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Showing posts with label Austen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Austen. Show all posts

Tuesday, 27 August 2019

Sarah's adventures in Bath part II

On the second day we took a taxi all the way up to the Royal Crescent and walked down, via the Circus, past the assembly room and down Milsom Street.  I would have liked to have gone poking around the back of the Royal Crescent as I have been told that though the fronts are uniform, the backs are all different, but I knew my limitations.
Unfortunately there are all the cars and the scaffolding on the one being repaired, but it gives some idea.


Looking across the wonderful green in front of the royal crescent; I think this is Marlborough Buildings

Number 1 is a museum.  I looked at the steps and quailed, and we did not go round it this time.  One of the things on my wishlist for next time.

this is as wide an angle as I could get on the circus without it getting really distorted

it's circular and they all look like this ....



The road leading to the Upper AssemblyRooms goes off sort of 1/3 of the way around from the road leading to the royal cresent. It's called Bennett St.  Inspiration much, Miss Austen?


the upper assembly rooms
We didn't get downstairs to the museum of fashion either; another one to go on my wish list.  Opposite this face is the back of some of the houses in the circus:

now to my mind these backs are grand enough to be fronts!  I'd love to have the view from those upper windows which I think if I have my orientation correct is off towards Lansdown.
in the vestibule.  I did my best with the interior shots; sorry they are not better
the great octagonal card playing room. those open doors are opposite the door from the vestibule into where they now have refreshments; the photo is from the door into the ballroom. 

the ballroom.  I made it 44 candles per candelabrum and 5 of them, and 4 candles to the pound for the long ones for a ball  so 55 shillings per ball; call it three quid, not even considering the candles in the other rooms. In perspective an upper servant earned £25 a year. there were two balls a week.
the ballroom ceiling
the balcony, I presume for the band.



the tea room; there was some sort of children's craft activity in here so we didn't stay
after leaving the assembly room we went down a little alley and found ourselves between the backs of houses where there were mews. I've never seen mews before so I was dead chuffed as they are pretty much untampered with save to have garage doors instead of coach doors.
Looking down Milsom Street.  My husband said 'that bike is an anachronism', and I said, 'no. it's a Yamaha'.
I think this is the last bow-fronted shop in the street. 
Somerset Buildings Milsom St with the central Bow
Mr Godwin's Library, I believe

By the time we got to the bottom we were hoping for a cuppa at the Jane Austen Centre; so we turned right, and trailed up the hill past Queen Square, only to find that the tea room was up 2 flights, it was closing in 5 minutes, and the museum was on various levels too, so we departed without looking around, tired, in pain, and disgruntled.  We mislaid ourselves a little bit but found ourselves outside the theatre royal, which had not been on my itinerary so that was a bonus.

the theatre royal.
And we found a nice Italian restauraunt across the square from the theatre where I discovered wild boar and pork meatballs which were incredible.  Especially to two famished and exhausted middle aged women with mobility issues and a growing case of snippy temper. 

Next, Pulteney Bridge and Parade Gardens. I regret I did not get to Sydney Gardens. Another one for next time.

Thursday, 21 March 2013

Vanities and Vexations is published! an easier matter than in Jane Austen's time

And is also available on Kindle.
This may take a day or two to appear however as the immediacy of electronic information transfer isn't that immediate.

However at least it doesn't take as long as it did for Jane Austen, who had to wait for her MS to be typeset with moveable type, the physical printing of the first run, after the expert in that field had worked out where to put them..... because in a physical book of the era before perfect-bound [glued in] pages the making of a book involved the making up of sigs where several pages were enclosed together [usually one sig would be printed on one sheet of paper and then cut to be sewn together]. If you have 12 pages in a sig, for example, the first double spread will have page 1 and page 12 on one side, and pages 2 and 11 on the other, inside which is the spread of pages 3 and 10, with 4 and 9, and so on.  Is it a pain?  too right it is!  And yes, I DO know because I've done it manually by using the printer on the computer to print two pages side by side and sewn and bound them. 
And then when all the sigs are assembled and sewn, they are joined by sewing down the back and attached to the book muslin to attach them into the spine, and the whole are of bookbinding is a mighty business in itself and I couldn't put it better than Kathryn Kane in the Regency Redingote to be found HERE.

