The Regency Wardrobe Collection - research - designing the chalked floor



like chalk-figures drawn on ballroom floors
to be danced out before morning!


William Hazlitt
The Conversation of Authors



I had a printed plan of the frontand back  drawing rooms of The Regency Town House plus a red squashed oval shape representing the ballgown (with it's train) and a fascination for the idea of chalked floors when sat and I began drafting the design I hoped to create in The Regency Wardrobe exhibition. Slowely the ideas came together. Below I've given an overview of my thinking process. 


This is the best description I've found about chalked floors, it's is taken directly from and acredited to:


"And so they would be danced out, never to be seen again. But while they lasted, they enhanced the ballroom decorations for the evening, amused and/or charmed those who would soon dance across the surface of those ballroom floors, even as those same dancers consigned the lovely images to oblivion while they enjoyed themselves...


The practice of chalking the floor of a ballroom appears to have originated near the turn of the nineteenth century, among the beau monde, and was employed on very special occasions for important balls and other notable events which included dancing. One of the primary reasons for chalking the floor was for the safety of the dancers. The soles of most dress shoes at that time, for both men and women, were of plain, smooth leather. Such soles could easily slip on a smooth waxed ballroom floor in the course of a dance. It had become the habit of many dancers to rub the soles of their shoes with chalk before they began dancing for the evening, to give their slick-soled dancing slippers a better grip. At some point, some clever host or hostess hit upon the idea of chalking the entire floor, to ensure the safety of all their dancing guests. But they did not just scatter chalk across the floor. They hired artists to draw beautiful patterns over the floor in chalk which would be danced out over the course of the evening. But regardless of their fleeting nature, the chalk designs on the floor would provide a visual treat to the guests before the ball began as well as eliminating slippage as the dancers whirled about the ballroom.


There is no definitive information on the origin of the practice of chalking ballroom floors. But perhaps the first host to have chalk patterns drawn on their ballroom floor was a naval man, as it was common practice by the beginning of the nineteenth century to lay out ship designs in what was known as a "mould loft." These lofts were large open areas with equally large floors which were described as being as big and as smooth as the floors of a ballroom. Ship plans, which had already been drawn to scale on large sheets of paper, were next drawn full-size in chalk on the floor of the mould loft. These chalked patterns were then used to make wooden templates for the parts which would be needed in the construction of the ship. Once that ship was constructed, the chalk templates would be rubbed out and wiped away, ready for the next set of plans to be laid down. The sight of these chalk drawings on the mould loft floor might very well have sparked the idea of drawing designs in chalk on a ballroom floor.


It was considered de rigueur to brightly light a ballroom for a ball, preferably with a chandelier and several girandoles. The use of chalk designs on the ballroom floor was therefore very advantageous for those who had ballrooms with floors which were a bit the worse for wear. The decorative chalk patterns would cover and disguise an old, worn or stained floor, which might spoil the effect of an elegantly decorated ballroom...Floral designs were very popular for chalk designs, often larger images of the same varieties of flowers which had been used to decorate the ballroom. Arabesques were also fashionable....Mythological and fanciful motifs might also be seen, such as nymphs, mermaids, centaurs, satyrs, sea gods and/or classical heros. Heavenly bodies, such as the sun, the moon, stars, planets, comets and shooting stars were also popular motifs. For those who had the right to bear them, their coat of arms might be chalked on the ballroom floor. At one ball during the Regency, the guest of a gentleman who had had his coat of arms chalked on the ballroom floor that evening is reported to have quipped that his host was dancing on his arms as well as his legs. Floral patterns were most common for engagement or wedding balls, though if either the bride or the groom had a coat of arms, that might be chalked on the floor, often in the center, surrounded by flowers. If the bride and groom both came from families with coats of arms, the coat of arms of the bride might be quartered with those of her new husband in the design which was chalked on the floor for their celebratory ball. The dance floor was frequently chalked for masquerades, oftentimes with figures in keeping with the theme of the masquerade. There are suggestions that the more risqué masquerades had equally risqué drawings chalked on their floors for the titillation of the dancers.


When a ball was given to celebrate a special event, the designs chalked on the ballroom floor might be in keeping with the theme of the ball. At the annual hunt ball of 1813 in Warwick, the figures chalked on the floor included a man in the full hunting dress of a member of that hunt, mounted on a horse who was in the midst of a leap over a barred fence and a full-length figure of Guy of Warwick in a complete suit of armor. In November of 1818, the British Ministry in London held a ball for the American delegation. One of the delegates, Harrison Gray Otis, wrote to his wife about the ball. He estimated there were at least 250 people in attendance and there were two rooms set aside for dancing. In keeping with the political nature of the ball, the floor of each room had a unique chalked design. In one room, a great white circle was chalked in the center of the room, in which was placed the armorial shield of Great Britain, encircled by the motto of the Order of the Garter, the Prince Regent’s crest and other symbols. In the second room, the floor also had a large white chalked circle, but this one contained the arms of the United States and was encircled by a set of symbols uniquely American.


