Façades and derrières
ASIDE: If you’re a fan of Heyer’s novels, you probably already know that the word quiz relates to a quizzing glass, a single-lensed forerunner to our spectacles. A fashionable accessory typically worn around the neck on a riband, the quizzing glass mitigated defects in vision but also provided an effective means of discomfiting the object of one’s quizzical gaze.
Decorum first
The expectations for proper behavior in Bath society were originally codified by Richard “Beau” Nash, a noted dandy who became Bath’s Master of Ceremonies in the early 18th century. At a time when Bath was becoming a destination for fashionable visitors seeking to restore their health by taking the waters, Nash was the driving force behind many enhancements to the town. He raised money to improve the roads and encouraged the building of new, more commodious lodgings for seasonal visitors. He built a new Assembly House and ballroom where he threw magnificent public balls and other entertainments.
But Nash also vetted newcomers to determine whether they were worthy of joining the select “Company” of five hundred or so persons around whom Bath social life revolved. And he established rules governing social behavior at his public assemblies. Apparently, Beau Nash was the first to establish such rules, but his example was soon followed elsewhere, as the popularity of public assemblies grew.
I first learned about Bath’s social rules from Georgette Heyer’s Black Sheep, which is one of my favorites. In one passage, Bath resident Abigail Wendover explains to newcomer Miles Calverleigh the rules for assemblies laid out by Mr. James King — a successor to Beau Nash:
“I don’t recall that I ever visited Bath in the days of my youth, [he said,] so I rely on you to tell me just what are its rules and etiquette, as they concern persons desirous of entering society.” […]
“You will be able to judge for yourself, if you mean to attend the balls at the New Assembly Rooms. I am afraid there are no balls or concerts held at the Lower Rooms until November. You will find an agreeable, gay promenade, however, and I expect there will be some public lectures given there. Concerts are given every Wednesday evening at the New Rooms, and there is also the Harmonic Society. They sing catches and glees and meet at the White Hart — at least, they do during the season, but I am not perfectly sure…” […] “Not fond of music, sir? Oh, well, perhaps you have a taste for cards. There are two card rooms at the New Assembly Rooms. One of them is an octagon and generally much admired. But I ought to warn you that hazard is not allowed or any unlawful game. And you cannot play cards at all on Sundays.”
“You dismay me! What, by the way, are the unlawful games you speak of?”
“I don’t know,” she said frankly, “but that’s what it says in the rules. I expect it wouldn’t do to start a faro bank or anything of that nature.”
“I shouldn’t wonder at it if you were right,” he agreed with the utmost gravity. “And how do I gain admittance to this establishment?”
“Oh, you write your name in Mr. King’s book, if you wish to become a subscriber. He is the M.C., and the book is kept at the Pump Room. Dress balls are on Monday, card assemblies on Tuesday, and fancy balls on Thursday. The balls begin soon after seven o’clock and end punctually at eleven. Only country dances are permitted at the dress balls, but there are in general two cotillions danced at the fancy balls. Oh, and you pay sixpence for tea on admission.”
“And they say Bath is a slow place! You appear to be gay to dissipation! What happens, by the way, if eleven o’clock strikes in the middle of one of your country dances?”
She laughed. “The music stops. That’s in the rules, too.”
I couldn’t help wondering whether all these rules had something to do with Bath’s reputation as a stuffy town.
Palladian grandeur
Today, Bath is well known for its stately Palladian architecture. The city was transformed in the 18th century, largely through the vision and energy of architect John Wood the Elder — and with the support and encouragement of Beau Nash. Wood and Nash together, one could argue, were early gentrifiers, replacing medieval structures with buildings better suited to the illustrious visitors now flocking to Bath during its Season (October through May). Some of Wood’s most recognizable structures — like The Circus and The Royal Crescent — were actually built by his son, John Wood the Younger, based on his father’s designs.
DIGRESSION: In the 1995 film version of Jane Austen’s Persuasion, we hear the Misses Musgrove urging their parents to find lodgings in Bath “in a good situation… somewhere near the Circus.” And then, in one of the last scenes, Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth are seen strolling through the streets alongside jugglers and fire-breathers and other performers. So I was amused — and a bit chagrined — to discover that Bath’s famous Circus had neither clowns nor acrobats but was merely a stately and elegant set of town houses surrounding a small circular park. Were it not round, it would simply have been a square!
Ironically, as tour guide Diana pointed out, Bath’s elegant street-facing façades often contrast with backsides built of irregular blocks of “rubble” — random pieces glued together with mortar. Apparently this building practice was sometimes referred to derisively as “Queen Anne in front and Mary Ann in back”! More support for the contention that in Bath appearances were paramount.Please don’t eat the pineapples!
No. 1 Royal Crescent is a town house situated in one of the most exclusive habitations in Bath. Now a museum, the house is decorated and furnished as it might have been in the late 18th century. Knowledgeable and patient docents are available in every room to answer visitors’ questions — and I had lots! I was especially interested in what I learned in the dining room, which was set for the dessert course.
Dessert provided a splendid opportunity for displaying one’s wealth and consequence. This example featured numerous elegant but unpalatable dishes designed to impress, including molded pâtes de fruits and marzipans, jellies made of calves’ foot gelatin, and flummeries. These latter were ornate molded desserts made by soaking and boiling oats, which apparently congealed as they cooled (rather like cold porridge, I imagine — ugh!). The docent emphasized that everything looked much better than it tasted, which I can well believe. Sugar sculptures and pineapples also adorned the table, both of which were very expensive but could be reused for later dinners. I was told that ladies typically partook only sparingly of dessert before heading to the withdrawing room upstairs, leaving the gentlemen to their port. Wise women!
DIGRESSION: An additional touch of verisimilitude was added to this dining room by a decorative screen in one corner. It concealed a chamber pot, the docent told me, to allow gentlemen to relieve themselves without leaving the room! More chamber pots were strategically placed in other rooms throughout the house. I was further informed that ladies might simply squat over one of these vessels when nature called, their voluminous skirts providing a (very) small measure of privacy. I have a hard time imagining this but, I suppose, with no indoor plumbing, they managed as best they could. Oddly enough, Heyer never mentions this inconvenience!
A blessing on all those who dare to be authentically themselves,
allowing their façades to reflect their true natures.
May we, too, learn to defy the censure of the Quizzes.
Connections
- Georgette Heyer on Audible
- Georgette Heyer: Black Sheep
- Quizzing glasses (quizzers)
- Halcyon Evans: Richard “Beau” Nash: The Original Beau
- Phil Carradice: Beau Nash, the Welsh dandy (BBC Wales History blog)
- Allison Thompson: The Rules of the Assembly: Dancing at Bath and Other Spas in the Eighteenth Century (In Persuasions Online, vol. 31, no. 1, Winter 2010)
- John Wood the Elder
- Encyclopedia Britannica: John Wood the Elder
- Roger Ebert reviews Persuasion (1995)
- No. 1 Royal Crescent
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