Joana Starnes

Bath is, I think, one of the few places left in England – and perhaps the best of them all – where you can catch a real glimpse of Georgian Britain. Somehow, it had escaped the ravages of time and the 1970s ‘improvements’ and has remained a timeless capsule of yesteryear beauty. To me, Bath is a perfect indication of what Mr Darcy’s London might have looked like.

The beautiful illusion was encouraged by the fact that we were privileged to stay in an exquisite apartment on Great Pulteney Street, and by simply looking out of the large sash windows we were transported back in time. And then, as soon as we walked out, we would encounter people dressed in Regency apparel wandering hither and thither down the old paved streets.

The first time I went to the Bath festival and dressed up in costume I felt very self-conscious about it. I had come for the day, just for the Promenade, dressed in civvies, with my Regency finery in a very large bag. A kindly lady in a very posh boutique allowed me to use the changing cubicle, and I went inside in jeans and came out in a Regency frock and a hat fit for Mrs Bennet, with the clear feeling that I was slightly off my rocker.

Not so this year. If anything, after a while, as I was rushing to some event or another with several giggly ladies dressed for the part, it felt like we were the ones wearing the right apparel, and it was the people in modern-day clothes who were out of place. And the loveliest experience was to walk past people we’ve never met before, but with whom we instantly felt a sense of kinship, because they were dressed up too and they would smile and nod or greet us with a very proper curtsy.

I think it’s the sense of kinship that I value most of all. The real world is what it is, with its clear benefits in terms of sanitation and healthcare, but also lots of other aspects we could well do without. The people in the real world might look upon us with amusement or mild exasperation, but us Janeites understand each other. We know why we spend ages making a bonnet or sewing a Regency dress.

I certainly found this wonderful sense of kinship this year. The company was delightful. We gathered at the Assembly Rooms, we walked together in the Promenade, danced together just as they did in Jane Austen’s time (Oh, the dances!! I never knew I had so much of Lydia in me!) and played rounders on the Royal Crescent lawn.

Then we went home to play the funniest board game I’ve ever played. ‘Marrying Mr. Darcy’ is a must-have for every Janeite, even though our friends and family won’t be easily persuaded to play, and we might have to resort to Skype for a long-distance get-together. What can be more entertaining than a game where nothing is set in stone, and you can end up with an outcome as outrageous as Miss Bingley eloping with Wickham, Darcy marrying Lydia (shock-horror!) or Charlotte Lucas landing the dashing Captain Denny (hence the smug look on my face).

The week continued with a number of very informative talks: Crime and Punishment in Georgian Britain, Know your phaeton from your curricle (which told us everything we needed to know about roads, turnpikes, coaching inns as well as the vehicles owned by some Jane Austen characters, and what they said about them). Then there was a rather scary incursion into Regency medicine, courtesy of ‘Mr. James Buchan, the apothecary’. This is one of the characters played with such gusto by Mr. John White, Performance Historian, and I can’t recommend his performances enough! You might be so fortunate as to see them, he has appearances all over the UK and US, and they really are unmissable treats.

For the rest of the week there were Regency dress workshops, a taster session of Georgian puddings that included a surprisingly delicious one involving eggs, oranges and spinach, an extremely entertaining talk by John Mullan (don’t miss the chance to hear him too, if you can!), a very moving demonstration on the harp and an excellent performance of ‘Emma’, by Hotbuckle Productions.

I wish my time in Regency England would never end. But I missed my family – and there would be other years. I hope you’ll give it a go sometime, and that we might get together for the Jane Austen Bath Festival, to laugh and talk and party like it’s 1799.