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Monday, June 23, 2014

Money in the Regency: What Did it Cost?



In Proper Conduct, the heroine spends a good deal of time worrying about money that is not there, particular after her father spends nearly 1,000 pounds on a horse.  Not an excessive sum to someone such as the Prince Regent, whose racing stud farm cost him 30,000 pounds a year.  But all these numbers seemed to need a bit perspective.

In the Regency...
- Four farthing made a penny.  (A pence.)
- Twelve pennies (or twelvepence) made a shilling.
- Five shillings made a crown.
- Twenty shillings made a pound.
- Twenty-one shillings made a guinea.

Coinage in use in the Regency included:
- gold for one, two, five and half-guinea coins
- silver for one, two, three, four, six penny (or pence), shilling and crown coins
- copper for half-pence and farthing coins

Two-penny coins were called tuppence. And there were all sorts of slang names for coins including a quid (pound), a bob (shilling), a goldfinch (guinea),

Due to a shortage of copper and silver coins in the late 1700's, firms began to use tokens to pay wages.  There was also a growth in payments by foreign coins.

The annual expenses of a great house could run between 5,000 and 6,000 pounds a year including housekeeping, repairs, stables, parklands, gardens, home farm costs, servants, and taxes.

Mrs. Whitney's  Boarding School for Young Ladies at Buckingham cost twelve guineas a year, and one guinea extra if tea and sugar were required to be served.

In Bath, one paid two guineas were paid for subscription balls, five shillings for concert tickets, and ten shillings sixpence for a subscription to the booksellers.

With an income of four hundred pounds a year, one could employ two maids, one groom and keep one horse in London.  On seven hundred a year, one could have one manservant, three maids and two horses.  For a thousand a year, one could have three female servants, a coachman, a footman, two carriages and a pair of horses in London.

There were three to four hundred families whose income was over 10,000 pounds a year, due to vast land holdings.

During the London season, the lease on house in the West End could cost as much as 1,000 pounds.

Anyone with a debt of twenty pounds or more could be sent to debtor's prison  (However, a member of Parliament could not be imprisoned while Parliament was sitting.)

The capital to secure an estate was approximately thirty times the desired income.

The Earl of Egremont saw a rise in income due to land rentals from 12,976 pounds in 1791 to 34,000 pounds in 1824.

In Somerset (where Proper Conduct is set) 30 acres for let went for 35 pounds per annum, with the tenant paying all taxes except land tax.

In 1801, a 100-acre estate in Sussex sold for 3,500 pounds.

In 1804, due to the silver shortage, the Bank of England issued light-weight token silver coins for one shilling, three shilling and six pence coins.

From 1811 to 1812, an estimated 250,000 people lived comfortably on more than seven hundred pounds a year each.  A half million shopkeepers made a hundred and fifty pounds a year each, two million artisans lived on the edge of poverty at 55 pounds per annum, and one and one half million laborers earned only 30 pounds a year each.

In 1813, a cow fetched about 15 pounds at the market, while a ewe went for 55 to 72 shillings.

In 1816, a new British one pound coin made of gold, the sovereign, began to be produced.                                                  

In 1820, 1,100 years after the first English silver pennies were minted, the last British silver pennies were minted.

Friday, June 6, 2014

Hatpins

by Donna Hatch
www.donnahatch.com

My latest foray into the research geekdom took me slightly out of the Regency Era, but since I love all kinds of old things, I decided to indulge in this new direction and share with you my latest discovery: hatpins.

To quote Wikipedia: A hatpin is a decorative and functional pin for holding a hat to the head, usually by the hair. In Western Culture, a hatpin is almost solely a female item and is often worn in a pair.

The description made me smile since I can't imagine anyone using a pin to fasten their hat to their head! Obviously, it attached to their hair :-)

In as early as the 1400’s, proper, and, I might add, probably only fairly wealthy ladies, used pins to secure their wimples and veils onto their heads. By the early 1800’s, ladies used them to keep their hats in place. Hatpins ranged in length from six to twelve inches and were made from a variety of metals including brass, copper, sterling silver, gold, or gold or silver wash, and often had a decorated head. Naturally, they had to be made by hand, which made them hard to find. In England, demand caused importers to bring hatpins from France. Apparently Parliament became alarmed at the threat to the delicate balance between import and export, so they passed a law restricting the import of pins to January 1st and 2nd. Supposedly ladies saved their money all year to have enough to purchase. Some believe this is the source of the term "pin money." Other sources claim pin money came from the beginning of each tax she supposedly used to pay for her pins. However, I have always held fast to the popular Regency belief that ladies spent pin money to pay for pins used to fasten their gowns together, since buttons and hooks weren’t as common as modern people believe. Since the pins were made of metal, non-stainless steel, they eventually rusted and had to be replaced.
Regardless, hatpins remained a popular and necessary accessory into the 1920's. Eventually in America, laws restricted the length of hat pins since they could be used as a deadly weapon so women had to cut them down to the maximum length.

