New Years Eve in London

After the Rock and Roll tour, took a cab to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese for dinner - again. And even though the concierge had called before hand, they were closed - again. Many others had shown up, too, with no joy. So off to steak house for dinner (porterhouse) and now back in the room, where I already did most of the packing. Went down to bar and brought up a lovely snifter of Hennessy brandy and am having one of the best NYEs ever - watching Mr. Bean on telly, the Royle Family Christmas Special on BBC iplayer, the Fireworks from Dubai and now Coronation Street. You have got to love it. Up early tomorrow for breakfast and then to airport at 9:30. Greg has no idea yet, but I've checked us in to the private lounge at the terminal, which should make our wait a bit nicer. Think of me tomorrow, on the plane for 11 and a half hours. I've brough my Nook, a real paperback and my needlepoint kit that I just bought, so should well occupied with those and the in flight entertainment. I am bereft at having to leave. Until next time, I'll just have to close my eyes and think of England. Happy New Year to all. Will be doing longer posts of the points of interest I've mentioned in past trip blogs next year, which is now only 3 and a half hours away. Or 8 hours away for you in the States. Cheers!

Just Back From Apsley House

Quick marched there and back - don't worry, I took lots of snaps for you along the way. Okay, here's the deal - I'm commandeering the Piccadilly Drawing Room as my bedroom and the adjacent Portico Drawing Room as my . . . drawing room. Lovely views over the Wellington Arch and room enough outside for a balcony. Happy to say that Apsley House was packed with visitors. By the time I arrived, there were no more audio tour handsets. I told the man not to worry, I was probably the one visitor there who didn't need one. Off now to Tottenham Court Road tube station to catch the Rock and Roll tour. . . .

Last Day in London

And I'm frantically trying to find a Rock and Roll tour of London for Greg. All those in cabs or minivans go off on days other than Friday. Sigh. Rock and roll - I ask you! Looks like a London Walk at 2 from Tottenham Court tube station. Also looks like I'll be dashing out before hand to Apsley House. On my own, thank goodness. One must have solitude in order to properly - HOLY GOD - the smoke alarm in our room just went off and scared the living Hell out of me . . . . be still my heart . . . . where was I? Oh, yeah, solitude in order to properly contemplate the glorious triumphs and wonderous achievements of the Duke of Wellington. . . . . Going to try once again for dinner at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, then back to the hotel to pack. Can I tell you how much I don't want to leave? Life is oft times unfair, is it not? I mean really, if life were fair, I'd be living at Apsley House. I don't know who else has more of a right to do so. The Wellesley family hardly qualify - they were simply born into it. I've earned it. I'd have my rooms overlooking the Wellington Arch. I'd sit at a table before the window every morning, watching the tour buses and black cabs go round and round as I smoked cigarettes and sipped my coffee from the official William and Kate tankard I bought in Buckingham Palace last night. Each day as I made my way downstairs I'd sneer at Napoleon's statue and ask my man (one must have a man, no?) to arrange for tea at the Ritz. Or the Mandarin Oriental. Or some such. You'd all be invited to come and stay. It would be such fun. We could stroll Rotten Row and eat dinner in the Waterloo Chamber. And drink glasses of port round the fire. And play whist while dressed in Regency garb. We could try on Wellington's boots and afterwards we could slip upstairs and raid the attics. Just imagine what we'd find in all those dusty trunks and boxes . . . . . Sigh. Rock and roll - I ask you!

Happy New Year!

Just Back From the Palace

So, I was walking from the hotel down towards the Mall in order to get to St. James's Street. Thinking like a resident, i.e. what are these people doing here and why are they blocking my route, I then glanced to the right as a troop of mounted guards approaching - the Changing of the Guard. Yes, stupid, every day at 11:30. Oh, bother, thought I, until I realized that this would make for great video for the blog, and so I took some. Eventually I did get to St. James's Street and Piccadilly. First stop Fortnum & Mason - bought xmas cards for next year. Then Hatchards, where I bought some re-issued, previously out of date Georgette Heyer mysteries. Then to Richoux Tea Rooms for lunch. Walked Jermyn Street, took (another) photo of the window at Whites, peeked in at Duke's Hotel and toddled my way back to the hotel to pick up Greg and head over to the Palace. What an experice, from arrival to departure. We were truly treated like royalty. Will blog about it in detail soon - suffice to say that upon passing security, you're offered chairs to wait in until the tour officially starts. So, I'm sitting there taking it all in (French windows, window treatments, rug, etc etc.) When I look to the right, and what is the first thing I see? Chantry's bust of the Duke of Wellington - not kidding. Although this wasn't planned as an Artie tour, it has certainly turned into one (yippeeee!) You'll have to wait for further details on our visit, but it was really a treat. Even Greg was impressed/interested. Our guide, Dawn, was quite entertaining.

