Regency Dinner Parties and Mrs. Bennet’s “two full courses”

WTF does Mrs. Bennet mean by “courses”? Your intrepid reporter went in search of answers and got obsessed with Regency dinner parties along the way. 🔍

“Two full courses”

“…she had the consolation of thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and soon dining at Longbourn; and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take care to have two full courses.”

“Pride and Prejudice” – Jane Austen • Chapter 21

The “two full courses” confused me. I was pretty sure they couldn’t mean courses the way we do but I wasn’t sure, so one morning I set out to try to understand it. No, they don’t mean it the way we do because Regency dinners were insane.

I ended up on the Internet Archive looking through “Town and Country Housekeeper’s Guide” from 1808 and was completely absorbed by the recipes and the choreographed show of big dinners, but I also figured out what they meant by “courses.”

A real regency dinner party was a production. The show was the thing. And that’s why Mrs. Bennet says “just a family dinner” over and over when she’s trying to get Bingley into her home to eat with them. (And by the way: once Bingley sits down next to smiling Jane at Mrs. Bennet’s table for a “family dinner” he never leaves.)

The books filled with these crazy recipes also talk about what is replaced by what in the removes. And the removes were where the most production value was concentrated. The tablecloth was taken off and the whole, beautiful (and likely now messy) art design of dishes was very precisely switched out, creating a new and equally artistic layout.

I suppose this must’ve taken practice by servants, right?

Dinners during the Regency were prolonged affairs lasting hours, then followed by cards, gambling or music. Dinner was served a la francaise in most grand houses, which meant that the majority of dishes were arranged in the middle of the table and people were supposed to help themselves from the nearest dish and then offer it to their neighbors. If someone wanted a dish at the other end of the table they had to ask a footman or fellow guest to pass it to them. A formal dinner consisted of two courses or removes followed by a dessert. Unlike today’s dinner of soup or salad, main course, then dessert, a complete variety of dishes was served at each remove. The first remove usually had a choice of entrees, side dishes and several roast joints. These would then be cleared but guests would retain their plates for the second remove, consisting usually of fish, pies, plum pudding, vegetables, small birds, chicken and a variety of puddings. These would all be served and eaten together, the apple pie by the roast trout, pheasant next to blancmange. Often roasts would include the body parts of the animal as a decorative finish. A roast hare might be served with its ears sticking straight up and with fur still on the paws, head, and tail, or a peacock with its tail fanned out and complete head attached. Dessert was usually fruit, cheese, and ice creams. Interestingly, the tablecloth was always removed before dessert. The best dishes – the roasts and fancy puddings, were always placed near the host or important guest and those further down the table had to make do with what was left (probably the vegetables.)

Grand Dining in the Regency Period – Jane Austen Society of North America – Puget Sound
by Ruth Haring
“Emma” – Jane Austen; Chapter 26 • (Vol. II, Chapter 8)

So while Mrs. Bennet’s family dinner and dining at Rosings were two very different things, in both it meant dividing up the main courses—or “removes”— into two different groups. And it meant a whole ton of food.

I love that the Mrs. Bennet POV story of Jane and Bingley can be told entirely through her quest to get him to dinner, because she knows if she can get him to that fun table with her family he will be hers. And she’s right! She knows exactly how to show Jane “to advantage” and she knows Bingley has it in him to loosen up and really enjoy a good, relaxed, comfortable meal. Mrs. Bennet is a disaster in formal settings—and silly always—but everyone loves to eat dinner at their house and you just know Bingley would be in heaven. That’s way more him than all the stiff, uncomfortable formality of Caroline’s housekeeping.