Eventually, hatpins became mass produced, making them more readily available to the poorer classes with
very simple heads. Of course, the wealthy always had fun hatpin heads made from materials such as, according to the American Hatpin Society:

Carnival glass, rhinestones, hand blown molded glass, micro mosaic, or hand painted or transferred porcelain like the Japanese Satsuma. There were also hatpins made with ivory, emeralds, stone, amber, tortoise shell, jet, celluloid and other plastics, mother of pearl, and coral.

Hatpins spanned many styles including Baroque, Etruscan Revival, Greek Revival, Egyptian Revival, Oriental influence, Arts and Crafts, Art Nouveau and even Art Deco, before waning around WW1 when metals became scarce and hats got smaller.

I was horrified to find in the picture to the right, a hatpin made in the shape of a swastika. However, the hatpins in this pincushion show a good variety of the many different styles of hatpins available. Today, hatpins are collectible items and there is an American Hatpin Society and The Hat Pin Society of Great Britain for modern enthusiasts.

Now that I know of their existence, I think I’ll have to write a scene in my next Regency historical romance novel where my heroine uses a hatpin to defend herself from a bad guy.



Friday, May 30, 2014

London's Burlington Arcade


© Cheryl Bolen, 2014
Almost two hundred years after it was built, the Burlington Arcade still remains one of the most prestigious shopping areas in London. The upscale shopping promenade, which features arcades, bowed store fronts, and a glazed roof, opened on Piccadilly in 1819. The "mall" was to serve as prototype for its many imitators over the past two centuries.

 

Burlington Arcade is adjacent to Burlington House, which the 6th Duke of Devonshire sold to his uncle, Lord George Cavendish (1754-1834) in 1815. Lord George loved his house and adjacent garden, which was one of a handful of aristocratic London homes that were surrounded by gardens. Unfortunately, the wall around his garden was no deterrent to those who threw oyster shells, dirt, and broken bottles onto his property.
Burlington Arcade, 1827

To keep his garden clear of litter, Lord George commissioned Samuel Ware to design the arcade to run along the western perimeter of his property, and it opened in 1819 with 72 two-story units. The arcade separated Burlington House from Albany, another magnificent home built by Lord and Lady Melbourne nearly three decades earlier. Like Burlington House, the walled property around Albany consisted of a parking court, outbuildings, and garden. 

Just steps from Piccadilly Circus, Burlington Arcade's shops offers high-quality goods ranging from fine cashmere and jewelry to leather goods. Just as it was during Lord George Cavendish's lifetime, the arcade is still patrolled by beadles in top hats and frock coats, modeled after Lord George's regiment, the 10th Hussars. Next blog: Burlington House
Burlington Arcade today

Friday, May 16, 2014

The Queen's Drawing Room

Being presented to the queen was not a requirement for a young lady to be “out,” thus able to dance, attend social events, and the all-important London “Season.” In fact, most young ladies would never step foot in the queen’s drawing room to be presented. Typically only the daughters of peers and the new wives of peers were invited to the queen’s drawing room. However, being invited to such a grand occasion no doubt left a lasting impression on the fortunate lady, an event dictated by the strictest of formality.

During the queen’s drawing room presentations, the girls being presented were called one at a time. They came forward and knelt to the queen. The queen often spoke to the daughters of peers and kissed them on the forehead. If the woman being presented was a peer's wife the queen gave her hand to be kissed. The lady then stood and backed away from the queen. She could not look behind her and could not turn her back on the queen which was probably really tricky in a huge gown with hoops and long trains. I’m sure they practiced for hours, no doubt terrified she’d trip and fall.

Queen Charlotte held drawing rooms until her death in 1818. After that, her daughters, the sisters of the Prince Regent who became George IV, held drawing rooms. Queen Caroline reportedly never did.


