Author: Louisa Cornell

by Louisa Cornell

Having covered the all-important drawing room and the equally vital kitchen areas of your average Regency era English country house, I thought it imperative we visit… The Necessary. Anyone who has read their British history knows this era was on the cusp of modernity in many areas. Plumbing was one of them. Sort of. For those who write and even those who read Regency era romance I offer a brief primer on where your hero or heroine might go… to Go.

The Water Closet or WC – Nicest of our options.

By way of introduction, there was actually a flushing toilet in Britain as early as 1591. John Harington, godson of Queen Elizabeth I, invented and installed the first water closet in his own home. He called his new invention Ajax and even wrote a book describing how it was built and how it functioned. A pan had an opening at its bottom closed by a leather faced valve. A system of handles, levers and weight poured the water from the cistern and opened the valve.

It didn’t really catch on, but by 1775 Alexander Cummings took a patent for his flushing closet which was very similar to Ajax. The main drawback in Ajax was the water seepage through the primitive valve. In 1777, Samuel Prosser used a ball valve to stop the seepage of water from the tank. This was the prototype for the water closets seen in some Regency era stately homes and London townhouses.

Some of the problems with this facility were –

1. There tended to be only one in each house. Large house, one water closet, cold dark nights. Take a good candle, warm slippers, and do not wait until the last minute!
2. Only in the wealthiest and most modern-thinking houses would the water closet be found on the floor with the family bedchambers. So, marry really well or… See Number 1 above.
3. The most logical location for the water closet would be on the ground floor at the back of the house where water was already being pumped inside aka the kitchens. Which means one ran the risk of running into or even tripping over sleeping servants on your way to the water closet.
4. Negotiating a wooden toilet seat, in the dark, in homes where rat catchers were employed to keep the vermin population in check. Do not skimp on paying either the rat catcher or the estate carpenter. Just saying.

The advantages were –

1. One didn’t have to leave the house.
2. The maid didn’t have to empty it every time it was used.
3. Some of them worked well enough to completely eliminate the smell and possibility of disease from the house.

The Chamber Pot – Great for your Heroine, Not so great for her maid!

A chamber pot was a bowl or container and could be as fancy or as basic as the owner deemed necessary. Some resembled black iron cook pots with a lid. Others were beautifully decorated porcelain vessels, often matching the decor of the bedchamber or the pitcher and bowl on the bedchamber washstand. It is safe to say a chamber pot might be found in every bedchamber in every stately home and town house in England during the Regency era. I daresay even servants had chamber pots in their bedchambers. Why wouldn’t they? They certainly had enough experience emptying them.

As the name denotes, a chamber pot might be found in any sort of chamber. The French were horrified to discover that British men kept a chamber pot in the dining room so as not to interrupt their after dinner brandy and cigars with a trip to the privy or water closet. Yes, you heard me correctly. A chamber pot. In the dining room. It might be stored behind a screen or even in a cabinet of the sideboard. And apparently gentlemen had no compunction about pulling the chamber pot out and using it whilst their fellow gentlemen watched. Frat boys have been around considerably longer than we knew.

For the ladies, during most social events a withdrawing room was designated. This was not a permanent fixture in a home, although some particularly busy homes might make it so. Perhaps a small parlor or a room not in constant use by the family would be set up with a screen and a chamber pot, chairs or comfortable divans for ladies to rest away from the party, a wash stand equipped with a pitcher of water and a bowl in which to wash one’s hands and face, along with towels and face cloths. A full length mirror and the talents of a maid who could repair a torn hem or flounce might also be offered. A vanity with cosmetics and a maid who excelled at dressing hair might be included. Of course there would be a maid whose job it was to empty the chamber pot and clean it so the next lady might use it. As far as all extant sources state, using the chamber pot was not a spectator sport for the ladies. Of course, ladies had the advantage of not having to remove any clothing in order to use the chamber pot. During the Regency era ladies did not wear the sort of confining panties or drawers we do today. Only loose women wore drawers, which means French women did it first. Wicked girls!

When in the actual bedchamber, chamber pots might be kept under the bed, behind a screen or even hidden in a sort of cabinet. They might be installed in a sort of toilet chair in a dressing room as well. No matter where they were stored, it was the duty of a maid to empty said chamber pot and return it clean to be used again.

