A day in the life of Eighteenth Century Bath

Trip to Bath Arrival at Bath
Thomas Rowlandson

In ‘Beau’ Nash’s day when a gentleman or lady arrived at Bath, as described by Oliver Goldsmith in 1762, they were welcomed by a peal of the Abbey bells. For this luxury people generally gave the bell ringers a gift of half a guinea or more, dependent on the person’s fortune, generosity or ostentation. Oliver Goldsmith comments on the disturbance this caused the sick, then says the ‘pleasure of knowing the name of every family that comes to town recompenses the inconvenience. Invalids are fond of news, and upon the first sound of the bells, every body sends out to enquire for whom they ring.’

Once the family’s arrival has been announced by the bells, the master of it would go to the public places ‘and subscribe two guineas at the assembly-houses towards the balls and music in the pump-house, for which he is entitled to three tickets every ball night. His next subscription is a crown, half a guinea, or a guinea, according to his rank and quality, for the liberty of walking in the private walks belonging to Simplon’s assembly-house, a crown or half a guinea is also given to the booksellers, for which the gentleman is to have what books he pleases to read at his lodgings. And at the coffee-house another subscription is taken for pen, ink and paper, for such letters as the subscriber shall write at it during his stay. The ladies too may subscribe to the booksellers, and to a house by the pump-room, for the advantage of reading the news, and for enjoying each other’s conversation.’

The Kings Bath from Comforts of Bath
Thomas Rowlandson 1798

Once a family was established the day was usually begun by bathing for an hour or so. Women were brought in a chair in the morning, dressed in their bathing clothes, and went into the water and given a small floating bowl by an attendant. The lady put a handkerchief, snuffbox and nosegay in this bowl and then traversed the baths, either alone or with a guide if she was new to Bath; until she’d amused herself fully and then she called for her chair and returned to her lodgings.

The Pump Room
Thomas Rowlandson

After bathing people immediately gathered in ‘general assembly’ at the pump-house, ‘some for pleasure and some to drink the hot waters’. To take the waters three glasses were drunk at intervals. And while people drank the waters and enjoyed the ‘conversation of the gay, the witty, or the forward’ a small band of musicians played to enliven the atmosphere.

The Pump Room, Abbey entrance

From the pump-house ladies sometimes withdrew to a female coffee-house before returning to their lodgings. While gentlemen withdrew to ‘their coffee-houses to read the papers, or converse on the news of the day, with a freedom and ease not to be found in the metropolis’.

The Public Breakfast, Comforts of Bath
Thomas Rowlandson 1798

Fashionable people ate public breakfasts at the assembly-houses, where they would invite acquaintances, and sometimes order private concerts. Or they might attend lectures on the arts and sciences, ‘which are frequently taught there in a pretty superficial manner, so as not to tease the understanding, while they afford the imagination some amusement’. The concerts were performed in the ballrooms, tickets a crown each. And concert breakfasts were sometimes held at the assembly-houses paid for by the gentlemen’s subscriptions. During these, ‘persons of rank and fortune’ might perform in the orchestra for the pleasure of joining the performers.

The Morning Ride, Comforts of Bath
Thomas Rowlandson 1798

Another morning diversion was to attend a morning service in the Abbey.

Bath Abbey

As Oliver Goldsmith says ‘Thus we have the tedious morning fairly over’. So what of the afternoon?

As noon approaches some people appear on ‘the parade and other public walks, where they continue to chat and amuse each other, till they have formed parties for the play, cards, or dancing for the evening’. While others divert themselves reading in the bookshops, or take the air, walking in town, riding on horseback or in carriages, or even walking into ‘the meadows round the town or, winding along the side of the river Avon, and the neighbouring canal’. Some more adventurous walkers even scaled ‘those romantic precipices that overhang the city’.

Company at Play, Comforts of Bath
Thomas Rowlandson 1798

For the dinner hour people returned from their various recreations and dined on ‘mutton, butter, fish, and fowl’ with ‘utmost elegance and plenty’. After dinner people met again at the pump-house, and then retired with companions to the walks and then to drink tea at the assembly-houses before the evening entertainments began.

The Pump Room

Evening entertainment included ‘balls, plays or visits’ A theatre was erected in 1705 by subscription and there was a public ball every Tuesday and Friday evening.