Drawing Rooms were traditionally held on Thursdays and were recorded to have been held the following dates:

May 16 1805 
One was held on King’s birthday, which was June 4, in 1810
April 30, 1812, the first since King’s illness
May 16, 1814
July 14, 1814 Buckingham House
March 21, 1816
Feb. 27, 1818
June 7, 1819

According to Ms. Mayer, drawing rooms were also held on the queen’s and king’s birthdays. If you want to know more about court presentation and how a lady might go about receiving and invitation to such an auspicious occasion, please check out my blog post on the topic

Here is a virtual tour of the queen's drawing room, which still looks very Georgian.

Friday, May 2, 2014

English Afternoon Tea

A modern-day English Afternoon Tea
English Tea
by Regency Historical Romance Author, Donna Hatch

As an author of Regency Historical Romances, I often delve into fun customs of those who lived in England in the early 1800's during the time of Jane Austen. I always learn something fun. This newest quest sent me off in search of the customs of afternoon tea.


Tea is a time-honored tradition, and to this American, nothing says British Custom like afternoon tea. While most of us may think of High Tea as an upper class  tradition dating back hundreds of years, I discovered something else entirely.

Tea in the afternoon didn't actually become common until the 1700's. By the Regency Era, the custom had long-since caught on and the upper class had afternoon tea about four o’clock, which was before the fashionable time to promenade in Hyde Park if one was in London. Afternoon tea included, of course, tea served hot. Also served with tea, one would find small finger sandwiches (thin and crustless, thank you), biscuits (which the Americans call cookies), scones with jam and clotted cream, and small cakes—not petite fours, at least, not during Regency but small cakes sometimes called fairly cakes with butter icing, which, from what I’ve been able to tell, were probably not much bigger than mini cupcakes.

Food with tea probably evolved because they ate dinner at the fashionable time of about eight o’clock at night, and since the upper classes weren’t all quite in the habit of eating lunch or luncheon or nuncheon yet, they probably needed that small meal in the middle of the day. Personally, I like a small meal in the afternoon even though I do eat lunch. I would have made a great hobbit with elevensies and lunch and afternoon tea, etc. But I digress.

“High Tea” developed during the Victorian era. Some accounts say that high tea, served later in the day at about five or six o’clock, originated with the lower classes but I don’t understand how they could come home from work for high tea and then return to work for a few hours and then go home again for dinner. *shrug* 

At any rate, high tea is a more filling meal than afternoon tea. High tea usually comes with white and brown bread, meats such as roast pork, fish like salmon, scones, an assortment of sweets such as cake pie, trifle, lemon-cheese tarts, sponge cake, walnut cake, chocolate roll, pound cake, currant teacake, curd tart, macaroons, a variety of cheeses, jellies, as well as butter or clotted cream.

According to Laura Boyl in her article "Tea Time" on the Jane Austen website, the different names are derived from the height of the tables where the meals were served. Low tea is served on a table, which in the United States would be called “coffee tables.” High tea is served on the dinner table.

Because the characters in my Regency romance novels all hail from the upper class, or end up there eventually, I will focus on afternoon tea because that's what they do every day, unless they are fighting pirates or running for their lives or battling villains, of course.

Most sandwiches in the UK are traditionally made with a very thin white bread, generously buttered with potted paste. The potted paste could similar to deviled ham, but also could be a fish paste--salmon, for instance, very thinly spread. I guess they liked their pleasures small, thin, and bite-sized. 

Tea was (and still is) served in a china or silver pot accompanied by slices of lemon or milk. They never put cream in their tea or it would ruin the flavor. According to Regency researcher and author, Kathryn Kane, tea leaves used during the Regency were chopped much more coarsely than those used today. The large size required that the tea be steeped for a longer period, but it also made it easier to strain the used leaves from the tea after it had been steeped. There was a special implement included in many tea services used to clear the strainer at the base of the spout of the tea pot, or to strain the used leaves out of each cup before it was served. You can find more detail at: http://regencyredingote.wordpress.com/2013/11/08/the-mote-skimmer-a-specialty-tea-accessory/

However, Regency author Grace Kone, who is British, told me that if it's done correctly, the tea leaves stay on the bottom, with just enough pouring out to make a scattering of leaves for fortune-telling. It sounds very Harry Potter, doesn't it? Grace said she has never in her life strained leaf tea. Other British friends such as author Janis Susan May Patterson use something called a tea ball, which is small metal case into which she places the tea leaves. These are also known as 'tea eggs.' Other friends pour their tea into their cups through a silver tea strainer, like the one in this picture:

