Edith’s Surprise

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.

 

Today however, we are south of the Thames in the London suburb of Battersea. It is Wednesday, and is Edith’s half day off. Usually she spends it with her best friend and fellow maid-of-all-work, Hilda, who lives just around the corner from Cavendish Mews in Hill Street, where she works for Lettice’s married friends, Margot and Dickie Channon. Edith and Hilda usually spend Wednesday afternoons together, pleasurably buying haberdashery, window shopping or taking tea. Yet today Frank Leadbetter, Edith’s beau, who works as the delivery boy for Mr. Willison’s Grocer’s in Binney Street Mayfair, has managed to get the Wednesday afternoon off, and has asked Edith to spend the time with him. He has arranged a special surprise for edith, and it is here in Clapham Junction where Frank has joined Edith after meeting her Clapham Junction Railway Station*. Frank lives not too far from busy Clapham Junction in a boarding house run by his grim landlady, Mrs. Chapman.

 

Unsure whether Frank has plans to take Edith to tea, or a picnic, Edith has dressed smartly as her beau has requested. The pair exit the red and white banded brick Victorian railway station with its cupola corner tower and step out into the bright summer sunshine. Before them the busy high street shopping precinct of Clapham lined with four storey red brick houses with awning covered shops beneath each one stretches in each direction from the junction. The noisy thoroughfare chocked with a mixture of chugging motor cars, lorries and the occasional double decker electrical tram fills their ears with noise and their noses and mouths with fumes from the belching traffic. Even a few horse drawn carts with placid plodding old work horses unperturbed by the belching of their mechanical usurpers join the melee of trundling traffic going in either direction. People bustle past them on the footpath, going about their Wednesday business cheerily, many off to the grand haberdashery of Arding and Hobbs** which towers above them as they stand on the corner of the junction.

 

Edith looks across the road to the grand terrace of imposing buildings constructed in the late Nineteeth Century. Their canvas awnings fluttering in the breeze help to advertise a haberdashers, jewellers, lamp shops, a chemist, a boot repairer, grocers, butchers, bakers and even a milliner’s shop. “This way.” Frank says, leading his sweetheart along the high street until they reach a photography studio.

 

Frank shares Mrs. Chapman’s boarding house with a number of young men, including John Simpkin, who is the assistant to Mr. Bristol who runs a photography studio in Clapham Junction. John has recently finished his apprenticeship to Mr, Bristol, and is now a photographer in his own right, and this thus allowed to run the studio on his own on some days, like today. It is here that we find Edith and Frank, sitting in the waiting area in the shop front of the studio.

 

Edith looks around her at the fusty studio, which is still decorated in the more formal and overstuffed Edwardian style that was fashionable before the war. The walls are papered with green hangings featuring bunches of flowers divided by garlands of ribbons. Framed portraits of imperious middle-class matrons, proud shopkeepers and their families hang around the walls in gold and silver frames: some oval, others square, many plain, but a few quite ornate. The room’s floor is dominated by a large glass fronted display cabinet on top of which stands a gleaming glass cash register. The white venetian blinds and heavy moss green curtains with their round bobbles help to muffle the constant sound of traffic from outside.

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith gushes as she and Frank sit on the plush and slightly old fashioned and overstuffed softa awaiting John, who is setting up the studio behind the shop front. “This is such a wonderful surprise! I haven’t had my photograph taken since I was young.”

 

“I know.” Frank replies with a beaming smile.

 

“How do you know, Frank?” Edith asks, giving him a quizzical look.

 

“Well,” Frank replies, the smile falling from his face as he puffs out his cheeks and thinks. “I remember there are two photographs of you as a young girl on your mother’s mantlepiece.” he continues as he remembers seeing them sitting in brass frames in Ada’s front parlour on the day not so long ago that he finally worked up the courage to ask Edith’s parents, George and Ada, for their daughter’s hand in marriage.

 

“I didn’t think I’d taken you into Mum’s front parlour.” Edith replies ponderously. “We usually spend time in the kitchen.”