On 25 November 1823, The Royal Suspension Chain Pier in Brighton was officially opened. That evening, Captain Samuel Brown, the man who had designed the pier, and his wife, Mary, gave a ball at their home on the Marine Parade in celebration. The guests were delighted to find, when the ballroom doors were thrown open, that a magnificently realistic drawing of the Chain Pier had been executed in chalk on the ballroom floor... the Chain Pier...was destroyed by a great storm in 1896...


In her article, The Rules of the Assembly: Dancing at Bath and Other Spas in the Eighteenth Century, for JASNA, Allison Thompson states that the practice of chalking ballroom floors was a something which was done at only the highest levels of society, and was in fashion between the years of 1808 to 1821. Though many dancers in the eighteenth century did chalk the soles of their shoes prior to dancing, or hosts spread chalk on their ballroom floors before the festivities, I have found no evidence to suggest that artistic chalk drawings were seen on ballroom floors in England until the beginning of the nineteenth century. However, there is evidence that, in both England and America, ballroom floors were chalked with fanciful designs on special occasions until nearly the end of the nineteenth century. For example, in 1833, King William IV and his Queen, Adelaide, wishing to provide a special treat for their young niece, Victoria, gave a juvenile ball at St. James’s palace for her on her fourteenth birthday, and invited a number of young people her age. The ballroom floor was chalked with a series of fantastical devices intended to amuse and delight the young dancers. Coming-out balls for many young ladies, right through the end of the century, included a chalked design on the ballroom floor. There is also evidence that the chalking of ballroom floors was not restricted to the upper classes. There are letters and diary entries which indicate that many large landowners hosted an annual ball for their tenants at their country estates and often had simple designs chalked on the ballroom floor, much to the delight of those in attendance. Some community assembly rooms chalked their dance floors from time to time for important evenings of dancing, though this seems to have been less common than chalking of floors at private events.


The patterns chalked on ballroom floors were typically designed and executed by professional artists based on the requirements of the host or hostess. However, there were some ladies, like Louisa Adams, who preferred to draw the designs which were to decorate their ballroom floors themselves. Should an unmarried daughter of the house draw the designs, one can be in no doubt that her proud mama would be sure to make that fact known to any potential suitors who might attend the ball that evening...


Much simpler chalk patterns were often to be found on dance floors across England, placed there by dancing masters when teaching their students. The patterns of the steps were chalked onto the floor to make it easier to learn the sequence of movement. Typically, the ladies’ movements would be chalked in white, while the gentlemen’s movements would be chalked in black, though any two colors might be used. A separate set of dance patterns would have to be chalked on the floor for each couple engaged in the lesson, and for each different dance they were learning during that session. In 1822, Thomas Wilson, Dancing Master of the King’s Theatre, published An Analysis of Country Dancing, Wherein All the Figures Used in that Polite Amusement are Rendered Familiar by Engraved Lines: Containing also, Directions for Composing Almost any Number of Figures to One Tune, with Some Entire New Reels; Together with the Complete Etiquette on the Ball-Room, in which can be found a wonderful selection of these dance instruction patterns, as well as written details on how to correctly execute the movements.


During the Regency and into the middle of the nineteenth century, both white and colored chalks were often used to draw the designs on ballroom floors. All-white designs were sometimes seen, and could be done to great effect, though typically, they were rather less expensive than those designs executed in color. But by mid-century, some authors of household management books were advising their readers that ballroom floor chalk designs should be executed only in white chalk. These arbiters of domestic economy decreed that colored chalk spoiled ladies’s gowns and dancing slippers. For example, in Miss Leslie’s Lady’s House-Book; A Manual of Domestic Economy Containing Approved Directions for Washing, Dress-Making, Millinery … , of 1850, on page 436, Eliza Leslie advises:


Ball-Room Floors. — In preparing a floor for dancing, avoid using any sort of coloured chalk. It rubs off on the white satin shoes of the ladies, and spoils them immediately — ruining also the hems of their white dresses. The chalk for ball-room floors should always be white.


