Jennifer Kloester Read online

  ON THE PROMENADE AND OTHER ENTERTAINMENTS

  By the early nineteenth century Brighton had become well known as the Prince’s town. Each summer the generally quiet fishing village was transformed into a popular destination for the rich and fashionable. While the Pavilion stood at the centre of Brighton’s social life there were also other entertainments and activities for the well-heeled and well-connected. By 1806, George Raggett, who owned the famous White’s club in London, had established Raggett’s club on the Steine and it was to Raggett’s that the gentlemen of the ton would repair during the season to enjoy an excellent dinner or indulge in high play over a hand of cards or the roll of the dice. Hester Theale’s father, Lord Brancaster, in Sprig Muslin was a member of the Prince Regent’s set and spent most summers in Brighton playing whist at the Pavilion with the Prince and his brother the Duke of York, and engaging in every other hedonistic pastime put in his way. Across the road from Raggett’s, also on the Steine, was Donaldson’s Library, an elegant, spacious building where visitors could read the papers, exchange books, meet friends or attend one of the regular evening card parties or musical soirées. Evenings could also be spent promenading along the Steine just before sunset (at the fashionable hour of nine o’clock), exchanging nods and bows and perhaps receiving a gracious acknowledgement from the Prince Regent himself or, on one of her two visits to Brighton in 1814 and 1815, from his ageing mother, Queen Charlotte. It was while strolling along the Steine during the promenade hour that Captain Audley met Bernard Taverner in Regency Buck and the two men walked together to the Castle Inn where they shared a bottle of wine.

  Sea bathing became increasingly popular during the Regency as more

  people came to believe in the healthful effects of salt water.

  As the town grew, a second library, Fisher’s, was opened on Marine Parade between Charles and Manchester Streets. With views across the sea, it was a comfortable venue for talking or reading, with all the major London newspapers delivered each evening by coach. The Brighton Herald, established in 1806 and with immediate access to the regular packet from Dieppe, often scooped the London papers in reporting foreign events and in 1814 was the first English paper to report Napoleon’s escape from Elba. As well as the libraries, Brighton had a good theatre in New Road, just west of the Pavilion, and an established programme of balls and card assemblies held at the Castle Inn and the Old Ship on alternate evenings. Race meetings were held at the course on the Downs just outside of town and were extremely popular with both male and female visitors. Brighton did not appeal to everyone, however: Lady Ombersley in The Grand Sophy, when asked where she would prefer to spend the summer months, declared that the town was not good for her constitution and her daughter Cecilia was adamant in judging the Regent’s parties at the Pavilion as ‘stupid’!

  Sea bathing became increasingly popular during the Regency as visitors travelled to Brighton to bathe in the sea and drink its water. Sea bathing was often referred to as ‘a cold medicated bath’ with a strict ritual to be followed by anyone wishing to gain full benefit from the activity. In Sprig Muslin, Lady Hester’s sister felt that a course of sea bathing might prove beneficial to her small, rather sickly son. Patients were required to prepare for bathing by regularly drinking sea water, and bathing was to be done in cold weather when the pores were ‘safely’ closed. It was considered dangerous to bathe after exercise, or in warmer weather, as this was thought to increase the risk of contracting a chill or worse. For some, however, sea bathing had become a pleasure and they would brave the waters even in the summer, undressing in the dressing machines and swimming naked or donning the more modest linen or flannel shift and stepping into the water from their horse-drawn wheeled box after it had been pulled into the sea. Ladies and gentlemen were usually separated, and for the uninitiated or less confident there were paid helpers (known as dippers) on hand to assist bathers.

  BATH

  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, Car