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Here are some more of my photos of Bath taken during my recent trip. I love just wandering around Bath, looking at everything, and taking pictures.

Of course, as Jane Austen pointed out, it does rain a lot in Bath. (Then again, it rains a lot everywhere in England. I have always thought it a bit odd that Austen seemed to believe it rained more in Bath than anywhere else. I suppose her general unhappiness in Bath may have something to do with it. Or perhaps it just happened to rain more when she was there? Or perhaps when she was indoors at Bath, she could hear the rain on the pavements much more than she could hear the rain in the countryside.)

As I was going to say, I just walk around Bath, wait for a break in the rain if it’s rainy, and wait for a break in the cars. Then I wait longer, hoping for a break in both at the same time. Or for blue sky. But in spite of all these difficulties, I’ve gotten a lot of lovely Bath pictures over the years! Here’s a “chair” — carriages weren’t very suitable for Bath’s hilly roads, so you would take a chair (carried by chairmen) up and down the hills, to the Baths, to the Pump Room, to the Assembly Rooms, etc. The fares were set and published, so the chairmen couldn’t cheat you!

Here we have the interior of the Pump Room. Just lovely. Here Catherine Morland strolled arm in arm with Isabella Thorpe. And of course, to be truly healthy, one would drink the mineral water here. (Nowadays one can have a cream tea instead. Much less healthful, I fear, but much more enjoyable.)

Here’s the outside of the Pump Room — the area here was known as the Pump Room Yard. It’s bordered by the Abbey Church (quite lovely, and much restored since the Regency, when it wasn’t nearly as nice as it is now) and right in the middle of everything — now nearly as much as it was two hundred years ago — at least for visitors to Bath!

And how could I forget a picture of Pulteney Bridge, surely one of the prettiest sights in Bath? A bird happened to fly through the picture as I was taking it — you may be able to make him out if you look closely.

Ah, Bath. What would Mr. Tilney ever do without you? You supply him such a variety of people to make witty remarks about. And you supply Mrs. Allen with a wonderful choice of fabrics. And Catherine Morland with more books than she could imagine.

Ah, Bath!

Cara

Posted in Jane Austen, Research | Tagged , | 1 Reply

Greetings, O Patrons of the Regency! It is I, once again — Bertram St. James, Exquisite as ever, here to grace you with my Presence.

In case there are Newcomers to this Blog, I shall merely say that not long ago I was a Cheerful and Decorative denizen of the year 1811, but by some accident of Natural (or Supernatural) Philosophy, found myself in your current age. So now I am trying to “Fit In” in this Velocitudinous Era.

Once I made the acquaintance of the Tele Vision, I spent much time studying it. But now that the Tele Vision has cruelly begun showing the same thing that it showed in February, I have turned to the Cinema instead.

Here, for your Delectation, are my opinions on some “Movies” that I have seen.

First, I saw a Movie about fashion. Modern Fashion is quite ugly. I do not understand it at all. However, I am glad that the characters in this Movie learned that Fashion is indeed quite important. (I could not bear to face an existence without it.) But what these characters fail to understand is that it is also important for Fashion to be Aesthetically Pleasing.

One thing puzzled me, though…the white-haired lady in this movie strongly reminds me of Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, who is Not my favorite person. Mrs. D-B has ghastly taste in handkerchiefs, and she once failed to invite me to a dinner-party I very much wished to attend. And her manner? I shudder just thinking of it.

But on to the next Movie! I confess I did not understand Super Man in the least. Is he an American God of some sort? If so, he really should put some clothes on. I grew quite embarrassed watching him. True, were he wrestling or boxing or swimming, he might be guilty merely of atrocious colour-choices — but he larks about in front of ladies and children and editors in his underthings — his Blue And Red underthings! I feel faint merely thinking about it.

One thing I will say in his favour, though — his hair is divine. Never a lock out of place. I do wish I had his hair. Mine never will hold a curl properly.

