Spa Day!

I’ll say it right up front—I’m not a spa person, at least not today’s version of a typical spa. I don’t do facials; massages make me uncomfortable. But I would have loved visiting a Regency spa.

A number of cities during the early part of the nineteenth century in England had risen to the position of being considered a spa, either because of the opportunity to bathe in the sea or the opportunity to partake of mineral waters, or both. While the prominence of the city of Bath in Somerset waned as the century wore on, it was still one of the most popular. Bath had the benefit of having actual hot water baths, built in Roman times. It also boasted the Pump Room where you could drink the water and visit with friends. With assembly rooms just up the hill and parks for promenading on a sunny day, Bath would seem to have everything one could want in a spa.

Though Jane Austen is often associated with Bath, a family favorite was Lyme Regis in Dorset. The town along the seashore also had a fine set of assembly rooms and saltwater bathing. It also featured shops, tearooms, and bookstores. You can see why Jane liked it. 😊

Scarborough in Yorkshire had the best of both worlds, with saltwater bathing and mineral waters to drink. It also had a nearby castle being used as a barracks for soldiers. That red uniform can go to a girl’s head!

Other towns also made a play for the title of spa. Before he went mad, King George frequently took his family saltwater bathing at Weymouth in Dorset, and his son, Prince George, was inordinately fond of Brighton in Essex. 

Come back next Friday when I will tell you about one more special spa that I hope you’ll want to visit again and again, for I’m starting a new series set there!

Escaping Unflappable Winter

It’s finally cold here. Temperatures have dipped below freezing, and we had our first snow. My youngest son, who is studying at the University of Idaho, chuckles as we shiver. The temperature there is below zero, with snow drifts up to his waist. It’s enough to make you dream of balmy breezes and sunny skies.

It was no different in nineteenth century England. During the early part of the century, Europe was in the Little Ice Age, and things could be chilly and damp. Those that could headed someplace that at least seemed a bit warmer: Bath.

Don’t get me wrong. Bath had its share of chilly days and snow, but the coziness of the town—with its river walks, assembly rooms, and spa, made it seem like just the place to be. You met old friends, became acquainted with new ones, drank the waters, and took in the entertainments.

I cannot send you to Bath, alas, but I can provide a cozy read for this winter weather. The Unflappable Miss Fairchild, which concludes in Bath, is free until January 15, 2017.

The ever practical Anne Fairchild knows the proper way to seek a husband. So why is it one moment in the presence of the dashing Chas Prestwick, and she’s ready to throw propriety to the wind? Chas excels at shocking Society with his wild wagers and reckless carriage racing. But his bravado masks a bruised and lonely heart. Can the sweet-natured Anne convince him to take the greatest risk of all—on love?

Find it at fine online retailers:

Smashwords
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
iBooks

Green and Pleasant Land, Part 3: Bath

I think the city of Bath is a place that really must be experienced; photographs and descriptions simply won’t do justice to the elegance of the 18th century architecture, the cool, classical perfection of which is enlivened by the soft golden warmth of the Bath limestone out of which it is made. It’s a beautiful little place, a gem of a city, and wonderfully walkable despite its hilliness.

And walk we did—from our B&B at the foot of the hill upon which the famous Royal Crescent stands—an arc of very elegant row housing built in the 1760s-1770s—up to the Crescent itself. Lovely!

At the end of the Crescent (at right in the picture above) is a delightful historic house museum, No. 1 Royal Crescent, which has been restored to its 18th century origins as the home of Mr. Henry Sandford, who lived there from 1776 to 1796. In addition to the house itself, a small special exhibit of 18th and early 19th century doll houses was on display—an interesting follow-up to our visit to Windsor. Among the exhibits was a replica of a patent medical electrical machine, one of which Sandford is known to have owned and which became something of a fad in the early 19th century, but for entertainment purposes, not healing:

Our next stop was the Bath Assembly Rooms...

