A Musical Evening at Garstanton Park

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Yet we are far from London, returning to Wiltshire, where Lettice grew up at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie. Tonight however, we are not at Glynes, but rather on the neighbouring property adjoining the Glynes estate to the south and are at Garstanton Park, the grand Gothic Victorian home of the Tyrwhitts. Whilst not as old, or as noble a family as the Chetwynds, the Tyrwhitts have been part of the Wiltshire landed gentry for several generations and Lord and Lady Tyrwhitt are as much a part of county society as the Viscount and Countess of Wrexham. The current generation of the two families have grown up as friends with the Viscount and Countess of Wrexham often visiting Lord and Lady Tyrwhitt and conversely. In fact, the families have become so close that Leslie has become engaged to Lord and Lady Tyrwhitt’s only daughter, Arabella, thus guaranteeing a joining of the two great county families.

 

We find ourselves in the library cum music room of Garstanton Park, the preserve of Lord Sherbourne Tyrwhitt who has always had a voracious appetite for reading, and a great passion for music. In fact, his love of music was how he and his wife, Lady Isobel, met, after attending a piano concert at the newly opened Bechstein Hall* in London in 1899. The library cum music room’s walls are lined with floor to ceiling shelves full of Lord Tyrwhitt’s pride and joy, his enormous library, whilst on the rug covered floor stands his beloved Bechstein** piano covered with photos of his other pride and joy, his family. With the families now officially joined with the forthcoming nuptials of Leslie and Arabella formally announced, Lettice has been invited to a musical evening at Garstanton Park which she has happily agreed to, as she loves the company of Nigel, the Tyrwhitt’s eldest son and Arabella, as well as Lord and Lady Tyrwhitt, who like Gerald’s parents Lord and Lady Bruton, have been honourary uncles and aunts to her. The party is in full swing with cocktails, fortified wine and champagne aiding the high spirits as Nigel plays amusing music hall tunes on his father’s grand piano, accompanied by Arabella, Leslie and Lettice who stand about the piano, all taking turns to choose songs and be Nigel’s page turner as well as singing enthusiastically. The Bright Young Things*** can even occasionally get Lord Tyrwhitt, Lady Isobel and Lettice’s mother Lady Sadie to join in with a few of the less raucous songs.

 

“What shall we play next?” Arabella asks excitedly as she takes a drains her champagne flute.

 

“It’s your turn, old boy.” Nigel says to Leslie as he begins to limber up his fingers to play again.

 

“No, it’s not, Nigel! It’s mine!” cries Lettice.

 

“No it isn’t, Tice!” retorts her brother. “You chose ‘It's a Bit of a Ruin That Cromwell Knocked About a Bit.****’. It’s mine!”

 

“Oh, that was ages ago, Leslie.” Lettice pouts, snatching up her own glass of champagne and taking a sip from it.

 

Always the gentle adjudicator ever since they were children, Arabella says in a soothing purr, “Ages ago or not, Nigel’s right, it’s Leslie’s turn Tice.”

 

“You’re just standing up for him, Bella, because he is your intended now,” Lettice replies playfully.

 

“That’s not true!” laughs Arabella. “That’s jolly unfair!”

 

The two giggle together whilst Leslie shuffles through a pile of music sheets that lie in disarray across one of the comfortable gold striped armchairs next to the piano.

 

“It’s good to see your Leslie and our Bella looking so happy together,” Lady Isobel remarks with a wistfulness to her voice as she sits on the gold sofa that she shares with Lady Sadie. “I’m just sorry Cosmo couldn’t bear witness to it too this evening.”

 

“Oh now! Come, come my lamb,” Lord Tyrwhitt remarks kindly from his favourite reading chair in the corner of the room, reaching over his glass of rich burgundy and Lady Isobel’s champagne flute, gently squeezing his wife’s delicate hand with paper thin, almost translucent skin, comfortingly. “You mustn’t be sorry that our Bella is getting married. As the old adage goes, we aren’t losing a daughter, but gaining a son.”

 

“Oh I know Sherbourne. I’m not. I’m very happy for Arabella, oh, and Leslie too,” she adds quickly, looking across at Lady Sadie. “It’s just…”

 

“I know my dear Isobel,” Lady Sadie assures her friend, patting her on the other hand. “I felt the same when Lally married Charles. You don’t regret your daughters marrying, but you miss having them around the house.”