Of course Jane also had to wait for her novel to appear three times over each time as it was published in three volumes.  I may moan about technology but I have to say, I'm glad I live now!  especially as CreateSpace are continually improving their service [thanks CreateSpace, great team!]

Saturday, 16 March 2013

Vanities and Vexations, a Pride and Prejudice sequel, one step closer!

I got my proof copy today of Vanities and Vexations and I'm liking the way the cover looks printed, so now all I need is for my proof reading victims to check out typos and any stray wrong names from when I changed certain things....
Those people familiar with Vanities and Vexations from the fan sites I posted the first copy on will hopefully like the addition of frisky charades for Anne and John,  the mention of chalked floors and the school for Embroideressers [thanks to Kathryn Kane for her excellent information thereof]

These are the elements I used to make the cover, which I did purely in the computer, a first for me!  I took a number of figures from around the right period from fashion plated out of Ackermann's Repository and added them to a background of a colour to match the age-darkened paper.

1813 vol 9 Ackermann's
when I saw this I thought of Kitty, and the balustrades gave me an idea.  Well it took some jiggery pokery but I managed to marry the two visible balustrades together and make a whole row of them, which initially I intended to go just across the front.  I think it was an inspired idea to take them across the back too...

I found it easy to choose Georgiana, a tall elegant girl, and her classical piece of decoration went well enough with the balustrades: 
1814 vol 11 Ackermann's

Mary wasn't so easy but I plumped on this one because it went nicely with the others and the girl looked a little diffident.

1813 vol 9 Ackermann's





I had a choice of seated figures for Anne and I chose this one because she has a long pelisse-like outer garment that might be for extra warmth, a cap, and is writing. 

1813 vol 10 Ackermann's



You will notice that I chose to mirror this picture in the finished cover to be looking towards the other girls, but slightly separated to suggest the initial wariness, even as Mary is looking away from Kitty. 

So I put those together....


And the final result? 



Sunday, 2 December 2012

Patchwork in history.

Please note: this is about patchwork, NOT about quilting.  In American parlance the two are synonymous but are not always so in Britain and certainly they started out as different skills.  Quilting is an ancient art used to increase warmth or armour protection; patchwork is a way to use up left over cloth.

The earliest literary suggestion of patchwork also refers to quilting, a counterpane of two sorts of silk in a checkerboard pattern, and embroidered about the edge. “quilt…of a check-board pattern of two sorts of silk cloth, well-made and rich…Around appears the new flower”appears in La Lai del Desire a French poem describing a bridal bed in the late 12th century.  It implies that the art was already known. 

It is possible that the concept of marrying more than one type of fabric with another came from the appliqué work brought back by crusaders from the Holy Land, and certainly the appliqué of heraldic devices and in church embroideries became common.  Subsequently the craze for particoloured clothing spread to the upper classes at least.  Some appliqué work may have been quilted in the Trapunto fashion, to raise just the applied shape, where a slit is cut behind the applied piece and wadding inserted, the small slit then sewn up. 

Etymological research into the word 'patch' gives some very interesting results: I use the excellent online etymological dictionary which if anything errs on the side of caution when I have cross referenced. 

Patch: 

[1] "piece of cloth used to mend another material," late 14c., of obscure origin, perhaps a variant of pece, pieche, from O.N.Fr. pieche (see piece, (n.)), or from an unrecorded Old English word

[2] "fool, clown," 1540s, perhaps from It. pazzo "fool," which is possibly from O.H.G. barzjan "to rave." Form perhaps influenced by folk etymology derivation from patch, (n.1), on notion of a fool's patched garb. But Buck says pazzo is originally euphemistic, and from L. patiens "suffering," in medical use, "the patient."

