. It's not that I'd exactly prefer to see her deny any sympathy to Hayes, who in my view is worthy of a nuanced look, but surely her crimes (such as kidnapping twelve year olds) are more serious than being "foul mouthed" or "tipple loving".
The real nail in the coffin here is the sourcing. I've read a lot of historical biographies that I didn't particularly like or agree with, but I was at least able to find and trace sources. Rubenhold does provide a bibliography but her chapters are littered with quote marks that don't seem to have any particular attributed source. Her notes explain the meaning of specific terms, but they don't actually point to where she got her quotes or provide any context for them. I have never seen this in a historical biography before and it's extremely shoddy. I might say this book was worth it for the information alone, but the mess that is her notes pretty much kills that. Don't read.
December 31, 2021
Apparently this book was an inspiration for the tv show Harlots, which I haven't seen. I picked it up for two reasons. One because I read Hallie Rubenhold's book about the five victims of jack the ripper and two because to get more "backstory" on one of my top favorite books ever (The crimson petal and the white by Michel Faber ) as it revolves around a young woman in that tragic life situation. I love the way the author writes her non fiction, they are readable and very easy to learn without being overwhelmed. Tragic but interesting
May 13, 2020
I picked this up because I heard it inspired the TV show Harlots, and it was absolutely fascinating.
Review to come.
Read for Medievalathon.
Review to come.
Read for Medievalathon.
October 2, 2021
After reading Hallie Rubenfold'The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Rippers, I suppose I was expecting the same level of intrigue and suspense. I did enjoy parts of this book, but certainly not all.
The book reads like a biography, but it was like three biographies entwined together, and it explains how the three people knew one another, and how they came to be in one another's lives. Covent Garden is probably one of my favourite parts of London, not just because of it's attractiveness, but because it houses the famous Moomin Shop, so one can probably imagine why I was eager to read this and learn about the ladies that roamed the streets there.
There were many stories about the women that turned to prostitution here, and obviously the majority didn't choose that life, being manipulated into it by an arrogant male. I got the vibe here the the males were congratulated for doing such a deed, and a lack of criticism prevailed. This to me is strange, as I would feel nothing but contempt.
There was a rather long, bit interesting list of the Covent Garden women, which comprised of names, addresses, personalities of these women, and the kind of sex speciality that they offered.
This was readable, but parts I had to skim through really, but overall, this gives an insight into the ghastly conditions that women lived and worked in during that time.
The book reads like a biography, but it was like three biographies entwined together, and it explains how the three people knew one another, and how they came to be in one another's lives. Covent Garden is probably one of my favourite parts of London, not just because of it's attractiveness, but because it houses the famous Moomin Shop, so one can probably imagine why I was eager to read this and learn about the ladies that roamed the streets there.
There were many stories about the women that turned to prostitution here, and obviously the majority didn't choose that life, being manipulated into it by an arrogant male. I got the vibe here the the males were congratulated for doing such a deed, and a lack of criticism prevailed. This to me is strange, as I would feel nothing but contempt.
There was a rather long, bit interesting list of the Covent Garden women, which comprised of names, addresses, personalities of these women, and the kind of sex speciality that they offered.
This was readable, but parts I had to skim through really, but overall, this gives an insight into the ghastly conditions that women lived and worked in during that time.
November 29, 2018
An interesting story, sensitively told, The Covent Garden Ladies fleshes out what life was like for both men and women in Georgian London, through the eyes of three of its players: Jack Harris, Samuel Derrick and Charlotte Hayes. I would like to have seen more details r.e. individual women beyond Charlotte Hayes. The women mentioned are seen almost exclusively through the male gaze; it would be nice if some of them had a chance to tell their own stories but perhaps source material is limited. The read has given me a new perspective on Harlots.
March 30, 2012
The title did not do justice to this book. Indeed, it almost kept me from reading it. What it is is a group biography of three people involved with prostitution in mid-1700s London. The author weaves their stories together in a way that illuminates their sordid world.
Rubenhold manages to find a way of telling this story that avoids both prurience and fingerpointing, letting the story arouse our outrage instead of telling us to be outraged. She gives us the information we need to draw our own conclusions.
Very impressive.