We got out two hours later and went for dinner. And Bacardi and Coke. Greg is emphatic that he's done enough walking for one trip. Oh, boy, he has no idea - Victoria, Brooke and I typically do as much walking in just a single day as weve done this trip. And I spared Greg the tube experience, so we've been cabbing it. Truly, the man has no idea. In any case, this frees me up tomorrow so I'll be heading to Apsley House (again) then Oxford Street and maybe I'll sneak in a massage. What the Hell. . . . more tomorrow.
Update: Apsley House website says it both open and closed tomorrow. The chart of opening times says open, the calender of openings says closed. Tune in tomorrow - will I or won't I visit Apsley House?

Score!

So . . . I was walking by the shop at the Royal Mews, went in to browse . . . overheard one of the ladies who work there telling a man that they are doing an unprecedented opening of Buckingham Palace today and tomorrow only. Private tours of the palace with a guide, 20 people per tour, champagne included. Reader, I booked us in for 4 p.m. today - woooo hooooo! What a coup! What an experience! What a treat!

Check in later for all the Palace scoop . . . . . . off now to Piccadilly to stroll a bit until tour time.

London - Day 4

Up very early and off to Paddington Station to meet our London Walks guide for our tour of Oxford and the Cotswolds. We all met by the ticket office at Platform 1, boarded the train and arrived at Oxford about 90 minutes later. The entire journey was pretty much done in a white out - the ground outside of London is still covered in a blanket of white snow and the weather was incredibly foggy. You really couldn't see much more than 20 feet from either side of the train. A coach was waiting for us and we traveled to the lovely little village of Minster Lovell - detailed post to follow. Suffice to say that the village is filled with thatched cottages, narrow lanes, stone bridges over babbling rivers, etc etc. Reader, it was to die for. Didn't take me long to pick out which cottage I wanted. Then it was off to Burford, a much larger town, where we had lunch and browsed the shops. Final stop in Oxford, where we took a walking tour. Greg and I peeled off from the group near the end to take care of the essential Three P's of Touring as set down by myself and Victoria. The Three Ps are - a pint, a pee and a peek at anything that's caught your eye. In this case, it was the Grapes (pee and pint both dispatched) and Waterstone's bookshop, where I bought books by my favorite English authors that aren't available in the States or on B&N website - a post on this soon. We arrived back in London at 7 and went to Boisdale of Belgravia for dinner - potato and leek soup (hot and warming) and Angus beef burgers (yummy).

Fell into bed and watch the first episode of a new show called Rock and Chips - later post. So, today is a leisurely day with no time tables - going to walk down the Mall and snake my way into St. James's Street. Will walk Piccadilly, look round Shepard's Market, pop into Fortnums, Hatchard's and the Burlington Arcade, toddle my way down to Charing Cross Road and perhaps see a matinee of "When We Are Married" playing at the Garrick, etc etc. Nothing more than a rambling day round London Town. . . Oh, joy!

The Great Belzoni

London has seldom seen a more remarkable foreigner than Giovanni Baptista Belzoni who, in a lifetime spanning just forty-five years, was barber, monk, acrobat, engineer, traveller and popular author. Belzoni's Exhibition drew Londoners to the Egyptian Hall in 1821 to see the Theban tomb and mummy. Belzoni had been born in Padua in 1778, where his barber father educated his son to be a monk. However, wanderlust filled the young Belzoni's breast and in 1803 he arrived in England in order seek his fortune.

Belzoni was a giant of a man, standing six foot and seven inches tall, and turned his hand to performing at Sadler's Wells Theatre, where he took the stage name of The patagonian Samson and displayed feats of strength. He went on to give performances at Astley's Royal Amphitheatre, Bartholomew Fair and in scores of towns throughout the British Isles. Saving up a nest egg, Belzoni married an Englishwoman and then turned his mind to engineering, specifically to the study of hydraulics. This led him to the scheme that he might go to Egypt and instruct the populace on a method of raising water.

In 1815 Belzoni went to Cairo to offer to Mohammed Ali Pasha, the founder of modern Egypt, a hydraulic machine he had invented, which worked extremely well. While in Egypt he met the British Consul General, Henry Salt, who engaged him to travel to Thebes to remove the colossal stone head of Rameses II (The Young Memnon) to be delivered to the British Museum. His success prompted Henry Salt to further Belzoni's expeditions to the temple of Edfu, Philae and Elephantine, where he cleared the great temple of Rameses II at Abu Simbel, excavated at Karnak, and in 1817 discovered the tomb of the pharaoh Seti I, in the Valley of the Kings. Belzoni was the first person to penetrate into the second pyramid of Giza (1818) by using his engineering genius to locate the entrance to the inner chambers, and the first European to visit the oasis of Siwah, and identify the ruined city of Berenice on the Red Sea.