 

“Well… I…” Frank flushes red as once again he puffs his cheeks out.

 

The truth is that up until that fateful Sunday when he found himself seated in one of George and Ada Watsford’s uncomfortable, high backed barley twist Victorian chairs, Frank had never been shown into Ada’s cluttered front parlour, full of all her collected Victorian bric-a-brac.

 

“I suppose I must have when I first brought you home and showed you around the house.” Edith muses.

 

“Yes, that’s right!” Frank breathes a sigh of relief. “You showed me that day. Don’t you remember?”

 

“No, but I suppose I must have.” Edith replies. “Fancy you remembering our photographs from that day.”

 

“Well, you are my best girl, Edith.” Frank adds. “I’m interested in everything about you, including your childhood.” He then adds, as if trying to convince Edith of the fact he’s never been in Ada’s parlour except that one fictional time, “Of course I’ve never sat in there before.”

 

“Oh no. It’s only ever the Vicar or old Widow Hounslow, our mean and penny pinching landlady who get the pleasure of sitting in there.” Edith replies sarcastically. “Not that’s you’d want to sit on those awful chairs in there anyway.”

 

“Uncomfortable, are they?” Frank fishes, using the question to cover his own tracks.

 

“Oh yes! Be grateful you’ve never been subjected to sitting on one. They are horrible Victorian chairs with hard horsehair seats and a stiff button back!” Edith says with a scornful look as she remembers them for herself. “Mum used to make me sit on them when I was little to make sure I kept a straight back when I sat down.”

 

Frank looks at the posture of his sweetheart next to him now, observing her rather stiff and straight back as she perches on the edge of the rather sagging Edwardian sofa they share. “I see it worked, Edith.”

 

“I suppose I should be grateful to Mum, making me walk around with a book on my head, and forcing me sit in those chairs so that I wouldn’t develop a hunch,” Edith reminisces. “But at the time, I hated it so much, and I still hate those chairs now. It’s awfully stuffy and formal in her parlour anyway. I much prefer sitting in the kitchen. It’s more comfortable in there, even if the chairs aren’t padded.”

 

“So does that mean our front parlour isn’t going to be like your mum’s then, Edith?”

 

“Our front parlour? If we’re lucky enough to get one, most certainly it’s not!” Edith scoffs. “I want it to look lovely, but for it to be comfortable, like Miss Lettice’s is.” She nods at Frank. “I’ve been spoiled, seeing Miss Lettice and how she dresses the drawing rooms of her clients.”

 

“I don’t think we’ll be able to afford anything so grand as what Miss Lettice and her friends have.” Frank tempers his sweetheart. “I’m only a grocer’s delivery boy after all.”

 

“And part time window dresser.” Edith adds proudly. “And you won’t always be a grocer’s delivery boy. Not that I want anything as grand as Miss Lettice’s anyway, no matter what job you have. No, I just want something nice like I see in my magazines sometimes: a cosy room with two comfortable armchairs and a table or two to put my sewing basket on, and maybe a cabinet to put our best wedding china in.”

 

“Well, we might be able to afford something like that.” Frank agrees.

 

“And we don’t even have to wallpaper a room now, you know, Frank.”

 

“Don’t we Edith?”

 

“Not now. Miss Lettice told me that wallpaper like that which she orders from Jeffrey and Company*** can be frightfully expensive, especially for people like us, so they also produce frieze panels.”

 

“And what are they when they’re at home, Edith?” Frank laughs.

 

“Just what they sound like, Frank!” Edith retorts. “We could paint a room a nice crisp white or mushroom or oatmeal, and then just add some pretty frieze panels of paper along the top of the wall, or the top and bottom too if we could afford it. They produce ever such pretty patterns that look so smart, and they have so many that you can easily find a frieze to match your sofa or armchairs.”

 

“Sounds like the decoration of our home when we get wed is all taken care of, Edith.” Frank smiles a little nervously and rubs his clammy hands together distractedly.

 

“Oh yes!” Edith enthuses, her eyes sparkling. “You just leave all that to me, Frank.”