My only quibble is that much of the information comes from fake biographies published by hack writers which may be largely fiction. A bit more discussion of her sources in the text would have been illuminating. I understand how limited valid sources would be for a book like this, I just wanted a little more insight into what we know about these sources.
This is the latest of a long series of books I've read that make it clear how little respect any modern person should give the British ruling class. As Rubenfeld states, their sexual tastes would have put most of them in prison today, and they would have deserved it. They delighted in rape, especially that of children. They had no compunctions about having people kidnapped for their sexual use. Why do so many people romanticize these people and continue to think there was something magical about their "high birth?"
And what is it about British culture that makes their ruling class so prone to sexually abuse children? Though Rubenfeld seems to think this was confined to the 18th century, the biography of Waugh I just read made it clear that social acceptance of the sexual abuse of children (in that case boys) was common well into the 20th century. And child prostitution, too, as long as the children were not of one's exalted social class.
Very radicalizing!
Rubenhold manages to find a way of telling this story that avoids both prurience and fingerpointing, letting the story arouse our outrage instead of telling us to be outraged. She gives us the information we need to draw our own conclusions.
Very impressive.
My only quibble is that much of the information comes from fake biographies published by hack writers which may be largely fiction. A bit more discussion of her sources in the text would have been illuminating. I understand how limited valid sources would be for a book like this, I just wanted a little more insight into what we know about these sources.
This is the latest of a long series of books I've read that make it clear how little respect any modern person should give the British ruling class. As Rubenfeld states, their sexual tastes would have put most of them in prison today, and they would have deserved it. They delighted in rape, especially that of children. They had no compunctions about having people kidnapped for their sexual use. Why do so many people romanticize these people and continue to think there was something magical about their "high birth?"
And what is it about British culture that makes their ruling class so prone to sexually abuse children? Though Rubenfeld seems to think this was confined to the 18th century, the biography of Waugh I just read made it clear that social acceptance of the sexual abuse of children (in that case boys) was common well into the 20th century. And child prostitution, too, as long as the children were not of one's exalted social class.
Very radicalizing!
June 21, 2021
4.5
review coming soon
review coming soon
July 12, 2022
I probably would have enjoyed this more if it weren't for the narrator. Her voice felt as though it were trying to be sensual all the time, which felt a bit inappropriate for a large portion of the book.
*NOTE: The narrator is different than the one Goodreads listed here. The narrator on the library copy that I borrowed was Lucy Rayner.
*NOTE: The narrator is different than the one Goodreads listed here. The narrator on the library copy that I borrowed was Lucy Rayner.
May 10, 2017
Not as much about the show Harlots on Hulu as I thought
June 11, 2022
After reading 'The Five' I had high expectations for this book. Some interesting elements and overall a really fascinating topic, however I found the way it was written made it a difficult read.
December 12, 2025
This book turned out not to be what I expected... and I knew it wouldn't be like the show Harlots - my favorite watch of last year - and that it was an historical non-fiction book!!! My problem was I excepted less content about men...
The book stars by focusing on three characters, Sam Derrick, Jack Harris and Charlotte Hayes, with a chapter for each one in the first half, and I found myself putting the book aside everytime we got to one of the men - a poet and pub worker - that I couldn't care less about...
It's not until chapter 9 and 10 that the book gives me exactly what I expected from the book, focusing on the creation of the Harris's List and then the women featured in that list, showing examples and excerpts of multiple surviving editions of the Lists. I loved learning that and the focus on them or Charlotte Hayes were excellent parts of the read, the book excelled in what I expected it to be (it was the other parts that drag it on)...
Honestly, I would only recommend this book, if you know going in, that there's a big part of it not focusing on the sex work itself, but on the men enjoying it... if you know and don't mind that, it will be an excellent read!!! Also I recommend to read this in parallel with Puta feminista: Historias de una trabajadora sexual, which makes it a very interesting parallel with modern description/story of sex work!!
The book stars by focusing on three characters, Sam Derrick, Jack Harris and Charlotte Hayes, with a chapter for each one in the first half, and I found myself putting the book aside everytime we got to one of the men - a poet and pub worker - that I couldn't care less about...
