It makes no difference these days if the Charleston gentleman is “to the manor born” or not. We moderns look to character rather than pedigree, and it’s been this way since automobiles replaced horse-drawn buggies. What matters is that today’s gentleman has been brought up with the knowledge of how to be at ease in any type of company.
Charleston’s first gentlemen 300 years ago were the products of London’s clubs and drawing rooms. They associated with families recognized by Debrett’s, the genealogist for British royals and aristocrats.
Debrett’s has forever published an etiquette guide for young gentlemen.
These cosmopolitan arbiters of what is proper instruct the masters who tutor the royals. Now even some Charlestonians consult Debrett’s Guide For The Modern Gentleman (2009) for tips on conventional manners.
Amidst a backdrop of casual Lowcountry living, it’s evident that tradition has been broken down by expediency.
Effortlessness is the norm where decorum once ruled supreme. However, the London and Charleston gentlemen share one common distinction - each represents the sine qua non in what may be done, or what may not be done within his realm.
For centuries those who wish to associate with the peers have considered Debrett’s Guide the gold standard of social protocol.
Whether ordering a bespoke suit, writing a thank-you note, or worshipping in a cathedral, the do’s and don’t’s of decorum are related in a readable, often humorous manner in Debrett’s Guide . For example, Debrett’s quotes Mark Twain: “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” In traditional cultures such as London - or Charleston, a gentleman’s suit coat should have a single vent in the back, not a double one because tradition suggests that a gentleman’s coat drapes properly upon a horse. Therefore, the coat should be single vented. Supposedly, one might find himself hacking around Hampton Park with Lady Fair.
A bespoke suit has functioning button sleeves - dating back to when Royal navy surgeons performed amputations without removing their suit coat. The surgeon merely asked the assistant to turn up his unbuttoned cuffs as he chortled, “Frightful rotten spot of luck, ol’ chap.”
Today’s London gentleman knows that the attendant of the lavatory at The Savoy will expect to unbutton the gentleman’s coat cuffs prior to drawing the water in the marble hand basin. This might not be the case at The Mills House today, but a hundred and thirty years ago it was the same in a fine hotel here as it was was in London.
The folks at Debrett say that a gentleman never wears a belt with a suit - why break the lines of a fine suit? When wearing a belt with khakis or slacks one should keep the buckle discreet - you’re not a cowboy.
For reasons we don’t need to dignify, gentlemen wear something other than boxers underneath suit trousers. Apparently even prestigious Londoners need tips on how to “speak like a bookie,” “how to place a bet,” and the “seven cardinal rules on buying a horse.” Not knowing a thing about horses is a sure way to be overlooked as a gentleman. Even after a hundred years of the automobile, our four-legged friends still influence fine society.
Not every gentleman ventures abroad for business dealings, but if he should find himself in the Orient, then he should have business cards printed in the language of his hosts and English on the reverse side. Never present a business card in the Orient or the Middle East by extending the left hand. Offer the card with both hands. Upon receiving their card, study it with interest before you place it carefully somewhere near your heart, not your rear.
Debrett’s intends that its adherents avoid the faux pas of the hoi poloi. For instance, it’s unacceptable for the sole of one’s shoe to face one’s guest. In Saudi Arabia this might get the perpetrator beheaded. In Korea the use of red ink for someone’s name or business could imply that you wish them dead or closed down.
There’s a chapter covering the etiquette of automobile usage.
Debrett’s doesn’t assume that its readers have been through the Bentley Driver’s School, but a tip or two from that famous marquee finds its way into the guide. Typically British, Debrett’s has sections on “how to drive in the desert, how to drive around Nuburgring, and tips on handling chauffeurs.”
The rules of shotgunning on country estates is interesting reading even if one seldom gets invited to M’Lord’s manor house. “Bangers” is the slang that Brits use for shotgun shells. A “wisp” is a group of snipe.
Absolutely nothing is shot on the ground, and it is unsporting to shoot at anything close range. A gentleman never boasts of the quarry he has killed. He leaves it to others to tell of his shooting prowess. “All out” by the beaters is a call that even the owner heeds, for it implies the end of a drive. A gentleman is well-read and is able to converse with his hosts on a variety of subjects. There’s not a single American poet listed in the Debrett guide of essential modern poetry. T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land and W.H. Auden’s Another Time rank at the top of the English gentleman’s list. American writers Thoreau and Salinger make the cut, however, for a gentleman’s light prose.
Television has spoiled us on romance, for screen writers have all but destroyed the innocence of casual conversation. Yet Debrett’s bravely goes into the arena of dangerous liaisons in the workplace and just what water-cooler conversation is acceptable, and what is not. “Never make a public display of affection in the office,” and “office life will never be the same again once you take the plunge.”
In an attempt to lose the stiff-upper-lip snobbery of the cold British way, Debrett’s 2009 edition of the Gentleman’s Guide pops off David Letterman-style Top Ten Lists — such as “The Top Ten Things To Do Before You Die.” Number One is “To Fly A Mig Over Moscow.” But, who needs Debrett’s where we live! There are Charleston gentlemen of the old school about still who are the real deal — without put-on airs learned in London.

Dr. Thomas B. Horton is a history teacher at Porter-Gaud School. He lives in the Old Village of Mount Pleasant. Visit his Web site www.historyslostmoments.com.