 

Their conversation is interrupted by a gentle clearing of the throat, as Frank’s friend, John the photographer, walks in from the photography studio behind and into the shop front where Edith and Frank wait. “Frank, Miss Watsford,” he says, bowing slightly . “I’m ready for you now.” Drawing back the Art Nouveau patterned velvet curtain hanging across the door with a dramatic gesture he continues, “Right this way, if you please.”

 

Edith glances at Frank, her face a mixture of excitement, anticipation and nerves, her blue eyes glittering.

 

“Best do what the man says, Miss Watsford.” Frank says with a bolstering smile of his own, putting out his own hand in a gesture for Edith to follow the photographer’s instructions.

 

They rise from their seats on the sofa and Frank follows Edith as she steps behind the glass topped and fronted counter full of framed portraits and formal cartes de visite**** and through under John’s arm into the photography studio. As Frank follows her, his friend gives his right shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Frank glances anxiously at him, but John smiles encouragingly back at him, and gives him an almost imperceptible nod.

 

“Goodness!” Edith exclaims. “I’d forgotten how crowded a photographic studio can be, Mr. Simpkin!”

 

She looks around her at the small studio which obviously also serves as an office for John and his employer, Mr. Bristol. Two desks sit in one cramped corner of the room, their surfaces littered untidily with piles of paperwork and sample photographs, whilst a large set of drawers running along a wall serves as a space to put together photograph albums and insert photos into frames as it too is littered with any number of portraits as well as a red and a blue leather photograph album and a box of miscellaneous frames in silver gold and bronze metal, some simple and others ornate.

 

“Spoken like a truly ordered person, Miss Watsford.” John laughs good naturedly.

 

“Oh!” Edith puts her lace gloved hand to her mouth. “I do hope I didn’t come across as disapproving, Mr. Simpkin. If I did, I certainly didn’t mean to.”

 

“Not at all, Miss Watsford. Mr. Bristol and I, like most photographers are naturally untidy, but only being the small studio we are, unlike Mr. Bassano’s***** studios, it is a little difficult to hide the mess from our clients. You aren’t the first to remark upon the general disorganisation in here, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

 

“This is your workplace, and I don’t wish to criticize how you choose to work.” Edith assures him. “Especially when you are doing us this great favour, taking our portraits, Mr. Simpkin.”

 

He beams a smile at her. “Oh I assure you, Miss Watsford, Frank is paying for your pleasure today.”

 

“Are these all photographs you have taken?” Edith asks, looking to the wall to her left where the old fashioned green Edwardian wallpaper decorated with garlands and flowers, the same as in the front of the studio premises, is covered with a mixture of framed and unframed photographs.

 

“Me and Mr. Bristol.” John clarifies. “Most of these are Mr. Bristol’s work. I’ve only recently become a full time photographer, but I did take that one with my trusty old Box Brownie******.” He indicates with pride to a photograph of four young women, taken not long ago judging by their modish cloche hats******* and knee length pleated skirts, each kicking up a leg in cheeky, joy filled playfulness. He then worries that he has drawn attention to the wrong kind of photograph for the pretty sweetheart of his friend and clears his throat awkwardly before adding, “Of course the more formal studio portraits were taken by Mr. Bristol and I, as well.”

 

Edith smiles as she looks at portraits of men and women of all ages, children, wedding photographs including several which must have been taken during wartime where the grooms are in uniform, and group portraits of people.

 

“How very skilled you and Mr. Bristol are, Mr. Simpkin.” Edith turns back to John and smiles. “How lucky I am that Frank knows you and your work well enough to have my portrait taken by you.”

 

“Well, it’s a pleasure, Miss Watsford.” John replies, blushing at the compliment paid him by Edith as he does.

 

John pushes a box of toys aside slightly with his foot and clears a space on the chest of drawers beneath the wall of photographs.

 

“Toys?” Edith queries.

 

“Err… for the little ones.” John elucidates. “They make good props, and are a valuable source of ways to distract children, or get them to smile.”

