Georgette Heyer's Regency World (16 page)

The city of Bath in the Avon Valley in Somerset was well known for its famous mineral spas and many beautiful eighteenth-century buildings. Bath had been popular for its hot springs during Roman times but it was during the eighteenth century that it experienced its ‘golden age’ as a fashionable resort. The new, or upper, town was set apart from the old lower town by its classically designed houses and, in particular, by John Wood the Elder’s magnificent Circus built between 1754 and 1758. Comprising thirty-three terraced houses set in a circle around a wide expanse of road, the Circus was inspired by the Coliseum in Rome and, in Bath, was rivalled only by the semicircular row of terraced houses west of the Circus known as Royal Crescent. The Crescent quickly became one of the iconic images of Bath and its building set a trend in the late eighteenth century for other spa towns, such as Buxton, Leamington and Cheltenham, to build their own crescents. It was to Royal Crescent that Sherry escorted his mother, the Dowager Lady Sheringham, and Miss Milborne in
Friday’s Child
, and it was while crossing the Circus in his curricle that he saw his wife, Hero, being escorted down Russell Street by another man. Other well-known Bath landmarks were the grand York House Hotel in George Street and the New or Upper Assembly Rooms in Bennett Street.

Bath reached the height of its popularity as a fashionable resort in the later eighteenth century and, although still well patronised by the time of the Regency, its hotels and lodging-houses were tenanted more by the elderly, the retired and the shabby genteel, than by the rich and fashionable. It was in Bath that Annis Wychwood in
Lady of Quality
chose to live without the protection of a male relative and in spite of strong family opposition to the idea of an unmarried woman setting up her own establishment. The various attractions of the town such as the Pump Room and the Upper and Lower Assembly Rooms continued to draw large numbers of people, however, and well-established social programmes offered a range of entertainments throughout the season. Visitors to Bath had a wide choice of inns, hotels and lodging-houses, but the most respectable and best-known hotels were the Christopher in High Street, the Pelican on Walcot Street, the less genteel White Hart in Stall Street and, best of all, the York House Hotel with its well-appointed rooms, fine food, excellent service and convenient location on George Street at the northern end of Milsom Street, just a short walk from the Upper Assembly Rooms. Ideally set up and situated to service travellers coming into Bath by coach from London, Bristol and the Midlands, with a large stable and plenty of rooms for tired travellers, it was also the most expensive hotel in Bath. Miles Calverleigh stayed at the York House in
Black Sheep
and his nephew Stacy shocked Abigail Wendover’s prim sister Selina by questioning whether his devil-may-care uncle could really afford to stay there or whether he would leave town without paying his bill.

The Upper and Lower Assembly Rooms

The Assembly Rooms were a vital part of Bath life. Here people met to dance, play cards, gamble, listen to music and talk, and here Richard ‘Beau’ Nash established himself as the first Master of Ceremonies and became the acknowledged leader of Bath society for much of the eighteenth century. A strict protocol was enforced in the Assembly Rooms and guests were required to sign the subscription book or risk incurring the displeasure of the Master of Ceremonies. In
Friday’s Child
, Lord Sheringham made the fatal error of neglecting to sign the Master’s book and as a result found himself being presented to the plainest female present when he attended a ball at the Lower Rooms. Balls began at seven o’clock and ended at eleven p.m. precisely. Full evening dress was
de rigueur
and, as Abigail Wendover obligingly explained to Miles Calverleigh in
Black Sheep
, while country-dances and cotillions were acceptable, waltzing was not permitted and those wishing to stand up for the minuet had to be in their places no later than eight o’clock. Tea was served part way through the evening and cost sixpence.

The Lower Rooms were the pre-eminent venue for assemblies until 1771 when the growth of the new, or upper town, saw the building of the magnificent new Upper Assembly Rooms in Bennett Street (also known as the New Assembly Rooms) comprising a grand Ballroom, Tea Room, Card Room and, linking all three, an Octagon Room. In
Black Sheep
, Abigail Wendover met several of her friends in the Octagon Room before attending a concert given by Neroli, and took tea afterwards with Mr Calverleigh who told her that the singer had put him in mind of a blancmange. Although both the Upper and Lower Rooms offered subscribers a range of entertainments, the Upper Rooms were generally considered superior and tended to dominate the weekly round of events with a dress ball on Mondays, card assembly on Tuesdays, concert on Wednesdays and fancy ball on Thursdays. As a result, the social life in Bath was often marked by a rivalry between the two sets of rooms and between the two reigning Masters of Ceremonies.