Belzoni used hundreds of Egyptian peasants in 1815, and recorded this feat of

archaeological engineering in this famous coloured drawing.

Upon his return to England, Belzoni was lionized by society and struck up a friendship with publisher John Murray, who published Belzoni's Narratives of the Operation and recent Discoveries within the Pyramids, Temples, Tombs and excavations in Egypt and Nubia. Byron's take on the book was this, "Belzoni is a grand traveller, and his English is very prettily broken." No matter, the book saw three printings.

From Dr. Smiles book, The Memoirs of John Murray, we get the following account of George IV's coronation and Belzoni's part in it: "Like many other men of Herculean power, Belzoni ws not eager to exhibit his strength, but on one occasion he gave proof of it. Mr. Murray had asked him to accompany him to the coronation of George IV. They had tickets of admission to Westminster Hall, but on arriving there they found that the sudden advent of Queen Caroline, accompanied by a mob claiming admission to the Abbey, had alarmed the authorities, who had caused all the doors to be shut. That by which they should have entered was held close and guarded by several stalwart janitors. Belzoni thereupon advanced to the door, and in spite of the efforts of these guardians, including Tom Cribb and others of the pugilistic corps who had been engaged as constables, opened it with ease, and admitted himself and Mr. Murray."

Unfortunately, Belzoni still retained his wanderlust and sense of adventure and embarked for Timbuctoo in 1823. In Benin, he was seized by dysentery and died. A statue to Belzoni was raised in his native Padua and the city of Belzoni, Mississippi was named in his honour. His widow eventually received a small pension from the British Government and, in 1829, published his drawings of the royal tombs at Thebes.

For further information,, read Stanley May's The Great Belzoni: The Circus Strongman Who Discovered Egypt's Ancient Treasures

London - Day 3

I've just been reading all of your comments - LOL! Yes, saved by the Duke - again! We got a cab first thing this a.m. and drove over to Eaton Place, where the cab driver wondered why I wanted to take pics of #65. I asked if he had seen the original Upstairs, Downstairs and he said he had, so I explained to him that #65 is what they used for #165 in the series. Then it was on to the Tower - boy, this time out, the Beefeater included many Wellington anecdotes - I'll do a post on them soon. Then we went to Cecil Court, to Mark Sullivan Antiques, where I bought that wonderful Staffordshire figurine of the Duke in June. Mark and I chatted a bit and he told me, once again, that I'd missed seeing the current Duke of Wellington as he'd been in a few days before. Mark had some so/so Artie stuff and I made noises about taking a pass on the items when Mark told me to hold on a moment, that he had two things downstairs that he was holding for a dealer, but the dealer hadn't yet come back, so he offered them to me - a Lambeth pottery mug with a figure of Artie on the front and a small, bronze bust. Reader, I bought both. Again, pics and post to follow. Then we did the Thos. Lawrence exhibit at the National Portrait Galler - again, a post to come. Then to Madame Tussauds and now we're back in the room for a quick brush up before dinner. Tonight the final episode of U/D, tomorrow Oxford and the Cotswolds. My back is aching, I'm really exhausted but I'm not complaining in the least. I'm in heaven. Miss you all, wish you could be racketing round London with me. I'll try to post again tomorrow . . . .

Happy Birthday, Jerry

Victoria here, requesting your indulgence as I range over several subjects inspired by today's celebration of my brother's birthday on December 28.  Like many people who have Christmas season birthdays, I guess he always gets the short end of the stick (and he will in this blog eventually).  I was five when he was born, and I remember wating eagerly for a new baby in the household, which I figured would be much like having another doll.
But I wasn't prepared to be taken away from my new cache of Santa-delivered bounty on the day after Christmas.  I went to my grandmother's without my wonderful new dollhouse, a tragedy to a spoiled little brat like me.  And Jerry took a rather long time to arrive, probably more to Mother's dismay than mine. It was one of those on-again off-again things which went on several days. 

 Eventually Mother and Daddy brought home a little doll for me, but one who seemed to cry a lot more than my toys did.  Nevertheless, I have always been proud of my little brother.  He has a wonderful wife, Pat, with whom I've traveled to Merrie Olde England.  A few years ago, we were there for the Harrod's after Christmas sale. What fun! Actually, Jerry and Pat are both enthusiastic travelers, and we've "done" London together. 
Thinking about those who have Christmastime birthdays reminded me of a story I loved in my childhood, The Bird's Christmas Carol by Kate Douglas Wiggin, published in 1888 (I was really quite young at the time!). It may have been read to me but I remember reading it myself leading up to Christmas.

