Walking Through Mayfairby guest blogger Diane Farr

I began writing Regencies long before the advent of Google Earth. It seems almost quaint, now, to think of relying on paper maps to get a sense of setting, but that’s what we used to do. I was thrilled to discover Darton's New Plan Of The Cities Of London, & Westminster, & Borough Of Southwark, 1817 online when I began writing my first book, The Nobody, and spent countless hours poring over it. The Nobody was set in the spring of 1818 so this, of all maps, was pure gold.

Of course, one of the reasons why it took countless hours to study the map was that I had a dial-up connection to the internet. Each view of http://archivemaps.com/darton1817/darton.htm took between six and ten minutes to load. But it was well worth it, and I waited patiently as each fragment of street slowly materialized on my screen, spellbound as Regency London spread itself before my fascinated gaze.

Based on the meticulous drawings I perused, I set my country-bred heroine’s aunt in Half Moon Street (easy walk to Green Park!); sent her, while visiting said aunt, to a party in Audley Square; tempted her to ignore the conventions, bolt out of the party and walk home down Curzon Street; and taught her a lesson by having her rudely accosted somewhere near the corner of Curzon and Queen Streets.

Curzon Street

I visited Mayfair in my imagination so frequently that I knew it by heart—or thought I did. But I was unprepared for the emotions that hit me in London, after The Nobody was published, when I sought out Curzon Street and viewed the, er, scene of the crime. I imagine I felt very much like C.S. Lewis would have felt, strolling through Cair Paravel. Or L. Frank Baum, vacationing in Oz. Here I stood, in a place I had invented – a place inhabited by my own fictional characters – and its pavement was just as firm beneath my feet as the sidewalks of Sacramento. With stars in my eyes and a camera in my hand, I dragged my unfortunate family (on foot) all over Mayfair. The sensation was indescribable. I was exploring a place every bit as fictional, to me, as Narnia or Neverland. And every bit as beloved.

Boodle's

Which turned out to be a good thing, because nothing was labeled. I eagerly sought out the gentlemen’s clubs I had visited in so many books, and was astonished—and then delighted—when they proved difficult to pin down. My American eyes expected to see signs above the doors or hanging from posts saying, for example, WHITE’S or BOODLE’S. But apparently, if you are White’s or Boodle’s, you feel that signage would be superfluous. The haughty attitude was obvious, and really quite perfect: “If you are a member, you know where we are. If you aren’t a member, our location is not your concern.”

White's

I feel very fortunate to have had a chance to tramp through Mayfair. Much has changed, naturally, but the bones of the Regency are still visible beneath its 21st century skin.

Diane Farr is an award-winning author of traditional Regency romances and Regency-set historicals. Her latest venture is something different: Wicked Cool, a fast, fun read suitable for teens--and everyone else, she hopes. You can join her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dianefarrpage or follow her on Twitter at @DianeFarr.

The Summer Art Exhibitions of 1811from The Literary Panorama & Annual Register

In July of 1811, as during the other summers of the Regency, was notable for art exhibitions. The Royal Academy, the British Institution, the Society of Painters in Water Colours, and the Associated Painters in Water Colours all held their individual shows. And the critics were out in force.

Posterity and the intervening two hundred years have determined which of the painters of the Regency are now considered great artists. But the opinions of the time are fascinating, and no less pointed than are today's critical remarks.

The Summer View - Royal Academy - 1800

The Royal Academy's exhibition is notable, according to The Literary Panorama, for having removed 'for sale' notations from the catalogue of the exhibit. It is feared the artists will suffer because of it. Chief among the artists discussed by The Literary Panorama is Benajamin West. He exhibited at least four pictures in the exhibition, and was too well known and admired to be seriously criticized. Nevertheless the reviewer does comment acidly:

- on West's Christ Healing the Sick in the Temple "Why must he [West] adopt the nonsensical, traditionary colours of Christ's dress; always red and blue?"

- on West's Death of Lord Nelson "We should also have recommended a more careful portrait of his Lordship's person. He will now be thought by posterity a taller man than he really was."

Benjamin West 'Death of Lord Nelson'

Of another famous artist, the reviewer tartly states "Mr. Fuseli continues to amuse himself with Ghosts and Spectres."

Henry Fuseli - Allegory of Vanity

Of the landscapes exhibited, the writers comments "...they may be very correct as to resemblance; but not all of them are excellent as pictures." The Portraits he dismisses with "...we have seen a better shew[sic] of heads..."

The British Institution 

The critic views the exhibition at the British Institution more favourably, and he wonders if the pictures are more select because of the absence of portraits. Nevertheless, his comments are stringent.

- "Hilton's Entombing of Christ, has the fault of resembling the compositions of the old Italian masters: his Christ also, is rather fifty than thirty years of age..."

- "Hall's Haemon and Antigone, is a good attempt...but why dabble the lights about, like scattered grapes..."