It's not until chapter 9 and 10 that the book gives me exactly what I expected from the book, focusing on the creation of the Harris's List and then the women featured in that list, showing examples and excerpts of multiple surviving editions of the Lists. I loved learning that and the focus on them or Charlotte Hayes were excellent parts of the read, the book excelled in what I expected it to be (it was the other parts that drag it on)...
Honestly, I would only recommend this book, if you know going in, that there's a big part of it not focusing on the sex work itself, but on the men enjoying it... if you know and don't mind that, it will be an excellent read!!! Also I recommend to read this in parallel with Puta feminista: Historias de una trabajadora sexual, which makes it a very interesting parallel with modern description/story of sex work!!
February 28, 2022
4.5 stars rounded down.
Absolutely fascinating content. Gives me all kinds of plot bunnies and makes me want to learn more and more about this world.
I thought the tone the author adopted worked well. She acknowledged that all the information we have on these people/women comes filtered through 18th century. So rather than trying to falsify objectivity, it acknowledges that bias and keeps the haughty, almost disdainful tone. Very clear to me that this was tongue in cheek, and it added an extra layer of enjoyment to the reading.
My main complaint — there was a pivot in the last chapter where it talked about more generally about the girls/women on the list. How they lived, where they ended up, etc. I wish that was a bit more baked in, rather than tacked on at the end.
Expected CWs for a book about prostitution — rape, alcoholism, infanticide/abortion, etc
Absolutely fascinating content. Gives me all kinds of plot bunnies and makes me want to learn more and more about this world.
I thought the tone the author adopted worked well. She acknowledged that all the information we have on these people/women comes filtered through 18th century. So rather than trying to falsify objectivity, it acknowledges that bias and keeps the haughty, almost disdainful tone. Very clear to me that this was tongue in cheek, and it added an extra layer of enjoyment to the reading.
My main complaint — there was a pivot in the last chapter where it talked about more generally about the girls/women on the list. How they lived, where they ended up, etc. I wish that was a bit more baked in, rather than tacked on at the end.
Expected CWs for a book about prostitution — rape, alcoholism, infanticide/abortion, etc
April 27, 2023
*3,5
Just like her other book “The Five” this is incredibly engaging and well researched. However, there was some bad marketing involved here. It sounds as if this book is about the prostitutes of Covent Garden, but 4 of it’s 5 “main” characters are men. I found out later that the author tried to “recreate” the male voice of the time, and although she is successful, nowhere in the actual book it is explained that this is what she’s doing. So I was disappointed; I wanted to know more about these women, and although there are definitely glimpses, we learn far more about the men who sold, bought and very often victimised them. If the book had been called “Covent Garden: dudes be douches” I would have rated it higher, because that reflects exactly what this is about.
Just like her other book “The Five” this is incredibly engaging and well researched. However, there was some bad marketing involved here. It sounds as if this book is about the prostitutes of Covent Garden, but 4 of it’s 5 “main” characters are men. I found out later that the author tried to “recreate” the male voice of the time, and although she is successful, nowhere in the actual book it is explained that this is what she’s doing. So I was disappointed; I wanted to know more about these women, and although there are definitely glimpses, we learn far more about the men who sold, bought and very often victimised them. If the book had been called “Covent Garden: dudes be douches” I would have rated it higher, because that reflects exactly what this is about.
September 9, 2021
(4/10)
Unfortunately this didn't work for me. Despite some issues with The Five I still found it super engaging and a page-turner; however, The Covent Garden Ladies was the complete opposite. The writing style felt extremely dry and made my reading experience a very boring one. I appreciated the insight into the Covent Garden Ladies though. Hadn't this book been a gift, I would've probably dnfed it.
Unfortunately this didn't work for me. Despite some issues with The Five I still found it super engaging and a page-turner; however, The Covent Garden Ladies was the complete opposite. The writing style felt extremely dry and made my reading experience a very boring one. I appreciated the insight into the Covent Garden Ladies though. Hadn't this book been a gift, I would've probably dnfed it.
June 6, 2022
A book on history? That you enjoyed? Are you feeling okay. Yes, I am, thank you. The reason for this shock is that there’s only one type of history book which I enjoy, and that is history books about sex. Genuinely.
As you could guess from the title, this book is about the Covent Garden Ladies. These ladies are the known sex workers of the area which Harris and Derrick detailed in a pocket book in 1759. This book spread the women to avoid, the women to seek, those who specialised in certain things.