This does make sense, as by this time skirt hems were longer than had been those in the Regency, and they would certainly have gathered chalk dust as a lady danced around the room in the arms of her partner. The floors of debutante balls were regularly chalked at this time, and since debs were expected to wear white, colored chalks on the ballroom floor would most certainly have shown on the hems of their dresses, while white chalk would have been barely discernible....Hostesses often let it be known that there would be a chalk design in their ballroom for a special ball, as that had the effect of ensuring the prompt arrival of most of the guests. Since the designs would begin to blur after the first dance, and be quite illegible after two or three more, those wishing to see the transitory art would have to be present in the ballroom before the dancing began. But there were also hostesses who wished to keep their ephemeral designs a secret until the doors of the ballroom were thrown open to their guests and the patterns on the floor were revealed under the bright light of the glowing chandelier above. There were a number of critics of the practice of chalking dance floors, as they disapproved of both the expense of the art and the loss of time in the making of it. It could take anywhere from a day to a week to execute the chalk designs on a ballroom floor, depending on the complexity of the designs and the size of the floor. If a professional artist was employed, the cost could be quite high, even though the work of art would be destroyed soon after the ball began. Costs would be lower if the chalk work was done by amateurs, but it could take longer, thus, in the eyes of the critics, distracting the amateur artists from more important work. But it does seem that the critics were in the minority. Most people did enjoy the fleeting moments of pleasure, and possibly surprise, they were afforded by an elegant design chalked on a ballroom floor before they took to the floor with their partners and danced out the chalked art.


Like William Hazlitt, quoted above, the poet, Thomas Moore, used the concept of chalked figures on a dance floor to suggest the fleetness of time, and thus of life itself. Below is a stanza from Letter VIII of his Intercepted Letters, or the Two-Penny Post-Bag, first published in March of 1813, in which he draws the poetic parallel:


Thou know’st the time, thou man of lore!
It takes to chalk a ball-room floor —
Thou know’st the time, too, well-a-day!
It takes to dance that chalk away.
The Ball-room opens — far and nigh
Comets and suns beneath us lie;
O’er snow-white moons and stars we walk,
And the floor seems one sky of chalk!
But soon shall fade that bright deceit,
When many a maid, with busy feet
That sparkle in the lustre’s ray,
O’er the white path shall bound and play
Like Nymphs along the Milky Way : —
With every step a star hath fled,
And suns grow dim beneath their tread!
So passeth life — (thus Sc–tt would write,
And spinsters read him with delight,) —
Hours are not feet, yet hours trip on,
Time is not chalk, yet time’s soon gone."


Sadly, all those lovely designs chalked on all those many ballroom floors have been danced to dust and are long gone, just as is the Regency."


From (and with thanks to):


In Allison Thompson's article, as mentioned above, she quotes another poetic mention of a chalked floor:

" Thomas Moore, published in 1813:


Thou know’st the time, thou man of lore!

It takes to chalk a ball-room floor—

Thou know’st the time too, well-a-day!

It takes to dance that chalk away.


...the fashion probably did not trickle down to the provincial assemblies, as Austen would certainly have mentioned the chalk dust on the floor and shoes.




And in her post about them Donna Hatch explains in more detail the way that balls were accommodated:


"Ballroom floors were made of polished wooden floorboards, such as shown in the picture above, but not too polished or the dancers would slip. Most of the time, the drawing room floors were covered with large carpets. But for a ball, they removed the furniture, and rolled up and removed the carpets. Most of the big houses didn't have exclusively designated rooms for ballrooms--that was a bit of a nouveau architectural design. Instead, they had state apartments with an enfilade of smaller, connecting rooms which could be opened or closed off, depending on the needs of the event."




The Front Drawing Room:


I'd already descided there would be a map under the ball gown and because of the embroidery connection I'd started looking at maps samplers, with the hope that my volunteers and I could reproduce a map of the hemisphers of the globe directly under the dress. This was the most interesting and apt one I found:


For the design of the front of the floor otherwise I picked up on some of the highlighted and other areas of description above, looking to encoporate mythical beasts and mermaids, also because of how, they are often found swimming around the edged of conntinents on historic maps, I began with mermaids:


and then centaurs and others please see:







By the point I was discussing the floor with the scenic artist who would produce, Charlotte Bownass, I'd been to the V&A clothworkers for a visit to see a quilt I'd heard mention of on radio 4. Charlotte and I began to discuss different types of chalks and the style the imagery would need to be in (with the look of an historical engraving) when and she sent me these images of graffitti she'd seen on a trip to New York:



That style, I decided, would be perfect for the area of the floor in front of the dress. Around the back however the feel of the whole piece was to be different. Whilst the front of the dress was to be about pure luzury the back was to hint at something darker, with the shape of canons encorporated into the train as well as teeth (see my post about making the ballgown) and the costs of the war. For the two corner areas of the floor at the back it was the V&A's Ann West quilt, dated 1820 (please see: ) that I turned.

 Two glamourous Regency soldiers who Ann West shows jousting on her wonderful quilt:

Homelessness, applicable today in relation to ex-military personnel in particular was hitting the news just as I was designing this whole piece and there it was in the Ann West's quilt also, a sailor with a false leg, begging on the streets. One of the unglamorous after affects of war. It turns out that the Vagrancy Act we still sometimes enact today, to move on those who society still doesn't know quite how best to help was first enacted nearly 200 years ago, in the period I am considering, in 1824. It was bought in because of upper class socities aversion to seeing those men who'd returned from the Napoleonic wars and found themselves on the streets. 