          

 

 

 

                  

 

Ladies were even afforded a more portable option for when they traveled to venues at which a withdrawing room might not be made available – the bourdaloue.

For an informative and fun article on the bourdaloue please check out this link.

There were advantages and disadvantages to the use of a chamber pot.

Advantages –

1. One did not have to leave the room, let alone the house at night to use it.
2. One might use it without alerting the entire house, let alone a ballroom full of guests one was using it.
3. A maid emptied it outside of the house, thus ridding the house of any smell or possibility of disease.

Disadvantages –

1. It might be in one’s chamber a while before it was emptied.

2. Maneuvering to use it might be problematic.

3. If one was a maid or footman working in one of these homes… do I really need to explain that disadvantage?

The Privy – You Might Be a Regency Redneck If… Oh! Wrong Post!

By the early 19th century, before the advent of sewer systems, each London house and most country houses would have what was called a ‘cesspool,’ a pit about four feet wide and six feet deep, above which the home’s privy was located. Liquid waste would be absorbed back into the soil at the bottom of the hole, but solid waste had to removed by the night soil man, who would come around at night (opening a cesspool during the day was illegal, as the smell was considered to be too horrifying) and climb down into the cesspool to shovel out the accumulated muck. Rest assured these cesspools probably accumulated their fair share of other household rubbish as well. More than one murder was discovered when someone bent to the task of removing solid waste from the cesspool. Shudder.

The privy was a fixed out house with no water supply or drain and usually located some distance away from the house. A fixed wooden seat with a rounded hole was placed directly over the cesspit. Occasionally privies were attached to the side of a building, projecting out from a top floor, or reached through on outdoor entry on the ground floor of a service wing. These were sometimes called garderobes, a leftover term from the medieval period. More often than not they were placed at some distance from the main house at the far end of a garden or yard.

The advantages to this arrangement were… let me think. Surely there was…

1. The privy was away from the house.
2. More often than not the owners paid for the services of the night soil man, thus the servants did not have to empty it. At least in the city. In the country, it is a safe bet there was some poor servant assigned to this task.

The disadvantages were –

1. It was away from the house. Long walk, no matter the weather or the time of night. Much more likely to encounter the sort of animals who prefer to occupy a privy.
2. Do we really need to list all of the disadvantages of using a privy?

There you have it. The name of the room we call a bathroom or restroom, or at least the various places and things one might use to accomplish the same purpose. Everyone who is perfectly happy to read or write about the Regency era, but has some reservations about actually living during the era, please raise your hand. You’re excused.

From  A Perfectly Unforgettable Christmas

“Miss Howard has the right of it. I haven’t any brothers or sisters to insult anymore. I have to make do with Redford,” Lucien said with a half-smile in the butler’s direction.

“I don’t have any either. Brothers or sisters, I mean. And my Papa is dead so I won’t ever have any.”

“My condolences.” Lucien bit into the biscuit. For some reason his belly had no difficulty with the gingery concoction. Perhaps Bonaparte was onto something.

“I think I should like to be your doxie,” the angelic little girl declared.

Lucien choked down an entire biscuit and reached for his tea.

“Oh, dear,” Redford muttered.

Oh dear?

His butler nodded repeatedly in the direction of the French windows, rather like a seizing chicken. The mysteriously opened French windows. The windows in which a horrified Lady McAlasdair now stood giving Lucien a glare of reproach so powerful as to turn him to a pillar of salt should he remain under it for long. Lucien lurched to his feet. A lightning bolt of pain shot up his leg. He grasped the mantel to keep his feet.

“Lady McAlasdair.” He executed a shallow bow. “Would you care for some tea?”

“I should like to know, Lord Debenwood, precisely what you have been telling my daughter.” Never had he seen a lady lovelier. Or more deadly.

“I asked Lord Debenwood what a doxie is and he told me, Mama.” Miss Lily dragged her cloak-clad mother to the footstool and indicated she should sit. To his astonishment, she did. Then again, the child had managed to persuade him to take tea with her, a doll, and a dog.

“And what made you ask his lordship such a question?” She stroked her daughter’s hair and all the while accused Lucien with her eyes.