Here is a recipe, courtesy Regency author, Miranda Neville, for cucumber sandwiches:

Very thinly sliced white bread (or whole wheat if you insist on being healthy but really, why bother?). I use Pepperidge Farm Very Thin
Good quality unsalted butter
English cucumbers (about† one and a half per loaf of bread)
Salt
1. Slice the cucumbers very thin. Put them in a colander mixed up with some† salt, weigh them down with a plate, and leave them in the sink to drain for an hour or two.
2. Wash the salt off and pat dryish with a dish towel.
3. Butter the bread.
4. Put two layers of cucumber slices in each sandwich and press flat with your hand so it all sticks together, preferably without becoming totally squashed.
5. Cut off the crusts (very important). With a big sharp knife cut each sandwich into four – triangles, squares, or strips, your preference.

And from “The Royal Pavilion at Brighton a booklet A Choice Selection of Regency Recipes you can  now make at Home” here is a receipt for macaroons.

Macaroons   Makes about 12
1 large egg white
2 oz ( 55 g) ground almonds
2 oz (55) g caster sugar
a few drops rose water
1-2 drops almond essence
about 12 slivered almonds =-optional. 


Heat the oven to 160C/325F/gas3 

Line as baking sheet with baking parchment paper. 
Whisk egg white until stiff. Using a large  metal spoon, fold in  the ground almonds, sugar, rosewater, and almond essence.  Mix until blended  into a smooth thick paste.

Using a teaspoon, put blobs of  the mixture on the lined baking sheet, leaving space between them to allow for expansion during cooking. Flatten with the back of a spoon. If you like you can top each with a sliver of almond.  Bake for about 20 minutes until light golden brown. Transfer to wire rack and leave to cool. 

Sounds yummy, doesn't it? I think for my next book launch I will have afternoon tea. I’m not a tea drinker, so I may deviate from tradition and have herbal tea in my cup, but the rest of it looks like great fun. Last week, I attended a Jane Austen tea in Salt Lake City, UT with some of my Jane Austen geeky friends such as Sarah M. Eden. We had high tea so we had lots of food including fruit and veggies, and we ate at small dinner tables with chairs. We all dressed up and we even had some period entertainment such as a poetry reading, a soloist, and a flutist. It was so fun! 

Have you ever had afternoon tea?





Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Spring of Peace; Spring of War



     The Peace of Amiens lasted just over a year, from March 1802 until May 1803 when Britain declared war again on France.  Joseph Bonaparte, the First Consul's brother, and Lord Charles Cornwallis, Marquess Cornwallis--the same Cornwallis who had fought the Americans in their Revolutionary War--had signed the treaty after months of negotiations, which had started the previous November, with a truce having been set in October 1801.  Looking back, the treaty seemed doomed at the start.

     The treaty had no trade terms, the King of England gave up his hereditary claim to the French throne, and France kept all conquests made since 1793, giving up only its claims to the Papal States, Egypt, and the Kingdom of Naples.  This left French troops occupying North Italy, Germany, and the Netherlands.  Bonaparte also made no secret of his desire for France to continue expansion.  However, in the spring of 1802, many in England choose to see the one bright thing about such a peace--it opened Paris to them again.
     According to The Age of Napoleon, by J. Christopher Herold, "By September 1802, there were about ten thousand Englishmen in Paris alone.  The social scene was more brilliant than it had been during the last years of the old regime.  The great salons, including the celebrated one of Madam Récamier, were open to the more distinguished of the English visitors, and such new and dazzling places of entertainment as the Tivoli and Frascati's were open to all who wanted to see them."
     At about this time, Francis W. Blagdon made a bold trip to Paris, crossing as soon as a truce had been announced and he could get a passport.  His letters, collected in Paris As it Was as it Is, provide a look at the city and what he remembered of it from pre-Revolutionary days.  He writes of Paris, "What a charming abode is Paris, for a man who can afford to live at the rate of a thousand or fifteen hundred pounds a year!"  He exclaimed over the beauty of the Tivoli gardens, and wrote, "...at Frascati, you may, in that gay season, eat ices as good as those with which Cardinal de Bernis used to regale his visiters...." 
     He also notes, "The houses of the great are difficult of access, and those of the secondary class scarcely open with more ease than they did before the revolution. If proper attention be paid to all the letters which a stranger brings, he may be satisfied; though the persons to whom he is recommended, seldom think of taking him to the residence of any of their friends. Therefore, an English traveller, who wishes to mix much in French society, should provide himself with as many letters of recommendation as he can possibly obtain; unless, indeed, he has a celebrated name...."
For those who were happy with lesser amusements, the peace opened up the opportunity to see the early "aeronauts."
Andre-Jacques Garnerin, his wife Jeanne-Genevieve, and his niece Elisa performed balloon ascents and parachute descents in the Jardin de Tivoli.