 

“Yes, that’s it, exactly Sadie. I shall miss her when she isn’t here any longer.” She sniffs and withdraws her hands from Sadie’s and her husband’s grasps, pulling a lace handkerchief from the long sleeve of her deep blue evening gown, hurriedly shoving it beneath her nose as she sobs, looking at Arabella leaning into Leslie as he lovingly drapes a protective arm around her whilst he fossicks through the sheet music with his free right hand.

 

“She won’t be far away, Isobel,” Lady Sadie assures her. “She’ll only be across the way in the Glynes Dower House. You can practically walk there.”

 

“It’s good of you to give them that to live in, Sadie.” Lord Tyrwhitt picks up his glass and cradles it thoughtfully in his hand.

 

“Oh, it’s a pleasure, Sherbourne. It’s only sitting there idol for now, and it will suit the two lovebirds to have a home of their own to begin with, before they inherit Glynes. Besides, it will be good to have someone living in the house until it’s ready for me.”

 

“Oh you mustn’t talk like that, Sadie!” Isobel gasps. “Cosmo is well, isn’t he?”

 

“Aside from the head cold that has kept him in bed for tonight, yes perfectly, Isobel. I’m just being pragmatic is all. It may happen one day. Besides, if Cosmo is to precede me and I am to become the Dowager Countess, I’d rather move into a house that isn’t decorated with his sister’s dreadful daubs!”

 

“But I thought Eglantine was quite an accomplished artist,” Lord Tyrwhitt remarks.

 

“It depends on your interpretation of art, Sherbourne” quips Lady Sadie.

 

“I always quite liked her watercolours of flowers when we were young.” he adds thoughtfully.

 

“You haven’t seen her work inspired by those Modernists at the Slade School of Art***** daubed all over the walls of the room she used as a studio during the war.” humphs Lady Sadie, screwing up her nose in distaste. “Sunset filled landscapes featuring twee characters dancing across it, supposedly influenced by the landscapes and folklore of Wiltshire. Morris Dancers, Stonehenge druids and white chalk horses.”

 

“Sounds rather intriguing to me,” Lord Tyrwhitt replies kindly.

 

“Naïve is what I call it!” retorts Lady Sadie with a snort of derision. “The liberties that woman took when she lived there during the war. Do you know that she brought her German staff with her and hid them in the Dower House?”

 

“They were Swiss-German, Sadie,” Lady Isobel corrects her friend. “And yes, I did know because I visited her at the Dower House.”

 

“They still spoke German,” argues Sadie. “She could have brought shame to the family, bringing potential German spies to Glynes like that.”

 

“And she only brought them to Glynes with her because she was afraid they would be, incorrectly,” Lady Isobel puts emphasis on the final word, pausing for effect, before continuing, “Labled as German spies, when in fact they were just simple Swiss domestics. Really Sadie! Next you’ll be saying there was a German recording device in Sherbourne’s Bechstein between 1914 and 1918! I’m surprised at your hostility to them.”

 

Lady Sadie’s eyes grow wide as she splutters in an unsuccessful defence, “They could have been spies, Isobel.”

 

“Well, I always liked Eglantine’s work,” Lord Tyrwhitt concludes, determined to change the subject. “Even if it isn’t to your taste, Sadie my dear.”

 

“You always had a soft spot for her Sherbourne, just like Cosmo did, and still does.” Lady Sadie scoffs. She turns to Lady Isobel. “She always was a beguiling creature with her Titian hair and green eyes. You’re lucky Sherbourne only had eyes for you, dear Isobel.”

 

“Sounds like someone else has green eyes,” remarks Lady Isobel under her breath with a secret smile, shared quietly with a loving glance at her husband.

 

“Aha!” Leslie cries triumphantly. “I have it!” He withdraws a sheet of music from amongst the pile. He hands it to Nigel.

 

“The Wibbly Wobbly Walk!******” laughs Nigel as he looks at the bright yellow and blue printed cover of the well worn sheet music. “Grand choice old boy! Bravo!” He opens the pages on the music stand in front of him. “Bella, will you do the honours?”

 

“Of course Nigel,” Arabella replies as she slips alongside him.

 

With a trill, Nigel gathers everyone’s attention and begins to play the piano as he sings the opening to the song.

 

“Now, have you ever heard about the Wibbley, Wobbley Walk?

Well, just in case you've not, I'll tell you on the spot!