 

“Oh of course!” Edith laughs. “How silly of me not to realise.”

 

“Not at all, Miss Watsford.” John replies. “Now, if you’d care to remove your hat and gloves and put them here.” He pats on top of a pile of ornately patterned photograph boxes. “There’s a mirror just there if you’d like to check your hair and makeup.” He points to a small, gilded mirror hanging on the wall surrounded by photographs. “And if you’d care to just hang your coat over my desk chair.” He looks at Frank. “Frank, you can put your cap and hat there too if you like.”

 

As John busies himself, removing a salon chair and a glossy parlour palm in a large blue majolica******** jardinière from in front of a long, blue background sheet strung from a brass railing suspended from the ceiling by chains, Edith and Frank both stand before the mirror, vying for space to make sure that the look presentable.

 

“I was wondering why you specifically wanted me to wear my blouse with the Peter Pan collar*********.” Edith murmurs to her beau as she tugs at her hair, carefully arranging her honey blonde curls that has come loose from her chignon behind her ears.

 

“And now you know.” Frank replies, adjusting his tie. “It will stand out more in a photograph of the two of us. I like the rose you’ve chosen to wear too.” He nods approvingly towards the rich red fabric rose pinned at the base of her collar reflected in the glass.

 

“It’s from Mrs. Minkin’s.” Edith says proudly, referring to the haberdashery in Whitechapel that she shops at, thanks to the recommendation from Lettice’s charwoman**********, Mrs. Boothby. “I’ve been itching to wear it ever since I bought it, and I thought with the weather so beautifully summery, and with the surprise for today, perhaps being a picnic on Clapham Common*********** or tea in a nice tea rooms, I thought it might be nice to wear it.”

 

Frank gulps. “Yes… ahem!” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, I hope… I hope you will like your surprise.”

 

Edith turns around and faces her beau. “Whatever is the matter with you, Frank?” she asks, smiling happily, yet with a quizzical undertone as she lowers her lids and helps to straighten the collar of his jacket. “Of course I love my surprise! How could I not?” She laughs. “It isn’t every day I get to have my photograph taken, unlike Miss Lettice, for whom it is common being photographed for all the social columns, being a Bright Young Thing************ and all.”

 

Unnoticed by Edith as she fusses with Frank’s collar and tie, Frank glances over anxiously at his friend, who smiles silently and nods reassuringly again, giving him an encouraging wink.

 

“There!” Edith sighs with satisfaction as she finishes adjusting his lapels, steps back and admires her beau. “Very smart and handsome! You scrub up rather well, if I may be so bold as to say, Frank Leadbetter.”

 

“Only if I may be so bold as to say how fetching you look, Edith Watsford.” Frank replies.

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith gushes, blushing as she does so.

 

“Ahem!” John clears his throat. “Right this way you two, if you’d be so kind.” He indicates to the now clear space on a worn old Victorian Persian rug on the floor. I thought I might pose you two standing to begin with, and take a nice three quarter length photograph.”

 

“Of course, Mr. Simpkin.” Edith replies, stepping away from Frank and walking across the wooden floor of the studio, smoothing down her skirt as she does.

 

As Frank walks past John, John slips something discreetly into his right hand, to which Frank gives him a thankful look.

 

John stands in front of the camera, set atop a tall black painted metal tripod and peers down, looking at the upside down image of Edith and Frank through the viewfinder. “Now, Miss Watsford,” he directs. “I might have you stand a little to Frank’s right. And Frank, I might get you to stand in a bit closer, almost looking over Miss Watsford’s shoulder.” He gesticulates as the pair adjust themselves. “Good! Good! That’s right.” he says encouragingly. “And since this is a portrait of a young couple, Frank, why don’t you hold Miss Watsford’s hand.”

 

“Alright.” Frank says, licking his lips and breathing heavily.

 

“Frank!” Edith exclaims. “Are you quite sure you’re alright?” She glances across at Frank in concern.

 

“Me?” Yes!” he stammers. “Why?”

 

“You’re trembling, Frank.”