Historian Hallie Rubenhold, who also wrote The Five, provides a crisp overview of this. This is absolutely not some dry textbook Source A shit that you’d have to analyse in your history exam. This is a fun and full of life story that almost feels like a fiction to read.
I enjoyed this so much. Like, a surprising amount. It was a charity shop spot that I could’ve easily walked past but obviously I am very glad I didn’t.
This is an engaging and genuinely interesting insight into history and an essential read for feminist legends. It’s sex positive in its account, but hoe sex positivity should be- not screaming YES SEX and making a huge thing over it. Instead, it simply normalises this profession. Some came into this industry through horrible circumstances, some passionately choose this industry. Some have good experiences, some have bad experiences. They seem neither dramatised or romanised, and just told from historical records.
As you could guess from the title, this book is about the Covent Garden Ladies. These ladies are the known sex workers of the area which Harris and Derrick detailed in a pocket book in 1759. This book spread the women to avoid, the women to seek, those who specialised in certain things.
Historian Hallie Rubenhold, who also wrote The Five, provides a crisp overview of this. This is absolutely not some dry textbook Source A shit that you’d have to analyse in your history exam. This is a fun and full of life story that almost feels like a fiction to read.
I enjoyed this so much. Like, a surprising amount. It was a charity shop spot that I could’ve easily walked past but obviously I am very glad I didn’t.
This is an engaging and genuinely interesting insight into history and an essential read for feminist legends. It’s sex positive in its account, but hoe sex positivity should be- not screaming YES SEX and making a huge thing over it. Instead, it simply normalises this profession. Some came into this industry through horrible circumstances, some passionately choose this industry. Some have good experiences, some have bad experiences. They seem neither dramatised or romanised, and just told from historical records.
August 11, 2022
"As an older man, 'O'Kelly took many occasions to express a disapprobation of his younger days,' a luxury that only those who have met with success irrespective of their youthful follies can relish."
Hallie Rubenhold's historical non-fiction is all about the interwoven lives of those who penned, edited, and featured in Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies , a guidebook to middle-class gentlemen and above to the various sex worker's of Covent Garden and beyond.
As Rubenhold promises on the second page of the book, this is not related to do with the "gilded, safe and privileged Georgian era of Jane Austen", though the book does trace the history of some prostitutes who rose to the heights of the upper-class.
Though being fairly familiar with the events and key figures of the 18th Century, I found that much of the historical narrative is still tilted towards the exploits of men. Though perhaps still a taboo subject, even in regards to history, I felt it was important to learn more about this line of work that many women, of all , classes found themselves in - whether to survive, protection, community, for the prospects of better that it could offer, or indeed, were unwilling victims who had no choice.
The book was perhaps more about John Harrison (aka Jack Harris "Pimp General of all England") and Samuel Derrick than the women included on the list, but since all their lives were so closely interwoven, it is still fairly balanced. Almost halfway through the book, one of the early editions of Harris's Lists is included which is fascinating in of itself. Indeed, the evolution of the book (which was in print for 38 years!) is also an interesting reflection of societal and literary tastes, becoming much more lyrical and euphemistic by the end of its run near the turn of the millennia.
The history of Charlotte Hayes was one I found incredibly fascinating. Growing up in her mother's brothel and educated in how to be the best courtesan possible, before establishing an empire in the sex trade and subsequent attempt at retiring from it all was just an incredible piece of history. She, like many of the other figures of the book, were ruthless and responsible for unforgivable things, but you recognise that they are just trying to survive from one day to the next in the absolute social and economic precarity that was Georgian life.
In the edition I have, I did notice a couple of editorial mistakes and sometimes the chapter's chronology jumped around, but overall, it was a thoroughly fascinating book that captures a lot of the moral and societal hypocrisies of the era.
Hallie Rubenhold's historical non-fiction is all about the interwoven lives of those who penned, edited, and featured in Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies , a guidebook to middle-class gentlemen and above to the various sex worker's of Covent Garden and beyond.
As Rubenhold promises on the second page of the book, this is not related to do with the "gilded, safe and privileged Georgian era of Jane Austen", though the book does trace the history of some prostitutes who rose to the heights of the upper-class.