I had a little sigh viewing the lovely ballroom, wishing Almack's Assembly Rooms were still around...but this gave me a good feel for the space:

In the same building as the Assembly Rooms is the Fashion Museum of Bath, which boasts an enormous collection of clothing items dating all the way back to the 1580s. The emphasis of the current exhibit (which changes frequently as clothes can't be left on display for long--gravity does a job on them!) was 18th century, which was lovely (and a little stupefying--OMG those crazy court hoopskirts!) but alas not as interesting to me as a larger selection of, say, clothes from 1810 might have been. However, one of Queen Victoria's dresses ca. 1897 (black, of course) was on display, and...um, no disrespect intended, but yes, she was more or less as wide as she was tall!

After lunch, it was on to the Roman baths museum, which I visited on my last trip to England 25 years ago...and they're still pretty awesome in their extent and complexity:

Just for fun, here's an awesome picture my husband took of an unlit hypocaust alcove (the under-floor heating system the Romans used)--his flash revealed pencil-thin stalactites formed by the incredibly mineral rich water dripping down from somewhere: 

And yes, Daughter #1 and I were brave enough to sample the water at the Pump Room, where the infirm gathered for supposedly healing draughts of Bath's water....on the principle, I suppose, that anything that tastes so nasty must be good for you!

However, a very pleasant tea soon chased away the flavor:

A brief tour of Bath Abbey finished our visit to Bath...along with very sore feet.  But oh, what a day!

Next stop, Dartmoor: stones, sheep, and prehistory galore!

 

I'm Baaaaaack!

Well, the Doyles are back from England, laden with tea and books and some pretty cool fossils...and it was a blast! I'll be posting in (historical) detail about the sites we visited, but while I get my photos in order for that, here are a few images I thought you might like:

It being May, we were lucky enough to catch the bluebells in bloom in many locations, but this bluebell copse on Dartmoor in Devon was our favorite:

Along with primroses, which I'm more used to seeing in the garden center, not growing wild!

No, it's not really a snowflake...it's one of the chandeliers in the Assembly Room at Bath!

Is it some primordial monster from the depths of space? Nope, it's a glass sculpture at the Victoria and Albert Museum:

On the straight and narrow on Dartmoor:

Even the chimneys at Hampton Court are worth photographing:

 

And again, it being May, we saw lambs. A lot of very, very, very cute lambs!

Not to mention cows, source of the copious amounts of clotted cream we consumed.  Here is a new breed photographed in the New Forest, the demi-cow--ideal for smaller farms:

It's great to be home! :)

Wanted: Suitably Impressive London House to Rent for the Season

Location, location, location.  I’ve heard it said that’s the most important part of house buying, and as my husband and I consider downsizing, we’re finding it to be true.  But location wasn’t the only factor important to the families who went up to London for the Season in the nineteenth century, that time between Easter and the end of summer when anyone who was anyone ventured up to London for the rounds of parties, balls, and matchmaking among the upper class.  Families who were nobly born had a London house as well as an estate in the country and perhaps a hunting lodge somewhere they might reasonably expect to find small creatures to persecute, I mean hunt.  The rest of the aristocratic families did what many of us do today--they rented or leased.

Much of the land in London once belonged to large estates dating back to the middle ages.  The mighty families who owned these estates later developed them, keeping the land itself, but building houses on it they would then lease to suitably wealthy and pedigreed tenants.  For example, much of Mayfair, that area near Hyde Park devoted to the aristocracy in the early nineteenth century, was developed from lands belonging to the Grosvenor family.  

Some leases lasted only a Season.  Others lasted as long as a hundred years.  As you can imagine, if your family held one of those longer leases, generations would come to consider the house “theirs.”