 

“Well… you see… I…” Frank begins. Then he moves his right arm from behind Edith’s back, and grasping her left hand more emotionally, looks at Edith.

 

“Frank?”

 

“Edith Watsford, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” Frank blurts out as quickly as he can before he loses his nerve. Without waiting for a response, he slips a silver ring, the object John had discreetly pressed into his sweaty palm as Frank passed him, onto Edith’s ring finger.

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith gasps in surprise, glancing down at the slender, plain band of shining silver. “Frank!”

 

“Will you, Edith?” He looks Edith squarely in the face, his own expression a mixture of fear and nerves, anticipation and excitement.

 

“Frank!” Edith looks her beau in the face too, her eyes shimmering with as of yet unshed tears.

 

“Please say you will, Edith! Please! I’ve had our names and 1925 engraved on the inside of the band.”

 

Edith shakes her head in disbelief, a broad smile cracking across her face as she does. “Oh Frank, yes!”

 

“You will?” Frank asks, almost in disbelief.

 

“Well of course I will Frank!” Edith laughs. “Who else on God’s green earth would I want to marry more than you! Yes! Yes! Of course, yes!”

 

“Oh hoorah!” Frank puts his arms around Edith’s waist, as instinctively she throws her arms around his neck. “Thank you Edith!” He picks her up and spins her around three times. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

 

“So that’s why you’ve been on pins and needles all day, Frank!” Edith laughs.

 

“Has it been that obvious, Edith?”

 

Edith nods, but smiles in delight, tears of joys pilling from her eyes as she does.

 

“I hope you like your surprise, Edith.” Frank murmurs.

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith replies, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a dainty lace handkerchief. “Of course I do! It’s the best surprise I’ve ever had.” She laughs: a mixture of nerves and relief as she realises that what she has been wishing and longing for, for so long, is now official, and a significant step closer to becoming a reality. “You know, Hilda said to me just this morning when we caught the train together from Down Street************* that today you might take me shopping for a wedding ring! And here you are, already organised with an engagement ring for me!”

 

“I bought it from a jewellers in Lavender Hill**************. I’m only sorry it’s not gold like those ones we saw in Schwar’s*************** up the Elephant****************, and only silver.”

 

“Oh, I don’t mind a bit, Frank! It’s beautiful!”

 

“I promise that you wedding ring will be gold, Edith. And like I said before, I had this ring engraved with our names and 1925, just to make it a bit more special.”

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith kisses her fiancée. “I shall treasure it always! Even if I can’t wear it whilst I’m working at Miss Lettice’s, I’ll hang it from a chain about my neck to stop it spoiling with all the hard graft I have to do, and I’ll wear it proudly on our days off together. That way I will always have the ring with me, and it will stay nice and shiny and beautiful!”

 

Standing behind his camera on its tripod, John smiles happily for his friend. “Congratulations, Frank. I wish you every happiness, Miss Watsford*****************.”

 

“The future Mrs. Leadbetter!” Frank exclaims in jubilation, spinning Edith again, making her squeal in delight.

 

As Frank stops spinning his newly minted fiancée, the pair pause and stand together. Frank drapes his right arm in a relieved fashion around Edith, allowing his hand to rest upon her waist as he pulls her closer. The pair put their heads together and look down as Frank holds up Edith’s left hand, smiling as if they were looking at a miracle rather than a simple band of silver. As they do, John depresses the shutter of the camera and captures the perfect photograph to commemorate the engagement of Edith Watsford and Frank Leadbetter.

 

*Clapham Junction is a major railway station near St John's Hill in south-west Battersea in the London Borough of Wandsworth. Despite its name, Clapham Junction is not in Clapham, a district one mile to the south-east. A major transport hub, Clapham Junction station is on both the South West Main Line and Brighton Main Line, as well as numerous other routes and branch lines which pass through or diverge from the main lines at this station. It serves as a southern terminus of both the Mildmay and Windrush lines of the London Overground.