London - Day 2

Unlike Mr. White (see post below) Greg and I haven't yet run into any shady characters, though we've been covering alot of ground. We did the bus tour again today, Blue Route this time, walked Regent Street, went to Liberty's (thought of you, Vicky!) took a boat cruise on the River Thames then went to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese in Fleet Street for dinner. It was closed until the 29th - and the cab had left. Fleet Street after business hours is desolate, to say the least. What to do? Well, I thought, I'll just carry on as if I know what the Hell I'm doing. "This way," I told Greg as I walked purposefully towards the Strand. Please God, I prayed, let there be somewhere's nice to eat. We passed The George pub - very old, very atmospheric, very closed. Xmas and the Bank Holiday are playing havoc with opening times. Right then, I told myself, keep marching. We fell upon Somerset House and went inside to watch the ice skaters. Then we walked another three blocks up the Strand when, off on the far right corner I saw something promising - lights were on, people were inside and it looked like a pub. It was a pub . . . The Duke of Wellington in Wellington Street. NO, I'm not kidding . . . saved by the Duke. Again. We had a pint in the bar and then went upstairs to the dining room, where we had a fantastic meal (lamb shank pie for me, steak for Greg) and warmed ourselves by the gas fire. The Duke of Wellington - I ask you, what were the odds!? Then we went off on the Ripper Walk and back to the hotel for Part 2 of Upstairs, Downstairs - yes, it's still delicious.

Watching the news afterwards, we saw that the NY/NJ metro airports have cancelled flights due to snow and now resemble Heathrow. Thank God we timed our flight just right, another day we might have been grounded. Of course, if it snows here now and we can't get out of Heathrow, I could care less. Yippeee says I. In the meantime, we have Eaton Place, the Tower, Madame Tussaud's, National Portrait Gallery, Cecil Court and who knows what else in store. Will keep posting . . . . . . Needless to say, having a wonderful time, wish you all were here.

A Lesson for American Tourists in London

The following account was taken from Letters on England, written by Joshua E. White (1816). The book contains a series of descriptive views of the areas he visited and his general observations. White was an American merchant who traveled to England in connection with business and left Savannah, Georgia bound for Liverpool in May of 1810. Eventually, Mr. White arrived in London, as do most visitors to England. Here is his account of his run-in with a disreputable hackney-coachman. And two prostitutes. And the law.

At Chiswick, on the bank of the Thames, I sometimes sought an asylum from the noise and confusion of London. My letters introduced me to the acquaintance of Mrs. Levett, (who resided here,) the young and beautiful widow of a gentleman who died in Georgia, in 1808. He had left his widow and two infant daughters in London; and after the melancholy tidings reached her, she sought a retreat with her respectable mother, Mrs. Wright, and her amiable sister, Miss Charlotte Wright, at the little village just mentioned. In this charming company I embraced every opportunity of spending a few hours. When tired of the noise of the city, I would visit this agreeable family, and I always met with a cordial and a kind reception. It will be for a long time to me a source of pleasure to reflect on the means which introduced me to the acquaintance of those females; and no period of my stay in England will be remembered with more fond delight than those hours I spent at Chiswick.

Upstairs, Downstairs a Triumph

Well, they've done it. They've brought back the beloved BBC series and managed to achieve just the right measure of nostalgia and new, delicious storylines that run both upstairs and down. I won't give away any good bits nor run spoilers for those in the U.S. who won't see the series until April. I must tell you, however, that Rose's return to 165 Eaton Place is a tear-jerker thanks in parts to strains of the old theme song being played at appropriately poignant moments, whilst new grand dame Dame Eileen Atkins as Maud, Lady Holland, above, provides sly comedic overtones and spars deliciously with her daughter-in-law, Lady Agnes. UK reviewers are saying there's too much comedy in this version, that it's not as deep as the original, but really, they could never remake the original to anyone's satisfaction, so why try? It's every bit as good, IMHO, its got me hooked and how much soul searching/character development can you do in three episodes? You can read an article from the Telegraph about the new series here - it includes no spoilers. In short, the new Upstairs, Downstairs is, um, delicious and the only problem I can foresee is how they're going to wrap everything up in three episodes. No doubt the downside to this new version is that it will leave us all wanting more. I've only to wait till tomorrow night for Espisode 2 and shall dutifully report on it here.

Did anyone else in the UK watch Upstairs, Downstairs tonight? Please leave your comments and let me know what you thought of it.

Heaven, I'm In Heaven . . .

We made it, we're in London! Woo Hoo! No problems with the flight, arrived at our hotel around 11:30 a.m. and the room was ready. Unpacked and went to Victoria Station to get some money from the ATM, then on board the Hop On, Hop Off tour bus for a whirlwind trip round London. We crossed the Thames four times!? Wow, was Oxford Circus and Regent Street packed with people. Hamley's was jammed. Harrod's closed today - jinormous sale starts tomorrow. You can bet we won't be there. We plan to do the alternate bus tour tomorrow, then the river cruise, then the Tower, then dinner at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, then the Ripper Walk with Donald Rumbleow. It's cold here, but no worse than New Jersey.

