Eighteenth century sanitation

I feel like having a little natter about one of my most favouritest things; the eighteenth century. At the top is a picture of a court mantua of the 1740s. The fabric is exquisite and sumptuous, with its beautiful floral decoration in the rococo style. A vast quantity of silk was used in its manufacture. It was a hugely expensive garment. On the other hand it took a whole army of weavers many, many hours of labour, in the most squalid conditions, to produce this beautiful garment. They could not have even dared to dream of owning such a thing.
The middle picture is a view of Greenwich by Canaletto, dating from around 1750.  Wren's buildings stand stately and elegant, and are reflected in a beautifully calm Thames. The people in boats seem to be having a lovely day out in the sunshine. I expect they've got the day off, and are going for a lovely picnic. HOLD ON A MINUTE. In those days, working people didn't have any leisure time. Men, women and children worked all their waking hours. The Thames was a working river, and was already polluted and stinking from all the stink industries which vomited their waste into the river. Where are all the shipwrights, fishing vessels and the like? Where is the town of Greenwich? The festering hovels have all been airbrushed from the tranquil scene. Where are all the louse-infested inhabitants? Where is all the filth and the shit? Talk about rose-tinted spectacles!
The bottom picture is of the composer Johann Christian Bach (1735-82), painted by Gainsborough in about 1760. Bach has his Sunday best on for the portrait. He had recently come to London to seek his fortune. In truth after a promising start he was swindled by one of his servants, and the poor sod died in abject poverty.
The recording I attach is of JC Bach's keyboard sonatas Op5, published in London in the 1750s. In the eighteenth century, the outside world was a horrible place by today's standards. The more comfortably-off could sanitise their lives by playing such music to themselves and their guests, on the harpsichord or spinet that they were able to afford.
Now I will come to the point. I think that the harpsichord fulfils the same function for me. When I play I concentrate of the beauty, elegance, shapes and structures. It sanitises all the things I don't like in my life, at least while I'm playing. I think that's why I'm so fascinated by the eighteenth century; I think that it and I have a lot in common.