Please see: ttps://


Today there are organisations trying to help ex military personnel who find themselves likewise homeless:

but it's still a terrible national problem:

And Brighton and Hove, from the early 1800's until today, on the very streets that surround the very beautiful Brunswick square, has it's own long-term homelessness problem.


When I contacted BHT (Brighton Housing Trust) about research I knew they'd done into the history of homelessness locally I was directed toward this fascinating overview which covers the whole of the 200 year period I've been considering:


And though not specific to ex-military homless there are also interesting Argus articles to be found about the local problem today.

And this video I found particularly shocking:


The Back Drawing Room:


Under the uniforms in the back drawing room I began planning something a bit different. Firstly a Regency era border area (such as this one):

...with waves inside. The image of course then that come to mind is Hokusaki's famous wave painting so I researched the dates of his work:



 He also produced this lesser know painting titled: Feminine Wave:


"Born: supposedly 31 October 1760

Edo (present-day Tokyo), Japan

Died: 10 May 1849 (aged 88)

Edo (present-day Tokyo), Japan


Known forUkiyo-e painting, manga and woodblock printing

Notable work

The Great Wave off Kanagawa

Katsushika Hokusai (/ˌhoʊkʊˈsaɪ, ˈhoʊkʊsaɪ/, also US: /ˈhoʊkəsaɪ/; Japanese: 葛飾 北斎, pronounced [katsɯɕi̥ka hokɯ̥sai] (listen); c. 31 October 1760 – 10 May 1849) was a Japanese artist, ukiyo-e painter and printmaker of the Edo period. Born in Edo (now Tokyo), Hokusai is best known as author of the woodblock print series Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji (富嶽三十六景, Fugaku Sanjūroku-kei, c. 1831) which includes the internationally iconic print, The Great Wave off Kanagawa"



And he wasn't the only artist producing beautiful wave imagery in Japan during that period:

see also this version:


I thought it was also interesting that Japan was closed to the rest of the world during that period, so showing their image of the sea locked inside the outer border seemed appropriate.


"From 1643 to 1853, Japan was closed to the foreign world by the shoguns, but for some (few) Portugueses or Dutch merchants.
In 1810, a Dutch ship in French service, escaping from Java, took shelter in one of Japan's harbour (can't remember which one) from a British warship (the "Phaeton", if my memory's good) hunting him. The British captain ordered the Japanese authority to deliver him the Dutch vessel, but the Japaneses refused. The British then landed somes marines, captured two Dutch merchants living there as hostages, and threatened to execute them if their prey wasn't delivered to them. This time, the Japaneses agreed and let the British take the ship in their harbour.
After that, the local Japanese governor and the harbour commander made Sepuku (traditional suicide) since they took for them the burden of the dishonor for not having been able to protect the Dutch under their protection.

So, the Napoleonic wars made two victims as far as Japan, even at the time of its closure to foreign world! "

From -;id=52433



I also looked at these images:,_Tiger_among_Bamboo,_by_Kan%C5%8D_Tan%27y%C5%AB,_Japanese_Edo_period_-_Nelson-Atkins_Museum_of_Art_-_DSC09109.JPG


with the idea of the French and British like the tiger and dragon across the channel from each other, and just because I love any art on that concertina effect.



Having drawn and written directly on the naval uniform I've made, reflecting the historical connections between tattoss and sailors (particularly Captain Cook's crew, please see:  ) I was inspired also by coming across the image of part land, part sea. I have after all made a uniform inspired by a naval admiral and another that links to a largely land based leader:



nb. I'm writing this post during the process of finalising the design of the floor and my ideas are still developing as we look at the specific floor area and work out what will work best.

I'm not thinking of introducing two epaulettes (French and British) and imagery of the land either side of the channel.


Brodée en frisure de torsades et paillettes d'or.
Le corps est brodé or d’un dessin figurant des feuillages, bordé d’une baguette d’encadrement festonnée sur drap de laine bleue foncée, boutonnière bordée d'une baguette brodée ; son écusson est brodé pareillement.
Double rangée de franges en grosses torsades en fils d'or mélangés mates et brillants. Le contour se compose de trois tournantes : une grosse en bourdon mat et filé brillant roulé alternativement ; une seconde intérieure de même finition ; une troisième, du même travail, est appliquée au-dessous de la grosse, à la naissance de la frange.
Très bon état de conservation.
Premier Empire" -


From an image taken by me during a professional photoshoot at Christmas here is the dress it just needs its background floor:

Behind the dress will be a fan shape with stars marking some of our current british navy and army deployments on.

Please see:



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