Had dinner in the carvery here in the hotel - roast beef, Yorkshire pudd, gravy, veg and dessert - straight down the road to Gouts-ville, but who cares? Met a wonderful couple at the next table, got to talking about how I love UK telly, they love US telly, neither of us can access the other and so we've made a Devil's Bargain to email each other links to our favorite shows. We'll get around these restrictions or die trying. Speaking of which, Upstairs, Downstairs debuts here tonight, Antiques Roadshow is also on and they told me how to access the Royle Family Xmas special here (BBC Iplay, which you can't access from the States, hence the Devils' Pact). After dinner, Greg and I walked down the street to Buckingham Palace to see it lit up at night yes, Vicky, I did yell "Chuck!" even though I know he's not there. One day . . .

There are gobs of William and Kate tat in the stores here already (yipppeee!) and I'm on the verge of tears every time I see a pub or currency exchange bureau. I know, crazy. Oh, btw, we were on the bus tour and I was telling Greg (or so I thought) about the In and Out Club in Piccadilly and the tour guide overheard me and asked, "How do you know about the In and Out Club/Melbourne House?" and so he turned off his mike and we started talking about the Melbournes and Palmerstons, about Artie's having been at England's first railroad fatality, about the Marble Arch, Lady Caro Lamb, etc etc etc . . . . . God, it's good to be home. As you can see, the laptop is functioning fine, so I'll be posting more about our trip tomorrow. Off to shower and watch Upstairs, Downstairs. I know I shouldn't rub it in, but I promise to tell you all tomorrow. I can't wait to see Rose . . . .

Basildon Park Rebirths

Basildon Park is in Berkshire overlooking the lovely Thames Valley, built in the 1770's in the strict Palladian style by architect John Carr of York.

Basildon Park was abandoned about 1910 and stripped of its furnishings even including flooring, fireplace surrounds and woodwork. It was used to house troops or prisoners in both world wars. Some rooms were removed and reconstructed in the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City (ballroom, below).

Basildon Park stood mostly empty and deteriorating until 1952 when Lord and Lady Iliffe, a newspaper tycoon and his wife, rescued the house. Lady Iliffe writes, "To say it was derelict is hardly good enough: no window was left intact, and most were repaired with cardboard or plywood; there was a large puddle on the Library floor, coming from the bedroom above, where a fire had just been stopped in time; walls were covered with signatures and graffiti from various occupants….It was appallingly cold and damp. And yet, there was still an atmosphere of former elegance, and a feeling of great solidity. Carr's house was still there, damaged but basically unchanged."

Merry Christmas!

Our Christmas wishes to you . . . . .

May you always be surrounded by good friends

May you always find the perfect thing to wear

May you always have a good book waiting to be read

May you use your gift cards wisely

Upstairs, Downstairs - Original Cast Update

Back-stage group photo from the 50-years BAFTA celebration event from October 2007.

From left to right: Christopher Beeny (Edward), Jacqueline Tong (Daisy), Simon Williams (James), Pauline Collins (Sarah), John Alderton (Thomas), Jean Marsh (Rose/co-creator), Meg Wynn Owen (Hazel), Lesley-Anne Down (Georgina) and Jenny Tomasin (Ruby).

When the original Upstairs, Downstairs aired 40 years ago, the series about life in Edwardian England was watched avidly by 300 million viewers in 50 countries and won five Emmy Awards in the United States. With the beginning of the new series (see our previous post here) to be aired on BBC One and BBC HD on 26th, 27th and 28th December, we got to wondering about what had happened to the original cast members in the intervening years. So, as our Christmas Eve present to you, here's what we've found -

David Langton - Richard Bellamy - After his success in "Upstairs, Downstairs," Mr. Langton appeared on television as a Cabinet minister in "Winston Churchill: The Wilderness Years" in 1981, as Prime Minister Lord Asquith in "Number 10" in 1983, and as Lord Mountbatten in the television film "Charles and Diana: A Royal Love Story" in 1982. Before "Upstairs, Downstairs," the Scottish-born Mr. Langton spent most of his acting career in the theater, playing supporting roles in London's West End, but he also did some film work. Movies in which he appeared included Richard Lester's Beatles film, "A Hard Day's Night," in 1964, "The Pumpkin Eater" in 1964 and "The Whistle Blower," with Michael Caine, in 1986. He died in 1994 at the age of 82.