By Shakespeare's time the use of the word 'patch' for a fool was widespread enough for it to be applied as a description in Merchant of Venice regarding Laurence Gobbo; though particoloured clothes relating to the official fool or jester were usually called motley, remaining with Shakespeare in Twelfth Night the jester Feste declares that he wears not motley in his head - his foolery is his profession, he is no fool in his own thoughts.  Again in As you like it the quote 'Motley's the only wear' can be found.
However the official fools and their motley have earlier origins.
Camille Cognac, the acknowledged expert on crazy quilts,draws parallels with the Comedia del'arte of Venice's carnival, originating in 1162 as quoted by Cindy Brick author of Crazy Quilts - History - Techniques - Embroidery Motifs.   The characters include Harlequin, a magical faery character who is dressed in a multicoloured and patched costume, formalised in pattern later in history [and made famous by the Wedgewood figurines] . 'the patches could be remnants of other, richer clothes. Sometimes the colours on Harlequin's clothes are evenly divided....but on other occasions he appears in a suit of basted-together patches that look much like crazy patchwork'.

So it is established that patchwork in a crazy form and maybe more regular joining of simple shapes such as squares may go back in England to the 12th century; Celia Eddy, a British quilt historian also says, again establishing the differences between patchwork and quilting in the early years:

"As in most parts of the world, patchwork and quilting were originally two distinct techniques, serving both functional and decorative purposes. In poorer households, patchwork would have been an important way of prolonging the life of fabrics, which in pre-industrial days were labour-intensively produced in the home and would only have been discarded as a last resort. More affluent homes, as written records show, tended to own highly decorative quilts and quilted clothing which were partly designed to display the wealth and importance of their owners."

the first physical evidence we have of a patchwork coverlet is that of Anne Hathaway.  Anne Hathaway owned a counterpane made of odd shaped, and often long thin patches sewn down onto a base of some kind; from what I could see, the work had begun at one end and worked to the other, each piece overlapping the one before slightly.  As well as covering some edges this would also have the practical effect of increasing the layers.  Having myself  made crazy patchwork curtains with much overlapping, and holding the edges with herringbone stitch I can attest to the efficacy of the extra layers in keeping warmth in and cold out!   However such counterpanes could also prolong the life of thin sheets or blankets with adding the extra cloth and it seems reasonable to suppose that such use of scraps must have occurred to thrifty goodwives long before Anne Hathaway! 
Anne Hathaway's bedsteat at Shottery, Stratford-upon-Avon showing her crazy patchwork coverlet. From 'Creative Patchwork' by June Field


It is the transition from crazy patchwork, or sewn together squares etc to English style pieced patchwork which is hard to establish.

First, for the benefit of American readers I should perhaps define 'English Patchwork'.
This involves the cutting of paper shapes around which the fabric is folded and tacked, the folded edges to be sewn together with whip stitch.  The common shape is the hexagon, not a shape to be tackled without a template of paper to hold it together.
paper hexagon pinned to fabric in throes of being tacked on
several hexagons joined, showing paper holding those on the outside, and paper removed from middle hexagons
It is common practice now to remove the paper shapes once a hexagon is surrounded by others [and there are various techniques for dealing with the outermost edge when one gets there including the brute force one of taking all the paper out and treating the edge as an uneven edge to be seamed into a backing]; however this was not always the case, and the rag-heavy paper that was used remained in the garment or counterpane as an extra layer, also effectively adding a kind of quilting.
here's one I made earlier...

The earliest surviving geometric patchwork that can be reliable dated is the 1718 quilt found in 2000.  This is less geometric than the hexagon quilt though each piece, including the curved pieces, is pieced over paper and has appliqué as well; see it here.  Levens Hall in Cumbria claims a date of around 1708 for their quilted patchwork made from scraps of imported Indian chintz.  It is hard to prove the roots of the hexagon patchwork pattern.  The popular 'grandmother's garden' certainly dates to the late 18th century and the V&A actually produce a reproduction print of one dated 1797-1830 here.  Essentially a series of rosettes are made, each around a central hexagon, which are then joined with neutral coloured hexagons between to separate them into 'flowers' on a 'ground'.
Godey's Ladies' book published a hexagon pattern in 1830 when it was fashionable to do things in an English way, but it had been around already for a very long time. 