“You and Miss Howard wouldn’t tell me. I came over here to thank Lord Debenwood for my gift and to bring him some of Mrs. McGillicutty’s biscuits. He said I could ask him anything.” She sent Lucien a dazzling smile. He hated to think of the men of London once she reached her mother’s age. They didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh, he did, did he?”

For a man who had given up on feeling anything years ago, Lucien found himself aroused and indignant at the same time. She raised an eyebrow. A dare if ever he saw one.

“I made the offer after she plied me with biscuits and had already asked me every question imaginable. I didn’t see the harm in one more.” He offered a Gaelic shrug, only because he suspected it might annoy her. It did.

“One more? Biscuit or question?” She spied the child’s coat and hat on the blanket chest at the foot of the bed and fairly shot up from the footstool to fetch them.

“Both.”

“Why on earth would you answer such a question?” She wrestled her daughter into the coat and settled the wool hat on her head.

His leg tortured him mercilessly. Only yesterday he’d have sat down throughout her visit and damned all gentleman’s manners and intruding neighbors to perdition. He wasn’t exactly certain what made him remain standing now. “I was endeavoring to be honest and truthful with the child.” He grinned in spite of the scolding scowl on Redford’s face.

She stopped fastening her daughter’s coat and slowly crossed the room to stand close enough to shake the snow off her cloak onto his bare feet. “You are endeavoring to be a horse’s arse. And succeeding. Admirably,” she muttered huskily between clenched teeth.

The rough timbre of her voice scraped across his skin with a pleasurable sort of pain. The pain brought about when coming from someplace very cold into someplace warmer than he’d ever imagined.

“Quite,” Redford affirmed quietly.

“Stow ‘em, Redford.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I don’t understand, Mama. Don’t you want me to be a doxie?” Seated on the blanket chest, Miss Lily stroked Bonaparte’s head. “I think it would be very nice.”

Redford began to clear the tea table. Lucien couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard the man mumble, “Stop talking.” Good advice. Too bad he’d never been very adept at taking the advice of others.

“What exactly did you tell my daughter?” Lady McAlasdair demanded.

“He said doxies are women who are paid to be nice to men who are lonely,” Lily offered before he could answer. “Some men aren’t good at making friends so they have to pay them. I think Lord Debenwood is lonely. That’s why he is so angry all the time. I should like to be his doxie, but he wouldn’t have to pay me. He’s already given me Miss Debenwood, and he lets me have Bonaparte during the day. I could be his doxie as a trade.”

Every time the child said doxie, Lady McAlasdair’s color deepened from pink, to pinker, to pinker still. Lucien wondered if the color was the same all over her body. He raised an eyebrow exactly as she had done. He’d put on a pair of buckskins under his dressing gown for the sake of his little female visitor. Lucien crossed his arms over his chest to draw the mother’s gaze to the vee of naked flesh where the garment gapped open.

“I am going to kill you later,” she promised.

“I look forward to it.”

 

The Sergeant’s Christmas Bride – Sergeant Jacob Burrows just wants a place to bed down for the night. He never expects to be confronted by a lady with a gun. Elizabeth FitzWalter intends to drive the stranger off her land, until she realizes he meets her most pressing need.

Home for Christmas – When Charity Fletcher receives a mysterious bequest—a house by the sea—she hopes to rebuild her life. Lord Gilbert Narron leases a seaside house to hide from his memories of war. Charity’s refuge is Gil’s bolt-hole… but what both are seeking is a home for their hearts.

A Memorable Christmas Season –The last thing Lady Roekirk expects at her Christmas party is a dead traitor in her parlor… or the Crown’s Spymaster helping her hide the body. Thirty years earlier, she’d been forced to wed another and Lord Keyminster became a spy. After this long, does their love stand a chance?

A Perfectly Unforgettable Christmas – Every day, Lucien Rollinsby endures a memory of Christmas Eve. Not even his lovely new neighbor can make him forget that horrible night five years ago. Caroline McAlasdair remembers that Christmas Eve, too. But if Lucien recalls her presence there, it will destroy their only chance at happiness forever.

Buy Links:   Amazon – http://a.co/4ogrKbC

Apple iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency/id1047951334?mt=11

Barns and Nobles – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/christmas-revels-ii-hannah-meredith/1122771468?ean=9781942470007

Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/christmas-revels-ii-four-regency-novellas

Print – https://www.createspace.com/5739761

 

Authors’ Biographies:

Hannah Meredith is, above all, a storyteller. She’s long been fascinated by the dreams that haunt the human heart and has an abiding interest in English history. This combination led her to write historical romance. Hannah is a member of RWA, the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers, and SFWA.