What Christmas Is In Country Places by Charles Dickens

If we want to see the good old Christmas— the traditional Christmas—of old England, we must look for it in the country. There are lasting reasons why the keeping of Christmas cannot change in the country as it may in towns. The seasons themselves ordain the festival. The close of the year is an interval of leisure in agricultural regions ; the only interval of complete leisure in the year; and all influences and opportunities concur to make it a season of holiday and festivity. If the weather is what it ought to be at that time, the autumn crops are in the ground; and the springing wheat is safely covered up with snow. Everything is done for the soil that can be done at present; and as for the clearing and trimming and repairing, all that can be looked to in the after part of the winter; and the planting is safe if done before Candlemas. The plashing of hedges, and cleaning of ditches, and trimming of lanes, and mending of roads, can be got through between Twelfth Night and the early spring ploughing; and a fortnight may well be given to jollity, and complete change.

Staying at the Palace - Maybe

Update 12/22 1:30 p.m. - I can't find anything new being posted re: Heathrow on the web, nor on the t.v. news. So I'm going to go on the assumption that things are evening out, that flghts are making it in and out and that no news is good news. The news outlets apparently don't publish stories on things getting back to normal, only on events at their worst. Using yet another cliche, while there's good news, there's also bad news - 20% chance of snow in London today and again on Saturday. It's all still iffy in my mind, therefore I shall continue to pray, hope, keep my fingers crossed and sing voodoo chants while swinging a dead chicken round and round above my head. It would be much appreciated if you'd do the same.


Update 12/22 a.m. - Heathrow's second runway is now operational. I just check the arrivals - all flights arriving from the U.S. have either landed or are expected. The only airline that consistently reads "contact carrier" is British Airways. We're flying Continental. A ray of hope . . . . .

Meet Albert Nobbs

Glenn Close is set to appear on the big screen as the gendre switching title character Albert Nobbs in a new film currently in production. Close starred in an off-Broadway adaptation of George Moore's short story in 1982 as the title character, a woman who lives as a man in the Victorian era in order to take advantage of the luxuries and opportunities not otherwise afforded to women at that time. Close is starring as Albert Nobbs this time around too; she also co-wrote the screenplay and is producing the Rodrigo García-directed film.

Victoria's Family Christmas

That would be Victoria H. not Victoria R. -- you've already heard about her Christmas.

My family always had an English Christmas dinner, complete with Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding and for dessert, Plum Pudding made by my grandmother, known as Mimi, from a recipe suposedly brought to the U.S. by her grandmother (my great-great grandmother) Elizabeth Stanley about 1850.

Elizabeth and Thomas Stanley came by ship from Liverpool to New Orleans and up the Mississippi to St. Louis. They traveled east across Illinois almost to the border with Indiana, the Wabash River.

 There, in the little town of Albion, Illinois, they settled.  They had come from their home in Yorkshire with eight children including a pair of 2-yr.-old twins.  I can't begin to imagine what they endured.  A final son was born to them in 1852, named George Washington Stanley, my great-grandfther.  He became the sheriff of Edwards County, IL, of which Albion was the seat.  So Mimi (1890-1975) spent a part of her childhood in a house on Court House Square which also held the office and jail as well as the residence of the county's leading law enforcer.

The Wellington Connection - Christmas Trees

What would Christmas be without our trimming the tree? Some believe that it was Prince Albert who introduced the custom of the Christmas tree to England, while others maintain that they were introduced to England by King George III's German wife, Queen Charlotte. However, it was only circa 1848, after the London Illustrated News ran the engraving depicting showing Queen Victoria and Prince Albert celebrating  around the Christmas tree with their children (above left) that this tradition caught on with the public.

Queen Victoria's Christmas tree at Windsor in 1850 as painted by James Roberts (1824 - 1867). The presents around the tree are from Prince Albert.

We thought it might prove amusing to see what others had written about the Christmas tree in centuries past.

Amelia Murray, Recollections from 1803 to 1837

Christmas-trees are now common. In the early part of this century they were seldom seen, but Queen Charlotte always had one dressed up in the room of Madame Berkendorff, her German attendant; it was hung with presents for the children, who were invited to see it, and I well remember the pleasure it was to hunt for one's own name, which was sure to be attached to one or more of the pretty gifts.

A Christmas Complaint

The following letter, published under the heading It Is Lucky That Christmas Does Come But Once A Year, first appeared in an 1853 volume of Punch.

DEAR PUNCH.-I live in lodgings. I am one of those poor unfortunate helpless beings, called Bachelors, who are dependent for their wants and comforts upon the services of others. If I want the mustard, I have to ring half-a-dozen times for it; if I am waiting for my shaving water, I have to wander up and down the room for at least a quarter of an hour, with a soaped chin, before it makes its appearance.

But this system of delay, this extreme backwardness in attending to one's simplest calls, is invariably shown a thousand times more backward about Christmas time. I am afraid to tell you what I have endured this
Christmas. My persecutions have been such as to almost make me wish that Christmas were blotted out of the Calendar altogether.