The evening’s balls began at six with minuets, as I have said in earlier blogs, and as master of Ceremonies Beau Nash insisted the first was danced by ‘two persons of the highest distinction present.’ When the minuet concluded, the lady was to return to her seat, and Mr Nash was to bring the gentleman a new partner. This ceremony was observed by every succeeding couple, every gentlemen obliged to dance with at least two ladies until the minuets were over. They lasted two hours. At eight the country dances began and ladies of quality, according to their rank stood up first. During the short interval at nine the gentlemen helped their partners to tea, before the amusements began again. And then at eleven, Beau Nash entered the ball-room and ordered the music to desist by lifting up his finger. After allowing time for people to ‘become cool’ the ladies were then escorted to their carriages.

And so a day in eighteenth century Bath‘yields a continued rotation of diversions.’ And ‘people of all ways of thinking, even from the libertine to the Methodist, have it in their power to complete the day with employments suited to their inclinations.’

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional love stories.

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It’s no good I can’t help another deviation to share some recently discovered old trees – Lord Byron may well have walked or ridden along this avenue.

Kingston Lacy Avenue

If you’ve read my early blogs I have spoken before of my passion for old trees, which may sound silly, and my daughter definitely thinks is silly, but when I see things like this avenue at Kingston Lacy I cannot help but be drawn into imagining who has walked past these trees before me, over the same soil. It’s funny because I don’t think about it in the same way when I walk through the house. Kingston Hall was completed in 1667 and it looks as though this avenue was planted then.

When these trees were perhaps ten years old, the Duke of Ormonde lived in Kingston Hall. He was close to King Charles II, having shared the King’s years of exile and was given his title on the King’s restoration. He was in his 70’s when he lived at Kingston Hall, and would have possibly arrived along this avenue, having lived a tumultuous life, in and out of favour in a back stabbing court and holding Ireland for the Crown in the Civil War. He must have had a lot to contemplate as he looked down upon the avenue from the windows of Kingston Hall in his last days.

Then there is the history of William John Bankes, a second son, born in 1786 (The gentleman who explored Egypt and brought home the obelisk). He later became heir and formed a lifelong friendship with Lord Byron, beginning in 1804, when they met at Trinity College,Cambridge. William competed with Byron for the attention and the hand of Annabella Millbanke. He had his own proposal rejected in 1812. Byron writes of him ‘He is very clever, very original and has a fund of information; he is also very good-natured, but he is not much of a flatterer…’ Annabella was clearly not interested in anything beyond perhaps encouraging his adulation and continued attention. ‘One of my smiles would encourage him, but I am niggardly in my glances.’

Of course Byron was not so lacking in flattery. All I have read of him and the letters he has written show a very intelligent man who was extremely capable of flirtation, manipulation and seduction. I would say, if he wished to, he knew how to charm people. We certainly know he had a gift with words. He married Annabella in 1815, after she fell for his fame following the publication of Childe Harold – she read a copy Byron gave to William and William loaned to her. Annabella wrote to Byron then, ‘I am afraid he will hear of us with pain, yet he cannot lose hope, for I never allowed it to exist’.

In an earlier post I showed this picture of the pelisse Annabella is believed to have worn on her departure for her honeymoon, following her marriage to Lord Byron, it is in the possession of the Fashion museum inBath.

I can only wonder if either Byron or Annabella travelled along this avenue, on foot, by horse or carriage. I think there are strong odds that Byron did, as his friendship with William Bankes lasted so many years even surviving his failed marriage to Annabella, though Byron had fled England after this.

Stourhead

Then there are my favourite trees from Stourhead, which out date the Georgian house by centuries, it is believed they may be a 1000 years old, which means they have stood along this entrance way since the medieval period. An army of knights may have ridden past here, escorting carts piled high with household belongs perhaps, as the families moved from residence to residence – their tack jangling, the sound of the horses hooves a low thunder and the bright colours of their clothing and heraldry tabards and banners fluttering in the breeze. Yes, I can imagine it. I have spoken of them before, but now I have a picture.

Old Wardour Yew Alley

My last find however was at Old Wardour, last week. This alley of yew trees was planted in 1730, along a surviving terrace from the second era of the ruins as an element of a ‘formal’ pleasure garden. The terraces had railings along their edge when established and steps. This one overlooked a bowling green, with the ruins as its backdrop. My imagination of course pictures the gentlemen who must have climbed the ruins and engraved their names walking along beside these trees, perhaps flattering a woman, Byronic style. And notably the greatest amount of graffiti is in the entrance facing the site of the bowling green which would match the date of this formal garden. Perhaps these were carved as they waited for their turn or watched a game of bowls.

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional love stories.

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