The Wibbley, Wobbley Walk is just another kind of way,

Of saying that the b'hoys are out upon their holiday.

And note that half a dozen fellas out upon the spree,

In half a dozen minutes, they're full of jollity.”

 

Then with loud and carefree abandon, Lettice, Leslie and Arabella all join in on the chorus,

 

“So they all walk the Wibbley Wobbley Walk,

And they all talk the Wibbley Wobbley talk.

And they all wear Wibbley Wobbley ties,

And wink at all the pretty girls with Wibbley Wobbley eyes!

They all smile the Wibbley Wobbley Smile,

When the day is dawning!

Then all through the Wibbley Wobbley Walk,

They get a wibbley wobbley feeling in the morning.”

 

As they sing, Lady Isobel starts to cough, muffling her throaty gasps with her handkerchief so as not to disturb the fun and frivolity of the young people who stand oblivious about the piano. Quickly putting her hock and seltzer aside on the edge of the table being used for drinks, Lady Sadie wraps her arm around her friend, whilst Lord Tyrwhitt leans forward and takes her outstretched hand.

 

“Isobel!” Sadie gasps.

 

“Just try and catch your breath, my lamb.” Lord Tyrwhitt encourages his wife with a serious and steady gaze as he squeezes her fingers whilst her cough gets heavier and stronger.

 

“At the seaside health resort you see some gay old…” Nigel begins the first line of the next stanza of the song, but his voice falls away quickly and his fingers pause over the piano keys as he, Arabella, Lettice and Leslie all suddenly become aware of Lady Isobel’s coughing fit.

 

“Mummy!” gasps Arabella in horror, dropping the page of the music sheet and leaving Leslie’s and Nigel’s sides as she drops to her knees on the carpet before her mother. “Mummy!”

 

“It’s just another of your mother’s coughing fits, Bella my dear.” her father assures her. “Just give her a minute and she’ll be right as rain again.”

 

“Here Father, give her this!” Nigel hands a quickly poured glass of water to his father, which he gives to his wife.

 

Taking it gratefully in her shaking hand, Isobel takes a few gulps and sits back in her seat on the sofa, wheezing and still coughing, but less severely. She presses her free slender bejewelled hand to the beaded chest of her dress and gasps for air.

 

“Stand back everyone,” Leslie says urgently, gently pulling his fiancée away from the feet of her mother, backing away with Nigel and Lettice. “Let’s give Auntie Isobel some air.”

 

After a few tense moments, Lady Isobel has enough air in her lungs to wheeze weakly, “You’ll have to… get used… to calling me your mother-in-law… Leslie dear. People will… think it odd that… your aunt is… also your… mother-in-law.”

 

The party release a combined held breath and laugh with a mixture of nervous and relieved chuckles and titters at her remark.

 

“I told you she would be alright,” Lord Tyrwhitt says, smiling at his wife.

 

“I am,” she concurs, taking a larger mouthful of water. “But I think it is my signal to retire for the evening.” She swallows a few times. “I’m sorry to spoil the frivolity, but I hope you’ll forgive me.”

 

“Oh don’t be sorry, Mummy.” Arabella says, coming forward again and kneeling before her mother.

 

“You’re a good girl, Bella,” she pats her daughter’s hand with her own as the young girl’s rests on her knee. “You’ll make Leslie a very fine wife.”

 

“And don’t we know it,” Lady Sadie says with a rare broad smile. “If we don’t hear it enough from Leslie when we are at Glynes,” She looks to her son, who blushes at the remark. “Then we hear of your virtues from his father. You’ve won the hearts of the two most important men on the Glynes estate, my dear.” She reaches out and caresses Isobella’s chin lovingly with her fingers, gazing at her future daughter-in-law with genuine affection. “And mine.”

 

Lettice feels as though she has just been stung by a hot poker as she witnesses the gaze and gentle touch her mother lavishes upon her future daughter-in-law: such affection never bestowed upon her. Whilst she doesn’t resent Arabella, for she is a genuinely kind person and Lettice firmly believes her mother’s words that she will make a good wife for Leslie, it still hurts her that Arabella should be granted the approval she has so sorely sought from her mother throughout all her life.

 

“Now,” Lady Isobel announces. “Before I retire, I should very much like to hear you sing, dear Lettice. You have such a pretty voice, and I should like to hear something a little less irreverent played on your father’s beloved Bechstein, Nigel.”

 

“Yes Mummy!” Nigel laughs good naturedly.