I have never been called in the morning at the proper time. My breakfast has always been served an hour later than usual—and as for dinner, it has been with difficulty that I have been able to procure any at all!
This invasion of one's habits and comforts is most heart-rending; and the only excuse I have been able to receive to my repeated remonstrances has been, 'Oh, Sir, you must really make some allowances; pray recollect, it is Christmas time.'

Happy Birthday Jane Austen!

Jane Austen December 16, 1775-June 18, 1817

My dearest Jane,

Here I am in the snowy midwest of the United States (that country born just after you), 235 years after your birth, expressing my thanks to you for all your talents and achievements.  I can only hope that somehow you are aware of the esteem in which you are held by millions of people.  Are you surprised that your novels are still adored 200 years after their publication? And that you are celebrated as one of English Literature's most famous authors?

Jane Austen, sketch by sister Cassandra

How do you account for the fact that many of us call ourselves Janeites? That we gather yearly in several countries to discuss your work, from the earliest of juvenilia to the final letters, prayers and poems you wrote just before your demise? That we scour your words, the accounts of relatives and friends, the objects you touched, your travels, your acquaintances, and every scrap we can uncover that might relate to your life? That universities devote entire courses of you? And that your work has provided the backbone for a whole industry of films, television series, sequels, continuations, contemporary interpretations, and scholarly treatises?

Jane Austen, as revised 1871

Jane Austen's 235th Birthday in Wisconsin

JASNA-WI celebrated Jane Austen's 235th Birthday on Saturday, December 11, 2010.  We had a wonderful time at the North Hills Country Club where we looked over the avenues of trees along the snowy golf course, which looked for all the world like a wintry English landscape garden, Capability Brown-style.

l-r Judy Beine, Victoria, Diana Burns, Liz Cooper,
Kathy O'Brien, Coral Bishop, Kim Wilson

We ate the lovely individual Beef Wellingtons and oh-so-English Trifle courtesy of our members Susan Flaherty and her father -- many thanks for your continuing generosity. Right, members of the JASNA-WI executive committee.

Among the many wonderful things for sale at the luncheon were the offerings of Austen Authors,l-r, Jack Caldwell, Kathryn Nelson, Abigail Reynolds, Marilyn Brant, and C. Allyn Pierson, all of whom have written sequels and/or continuations of Austen novels. More about them here.

Washington Irving's English Christmas

 
Washington Irving (1783-1859) was born in Manhattan, NYC, and traveled in Europe as a young man and later for business.  He was one of the first genuine American literary geniuses, famous for many stories and essays, especially The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip Van Winkle. 

During his travels in England he wrote about Christmas celebrations in the countryside.  Below are a few excepts...for the entire text click here.  This is a long account, so I have eliminated large parts, which may be of interest to you, but in the spirit of the season, here is a taste...

Walter Potter's Museum of Curiosities



The Kitten's Wedding

Until his death in 1918, Walter Potter created numerous scenes from everyday domestic life – a cricket match, a tea and croquet party, a wedding, a schoolroom – using taxidermied guinea pigs, rabbits, kittens, squirrels, and other small birds and animals, all of which were on view at Potter’s Museum in Bramber, West Sussex. While now-a-days Potter's use of animals would draw a hue and cry from activists, one cannot deny that the collection is a wonder and that it offers a view on Victorian ingenuity.

The Bride

The eccentric world of taxidermist Walter Potter, where stuffed animals mimic human life, occupied various homes after Potter's death, one of them being Jamaica Inn in Cornwall. However, the 10,000 item collection was broken up and sold for more than £500,000 in 2003. Many people were outraged that Potter's historic dioramas were not kept together, but the quirky display is being reassembled in an exhibition at the Museum of Everything in Primrose Hill, London co-curated by artist Sir Peter Blake.

The Spirit of Christmas Past is Alive and Well in England

Country house festivities that celebrate both Christmas and history are taking place throughout England this year. Whether you choose to spend Christmas in the 16th century or early 19th century, there's a venue that can provide the authentic feel of holidays past. 

Polesden Lacey (above) in Surrey was once owned by Mrs. Ronald Greville DBE, who was the daughter of Scottish brewing magnate. The grounds boast a gorgeous, walled rose garden, while the house, once also owned by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, was the venue for the honeymoon of the future King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. Today, visitors can enjoy Mrs Greville's collections, displayed in the reception rooms and galleries as they were at the time of her celebrated house parties. Cecil Beaton called Mrs. Greville "a galumphing, greedy, snobbish old toad," though it was said that her servants were devoted to her.