The Society of Painters in Water Colours held their exhibition at Spring Gardens in 1811, and our critic was there also. He says "we passed our time so pleasant in this assemblage, as to forget the hour of the day and the calls of appetite". Nevertheless he is trenchant when necessary:

- "Mr. Heaphy might chuse[sic]better subjects."

Left is Lord Palmerston (1802) by Thomas Heaphy
One of his better subjects?

The Associated Painters in Water Colours exhibited in Bond Street that year, and though our critic enjoyed the landscapes presented, he was less than complimentary about the other works presented.

"If any proof were necessary of the difficulty of managing figures, especially naked, and classical or poetical figures, in water colours, we should appeal to the judgment of any practised eye on performances in this exhibition..."

The art critic from The Literary Panorama had, it seems, a wonderful July in 1811. He left a fascinating legacy in his column in the journal; I wish we knew his name...

Next week, Diane Farr will be visiting to talk about her walk through Mayfair, and her love of Regency London. Diane is an award-winning author of traditional Regency romances and Regency-set historicals. You can join her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/dianefarrpage or follow her on Twitter at @DianeFarr.


'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

The Prince Regent's Party Planner

No, I don't know who the Prince Regent's party planner was! But I did get thinking about the immense amount of staff it must have taken to put on one of his entertainments. Here, for example, is one of his parties as reported in the Edinburgh Annual Register--July 1, 1813:

"Last night the Prince Regent gave a ball and supper to a numerous and splendid party. By the heavy and incessant rain which fell during the day, considerable damage was done to the tents erected on the lawn at Carlton-house, and it was feared they could not be used; however, the preparations went on. The entrance to these temporary erections was from the supper-rooms, along a temporary passage about sixty yards in length, boarded, and covered in with canvas, lined with green glaze cotton, decorated with artificial flowers, and the whole illuminated by chandeliers at proper intervals. The tents were arranged on each side of this passage or promenade, and their entrances were hung with curtains, festooned with artificial flowers. The tents were eighteen in all, and supper was to be laid in each of them for twenty-eight persons. At the extremity of the promenade was the Prince Regent's tent, which was lined with light printed cotton, and the centre pole ornamented with artificial flowers.

About nine o'clock, the Queen and the Princesses proceeded in their chairs from the Queen's Palace to Carlton-house. The company began to arrive after this in great numbers."

That is over five hundred sitting down to dinner. The organization boggles the mind. Who was the overseer of all the details? Every aspect must have had a 'sub-contractor'. Secretaries for the invitations, and the menus. Designers to organize the set-up and the decorations. Tradesmen to execute the designs. And the suppliers--of cotton, canvas, tents, artificial flowers, etc. All wondering if they would be paid, and when!

And then there was the meal--cooks, under-cooks, confectioners, right down to the scullery maids. I wonder how many hours it took to wash the dishes after such an event, and who over-saw the work. And what about the major-domo, the butler, the foot-men, and the maids who made the company comfortable and saw to their every need. It needed a master-mind to orchestrate all these details.

'A Squeeze at Carlton House'

The Prince Regent's Fete held June 20, 1811 was an even more extravagant party--some 3,000 guests accommodated at Carlton-house, including French royalty as well as English.

"The full band of the Guards, in their state-uniforms, play in the court-yard various martial airs."

"The ball-room floors were chalked in beauitufl arabesque devices."

"The hall was adorned with a variety of shrubs, and an additional number of large lanthorns and patent-lamps."

"The gold-room shone with unequalled spelndour; the ceiling and walls here are painted delicately, on a ground of gold."

The Golden Drawing Room at Carlton House

This was the event at which "...there was a meandering stream to the bottom of the table, bordered with green banks...It contained also a number of gold and silver fish." Who designed this? Who wrung his/her hands when the fish died and floated belly-up among the decorations? I am indebted to The Literary Panorama and Annual Register for 1811 for an account of this 'fete', and I was charmed to read the following at the end of the account:

"Every praise is due to the superior officers of the household;--also to several noblemen, military officers, and other friends in the confidence of H.R.H. for all possible accommodation..."

Even the military reviews held by the Prince Regent showed a similar extravagance and must have required the use of an 'army' of subordinates to design and orchestrate the business. One such event was held on Wimbledon Common, June 10, 1811. There were 20,000 troops on parade, and it was estimated "200,000 persons on the ground".  Much of the organization would have been down to the military for this event, but

"The Regent was also attended by a vast retinue, and was mounted on a beautiful grey charger, richly caparisoned; he was dressed in a full suit of General's regimentals, with the order of the garter, and a diamond star."

This is a Hyde Park review of 1814

It all required planning, and it all required staff. So here's to the Prince Regent's talented and, no doubt, long- suffering party planners. By all accounts they did a splendid job with spectacle after spectacle. I hope they got thanked--and I do hope they received their wages!

'Til next time,

Lesley-Anne

Sources: The Literary Panorama and Annual Register 1811 The Edinburgh Annual Register 1813
both free downloads from Google Books