Jane and Bingley’s romance told through quotes of Mrs. Bennet trying to get him to a family dinner

  • “What an excellent father you have, girls,” said she, when the door was shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either, for that matter. . . . The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.
  • An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day and consequently unable to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might always be flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be.
  • Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; and addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy he would make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any time, without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure; and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the next day for a short time.
  • …she had the consolation of thinking that Mr. Bingley would be soon down again, and soon dining at Longbourn; and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, that, though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take care to have two full courses.
  • [“If he wants our society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back again.”] . . . “Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait on him. But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I am determined.
  • “You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added; “for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.” . . . Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs…
  • A few days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. . . . Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, with many expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere. “Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.” He should be particularly happy at any time, etc., etc.; and if she would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on them. “Can you come to-morrow?” Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her invitation was accepted with alacrity.
  • When they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take the place which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was decided. He placed himself by her. . . . His behaviour to her sister was such during dinnertime as showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his own, would be speedily secured.
  • “Well, girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “what say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. . . . And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last!’ She did, indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever lived—and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.” Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits: she had seen enough of Bingley’s behaviour to Jane to be convinced that she would get him at last…
  • Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn; coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after supper; unless when some barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough detested, had given him an invitation to dinner, which he thought himself obliged to accept. 😏

The courses


Each of the two courses included a variety of dishes. The first course usually featured a couple of soups, several roast joints, the seemingly-obligatory calf’s head, tongue was popular, mutton and haricot beans, veal and truffles, and somehow asparagus must be fitted in there somewhere. Asparagus is apparently a requirement. The host carving some meat up himself is kind of a whole thing, because they were sort of expected to entertain as they did it. (So Mr. Collins sitting at the end of Lady Catherine’s table and carving the meat almost elevated him into the position of “host,” but I don’t think he knows how to tell stories and Lady Catherine never shuts up, so Elizabeth and Charlotte were probably spared that part.)

The second course is fish and fowl, pies and eggs. Tarts and soufflés. Jellies. More asparagus. Larks. Pigeons in jelly. Fricaseed rabbits. Mushrooms in white sauce. Artichoke bottoms fried in batter. Orange soufflé. Omlettes. Oysters en Beshamell. Cheeses, nuts, creams and macaroni.

After the first two courses was dessert, and at dinner parties there was a whole dance that occurred between course two and dessert.

  • First, every single thing on the table was removed and a silver dish with rose water was passed around the table for guests to dip their napkins in and “refresh” their mouths and fingertips.
  • Then the tablecloth was taken away and the desserts were brought out.
  • There’s a whole other thing going on with the wines, too. Little decanters of water with inverted tumblers sit at every other chair… it’s wild.

The show was the thing. It was this huge, choreographed scene.

But Mrs. Bennet’s “two full courses” would mean a whole lot of food divided broadly into a first course of soups and the meats that once walked around interspersed with side dishes, followed by a second course made up more of fish and foul and pies interspersed with side dishes and a lot of cream. And then dessert.

Dessert doesn’t count as a “course.” It’s a given.


Bingley’s “White Soup”

I accidentally ran across the recipe for white soup in my Internet Archive Regency dive.


“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing, and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards.”

Pride and Prejudice; Jane Austen • Chapter 11

I pictured white soup as some simple, elegant cream broth, but I would have been abused for my stupidity if Mrs. Gardiner was around.

White Soup

Take a knuckle of veal, a large foul, a shank of ham; put them into a saucepan with six quarts of water; add half a pound of rice, two anchovies, some peppercorns, a bundle of sweet herbs, two onions, and a head of celery. Stew them all together till the soup is as strong as you would have it, and strain it through a hair sieve into an earthen pan. Let it stand all night and the next day strain it carefully and pour it through a stew-pan. Put in half a pound of sweet almonds beat fine, boil it for about a quarter of an hour, and strain it through a fine sieve. Add a liaison*.”

  • a knuckle of veal
  • a large foul
  • a shank of ham
  • half a pound of rice
  • two anchovies
  • some peppercorns
  • a bundle of sweet herbs
  • two onions
  • a head of celery
  • sweet almonds beat fine
  • six egg yolks
  • cream
  • beshmelle
  • sugar
  • salt
  • (Have lots of sieves and lots of pans ready)

*(Liaison: For two quarts of soup, take the yolks of six eggs; beat them up by degrees in a pint of boiled cream; strain through a hair sieve and add a spoonful of beshmelle. Take the pan off the fire when you stir in the eggs, set it on the fire again and keep stirring until it comes to a boil, otherwise the eggs will curdle. Add a lump of sugar, and salt for seasoning.)

Poor Nicholls.