Within these leased houses were several types.  There was the terraced house, must like today's townhouses, like these in Bath:

Most of these homes had only a few rooms suitable for entertaining.  They were perfect for sitting with a few friends and having a nice coz.  If you hoped to entertain, you would be better served to lease a larger townhouse with a small plot of land, enough for a garden, like Apsley House, home of the Duke of Wellington:

Such houses might boast a gallery suitable for a large dinner or perhaps a small soiree.  If you wanted to host your own ball, you’d have to locate a mansion with more extensive grounds.  This last type was the most rare in London, kept in the family so to speak, and was the most expensive to lease.  They might also be a bit outside London proper, like Holland House:

The larger the home, the larger the upkeep as well.  Larger houses required more servants, more furnishings and artwork.  Gardens required gardeners; stables necessitated grooms.  Sometimes smaller was more efficient.  However, larger was certainly more impressive.

So, what will your preference be, my lords and ladies?  What sort of home would you prefer this Season?

Let's Celebrate Christmas!

It's nearly here, that special day!  And Marissa and I are planning to celebrate with family and friends.  So let's start the celebration right here on Nineteenteen!

First off, what’s a Christmas party without a few decorations?  Last week I explained how to make kissing boughs.  I’ve set one right in the doorway of our lovely withdrawing room, just waiting to catch that handsome earl unawares.  Are you bold enough to steal a kiss?

Marissa’s friendship with Queen Victoria has inspired us to set up a Christmas tree as well.  We have spiced cider ready and cakes and mince pies as well as fruit brought from friends in the Indies.  And one of our lovely readers has volunteered to play for us, with carols dancing in the air.

Finally, allow us to bestow upon you more than our friendship.  We have certainly treasured yours this past year!  For starters, here’s a look at the annual Jane Austen promenade in Bath from this year.  Oh, to walk that pavement!

I’d also like to offer a dainty little book, embossed with your name in gold, of the collected sayings of Lord Pompadour Snedley.  You say you are unfamiliar with his work?  My dear, he is that expert on etiquette whose wisdom is being quoted among all the best families.  Although, ahem, I do think one or two of his sayings may have been misconstrued.  For example, this one:

“Young ladies are indebted to their chaperons, those maternal sorts who hover about at balls, making sure that everything is aboveboard. Do insist that they stay away from card tables, sharp objects, and the occasional cavorting in the servant's hall.”

You can find your book here. 

Happy Christmas, my dears!  Please enjoy the holidays and return with us on January 7, when we will resume our normal posting schedule of Tuesdays and Fridays.

Location, Location, Location

Marissa and I love the annual RWA conference because it gives us an excuse to get together. You see, she lives on the East Coast, and I live on the West Coast. Location was important during the nineteenth century too--it affected what you grew up to do, who you could marry, and how you'd live out your life. Here's a fun post from March 2008, after my most recent trip to England, about some prime locations in Bath. Enjoy!

Imagine your family has decided to relocate to Bath before the Season (so it’s late winter, early spring). Your mother is certain taking the waters will return the bloom to her cheeks. Your father wants to sit around commiserating with his wealthy peers about the frightful state of hunting last year. Your older sister is angling to renew the acquaintance of a dapper half-pay officer she met last Season. And you’d like a little time to scope out the Eligibles before joining these handsome gentlemen in London after Easter.

Where do you stay? Take the following quiz and find out!

A. The house is immaterial. You’re here to party! You’d like a decent house in a reasonably fashionable location, as close as possible to the fabulous shopping, festive assembly rooms, and crowded Pump Room. You intend to be busy, busy, busy while in Bath. You only need a place to sleep and eat, that is, when you haven’t been invited to some fabulous ball or other social event. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this prime location.

B. You want an oasis away from the hustle and bustle. Yes, it would be nice to be in walking distance to the assembly rooms, but closer to the gardens of Sydney Park would be even more delightful, as would wandering the many hills surrounding Bath. Shopping is fine, as is a nice coz with a good friend. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this fashionable spot.

C. You prefer that your family home, even a rented one, reflect your impeccable tastes. You intend to invite friends new and old to tea in your lovely garden, to literary events in your spacious library, to dinner in your elegant dining room. You prefer something solid, comfortable, distinguished, a cut above all that riff raff farther down the hill. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this venerable neighborhood.