Though being fairly familiar with the events and key figures of the 18th Century, I found that much of the historical narrative is still tilted towards the exploits of men. Though perhaps still a taboo subject, even in regards to history, I felt it was important to learn more about this line of work that many women, of all , classes found themselves in - whether to survive, protection, community, for the prospects of better that it could offer, or indeed, were unwilling victims who had no choice.
The book was perhaps more about John Harrison (aka Jack Harris "Pimp General of all England") and Samuel Derrick than the women included on the list, but since all their lives were so closely interwoven, it is still fairly balanced. Almost halfway through the book, one of the early editions of Harris's Lists is included which is fascinating in of itself. Indeed, the evolution of the book (which was in print for 38 years!) is also an interesting reflection of societal and literary tastes, becoming much more lyrical and euphemistic by the end of its run near the turn of the millennia.
The history of Charlotte Hayes was one I found incredibly fascinating. Growing up in her mother's brothel and educated in how to be the best courtesan possible, before establishing an empire in the sex trade and subsequent attempt at retiring from it all was just an incredible piece of history. She, like many of the other figures of the book, were ruthless and responsible for unforgivable things, but you recognise that they are just trying to survive from one day to the next in the absolute social and economic precarity that was Georgian life.
In the edition I have, I did notice a couple of editorial mistakes and sometimes the chapter's chronology jumped around, but overall, it was a thoroughly fascinating book that captures a lot of the moral and societal hypocrisies of the era.
November 9, 2022
A little disappointed with this book because it gave me the impression that at times the value of the life stories of women, who were the true protagonists, was lost.
In any case, some parts of the exhibition of this part of the history were interesting to know.
In any case, some parts of the exhibition of this part of the history were interesting to know.
January 11, 2023
I wish there’d been more about the ladies of the list
October 21, 2021
A really fascinating book and 100% worth a read. However, if you are looking at it because you read “The Five” - they are totally different! This is a drier and doesn’t have the grip that “The Five” has.
May 5, 2025
Purple of prose and weirdly detached from the daily grim reality of prostitution until the very end.
April 23, 2023
3.5 stars
January 20, 2022
Another reminder why nostalgia is a crock: for most people in the past, life was really shitty. Rubenhold uses a book, Harris' List of Covent Garden Ladies, as a peg on which to hang her evocation of London's seedy underbelly in the latter half of the eighteenth century. The two men most responsible for the book, which was basically a guidebook to the available prostitutes in and around the Covent Garden area, were John Harrison (aka Jack Harris), Pimp General of London, and Samuel Derrick, a failed Irish poet and wastrel. As a successful pimp, Harris kept an ever-evolving list of available women and exercised control over them by a variety of nasty means (spreading word to potential clients that they were diseased, for example, was a good way to ruin them). Derrick was quite sure fame and success (not to mention wealth) were just around the corner for him as a poet and man of letters, but in the meantime, short on cash and long on creditors, he hit upon the idea of publishing Harris's list, embellished with witty details and bits of gossip. The book was an instant hit and was updated and republished at regular intervals for almost forty years (although Harrison and Derrick had less and less to do with it later on, and the decreasing quality and wit of the information provided fell accordingly). This glimpse of London's central pleasure district in the period--with theatres, taverns, and brothels packed in around the produce market and desperate women to fit every budget in plentiful supply--provides, as I suggested before, a healthy dose of anti-nostalgia. The lives of these disposable women, off whom Harris and Derrick profited, were generally pretty miserable. Harris and Derrick both ended pretty well, with Harris as a wealthy tavern owner living off the profits made on the backs of women and Derrick as Master of Ceremonies at Bath. The woman Rubenhold chooses as her chief representative of the female side of the trade, Charlotte Hayes, ended her days rather differently. She had been born into a brothel, initiated into the trade as a young girl (virgins brought in very high fees, and her virginity would have been recycled by her mother several times), was successful for some years as a beautiful, sought-after provider of sex to wealthy men, then became a brothel-keeper. She was ruthless in controlling the women who worked for her and made an awful lot of money, much of it spent by Dennis O'Kelly, the man she spent much of her later life with. Hayes (or Mrs Kelly, as she later called herself--names were very changeable things among such women) did as well as any woman in her circumstances could, but no amount of money or property could ever make respectable people forget where she came from. Men could roll in the gutter and come out smelling sweet (men will be men, you know), but a woman once spoiled, no matter the circumstances, could never be anything but a whore.