 

Anna D. Allen lives deep in the woods with too many books and not enough dogs. She holds a Bachelor of Science and a Master of Arts in Language and Literature. Her future plans include growing tomatoes and cleaning out the freezer. When not writing or reading, she can be found in the kitchen.

 

Kate Parker grew up reading her mother’s collection of mystery books by Christie, Sayers, and others. Now she can’t write a story without someone being murdered, and everyday items are studied for their lethal potential. It’s taken her years to convince her husband that she hasn’t poisoned dinner; that funny taste is because she just can’t cook.

 

Louisa Cornell is a retired opera singer living in LA (Lower Alabama) who cannot remember a time she wasn’t writing or telling stories. Anglophile, student of Regency England, historical romance writer— she escaped Walmart to write historical romance and hasn’t looked back. She is a member of RWA, Southern Magic RWA, and the Beau Monde Chapter of RWA.

 

Social Media Links:

Hannah – http://www.hannahmeredith.com

https://www.facebook.com/HannahMeredithAuthor

 

Anna – http://beket1.wix.com/annadallen

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anna-D-Allen/366546213501993

 

Kate – http://www.KateParkerbooks.com

https://www.facebook.com/Author.Kate.Parker/

 

Louisa – http://onelondonone.blogspot.com/

http://www.louisacornell.com/

https://twitter.com/LouisaCornell

https://www.facebook.com/RegencyWriterLouisaCornell

https://www.facebook.com/louisa.cornell

https://www.pinterest.com/louisacornell/

 

WHEN IT IS THE KITCHEN IN A REGENCY ERA HOME

When we think of a kitchen today, we think of a single room.

  No this is not my kitchen. Too few books on the counters and not enough dirty dishes. And there’s no dog trying to get into the fridge.

Historically, the words kitchen and kitchens were used interchangeably. The reason? In stately homes and even in townhouses in the wealthier areas of London, the space where food was prepared and where servants did a great deal of their work was divided into a number of rooms, a veritable village, and whilst each room had a work specific name, together they were all called the kitchens.

The kitchens in a stately home were generally located on the ground floor. However, in some homes they were actually located in a separate building with walkways or tunnels to the dining room in the main house. In town houses the kitchens consisted of fewer rooms and were located on the ground floor. A very few were actually located on a basement level and the food would be carried to the dining room and a few other public rooms on the ground floor.

The ideal kitchens were located far enough away from the family quarters to avoid the smells of cooking to offend, but close enough to allow the delivery of food whilst still hot. They were located off an entrance in order to facilitate the delivery of supplies and if possible close to the kitchen garden for easy access.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some things were the same whether the kitchens were in a London townhouse or a country stately home. The room actually called the kitchen was basically the same no matter the location. It was the central food preparation area. From here the Cook (Yes, Cook was the title and a proper noun. You prepare an eight course dinner for a party of 100 guests at the drop of a hat and you deserve a little capitalization!) or, in some houses, the Chef ruled her or his domain. The housekeeper and the butler ruled the house. The Cook or Chef ruled the kitchen and had charge of the kitchen maids, the scullery maids, and the pot boys.

Kitchens tended to be oblong. The window would be positioned to the left side of the range, and the kitchen dresser, where essential equipment was held, would stand close to the work table.

The main components of this area were the large kitchen work table, where most of the food preparation was done, and the ovens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another vital room in the kitchen village was the scullery. The proximity of the scullery to the kitchen was important. The two were located close together, in an area where both had ample natural light (to prevent mold,) but where one did not need to cross the kitchen to get to the scullery. Often the only entrance to the scullery was outside with a pass through to the kitchen. Keeping the two areas separate was vital so as not to contaminate prepared food with the soiled water. The scullery was usually located along an outside wall of the house to aid in the hauling of water and the flushing out of the drains.

Soiled water, you say? Yes! Because the scullery was primarily a wash area. Pots and pans and kitchen utensils were washed here. As was the family china, but not in the same sinks. Double stone sinks were used for most of the dishes. A copper sink was used for the china to prevent chipping. In some larger homes, with larger sculleries, there were boilers for the laundry to be boiled.