D. You want your home to make a statement about your prestige, your position in Society. You may be going to Bath, but you fully expect the rest of Bath to come to you. Your family has achieved the pinnacle of Society, and that must be reflected in where you stay. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this famous sweep of property.

So, where are you staying? Complete our version of Bath’s famous arrival’s book by leaving a comment and let us know! Me? I’m definitely a B.

The Ball: A Primer

A ball is a ball is a ball. Right?

Well, not quite. There were actually a few different types of balls that we ought to go over...so here we go!

Public Balls: Also known as "assemblies." Most towns of any size from the 1770s onward had "assembly rooms", often located at an inn in smaller towns or in their own building in larger, where local society met for lectures, concerts, and other cultural events (some even included lending libraries)... and of course, dancing! (That's the Bath Assembly room at left). The wealthier local families would often pay a subscription fee to defray maintenance costs and pay for the services of a master of ceremonies, who ran all events (hiring an orchestra, arranging refreshments, etc.) Tickets were required for admission, with cost varying. Jane Austen was an avid assembly-goer, as can be seen from her letters...as were her beloved creations, the Bennett sisters. Attendance at these assemblies was generally self-limited to the gentry--that class of smaller landed families and professionals who could be considered "gentlemen" (the clergy, military officers, physicians, barristers), though assemblies for other classes might also be held. This may sound strange to modern American ears, but don't forget that in the 19th century, class distinctions were very real and accepted, and members of different social classes did not, on the whole, like to mingle socially.

In London, public balls were also held at places like Vauxhall (the orchestra stand is seen here at right) and Ranelagh, a cross between a public garden and a circus/carnival fairway. Most notorious were the masked balls held here, where all wore dominoes (voluminous hooded cloaks with masks) that concealed identity and promoted flirtation and secret assignations in the shrubbery for clandestine lovers. Again, anyone who could pay the admission fee could come.

That certainly wasn't the case with private balls, which were, of course, by invitation only (though gate-crashing was certainly a common phenomenon!) The season was prime ball-giving time, and a ball given by her family was often part of a debutante's presentation to society. Of course those were the most elaborate: the flowers and other decorations, the food and drink, the musicians must be the best. But elaborate balls were also part of entertaining in the country, either for the neighboring "families" or during the house parties that were common during the times when Parliament was not in session and the ton vacated London for their country estates.

Next week I'll be chatting about that early 19th century institution, Almack's-- a peculiar cross between a public and private ball...but in the meanwhile, stay tuned for Friday's dance lesson from Regina. White gloves prefered but not required.

Location, Location, Location

Imagine your family has decided to relocate to Bath before the Season (so it’s late winter, early spring). Your mother is certain taking the waters will return the bloom to her cheeks. Your father wants to sit around commiserating with his wealthy peers about the frightful state of hunting last year. Your older sister is angling to renew the acquaintance of a dapper half-pay officer she met last Season. And you’d like a little time to scope out the Eligibles before joining these handsome gentlemen in London after Easter.

Where do you stay? Take the following quiz and find out! (Hint, if you just want to see the pictures, click on the links at the end of each choice.)

A. The house is immaterial. You’re here to party! You’d like a decent house in a reasonably fashionable location, as close as possible to the fabulous shopping, festive assembly rooms, and crowded Pump Room. You intend to be busy, busy, busy while in Bath. You only need a place to sleep and eat, that is, when you haven’t been invited to some fabulous ball or other social event. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this prime location.

B. You want an oasis away from the hustle and bustle. Yes, it would be nice to be in walking distance to the assembly rooms, but closer to the gardens of Sydney Park would be even more delightful, as would wandering the many hills surrounding Bath. Shopping is fine, as is a nice coz with a good friend. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this fashionable spot.