At length, I saw the Movie entitled “Pirates of the Something or Other, Dead Something Something.” (I detest long titles. Can never recall them. Shakespeare had that fault — all I can ever remember was that I once saw Kemble in “The History of King –” and then my memory fails me — some king or other — dashed if I can ever remember which one. There was a lot of killing, and far too much talking — does anyone know which play that was?)

Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yes. I saw that Pirate Movie thing. Very interesting. Some of the folk were wearing actual clothing. And hats. I like hats. Don’t know why you modern lot never wear them. Unless you are in a “Musical Video” wearing many chains.

Oh, goodness, what was I saying? Pirates. Right. Don’t understand why the Ladies find that Sparrow character attractive. He’s quite a mess. His hair is barbaric — don’t supposed he’s combed it since he was breeched. And his teeth! No, it’s utterly beyond me. If he were on my doorstep, I’d have my man send him on his way right enough. How can you ladies tolerate him? Please explain. I do wish I understood it.

That Turner fellow is slightly better. But not much. Handsome enough, I suppose, but far too dirty. And both of them need fencing lessons. Sloppy footwork, no style at all.

I would much appreciate it if any of you could solve for me any of the following conundrums :

Why do the ladies like these Turner and Sparrow characters?

Why don’t modern folk wear hats?

Why doesn’t Super Man put some clothes on?

Who is Super Man’s hairdresser? And is he taking new clients?

Until I learn the answers to these, I will remain, as always,

Yours Truly,

Bertie the Beau

As you might have guessed, I have figured out how to upload pictures from my new digital camera to the computer. Here are some pics from my recent trip to England — houses in Lavenham, Suffolk. I love the colors!!! I’ve never been a fan of the greenish-brown brick that so many English houses have, so I just adore all the colors in Suffolk.

And then the half timbering — there’s SO much in Lavenham that it’s amazing. It’s really like going back in time — except for all the cars, of course. 🙂 Though to be correct, I should mention that during my trip in Lavenham I learned that “half-timbered” is not the general term for these buildings — actually, “half-timbered” refers to the buildings in which the timbers are so wide that half of each wall is wood. (So most of the buildings people refer to as “half-timbered” aren’t. Perhaps they’re quarter-timbered? 32 percent timbered? 0.2119 timbered?)

Ahem. Sorry about that.

During the Middle Ages, Lavenham was a prosperous wool town. The wealthy merchants built these houses to live in — these were prestigious homes back then, and those with the most wood were the most admired. Even Queen Elizabeth visited Lavenham in 1578, bringing her whole court. (Wouldn’t that be nice, having folks like that drop in on you, expecting you to feed them all at your own great expense?)

By the end of the century, though, the wool trade in Lavenham started to decline (perhaps Elizabeth’s court ate too much?) Eventually, Lavenham turned into a quiet little byway, no longer important in the economy of the nation, or even the county. This meant that instead of tearing down all these beautiful timbered buildings to put up factories and more modern dwellings, most folks didn’t have the money for serious improvements or modernizations — so Lavenham is almost untouched. There are over three hundred buildings in Lavenham which have been listed as being of historical or architectural significance.

So: which of these would you want to be your house, or your Regency heroine’s house? (During the Georgian period, many of these houses were covered with brick — but our heroines, of course, can live in pink houses if we want.)

Pink, orange, red, yellow, beige, white — what color would you paint your house? Would you have white-ish timbers, as in the bottom photo here (which is apparently how they originally did them), or would you paint or stain them black or brown? Or would Lavenham just be too colorful a town for you?

Inquiring minds want to know!

Cara
Cara Kingwww.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — Booksellers’ Best Finalist for Best Regency of 2005!