The real heroines of the book, though, are the prostitutes themselves, doing the best they could with the terrible cards they'd been dealt.
This is part of the List's description of Miss Young, of 6 Cumberland Court: "We mentioned her in the last list as tolerably handsome, but of a disposition mercenary, almost beyond example, her beauty is now vanished, but her avarice remains, and what is worse, she has very lately had the folly and wickedness to leave a certain hospital, before the cure of a certain distemper which she had was completed, and has thrown her contaminated carcase on the town again, for which we hold her inexcusable, and which was our only reason for repeating her name, that her company might be avoided, and that she might be held in the infamous light she so justly deserves for her wilful villainy" (1779).
And this is Hetty D-rkin, of Meard's Court: "A thin little girl with blue eyes, aquiline nose, and a very little mouth. She is the daughter of a reputable tradesman in Wapping, and was debauched by her father's porter. She has frequent fits of repentance, and has more than once been wavering at the threshold of the Magdalen House. However, a glass of punch or wine is sure to bring her back again. She is an agreeable companion, but having no passions, considers every man merely as a cull, and seldom scruples to pick his pocket, if she can do it conveniently" (1761).
Finally, here's Miss ------, of No. 44, Newman Street: "This petite belle has not yet attained her sixteenth year; and, to make amends for her deficiency of height, she is elegantly formed, nor does she lack beauty. Her sparkling eyes would warm an anchorite. Her hair is beautifully fair: and her liveliness in conversation renders her a most agreeable companion. Two guineas will bring you better acquainted with this charmer; nor will you have cause for disagreeable reflections from her acquaintance" (1793).
The real heroines of the book, though, are the prostitutes themselves, doing the best they could with the terrible cards they'd been dealt.
This is part of the List's description of Miss Young, of 6 Cumberland Court: "We mentioned her in the last list as tolerably handsome, but of a disposition mercenary, almost beyond example, her beauty is now vanished, but her avarice remains, and what is worse, she has very lately had the folly and wickedness to leave a certain hospital, before the cure of a certain distemper which she had was completed, and has thrown her contaminated carcase on the town again, for which we hold her inexcusable, and which was our only reason for repeating her name, that her company might be avoided, and that she might be held in the infamous light she so justly deserves for her wilful villainy" (1779).
And this is Hetty D-rkin, of Meard's Court: "A thin little girl with blue eyes, aquiline nose, and a very little mouth. She is the daughter of a reputable tradesman in Wapping, and was debauched by her father's porter. She has frequent fits of repentance, and has more than once been wavering at the threshold of the Magdalen House. However, a glass of punch or wine is sure to bring her back again. She is an agreeable companion, but having no passions, considers every man merely as a cull, and seldom scruples to pick his pocket, if she can do it conveniently" (1761).
Finally, here's Miss ------, of No. 44, Newman Street: "This petite belle has not yet attained her sixteenth year; and, to make amends for her deficiency of height, she is elegantly formed, nor does she lack beauty. Her sparkling eyes would warm an anchorite. Her hair is beautifully fair: and her liveliness in conversation renders her a most agreeable companion. Two guineas will bring you better acquainted with this charmer; nor will you have cause for disagreeable reflections from her acquaintance" (1793).
July 10, 2021
Aw man, this was a bit of a tough one I won't lie. Struggled a lot to get into it in the beginning and as I read on, while my engagement increased, some flaws in Rubenhold's writing became increasingly obvious.
Basing the book around Harris's List is a great idea, it's a fascinating and unique source material and I appreciated the inclusion of sections directly from the publications of the time. However, the way it was handled and Rubenhold's somewhat veiled low opinion of the women included in this list leaves a lot to be desired.
It would have been great to have some more focus on the women included in the list who weren't Charlotte Hayes, and a little less focus on Derrick and Harris. Charlotte is by no means perfect as a historical figure and a little more awareness of that would have been good. Having been written in 2005, this book shows its age and despite a new forward by the author, Rubenhold's tone is not diminished.
Overall, interesting topic, poor execution. Rather disappointed after loving The Five so much.
