Heaving was a custom on Easter Tuesday, sadly now lost, in which young women would visit a man’s rooms, lift him up in his chair, and insist that he kiss every one of them — or pay a fine.

(The chap at the door’s hoping it’s his turn next!)

The Easter Weekend wouldn’t be complete without Tumbling, en masse, down a hill in Greenwich Park. That’s what many Regents thought anyway, and no one captured the innocent (and not quite so innocent) fun of taking part better than the great Thomas Rowlandson.

The preternaturally intelligent Monkey in this print reads Who’s the Dupe?, by Hannah Cowley — 'one of the foremost playwrights of the late 18th century”. Cowley also wrote The Belle’s Stratagem, a sell out success in 1780, and still performed today.

She died #OnThisDay in 1809.

The word restaurant appeared in the 16th century & originally meant any food that restored, often a reviving soup.

By 1770 the term applied to establishments serving restorative foods such as Mr Horton's soup room in Cornhill, London offering fashionable dining in French style.

I travel quite often to Brighton by Train, and the experience resembles the one in this poster, in absolutely no way whatsoever...

(Whatever happened to the glamour of the Railways?)

Ah, for the good old days, when we weren’t bombarded with advertisements (1874, Alfred Concanen)

In this leapiest of years I have to wait until tomorrow to delight in the joys of Spring. Meanwhile, I’m redeeming the extra day trying to decipher Regency prints — such as this intriguing ‘LEAP YEAR Drawing Room’, featuring a very flamboyantly dressed George IV.

“Let’s go to the Hop”

Every time I think the Regents have hit peak Bonkers-ness they go and surpass themselves — in this case when hundreds of them descend on Clapham Common to enjoy, of all things, an exhibition of Hopping.

The Backstreet Regents are outraged at this swaggering Buck thinking that dropping a coin into a Beggar’s hat gives him free rein to do as he pleases — and in the middle of the day too! ('Men Traps are Laid Here', on the sign, indulges the Regents' love of saucy double entendres)

We used to pretend our bikes were horses when we were younger, but this would have really stepped up the game.

Could the bawdy 'Black Joke' lay claim to being the most popular song of the Georgian Century? Known by all: sung on street corners, in low Taverns and high Theatres, and everywhere that people gathered — it even pops up in Hogarth’s A Rake’s Progress (held by the woman SL).

Take a trip along the River Thames in 1800 from Chiswick Eyot to Hammersmith Bridge.
The engraving was made by artist William H Prior, born in Bloomsbury but lived most of his life in Masbro Road North. He was known for his depictions of London and its environs.

“On she came — such as I saw her in my dream”

A randy drunkard’s wishes all come true (and how!) in this print by the mischievous Thomas Rowlandson — playfully parodying the poetry, and subverting the sentiment, of Milton’s Paradise Lost.

Cupid’s getting some last-minute instruction, ahead of his big day today.

(Venus and Cupid, Pompeo Batoni : 1785)

The Royal Cobourg theatre, 'the most gorgeous and costly of any in London...gold, silver, brass and glass.' Where Joseph Cowell played 'Sponge' in 1820. Now the Old Vic. The Backstreet Regents A London Inheritance The Old Vic Association of Performing Arts Collections (APAC) visit theatres Secret London Victorian Web 8

“…under this collar,
I’ve got a large roller,
’Tis just like a huge German sausage”

Tippy Bob sings the praises of his own, erm, attributes — indulging the English theatre audiences' love of Pantomime and bawdy innuendo. What a Carry On!

A Billingsgate Fishwife brawls with a Frenchman, at a time of high enmity between the two Nations. The woman may well be fuelled by a tankard of Purl (as advertised above the door) — a fortifying Ale infused with Wormwood, and a favourite tipple of London’s labouring classes.

The Regents were known for their ardour, though at times it could burn too brightly !!

This image is based on an actual event (an 'Amorous Conflagration', according to the Bon Ton Magazine) in which a Love Nest shared by several prominent couples was accidentally set ablaze...

Regency Satirists were amused (as am I) by the fact that in legal parlance Adulterous Acts were referred to as ‘Criminal Conversations’. Here’s a selection of couples comically engaging in such ‘conversations’, from the great Thomas Rowlandson…

'Do you please to have your bed warm'd Sir?'

I'd never suggest you employ a Servant to warm your bed, but I will say that during the Regency a lot of people died from sleeping in damp beds. Travellers were advised to carry two large Hart skins to sleep between, just in case.