But quite the most popular attraction had to be Bonaparte, who had himself proclaimed First Consul for life, and held court at the Tuileries Palace.  "It was an impressive spectacle to see him in his gold-embroidered uniform of state walk briskly through the two ranks of guests, stopping here and there to ask a few brusque questions as if the visitors were so many generals," writes Herold.
     Many admired Bonaparte.  While he had done away with the egalitarian "Citizen" and "Citizeness" forms of address, he had also stopped the Revolution's bloody madness, which had spiraled out of control, taking the lives of aristocrats and revolutionaries.  Bonaparte had begun public works, including that of renewing construction of the Louver in 1803, which had been opened by the Revolutionaries in 1793 as a public museum to display works 'liberated' from royal collections.  His plans for Paris included new roads, canals, buildings, and laws, such as the Civil Code or Code Napoleon.  But while Bonaparte brought structure, he also took away liberties.  The press came under his direct control, and his code took any many of the rights women had gained under the Revolution.  (It is said that he once told Madame de Stäle, "Women should stick to knitting."  He believed a man should rule his home, and he should rule France.)
     Like many liberal English Whigs, Charles Fox thought of Bonaparte as a man who could keep the freedoms France had gained under her Revolution and still keep order.  Fox arrived in August 1802 with his wife to visit Lord and Lady Holland, who had traveled abroad due to a doctor's recommendations for their eldest son's health.
     "The Hollands had found many old friends upon their arrival in Paris.  Lafayette, Talleyrand, Madam de Flahault...Madame de Coigny, M. de Jaucourt, Gallois, Morellet, Rumford, Calonne and Bertrand, were amongst the number," writes the Earl of Ilchester in The Home of the Hollands: 1605 - 1820.  "They had seen the First Consul at a parade on the day after their arrival, but only in the distance.  Lady Holland then likened him to 'Kemble in Minature'."
     The comparison of Bonaparte to a famous actor was apt.  Bonaparte knew the importance of performances and public displays.  Each month, he reviewed the troops on the fifteenth, and he looked for any reason for military parades.
     After meeting Bonaparte, Lord Holland wrote of the man, "Bonaparte seems to govern entirely by himself, and considers his Ministers and men of business merely as clerks.  He is undoubtedly impatient of contradiction, to a degree amounting not only to a blemish in his moral character, but to a weakness in his understanding.  In every other respect, however little one may approve, every one must admire him.  The Republicans who raised him, and the friends of rational liberty who first produced and afterwards suffered by the Revolution, are clearly the two descriptions of persons most dreaded and disliked by the Consul.  He adopts the principals of the old Government in many respects, but he certainly has the advantage of not having his power necessarily connected with the restoration of feudal laws and all the abuses which they had produced..."
     Bonaparte took on the trappings of royalty that suited him, and he ruled as he saw fit.  And the contrast between a First Consul who spoke of peace and yet prepared for war lent Paris an edge of excitement.
     Along with new roads and buildings and its salons, Paris was a city of troops and spies.  Not everyone loved their First Consul.  There had been one plot in 1800 with an explosion set in the Rue St. Nicaise that had failed to kill Bonaparte. 