Basing the book around Harris's List is a great idea, it's a fascinating and unique source material and I appreciated the inclusion of sections directly from the publications of the time. However, the way it was handled and Rubenhold's somewhat veiled low opinion of the women included in this list leaves a lot to be desired.
It would have been great to have some more focus on the women included in the list who weren't Charlotte Hayes, and a little less focus on Derrick and Harris. Charlotte is by no means perfect as a historical figure and a little more awareness of that would have been good. Having been written in 2005, this book shows its age and despite a new forward by the author, Rubenhold's tone is not diminished.
Overall, interesting topic, poor execution. Rather disappointed after loving The Five so much.
October 21, 2020
Not for me - mostly because I had way too high expectations after reading “The Five”.
November 5, 2021
If you think mysogyny is a problem these days (yes it is); the lives of working class women in the 1700s will make your toes curl. Well-researched and thoughtfully written.
November 5, 2023
For a book on sex work, it was so dull…and surprisingly about the men???
Also really liked using the word meretricious.
Also really liked using the word meretricious.
July 11, 2020
The story of Harris's List, a compendium of 18th C sex workers, revolving around key figures; Jack Harris, the Pimp General of England, Samuel Derrick, an Irish author, and Charlotte Hayes, a sex worker and later brothel keeper. And by revolving around them, I mean this is kind of like three biographies merged together, whose subjects knew one another and whose lives loosely intersected at different points.
After reading Rubenhold's The Five, the story of the five canonical victims of Jack the Ripper. The key thesis of The Five was to outline that at least three of the victims weren't sex workers, as they were widely derided at the time and long remembered to the present, but also complicated victims of poverty and circumstance. Due to scant written record, Rubenhold often fictionalised how things might have gone and that habit was established early in The Covent Garden Ladies.
So interesting that Rubenhold frequents the topic, despite having somewhat ambivalent regard for the sex workers. There's a section where she feels sorry for the johns having the pimps & bawds wring them for every shilling, but on the other hand mid-teens seems the most common age for new entrants to the industry, with many entering under dubious circumstances. Charlotte herself had her virginity auctioned off by her mother before later becoming a procurer of girls. Jack Harris, on the other hand, likely compromised or outright forced dozens of girls to enter the industry. Derrick was likely merely a consumer, however while Rubenhold expresses sympathy over his impoverished circumstances, it is largely by choice so /shrug/ I couldn't care as much.
And while she posits this as the 'extraordinary' story of the List, due to limited records (as publishing it existed in the grey area of the law) how the List actually came together is vaguely presented. Rubenhold also supports the idea that the List evolved to become firmly erotica rather than compendium of sex workers. Though I was introduced the concept of 'posture girls' who were the strippers of the day I suppose? And while Rubenhold only touches lightly on it, it was interesting to read about the changing social mores over the 18th C to the more recognisable 'Victorian era.'
I listened to the audiobook and there's about 80 minutes of entries from the List over the decades it was published. 18th C erotica isn't really my thing, so I skipped over that.
After reading Rubenhold's The Five, the story of the five canonical victims of Jack the Ripper. The key thesis of The Five was to outline that at least three of the victims weren't sex workers, as they were widely derided at the time and long remembered to the present, but also complicated victims of poverty and circumstance. Due to scant written record, Rubenhold often fictionalised how things might have gone and that habit was established early in The Covent Garden Ladies.
So interesting that Rubenhold frequents the topic, despite having somewhat ambivalent regard for the sex workers. There's a section where she feels sorry for the johns having the pimps & bawds wring them for every shilling, but on the other hand mid-teens seems the most common age for new entrants to the industry, with many entering under dubious circumstances. Charlotte herself had her virginity auctioned off by her mother before later becoming a procurer of girls. Jack Harris, on the other hand, likely compromised or outright forced dozens of girls to enter the industry. Derrick was likely merely a consumer, however while Rubenhold expresses sympathy over his impoverished circumstances, it is largely by choice so /shrug/ I couldn't care as much.
And while she posits this as the 'extraordinary' story of the List, due to limited records (as publishing it existed in the grey area of the law) how the List actually came together is vaguely presented. Rubenhold also supports the idea that the List evolved to become firmly erotica rather than compendium of sex workers. Though I was introduced the concept of 'posture girls' who were the strippers of the day I suppose? And while Rubenhold only touches lightly on it, it was interesting to read about the changing social mores over the 18th C to the more recognisable 'Victorian era.'