The role of Master of Ceremonies derived from a position held at the royal courts, where a designated individual was held responsible for supervising and, at times, deciding what constituted acceptable public behaviour in the Pump Room, the Baths and the Assembly Rooms, thus protecting visitors to Bath from uncouth or unseemly conduct. The Master’s presence, as demonstrated by Nash in the eighteenth century, also implied a certain level of decorum, manners and behaviour at social functions and reassured those present that their fellow guests were of a particular social standing. It also gave an event a certain cachet, designating it as fashionable and, for those in his favour, it could mean an easy entrée into elite circles. It was customary for visitors to Bath to sign the Master’s subscription book upon arrival, enabling him to make a formal call and effect necessary introductions at future social events. Neglecting to write one’s name in the book was tantamount to an insult and inevitably resulted in some degree of social discomfort for the perpetrator. In
Bath Tangle
, Lady Serena advised her young mother-in-law of the wisdom of writing their names in the Masters’ books despite the fact that both ladies were in mourning and unable to attend either balls or card assemblies. Once apprised of the ladies’ arrival in Bath, both Mr King of the Upper Rooms and his rival Mr Guynette of the Lower were assiduous in their attentions and did all they could to make the Dowager Countess’s stay agreeable.

The Pump Room

Taking the waters at Bath meant either bathing in one of the hot pools or, the preferred option, drinking the water in the Pump Room. This was the social hub of daily life in Bath during the Regency, for here residents and visitors would gather throughout the day to take the waters, stroll about the room, meet friends, exchange news, listen to the small orchestra and survey the scene for any newcomers who might be worthy of introduction to one’s social circle—although Lady Serena in
Bath Tangle
caused her mama-in-law considerable consternation when she struck up a friendship with the outspoken, flamboyant and decidedly middle-class Mrs Floore. The Great Pump Room was opened in 1799 and visitors entering through the grand Ionic colonnade adorning the exterior found themselves in a large, spacious room, elegantly appointed with Corinthian pillars, tall multi-paned windows and furnished with benches, chairs and Chippendale seats. A pumper dispensed glasses of the famous mineral water to those regular visitors to the Pump Room who had paid their season’s subscription and to occasional drinkers on payment of a small sum. On most days (when she had nothing better to do) Selina Wendover in
Black Sheep
made a point of drinking a glass of the famous water although she did not really enjoy it. Many claims were made for the wholesomeness of drinking Bath water but for some, such as Fanny in
Bath Tangle
, the benefits of attending the Great Pump Room were to be found more in the pleasant setting and social interaction than in the waters themselves. For those visitors wishing to bathe in the waters rather than drink them, there was a choice of several baths, such as the King’s Bath, the Cross Bath, the Queen’s Bath and the Hot Bath. During the Regency, mixed bathing was permitted in all the baths except for the Queen’s Bath which was for women only. Bath attendants assisted both men (suitably clad in shirts and drawers) and women (in a linen shift) to enter the baths and supervised the bathers as they wallowed up to their necks in the warm, steamy waters. Bath’s hot springs were famous for their curative powers and it was for this reason that in
Sylvester
the Duke of Salford went to such extraordinary lengths to get his invalid mother there.

Taking the Cure

Good health was highly prized during the Regency when the vast array of illness and disease meant that the chance of avoiding the physician’s risky diagnosis, the surgeon’s knife or the apothecary’s brews was minimal. Neither wealth nor title was a guarantee of health and even the best physicians were still limited in their understanding of disease. Many people proved remarkably resilient, however, undergoing surgery without anaesthetic and enduring the purges, emetics, leeches, hot plasters, induced blisters, opiates and other ‘curatives’ in the doctor’s arsenal without a murmur. Treatment was generally a response to symptoms, rather than a preventative measure, and it was not uncommon for the ‘cure’ to be as bad as, or, in some cases, worse than the illness itself. In
Friday’s Child
, the Dowager Lady Sheringham was convinced that while in Bath she should avail herself of the newest treatments, including the four different waters at Dr Wilkinson’s rooms and the Russian Vapour Baths.

Responses to illness and injury took various forms, and patients had a wide choice of advisers, healers, medications, cures, traditional wisdom and folklore. Many people self-medicated and women such as Mrs Dauntry in
Frederica
, believing herself to suffer from a weak constitution, took a wide range of medications including goat’s whey for a non-existent consumption, paregoric draughts, restoratives and other remedies. Those wishing for medical advice could avail themselves of the services of the local apothecary, surgeon, wise woman, herbalist or village quack, while for those who could afford it a visit from a physician was considered desirable. For some patients the attentions of an understanding, well-spoken medical practitioner could be so comforting that they would call on him at the first sign of a symptom. Faced with the often dull life of a well-bred, older single lady, Selina Wendover in
Black Sheep
frequently developed nervous disorders or other ‘interesting conditions’ that required the attention of the best doctors in Bath.