Some food preparation was done in this area, such as chopping vegetables, as they needed to be washed first. Hygiene was essential in order not to contaminate existing food. This meant constant hauling of fresh water, scrubbing, washing, and cleaning. The scullery floor, made of stone, was lower than the kitchen’s, which prevented water from flowing into the cooking areas. Dry goods were stashed well away from the scullery, which also had to be kept dry in order to prevent mold. To prevent standing in water all day long, raised latticed wood mats were placed by the sink for the scullery maid to stand upon.

 

 

 

 

 

The next stop on our tour of the kitchen village is the still room. The still room started out as a combination pharmacy and distillery. Prior to the nineteenth century most medicines were herbal and every woman in the house from the mistress to the lowliest maid might have the knowledge and the talent to create them. And many homes brewed their own beers and ales. When they did, it was done in the still room. By the mid-nineteenth century some of these activities continued, but the room was used primarily to preserve and juice all of the fruit harvested on the estate. This was the room where tea trays were prepared. There was also a hearth where a kettle was always on the boil for that emergency pot of tea.

 

 

 

 

 

An annex to the kitchens, but still considered part of the “village,” was the butler’s pantry. The butler’s pantry was traditionally used to store silver, serving pieces, and other kitchen related items. Because the silver was kept under lock and key in the butler’s pantry the butler would sometimes actually sleep in the pantry to guard against thievery. It was also an area where meals were staged as the different removes were delivered to be taken to the dining room. The butler sometimes had a pantry-maid whose job it was to dust and keep everything in order. Sometimes a butler’s pantry might have a sink in it for quick clean ups. Polishing the silver, however, was usually a task reserved for the butler.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few other rooms one might find in the “kitchen village” were :

A pastry room which is exactly what it sounds like. Some wealthier families might keep a pastry chef, as well as a chef. More likely this room was used by Cook and perhaps a kitchen maid she trained to create desserts for large events or even to create pastry dishes to be stored and used later. Cakes might be stored in this room.

A curing room used a fired clay sink lifted up on pavers and a slate tub to brine meat. The windows were kept needed to keep out flies. Yes, you really needed to know that little fact.

A dairy scullery was used to keep all of the utensils, molds, and cookware associated with the making of cheese, butter and other dairy products clean. The remains of these processes were tough to clean and a separate scullery was used to make certain flavors of other foods were not cooked into those used for dairy products, thus effecting the flavor of those products. It was also where dairy products might be cooked down and prepared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some kitchens might be adjacent to a cool room. It would contain a wood cupboard, an early refrigerator, which afforded food storage on one side with hatch doors for blocks of ice from the underground ice house on the other. This room was also used for preparing and hanging the hams and slabs of bacon that hung behind the ventilation slats above the door, while rails were used for hanging other salted meats. Other cabinets might have a pattern of holes in them to promote air circulation around certain food items in storage.

As you can see, a kitchen is not always a kitchen. And sometimes it takes a village to prepare His Grace’s dinner and see it served properly!

 

When it is in an English stately home, of course!

English stately homes were designed to include a great many rooms. Each room in these homes had a purpose. Some served useful purposes, some were strictly for show, some have modern day equivalents, and others have no equal at all. When visiting a stately home or even viewing photos of the rooms in these homes it is easy to wonder…

Why is this room a drawing room, but this room is a saloon?

If this is a sitting room then what is a parlor?

It can be quite confusing and many people think there isn’t a ha’pence worth of difference between them. Of course, there is! At least to a Regency England fanatic there is. Let me explain. (And, yes, this is just an excuse to look at photos of beautiful rooms in English stately homes. So shoot me! But not in the best parlor.)

In the United States, when one thinks of a saloon these are the sort of images that come to mind.

 

 

 

 

 

The second photo is simply a gratuitous image of Val Kilmer playing Doc Holliday. But you get the point. The American version is quite different from the English one.

That’s not a saloon. THIS is a saloon!

In considering the names for rooms in stately homes it is always helpful to discover the year(s) the house was built and the name of the designer or architect. The rooms of the first floor (not to be confused with the ground floor) of a stately home are often the most indicative of the era in which the home was built. In large 18th century stately homes the first floor consisted of a series or rooms opening into each other in an ongoing circular procession. There were no outside entrances to each room One had to enter the first room and cross it to get to the second room and so on.