I listened to the audiobook and there's about 80 minutes of entries from the List over the decades it was published. 18th C erotica isn't really my thing, so I skipped over that.
February 28, 2021
Hallie Rubenhold’s The Five was one of my favourite non-fiction reads of 2020 for many reasons, one of them being the fact that Rubenhold told the stories of five women that history had forgotten. For well over a century, people have obsessed over and, hell, even romanticised Jack the Ripper. Everyone wants to know who Jack the Ripper was, but no one seems interested in who his victims were. Hallie Rubenhold wrote The Five as a means of changing this. By writing The Five, she gave a voice to the Canonical Five – Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly – who, up until the book’s publication, had largely been overlooked by historians, writers and true crime enthusiasts.
And this is what I liked about The Covent Garden Ladies. Published fourteen years before The Five, The Covent Garden Ladies gives a voice to those who have slipped between the cracks in history. Rubenhold not only discusses the lives and careers of pimp Jack Harris, down and out poet Samuel Derrick and madam Charlotte Hayes, she also delves into the lives of the women who worked out of the pubs and brothels they ran or frequented. She details the daily struggles of an 18th century sex worker with brutal honesty, an honesty that will have readers’ hearts breaking for these long-dead women. It wasn’t uncommon for women to be forcibly ‘recruited’ into the sex trade, and, once working for a pimp or madam, they simultaneously became objects of lust and disdain. Men would point disapprovingly with one hand while dishing out guineas to pay for their services with the other.
There’s a chapter in The Covent Garden Ladies in which passages from various editions of Harris’s List are printed verbatim. It’s a grim read. Not only is each sex worker’s ‘write up’ (I can’t think of a better way to describe them) laced with stomach-churning misogyny, they’re very often filled with complete and utter nonsense that will make any reader grateful to have been born in the 20th (or even 21st – I’m getting so old) century. There was one particular ‘write up’ that, if I interpreted it correctly, blames a woman supposedly being “very wide and relaxed in a particular place” on her excessive consumption of tea (page 182, 2020 edition). If that was in any way true, my internal organs would have spilled out of me about ten years ago. Sure, the people of centuries past built the foundation upon which today’s society was built…but God, some of them were absolute idiots.
If you were a fan of Hallie Rubenhold’s The Five and are a fan of books that give history’s marginalised women a voice, The Covent Garden Ladies is a book that you should definitely read.
And this is what I liked about The Covent Garden Ladies. Published fourteen years before The Five, The Covent Garden Ladies gives a voice to those who have slipped between the cracks in history. Rubenhold not only discusses the lives and careers of pimp Jack Harris, down and out poet Samuel Derrick and madam Charlotte Hayes, she also delves into the lives of the women who worked out of the pubs and brothels they ran or frequented. She details the daily struggles of an 18th century sex worker with brutal honesty, an honesty that will have readers’ hearts breaking for these long-dead women. It wasn’t uncommon for women to be forcibly ‘recruited’ into the sex trade, and, once working for a pimp or madam, they simultaneously became objects of lust and disdain. Men would point disapprovingly with one hand while dishing out guineas to pay for their services with the other.
There’s a chapter in The Covent Garden Ladies in which passages from various editions of Harris’s List are printed verbatim. It’s a grim read. Not only is each sex worker’s ‘write up’ (I can’t think of a better way to describe them) laced with stomach-churning misogyny, they’re very often filled with complete and utter nonsense that will make any reader grateful to have been born in the 20th (or even 21st – I’m getting so old) century. There was one particular ‘write up’ that, if I interpreted it correctly, blames a woman supposedly being “very wide and relaxed in a particular place” on her excessive consumption of tea (page 182, 2020 edition). If that was in any way true, my internal organs would have spilled out of me about ten years ago. Sure, the people of centuries past built the foundation upon which today’s society was built…but God, some of them were absolute idiots.
If you were a fan of Hallie Rubenhold’s The Five and are a fan of books that give history’s marginalised women a voice, The Covent Garden Ladies is a book that you should definitely read.
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