The Wellington Connection: Ice Skating in London

Active until the end, the Duke of Wellington was an advocate of exercise and fresh air. In a letter to Angela Burdett-Coutts, he sent the following encouragement:

"Don't repine! My Dear! that you are a Woman! There is nothing to prevent your skaiting; excepting the difficulty and want of opportunity now, possibly, of learning. But Women skait habitually in the Countries in which the Ice is certain annually, and in England I have seen Ladies skait beautifully. The best that I have seen, I think, is Lady Catherine Cavendish, and Her skaiting is admirable! But I have seen many who skait very well; as well at least as most Men . . . . "

  Ice skating became so popular in Scotland that the first skating club was established in Edinburgh in 1742. In 1848, E. W. Bushnell invented the first all-iron ice skate that could be clipped to a boot. During the 1800’s, the popularity of ice skating skyrocketed. Skating clubs opened in London, Vienna and New York and rinks were built in Toronto, Canada and Davos, Switzerland. In 1876, the first artificially frozen ice rink, called the Glaciarium, was opened in London by John Gamgee and was mechanically refrigerated. Figure skating was first included as an event at the 1908 Summer Olympics in London.  

A Gathering of Graces - Part Three

Torquhil Campbell, 13th Duke of Argyll - title created 1701. Additional titles: Marquess of Kintyre and Lorne, Viscount Lochow and Glenilla and Lord Morvern, Chief of Clan Campbell.

Family Pile: Inveraray Castle, Argyllshire.

History: The dukedom brings with it the the hereditary posts of Master of HM's Household in Scotland and Keeper of the Great Seal of Scotland.

The family suffered serious scandal in the Sixties, when the divorce proceedings of the 11th duke unearthed a famous photograph of his soon-to-be former wife with a mysterious naked man. Also introduced to the court was a list of eighty-eight men the Duke believed had enjoyed his wife's favours; the list is said to include two government ministers and three royals. The judge commented that the Duchess had indulged in "disgusting sexual activities".

The present duke, when not working in the whisky trade, is captain of the Scottish elephant polo team.

Holdings: Family owns 60,000 acres of Scotland, valued at £12.5m in 2001.

A Gathering of Graces - Part Two

Ralph Percy, 12th Duke of Northumberland - title created 1766. Additional titles include: Earl Percy, Earl of Beverley, Baron Warkworth.

Family Pile: Alnwick Castle, Northumberland.

Family Pile #2 - Syon Park, London

A Gathering of Graces - Part One

The Dukes: (from left to right) 1. James Graham, 8th Duke of Montrose; 2. David Manners, 11th Duke of Rutland; 3. John Seymour, 19th Duke of Somerset; 4. Ralph Percy, 12th Duke of Northumberland; 5. Andrew Russell, 15th Duke of Bedford; 6. Edward Fizalan-Howard, 18th Duke of Norfolk; 7. Torquhil Campbell, 18th Duke of Argyll; 8. Maurice FitzGerald, 9th Duke of Leinster; 9. Murray Beauclerk, 14th Duke of St Albans; 10. Arthur Wellesey, 8th Duke of Wellington.

In celebration of its 300th birthday last year, Tatler magazine rounded up some of the UK's twenty-four surviving Dukes to a lunch in St. James's, and ten accepted the invitation. Some of the remaining twenty-four Graces were either living abroad or too frail to make the journey. The group who attended was still the largest gathering of dukes since the Coronation of 1953 and until 1975 a quarter of the dukes were all related to each other, through either bloodlines or marriage. They are apparently still thick as thieves - the water served at the luncheon was bottled at the Duke of Marlborough's estate, Blenheim.

Here is an introduction to those ducal guests and a bit on their family history.

Leading Up to Jane Austen's Birthday...

Jane Austen’s 235th Birthday Celebration at JASNA GCR

Victoria here. On Saturday, December 4, 2010, a packed house of Jane Austen aficionados met at Chicago’s Fortnightly to celebrate her birth on December 16, 1775.

The Fortnightly, a woman’s club founded in 1873, was decorated for the holidays in a splendid array of tasteful sparkle.


Jane Hunt

The eager celebrants enjoyed a program begun by JASNA CGR Area coordinator Jeffrey Nigro of the Chicago Art Institute and Elisabeth Lenckos, of the University of Chicago. Jane Hunt, a member of the club and the JA society gave us a brief history of the organization, on E. Bellevue Place in the historic landmark Bryan Lathrop House in downtown Chicago.


Cathy Feldman introduced the afternoon’s speaker, Michaelangelo Allocca, also of the University of Chicago, who discussed: Are you Sure They Are All Horrid? Austen’s Degrees of Disagreeability.”

Mr. Allocca cited a number of uses of the word HORRID in Northanger Abbey, having at least three distinct definitions. When speaking of the gothic novels to which they were addicted, Catherine and Isabella use HORRID to mean wonderful, full of horror, awesome and meeting all their expectations. Later in the novel HORRID is used to mean bad in the sense of naughty or ungentlemanly behavior, and thirdly, to mean morally reprehensible and blameworthy.