     Other plots continued.  Royalists wanted to restore the monarchy, republicans who felt betrayed by Bonaparte's dictatorship looked for their chance to eliminate the man, and jealous generals who had watched Bonaparte's rise through the ranks sought their own opportunity to rule in his stead.  Bonaparte knew he had enemies, and he intended to always be one step ahead of them, with his police and those few advisors he trusted.  He dealt with the extremists of the Revolution, with uprisings in France, and with the royalist Chouans all with the same brutal, quick military action to kill opposition.  Literally.
     In Holland and the Netherlands, travelers saw the scars of war.  In Paris, royal palaces lay empty, stripped bare, or had been converted into hotels and mansions for the new elite.  The Palais-Royal, built for Cardinal Richelieu and then made a palace for royalty, had already been converted into a series of shops by Philippe, the Duc d'Orléans.  Gambling houses and brothels thrived here.  The Place de Grève, next to Paris's City hall, the Hôtel de Ville, was the traditional spot for executions, and a guillotine continued in use here until 1830.  But it was the Place de Concorde where the king and queen had lost their heads to Madame Guillotine, and where, it was said, the stench of blood had been so strong that cows refused to cross the square.  Despite the French police, Paris had its share of pickpocket's and thieves as well.
     Still, the mood of English visitors was to enjoy the moment, not to find problems or bring up unpleasant history.
     Far better to mingle in a fashionable Paris café with dashing French soldiers and charming French women who still considered themselves liberated by the Revolution.  Or to bribe one's way into the First Consul's reception to glimpse the famous man and his generals.  Or to be daring and risk the latest discovery and current rage and have one's child vaccinated.
     Blagdon writes of attending plays by Molière, and notes,  "The thèâtre des arts or grand French opera, the opera buffa or Italian comic opera, the théâtre Feydeau or French comic opera, and the théâtre Français, chiefly engage my attention."
     Bladgon goes on to give the direction for diverse entertainment, including:
Théâtre des Arts, Rue de la Loi
Bal masqué de l'Opéra, Rue de la Loi
Bal du Sallon des Étrangers, Rue Grange Batelière
Soirées amusantes de l'Hôtel Longueville, Place du Carrousel
Phantasmagorie de Robertson, Cour des Capucines
Tivoli, Rue de Clichy, S.
Frascati, Rue de la Loi, S.
Cabinet de démonstration de Physiologie et de Pathologie, au
    Palais du Tribunat, No. 38, au premier
Madam "Josephine" Bonaparte ruled as well, and her taste set the fashion, with her aristocratic breeding, her charm and elegance.  She was not thought beautiful by all, however.  Lady Holland wrote of her after being presented, "Her figure and tournure are perfect, her taste in dress exquisite, but her face ! ghastly, deep furrows on each side of her mouth, fallen in cheeks, shocking, disgusting, a worn-out hag, prematurely gone, as she is not above 40 years old."

     Perhaps Madame Bonaparte worried for her future.  She had been born Marie Josèphe Rose Tascher de la Pagerie.  She was a widow, older than Bonaparte, with two children and extravagant tastes.  Her affairs with other men after becoming Madame Bonaparte nearly led to divorce in 1799, and marked a change between her and her husband.  But she also had assets--tact that Bonaparte lacked, aristocratic blood and connections, and Bonaparte in some measure considered her his good luck charm.
     Beyond the social scene, the main attraction of Paris, for the English who had lived under blockades and lack of trade goods for years, had to be the shopping.
     Lord Holland wrote, "The sums expended on dress are quite incredible, and the richness of the shops in those articles, as well as in furniture, exceeds not only all description we have ever heard in England but anything the most expensive persons there can imagine."
     As spring faded into summer in 1802, however, news turned troubling.
     In August, Bonaparte put down an uprising in Switzerland.  Reports filtered back of atrocities committed there by French troops.  Bonaparte then went on to annex Piedmont.  To quell revolts in French-held Haiti, Bonaparte ordered the re-institution of slavery--this less than a year after he had given freedom to all slaves in St. Domingo.
     These actions did not violate the treaty, but they gave Britain an excuse to be nervous and put off its evacuation of Malta, its Mediterranean port.
     Many began to believe that while Bonaparte spoke of peace and freedom, his continued military actions made it impossible to believe his words.  English opinion turned against him.  Criticism of the peace and its terms grew louder in the English Parliament and in the English Press.  The Prime Minister, Addington, came under attack.  The great navel hero Nelson even criticized peacetime cuts in England's greatest defense, her fleet.  Caricaturists such as James Gillray continued to savage Bonaparte for his attacks on other nations; Bonaparte responded by banning English papers in France.
     In November, Lord Whitworth went to Paris as the English Ambassador to speak with Bonaparte about his actions.
     But while Bonaparte had ordered the French fleet to be expanded to sixty-six ships of the line, he made no move to war.  And so, at the end of 1802, the English stayed in Paris, enjoying the delights, still shopping and indulging, and putting off tomorrow for another day.