 

“Come on Bella,” Lettice says, reaching out her hand to her friend. “Come help me pick out something that your mother will like.”

 

Whilst the two girls return to the piles of sheet music, Nigel to the piano and Leslie by his side, Lady Sadie and Lord Tyrwhitt look on with concern at Lady Isobel as she settles back into the pile of cushions at her back.

 

“It’s just a result of the radiotherapy******* Sadie, nothing to worry about.” Lady Isobel says with a dismissive wave of her hand.

 

“Is it helping with the cancer?” she asks.

 

“Who knows?” the other woman shrugs and lifts her hands, the sequined lace shawl falling from about her shoulders as she does so. “It makes me feel sick enough, and don’t they say that things you don’t like are good for you?” Looking over at her children and those of Lady Sadie, she continues, “I’d just like to live long enough to see Arabella, and Nigel married. I’m just thankful Lettice has offered to help Arabella shop for her trousseau up in London. I’m not well enough to make the journey up to town.”

 

“I don’t know if I’d be too happy that my youngest is helping her shop. Goodness knows what her trousseau will look like.” Lady Sadie remarks disparagingly.

 

“Something modern and young, I should imagine Sadie dear,” Lady Isobel replies. “Just as it should be.”

 

“Here we are!” Lettice announces as Arabella takes a book of music with a prettily decorated cover over to her brother at the piano. “Something a little less irreverent for Uncle Sherbourne’s piano and Aunt Isobel’s ears.”

 

There are conspiratorial whispers at the piano between brother and sister as Lettice comes to stand beside Nigel, resting her hand lightly on the piano’s surface before he begins playing the opening to ‘I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls’********.

 

With her beautiful singing voice, Lettice begins the opening stanza of the song.

 

“I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls

With vassals and serfs at my side.

And of all who assembled within those walls,

That I was the hope and the pride.

I had riches all too great to count,

And a high ancestral name.”

 

As she sings, Arabella nestles back into Leslie’s arms, Lord Tyrwhitt cradles his glass of wine without drinking it and Lady Sadie leans forward in her seat, proud of her daughter’s musical accomplishment, although she would never admit it to her.

 

Shrewdly observing Nigel’s occasional gaze at Lettice as he plays and she sings, Lady Isobel leans forward and whispers discreetly to Lady Sadie, “I don’t suppose there is any chance that your Lettice might take a shine to our Nigel?”

 

“If that ship was to sail, it would have happened long before now, Isobel, and well you know it.” Lady Sadie turns to her friend, a consoling look in her eyes, “I’m sorry my dear, but as you saw at the Hunt Ball, Lettice seems to have turned her attentions to the Duke of Walmsford’s eldest, Selwyn Spencely, and I’m not unhappy about that.” Turning back to her daughter, her mouth twists with disapproval. “Even if she insists on managing her romantic attentions herself, rather than leaving it to me. Marriages are made by mothers, you silly girl.”

 

“Yes,” sighs Lady Isobel heavily. “I did notice where here attentions went that night. I’m pleased for you Sadie, and hope that it all works out. Imagine your youngest one day, a duchess. I on the other hand, would just like to see Nigel settled to some nice young lady of any respectable rank or station before I die.”

 

“And you will, Isobel. I’m sure of it. Perhaps another Season in London might help now that the Season is back in full swing after the war.”

 

The two women turn back as Lettice as she finishes the song.

 

“But I also dreamt which charmed me most

That you loved me still the same

That you loved me

You loved me still the same,

That you loved me

You loved me still the same.”

 

*Wigmore Hall is a concert hall located at 36 Wigmore Street, London. Originally called Bechstein Hall, it specialises in performances of chamber music, early music, vocal music and song recitals. It is widely regarded as one of the world's leading centres for this type of music and an essential port of call for many of the classical music world's leading stars. With near-perfect acoustic, the Hall quickly became celebrated across Europe and featured many of the great artists of the 20th century. Today, the Hall promotes 550 concerts a year and broadcasts a weekly concert on BBC Radio 3. The Hall also promotes an extensive education programme throughout London and beyond and has a huge digital broadcasting arm, which includes the Wigmore Hall Live Label and many live streams of concerts.

 

**C. Bechstein Pianoforte AG (also known as Bechstein), is a German manufacturer of pianos, established in 1853 by Carl Bechstein (1826 – 1900).