In honor of the USA’s Independence Day, here are some of the funniest or most interesting period quotes I could find (mostly British) about the American Revolution:

Tom Paine, 1776: England, since the conquest, hath known some few good monarchs, but groaned beneath a much larger number of bad ones; yet no man in his senses can say that their claim under William the Conqueror is a very honorable one. A French bastard landing with an armed banditti, and establishing himself king of England against the consent of the natives, is in plain terms a very paltry rascally origin.


Lady Sarah Lennox, 1776: In short, I think there is no deciding who is precisely wrong and who is precisely right. Only two things, I think, won’t bear dispute: 1st, that those who cause most lives to be lost are the worst people; secondly, that the Bostonians, being chiefly Presbyterians and from the north of Ireland, are daily proved to be very, very bad people, being quarrelsome, discontented, hypocritical, enthusiastical, lying people.

Tom Paine, 1776: The colonies have manifested such a spirit of good order and obedience to continental government, as is sufficient to make every reasonable person easy and happy on that head.

Lady Sarah Lennox, 1776: I grow a greater rebel every day upon principle.

British Colonel Allan Maclean, 1777: Washington this whole winter never had more than 7,000 men in the Jersies, where we had 16,000, yet we have been tossed and kicked about most amazingly, all our forage parties constantly attacked, and tho’ we generally beat them we lost a great many good men.


James Boswell, writing to Samuel Johnson, 1778: What do you say to Taxation no Tyranny, now, after Lord North’s declaration, or confession, or whatever else his conciliatory speech should be called? I never differed from you in politicks but upon two points,–the Middlesex Election, and the Taxation of the Americans by the British Houses of Representatives. There is a charm in the word Parliament, so I avoid it. As I am a steady and a warm Tory, I regret that the King does not see it to be better for him to receive constitutional supplies from his American subjects by the voice of their own assemblies, where his Royal Person is represented, than through the medium of his British subjects.

Samuel Johnson, 1778: I am willing to love all mankind, except an American.


William Cowper, 1783: On the other hand, the Americans, who, if they had contented themselves with a struggle for lawful liberty, would have deserved applause, seem to me to have incurred the guilt of parricide, by renouncing their parent, by making her ruin their favorite object, and by associating themselves with their worst enemy, for the accomplishment of their purpose.

So, what are your reactions? Do you find Lady Sarah Lennox’s prejudice against Presbyterians as bizarre as I do? How about Johnson’s loathing for all Americans? Do you agree with Paine that William the Conqueror gave the English monarchy a “very paltry rascally origin”?

Happy Fourth of July to our American readers!

Cara
Cara Kingwww.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — Booksellers’ Best Finalist for Best Regency of 2005!

Posted in Research | Tagged | 5 Replies

Georgette Heyer. Frequently imitated, never duplicated. Yes, other authors have done wonderful things, splendid, hilarious, beautiful things — but these are their own wonderful things. No one can replicate Heyer’s touch, Heyer’s style, and the wise do not try.

So . . . what are your favorite Georgette Heyer books?

By the way, I love this question. I’ve heard at least twenty different novels listed on “favorites” lists. Some crop up a lot, some crop up rarely, but it seems no one’s list of Heyer favorites is exactly the same as anyone else’s.

Do you like her early, 18th-century books, full of masquerades and highwaymen and Scarlet Pimpernel-influenced escapades? These Old Shades, Powder and Patch, The Masqueraders, The Convenient Marriage? Or do you like just some of these, and not others?

Do you like her more serious romances? Her more farcical ones?

Do you prefer her alpha males (such as the heroes in Venetia and Regency Buck) or her more sensitive men (such as the heroes in Cotillion or The Foundling)?

Have you read Heyer’s mysteries? Her modern novels? If so, do you like them at all?

How about her more historical works, such as Royal Escape and The Conquerer? Or do you prefer to stick to her Georgian and Regency fiction?

So — what are your favorite Heyers? All opinions welcome!

Cara
Cara Kingwww.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — Booksellers’ Best Finalist for Best Regency of 2005!

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