The layouts of homes–particularly older houses for ancestral family seats would have been built along floor plans more common in the centuries before–would not necessarily have all rooms accessible from a common hallway or passage. Some rooms could be entered only from other rooms, connected by doorways throughout. (This is often notable in grand houses or even palaces such as Versailles.) Consider the time period of when a house was likely to have been constructed or added on to (newer wings on an older central structure could make for interesting quirks of differing architecture,) and the fashionable layouts popular at the times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The saloon, an older version of the French word salon was usually the largest and grandest room in the house. It might also be called the state room or great chamber. It was capable of hosting a large gathering, an exhibition, or even a ball. This was a remnant of the days when large homes such as these were in the hands of royalty or their relations. People would enter the home by way of the saloon or great chamber. One moved through the series of rooms after that based on one’s position in the homeowner’s retinue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Drawing Room Has Nothing to Do with Art

The term drawing room is derived from the 16th century terms withdrawing room or withdrawing chamber. In large 18th century English stately homes a withdrawing room was a room to which the owner of the house, his wife, or his distinguished guest who occupied a main suite of rooms in the house could withdraw for more privacy. It was usually off the saloon or great chamber and sometimes even led to a formal or state bedchamber. It was still considered a formal room in which to greet and spend time with visitors. It was also the reception room for evening entertainments. A house might have more than one drawing room as in larger homes there might be several suites of rooms to which a drawing room was attached.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Drawing rooms came in three basic sizes and their uses were more often than not dictated by these sizes.

Small Size : 16 feet wide by 18 to 20 feet long

Good Size : 18 feet wide by 24 feet long

Superior Size : 20 feet wide by 30 feet long to 26 feet wide by 40 feet long

 

 

 

 

 

Essentially the drawing room was the grand standard for everything–sit in there when one was At Home to receive callers in the morning (“morning” being anytime from breakfast [9-10am usually] to dinner time [3-6pm, depending on how fashionable one was – the later one was the more fashionable one was considered] and not necessarily literally 12am-11.59am,) and then to gather prior to dinner, then for the ladies to withdraw to after dinner, later to be joined by the gentlemen, where coffee and tea would also be served late in the evening. There might have been a musical instrument or card tables for entertainment, or one might simply have relied on conversation or reading.

Here is where it became a bit complicated. How many drawing rooms might a house have? It depended on the size of the house and how much the family might entertain. If one was rich and received many callers, one might have a morning room as well as one or two drawing rooms. In order to designate these rooms or to give servants direction the rooms might be called The Blue Drawing-Room or The West Drawing-Room or The Egyptian Drawing-Room, identified by the color of the decor, the location in the house, or the style of the decor.

A lady might have had a more intimate and personal sitting room, sometimes attached to her bedchamber suite, but she only received especially close friends there. A morning room could have been used for these calls, or the standard drawing-room. If a morning room was used, the drawing-room was then used in the evening for pre-dinner and after-dinner socializing and entertainment. For this the largest/fanciest drawing-room was used to make the best impression.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Come into my Sitting room… Morning room… Parlor,  said the Duchess to the Duke

The last rooms in this particular category were for the private use of family members. As I noted earlier, a lady might have a sitting room attached to her bedchamber suite or in a large country house she might have a sitting room or parlor for her own particular use. A sitting room, parlor, or morning room was more often than not used for the family to spend time together. The ladies of the house might gather to sew, embroider, read, and chat. The family might gather to discuss the day’s events or a family issue or simply to enjoy each others company. Whilst townhouses had most of the same rooms as one’s country house they were usually smaller in number and size. And whilst you would find these last three rooms in a country house they were more commonly found in townhouses. In the mid to late nineteenth century, with the rise of the moneyed middle class, these were the rooms more commonly used to entertain visitors and for intimate family gatherings in the smaller houses associated with merchants and their families.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there you have it! A little tour and brief primer on one specific set of rooms one might find in a Regency and/or Victorian era home. Was it an excuse to also look at photos of some lovely rooms whilst our friends Victoria Hinshaw and Kristine Hughes Patrone are touring the UK? Absolutely! Stay tuned for a look at another set of rooms soon!