In Jane Austen's time the piecing of geometric shapes was well established tending towards hexagons or diamonds; with diamonds, larger and smaller pieces could be used so long as the larger diamonds had a precise geometric relation to the smaller ones such as the quilt made by Jane Austen and her mother with input from Cassandra.  More can be found  out about that here.  Her quilt has a trellis between the diamonds but this is not always necessary. 

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

Kindle overtakes this neo-luddite...

Well it took me a long time to accept the idea of digital cameras [and now I have an SLR which can do anything a real camera can do except the specialist function of a shifting front camera] and it's taken me a while to accept Kindle too.

Well I got there.  Death of a Fop is not only on Kindle, but from 1st July to 5th July 2012 it will be free!  And guess what, Amazon's special widget to allow me to post links isn't working... so I've put it in manually: DOF Kindle

I will be adding William Price of the 'Thrush' and Poison for a Poison Tongue to Kindle, hopefully over the next few days if I can get up the courage to jump through the various necessary hoops....

Monday, 25 June 2012

The War of 1812...and, er, also 1813, 1814 and a smidgeon of 1815

Also announcing the publishing of 'William Price and the 'Thrush'' which should be on Amazon any day now.


Now it’s the bicentennial year of the war of 1812 it’s very appropriate that I have published ‘William Price and the ‘Thrush’’ as William’s adventures take part in that slightly misnamed war that suggests the hostilities were confined to one year.  This is a war in which neither side is particularly covered in righteousness or glory; one of those wars without a real baddie where neither side was entirely in the wrong – or entirely in the right.  The acronym SNAFU may not have been coined until WWII but it might well have been applied to this war.

The War of 1812 in fact took place over the next two years from its declaration on 18th June 1812 and spilled over into 1815, when the battle of New Orleans was fought on the 8th January 1815 after the Treaty of Ghent had been signed ending the war on Christmas Eve 1814.

The main reason for the war, though it was never really admitted to, was the desire of the United States to add Canada to their possessions.  However America was also sore at Britain on a couple of counts, which were the publicly claimed reasons for declaring war. Firstly, British warships had a habit of stopping and searching American ships for deserters or those they claimed as British citizens, which could at times be very loosely interpreted to include those who had emigrated.  The other bone of contention was the Orders in Council; these were laws enacted by the king and his advisors which had not passed through Parliament, and which forbade trade between America and any port in possession of the Napoleonic Empire.  This was naturally very unpopular, and British trading interests also protested.  The laws were repealed but by the time this was enacted, war had already broken out.  Britain had its own grievances, in wanting those who had fought on the British side during the American  War of Independence to have their property and civil rights restored.

During the war, America tried unsuccessfully to invade Canada, and made several object lessons to the Royal Navy about how to outbuild and outsail British shipping.  Britain burned Washington and damaged the White House, which acquired its iconic name from that point since it was hastily painted white to obscure the scorch marks.  Britain also donated an iconic song to America by presenting them with the rocket’s red glare in the use of Congreve’s rockets. 

Britain did not really throw her heart into this war, being a little preoccupied with the aggression of Napoleon Bonaparte.  However, when Bonaparte was confined [albeit briefly] to Elba in Spring 1814, Britain could afford to concentrate a little harder on her second front.  This, incidentally, is why Waterloo was, in the words of the Duke of Wellington, “a damned close run thing”, since the veterans of the Peninsula War had gone to help the Canadians and their Native allies; and Wellington was forced to operate with green troops ‘an infamous army’ during the 100 days when Napoleon escaped and returned.  The increase in British involvement in 1814 brought about a grinding to a stalemate and the Treaty of Ghent.

A lacklustre commander meant that a British counter-invasion launched from Canada was a total failure, and American overtures for peace were readily accepted.  The terms were effectively a return to status quo ante bellum, a return to the state of affairs as they were pre war, effectively meaning that a lot of people had died and been injured for bugger all, a lot of money had been spent on both sides for nothing, and the grievances of both parties went entirely unaddressed.  What a bloody waste of time – and I pick my words most carefully.