C. You prefer that your family home, even a rented one, reflect your impeccable tastes. You intend to invite friends new and old to tea in your lovely garden, to literary events in your spacious library, to dinner in your elegant dining room. You prefer something solid, comfortable, distinguished, a cut above all that riff raff farther down the hill. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this venerable neighborhood.

D. You want your home to make a statement about your prestige, your position in Society. You may be going to Bath, but you fully expect the rest of Bath to come to you. Your family has achieved the pinnacle of Society, and that must be reflected in where you stay. If this is you, you’d be likely to pick this famous sweep of property.

So, where are you staying? Complete our version of Bath’s famous arrivals book by leaving a comment and let us know! Me? I’m definitely a B.

The Regina Scott Tour of England, Part 2

And here we are in lovely Bath. Watch your step getting off the bus. Bath still has cobble stone streets in places. They say that Bath, perhaps more than any other English city, still exudes its Georgian charm. You can certainly see it on the side streets, like this approach to Sally Lun’s (the house at the end with the red tile roof).

Sally Lunn’s. Yum. This bakery and now restaurant has been famous since before the nineteenth century for delectable bun developed by a young woman named Sally Lunn. Sally Lunn buns are still enjoyed today, either with something hearty like a meaty stew or something sweet like raspberry preserves and clotted cream.

Down the street from Sally’s and around the corner you’ll find the entrance to the main baths. Yes, Bath is named for bathing pools filled with hot spring water. While the baths were used since Roman times, in the nineteenth century it was popular to come take the waters for your health, by bathing or drinking or both. Think of it as one of the original spa treatments.

Just on the other side of the baths is the Pump Room where people came to see and be seen. When you arrived in Bath you made sure to sign the book here so that everyone would know you had arrived and where you were staying, so you could meet them, perhaps . . .

at the assembly rooms just up the hill. Here you danced, promenaded, played cards, and gossiped about everyone else who’d come to town. Here a young lady might meet a young gentleman attending his aged aunt, strike up a conversation, and make plans to meet again soon.

Next Friday we’ll be looking at some of the homes in Bath, and you can decide where you’d live back in the day. Until then, have a blessed and happy Easter! Rejoice!

Where Am I Today?

Well, if everything goes as planned, today Marissa is posting this because I’m in London! My dear friend and critique partner Kristin is with me, and we’re running around like crazy people, trying to see and do everything I’ve always longed to see and do. There are so many things on the list that squeezing the most out of the 5 days we have on the ground will be a daunting task. However, I thought perhaps you might like to know some of the places we hope to hit:

The Wallace Collection: This amazing private collection of art, furniture, and porcelain was bequeathed to the government in 1897, with the stipulation that nothing be added or taken away. We can wander through the 25 galleries and imagine we are the daughters of a wealthy house, and all this wonder is ours. http://www.wallacecollection.org/

The Thames Police Museum: I so want to write a story about these heroic men! They were one of the first organized state-sponsored police organizations in the world, founded in 1798 by two brilliant and charismatic visionaries. Our guide on this private tour tells me he’s just finished proofing his galleys for a book on the river police from that fateful day to 1830. I told him we’d have sooooo much to talk about! http://www.thamespolicemuseum.org.uk/

Spencer House: This Mayfair mansion was built in 1766 for the first Earl Spencer, an ancestor of the late Princess Di. I want to wallow in the opulence.

St. Martin in the Fields: This is one of the churches favored by the aristocracy (the other being St. George’s Hanover Square) in nineteenth century London. We hope to take in a lunchtime piano concerto and eat in the Café in the Crypt. Really. http://www2.stmartin-in-the-fields.org/page/home/home.html


Bath: This town still looks remarkably like it did when our nineteenth century teens visited with their mamas and elderly relations to take the waters at the spa. We hope to take a walking tour with a guide from the Jane Austen Centre, where they’ll no doubt have to drag us kicking and screaming from the gift shop. http://www.janesausten.co.uk/index.ihtml


I promise to take pictures and soak up ambience and report all when I get back. Until then, happy reading!