 

***The Bright Young Things, or Bright Young People, was a nickname given by the tabloid press to a group of Bohemian young aristocrats and socialites in 1920s London.

 

****’It's a Bit of a Ruin That Cromwell Knocked About a Bit’ is a song written by Harry Bedford and Terry Sullivan sung by the famous British music hall performer Marie Lloyd in the early 1900s.

 

*****Established by lawyers and philanthropist Felix Slade in 1868, Slade School of Fine Art is the art school of University College London and is based in London, England. It has been ranked as the United Kingdom’s top art and design educational institution. The school is organised as a department of University College London's Faculty of Arts and Humanities. Two of its most important periods were immediately before, and immediately after, the turn of the twentieth century. It had such students as Dora Carrington, Mark Gertler, Paul Nash, C.R.W. Nevinson and Stanley Spencer.

 

******’They All Walk the Wibbly Wobbly Walk’ is a song written by Paul Pelham and J. P. Long sung by the famous British music hall performer Mark Sheridan in 1912. It was a song often sung during the Great War, and associated by the British general public with the survivors of the conflict who trembled due to shell shock or had misshapen walks thanks to injuries inflicted upon them.

 

*******By the 1920s radiotherapy was well developed with the use of X-rays and radium. There was an increasing realisation of the importance of accurately measuring the dose of radiation and this was hampered by the lack of good apparatus. The science of radiobiology was still in its infancy and increasing knowledge of the biology of cancer and the effects of radiation on normal and pathological tissues made an enormous difference to treatment. Treatment planning began in this period with the use of multiple external beams. The X-ray tubes were also developing with replacement of the earlier gas tubes with the modern Coolidge hot-cathode vacuum tubes. The voltage that the tubes operated at also increased and it became possible to practice ‘deep X-ray treatment’ at 250 kV. Sir Stanford Cade published his influential book “Treatment of Cancer by Radium” in 1928 and this was one of the last major books on radiotherapy that was written by a surgeon.

 

********"I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls", or "The Gipsy Girl's Dream", is a popular aria from The Bohemian Girl, an 1843 opera by Michael William Balfe, with lyrics by Alfred Bunn. It is sung in the opera by the character Arline, who is in love with Thaddeus, a Polish nobleman and political exile. It became a stalwart in the repertoire of young Victorian and Edwardian girls who often learned to play the piece on the piano and to sing it, if they had the aptitude for the latter.

 

Cluttered with books and with art on the walls, Garstanton Park’s library cum music room with its typical English country house furnishings is different from what you might think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures from my collection, including pieces from my own childhood.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The majority of the books that you see lining the shelves of the library cum music room are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Ken Blythe was famous in miniature collectors’ circles mostly for the miniature books that he made: all being authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. However, he did not make books exclusively. He also made other small pieces like the sheet music you see scattered on the carpeted floor and across the arm and seat of the armchair closest to the camera. The book that rests upright against the armchair is a book of romantic ballads published in 1805. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make these miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago and through his estate courtesy of the generosity of his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

The grand piano and matching stool appearing in the midground is a 1:12 miniature piece I have had since I was a teenager. It is covered in family photos, all of which are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are from various suppliers, but all are metal. The very lifelike daffodils are made of polymer clay they are moulded on wires to allow them to be shaped at will and put into individually formed floral arrangements. They are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany. The empty champagne and wine glasses all of which are made of hand blown glass were made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The full glasses of champagne and red wine were made by Karen Lady Bug Miniatures in England.

 

The soda siphons on the silver tray to the left of the photo were made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering, whilst the container of ice and tongs is made by M.W. Reutter Porzellanfabrik in Germany, who specialise in making high quality porcelain miniatures. The silver champagne bucket is made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The bottle of Deutz and Geldermann champagne. It is an artisan miniatures and made of glass and has real foil wrapped around its neck. It was made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.

 

The chairs and sofa in the library cum music room are made by the high-quality miniature furniture manufacturer, Bespaq. The ebonised ornate occasional table I acquired Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom as I did the table in the foreground on which the drinks tray stands.

 

The carpet beneath the furniture is hand made by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney, Australia.

In the background you can see the book lined shelves as well as a Renaissance portrait of a young nobleman in a gold frame from Marie Makes in the United Kingdom, and a hand painted blue and white ginger jar from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom which stands on a Bespaq plant stand.

 

The gold flocked Edwardian wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

Done