References

Richards & Hunt, ‘Illustrated History of Modern Britain 1783-1964’ Longmans 1965 [old but still a good basic reference]
Ed. Gardiner, Robert, ‘The Naval War of 1812’ Chatham Publishing, 1998
Hitsman, J Mackay,  ‘The incredible war of 1812’  The University of Toronto, 1965

STOP PRESS! 'Death of a Fop' is now on Kindle! 

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Why I like to write Jane Austen spinoffs

Having sent for a second proof of 'William Price and the Thrush' now all the revisions are complete, and having been writing like mad on sequels to 'Death of a Fop' I paused to wonder what it was that made Jane Austen so popular for fanfiction writers. 

Speaking for some that I have read there seems to be a theme of 'what if'; that if one small thing were changed what might have happened, for example, what might have happened had not Elizabeth Bennett heard that disastrous comment  about being 'tolerable'.  Although I find the better-written examples of these 'what if' scenarios may be entertaining to read, they are 'not enough to tempt me' as one might say in terms of writing.  For me, Austen has told the tale the way she wanted to tell it, and she is the master, I am but the learner [sorry, wrong universe!]. However from a child I have always wondered 'what happened next' in stories, which is why I lapped up such things as the Famous Five of Enid Blyton, who had an adventure every holiday, as did Malcom Saville's excellent Lone Piners, Arthur Ransome's Swallows and Amazons and so on; and as I grew older, I found those stories like Swallows and Amazons where the protagonists grew up and grew as characters were the more satisfying.  When I discovered EM Brent-Dyer's Chalet School series which spanned generations, literally, of schoolgirls, I was captivated by how much a series could encapsulate.

Returning to the world of Jane Austen, I again was drawn so into the stories that I found myself wondering what happened next; for some people the immediate consequences of living happily ever after were definitely implied, but Austen is such a master that her lesser characters also live quite vividly, even those who only make a brief appearance - like William Price, sailor brother of Fanny in Mansfield Park.  In the few short sections which include him he is delightfully depicted as a man who is deeply loyal to his sister and totally enamoured of his chosen career as a naval officer.   Equally, in Death of a Fop, I was drawn to Jane Fairfax in 'Emma' and felt that there was a lot more to her than appeared on the surface - my opinion is amply backed by Mr Knightley - and that she was throwing herself away on Frank Churchill.  Frank was plainly a man who was deeply in love with Frank Churchill, and gave every appearance of having a weak, vain, character that disliked being thwarted.  My premise for his supposed devotion to a penniless girl like Jane was that he wanted someone he could bully as a catharsis to his reactions to his controlling aunt.   Jane was so desperate to escape a life as a governess that she was willing to be pliable and, once flattered into thinking herself in love, was ready to fall in with his plans in any respect.  The way he humiliates her on the picnic is quite nauseating - I have had some experience with abused wives and I felt sick to the stomach with recognition of some of the symptoms.  It occurred to me that once the scales of luuurve fell from Jane's eyes, she was probably capable of a lot of inner strength and stubborn rebellion.  She had growing and developing to do, which made her for me a more interesting character than Emma, whose pilgrimage from 'Mr Woodhouse's daughter' to 'Mr Knightley's bride' had been the main thesis of the book as Emma learned that people did not always like the same things that she did, and that kindness and well-meaning had to be allied with thoughtfulness and compassion.  And no, don't worry, I'm not about to launch into an essay on the same.

My desire to follow up more 'what happened next' stories will continue, as well as a series about Jane and the Bow Street Runner.  I have three novellas to publish as a book waiting for first editing, and I'm about three quarters of the way through a full length novel following them.  Unless I decide to take them apart and make each of them into a novel when I edit.  Things like that can happen.... 
I have also every desire to publish 'Vanities and Vexations' which is the tale of what happened next to the women of the Bennett and Darcy families.  Elizabeth Darcy has, if she but knew it, just enough of her mother in her to have the drive to want to make sure that her new sister Georgiana is as happy as she is herself. 

Well, there you have it.  Happy ever after isn't enough for me; greedy, aren't I? 
Of course one of the other authors who gives us wonderful secondary characters is Georgette Heyer; but her books are covered by copywrite.  Pity....

Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Guest Blog - Helen Lashbrook on Bath, so closely associated with Jane Austen


Introducing Helen Lashbrook, historian with particular interest in the Second World War, who as a Heyer fan kindly agreed to write a piece about one of those places so dear to Heyer, Austen and anyone who is interested in the Regency.  Her excellent potted history takes us from Bath’s inception to its place in England today showing that though the reasons for visiting it might change, Bath has attracted visitors through the ages! Helen’s own blogspot about Edda Mussolini may be found at http://wolfgang20.blogspot.com/ .
Bath – A City for all Ages
Early history
Bath is placed on the edge of the scarp slope on the southern end of the Cotswolds. It lies on a ridge of blue Lias clay, surrounded on three sides by the river Avon. The springs that caused the birth of the city rise up through a fault line in the underlying Carboniferous limestone. There is archaeological evidence for settlements around the site of the city in prehistory; flints & barrows are found across the surrounding hills. Between the 8th & 6th centuries BC there was a communal settlement at Bathhampton about 3 miles from Bath itself. North of the city, at Sion Hill, there is evidence of an Iron Age settlement, with findings of Celtic-style pottery.
Roman bath
Although there is very little evidence to show ritual use of the springs before the arrival of the Romans it is interesting to note that the Roman name for Bath – Aquae Sulis (Waters of Sulis) - was honouring a Celtic goddess, Sulis. This goddess was later transformed into Minerva Sulis, thus conjoining the Celtic goddess with a major deity from the Roman pantheon of gods. Minerva Sulis was viewed as an life-giving mother & as effective agent for curses.

Gilt bronze head of Minerva Sulis found in 1727 – source Wikimedia Commons

When the Romans arrived in England in AD43 they soon decided to create a frontier line guarding the lands they had already subjugated. To link the frontier forts the Fosse Way was built by the Imperial engineers. The Fosse Way crossed the Avon near Bath. There is some evidence to suggest that Acquae Sulis may have originally been a military town, supplied by a military cemetery containing bodies of men, who appear to have died on active service. When the military moved on to new front lines, further north, the settlement remained. Following the Boudicca rebellion in AD60 work began on the creation of the Temple of Sulis Minerva, with baths where pilgrims could bathe in the sacred waters.


Great Bath


Part of hypocaust system
The temple complex was gradually added to over the years, but major modifications were made circa 300AD. The original spring was now roofed over & the complex renovated. Aquae Sulis was a rich town benefitting from the pilgrims from all over Europe, resulting in the building of large domestic dwellings as evidenced by the mosaic floors found during excavations.
In 380AD Emperor Theodosius had proclaimed Christianity as the official religion of the empire, while in 313AD Emperor Constantine had given Christians permission to worship as they chose. How much effect this had on pilgrims attending the shrine of Minerva Sulis is unknown.
But the 4th century AD also saw a defensive wall built around the town as the Roman empire began its period of decline. In 410AD the Emperor Honorarius, in response to a request for help, told the Roman Britons to see to their own defences. The town wall may well have been a response to the Emperor’s inability to defend the outer edges of his empire, but is likely to have been built earlier during the internecine squabbles that tore the empire apart.

Medieval Bath
The loss of the Roman military, withdrawing to support the heart of the empire, meant the collapse of economic, social & political systems that had been in place for nearly five centuries. The Anglo Saxon Chronicles make mention of the Battle of Dyrham in 577AD leaving Bath, Cirencester & Gloucester in the hands of the Saxons. The temple precinct was kept repaired during the 4th century but it would appear that the buildings stood for some hundreds of years, notwithstanding the probable removal of stone & brick for building private dwellings.
Later in the Chronicle we are informed of the sack of Bath by Robert de Mobray, in his rebellion against William Rufus in 1088. After the stamping out of de Mobray’s rebellion William Rufus made John of Tours Bishop of Wells. John of Tours was the driving force behind the new Cathedral started in circa 1091. It was probably built of wood & suffered two fires in the 12th century. It was rebuilt/repaired by Bishop Robert of Lewes.  Bishop John, known for his interest in medicine & science, was possibly also responsible for the renovation of the King’s Bath. By 1379 328 persons were listed as living in the city.
The building of the current abbey church was circa 1495- 1503. Queen Elizabeth visited the city twice  in 1574 & 1591.


