Dear Diary,

Yes, I am still here and I can guess the thoughts most uppermost in your mind right now as you read this!

For you’re probably thinking that I have forgotten all about Number 13 Piccadilly Terrace and have shaken the dust of the year 1815 from the soles of my feet as Lord B had hoped to when he sailed from our shores in the Spring of 1816 to a life of exile and even greater notoriety.

I am happy to report that you are quite mistaken and although I haven’t quite got around to dressing some of the rooms that will appeal and appease the comfort level of any inhabitant, imaginary or otherwise – the work continues.

Admittedly, my work as of late has been more of the choosing and purchasing variety rather than the creating and painting tasks which still await including the putting together of one or two pieces of rather essential furniture.

For over two score years I would like to believe that I have had a more than average understanding of the word essential and what it means; however last month I was forced to concede this point when my pesky son caught me drooling over a silver Georgian Tea Urn that I had bought from the US and having excitedly held it aloft for his opinion, he remarked:

“It’s very nice, but did they serve tea from a tray on the floor in Byron’s time?”.

Although the merits of essential furniture which along with the virtues of soft furnishings have never been high on the list of my priorities, 12th scale or not – I have also been very busy as a feature columnist for the Dolls’ House Magazine and the story of my ‘Lord Byron House’ has been making frequent appearances within the news ink of my monthly musings.

Inspired by the poet’s favourite Newfoundland who died from Rabies in November 1808 – can you spot Boatswain created by the wonderful Lucy Francis of Designer Dog Miniatures in the image below?

Alas! For as MY Boatswain warmed himself by the cozy fire, he was to be at his leisure for some time in that library as any self respecting poet would take one look at those bookshelves sadly devoid of books and promptly make off to the nearest Gentleman’s Club!

And although Boatswain’s portrait along with a very grand monument can still be seen at the poet’s ancestral home Newstead Abbey in Nottingham – his familar likeness in oils would also be enjoyed in the library here at Number 13 – eventually!

With the summer officially over and with the promise of some very exciting plans – I shall be surely spending more of my time in the year 1815!

Posted by:Regency Recondite

In Search of a Dead Poet's Society...

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