18th Century bath
In the 18th century Bath was still contained within its medieval walls with just over 2000 inhabitants, but within one hundred years the city had changed beyond recognition & new buildings now climbed the hill behind the city. The city population showed a dramatic increase to 28,000.
17th century doctors, eager for business, had touted the benefits of the waters. Princess Anne’s 1692 visit followed in the footsteps of her royal predecessors, who visited Bath seven times during the century. She returned again, as queen, twice in the early years of the new century & in her wake came Richard, Beau Nash who was to create an attraction that brought society to Bath. The main season ran from September to May. In 1746 The Bath Journal records 50 noteworthy visitors, by 1800 that number had increased to 5,341. As the city had lodgings for 12,000 in 1749 the assumption must be that there were many, many more non-notables visiting as well.

Assembly Rooms Bath – source Wikimedia Commons
The Assembly Rooms, as we know them today, were completed in 1771. The original Assembly Room (or Harrison’s Rooms as they were known) was built with a tea room & card room, soon to be joined by a ballroom in 1720.
In 1725, following the news of a scheme to improve navigation along the Avon between Bristol & Bath, the architect John Wood designed a plan to improve Bath. Among various jobs he worked on, prior to the commencement of his grand design, was the plans of a new Assembly Room, opposite Harrison’s Rooms, called Lindsey’s Rooms.
John Wood started his development of Queen’s Square in 1728, finished in 1735. Wood followed this with Kingsmead Square & Beaufort Buildings & three streets. In 1739 he began a development in the curve of the Avon. North Parade & South Parade were part of this development, behind the Abbey. By the time of his death in 1754 Wood had designed the Circus, which was built by his son John Wood the younger and completed in 1758.

Royal Crescent – source Wikimedia Commons
In 1771, the same year as the new Assembly Rooms were completed, Royal Crescent was being finished. At the end of Brock Street, which leads off the Circus, it was designed by John Wood the younger, as an integral part of the Upper Town, with splendid views across the town & valley.
Pulteney Bridge, built by Sir Richard Pulteney, was built between 1769 & 1774. The far side of the river was open land, but Sir Richard’s bridge led to his Bathwick estate centring on Great Pulteney Street & Laura Place. The bridge was based on the design of the Ponte Vecchio & is bordered by shops on either side.
The new Pump Room, including the baths complex, was finished in 1796 by John Palmer, as the city was declining in popularity. They replaced the Pump Room built in 1706 by local builder John Harvey.

The depression of 1793 caused a crash in Bath’s popularity, as banks failed & businesses ran out of capital. The attractions of sea bathing, as practised by the Royal Family, brought seaside towns like Weymouth to public attention. The Prince of Wales built his Royal pavilion in what was a small fishing village called Brighthelmstone & the re-named Brighton became somewhere to spend the summer season.
In 1814 rich visitors started flocking to enjoy the pleasures of abroad, interrupted for only a short time by the escape of Napoleon from Elba. The wealthy British had been forced to holiday at home by a French blockade starting in 1793. Now only the unfashionable were staying at home .
Bath today
Much of Regency Bath was destroyed in the 1960’s & soulless buildings replaced the Georgian classical houses. It is fortunate that some of the battles for Bath’s heritage were won, leaving Bath a World Heritage Site.
Bath today is a thriving tourist town & host to, not only Bath University founded in 1966 by Royal Charter, but also the much newer Bath Spa University founded in 2005. The Assembly Rooms now house a Museum of Costume & the Pump Room & Roman Baths are the heart of the tourist industry.
The mineral baths were closed in 1978 as the water became infected with amoebic protozoa, which lead to amoebic meningitis, causing the tragic death of a young girl. In the late 1990s funding was given by the Millennium Commission to re-create a spa in Bath, using the mineral rich waters that gave rise to the Roman complex.
Bibliography
The City of Bath – Barry Cunliffe, Alan Sutton 1986
AA Book of British Towns Drive Publications 1982
The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles translated by Anne Savage Colour Library Books 1995

All photographs unless otherwise attributed courtesy of JD Lashbrook