 

**Arding and Hobbs was established in 1876. A second store was established on the corner of Falcon Road, Battersea, known as the Falcon Road Drapery Store, but this was sold to former employees Mr. Hunt & Mr. Cole in 1894. The original building was destroyed by a fire on 20 December 1909. The present building at the junction of Lavender Hill and St John's Road in Battersea was constructed in 1910 in an Edwardian Baroque style, and the architect was James Gibson. The department store was sold to the John Anstiss Group in 1938, however, John Anstiss was purchased by United Drapery Stores in 1948. The store was added to the Allders group in the 1970s and continued to operate until Allders went into administration in 2005. The building was subsequently broken up and sold, with the building split between a branch of Debenhams department store and TK Maxx retail.

 

***Jeffrey and Company was an English producer of fine wallpapers that operated between 1836 and the mid 1930s. Based at 64 Essex Road in London, the firm worked with a variety of designers who were active in the aesthetic and arts and crafts movements, such as E.W. Godwin, William Morris, and Walter Crane. Jeffrey and Company’s success is often credited to Metford Warner, who became the company’s chief proprietor in 1871. Under his direction the firm became one of the most lucrative and influential wallpaper manufacturers in Europe. The company clarified that wallpaper should not be reserved for use solely in mansions, but should be available for rooms in the homes of the emerging upper-middle class.

 

****The carte de visite (which translates from the French as 'visiting card') was a format of small photograph which was patented in Paris by photographer André Adolphe Eugène Disdéri in 1854, although first used by Louis Dodero in 1851.

 

*****Alexander Bassano was an English photographer who was a leading royal and high society portrait photographer in Victorian London. He is known for his photo of the Earl Kitchener in the Lord Kitchener Wants You army recruitment poster during the First World War and his photographs of Queen Victoria. He opened his first studio in 1850 in Regent Street. The studio then moved to Piccadilly between 1859 and 1863, to Pall Mall and then to 25 Old Bond Street in 1877 where it remained until 1921 when it moved to Dover Street. There was also a Bassano branch studio at 132 King's Road, Brighton from 1893 to 1899.

 

******The Brownie (or Box Brownie) was invented by Frank A. Brownell for the Eastman Kodak Company. Named after the Brownie characters popularised by the Canadian writer Palmer Cox, the camera was initially aimed at children. More than 150,000 Brownie cameras were shipped in the first year of production, and cost a mere five shillings in the United Kingdom. An improved model, called No. 2 Brownie, came in 1901, which produced larger photos, and was also a huge success. Initially marketed to children, with Kodak using them to popularise photography, it achieved broader appeal as people realised that, although very simple in design and operation, the Brownie could produce very good results under the right conditions. One of their most famous users at the time was the then Princess of Wales, later Queen Alexandra, who was an avid amateur photographer and helped to make the Box Brownie even more popular with the British public from all walks of life. As they were ubiquitous, many iconic shots were taken on Brownies. Jesuit priest Father Frank Browne sailed aboard the RMS Titanic between Southampton and Queenstown, taking many photographs of the ship’s interiors, passengers and crew with his Box Brownie. On the 15th of April 1912, Bernice Palmer used a Kodak Brownie 2A, Model A to photograph the iceberg that sank RMS Titanic as well as survivors hauled aboard RMS Carpathia, the ship on which Palmer was travelling. They were also taken to war by soldiers but by World War I the more compact Vest Pocket Kodak Camera as well as Kodak's Autographic Camera were the most frequently used. Another group of people that became posthumously known for their huge photo archive is the Nicholas II of Russia family, especially its four daughters who all used Box Brownie cameras.

 

*******The cloche hat or simply cloche is a fitted, bell-shaped hat for women that was invented in 1908 by milliner Caroline Reboux. They were especially popular from about 1922 to 1933. Its name is derived from cloche, the French word for "bell". The popularity and influence of cloche hats was at its peak during the early twentieth century. Couture houses like Lanvin and Molyneux opened ateliers to join milliners in manufacturing hats that precisely matched their clothing designs. The hats even shaped hairstyles: the Eton crop – the short, slicked-down cut worn by Josephine Baker – became popular because it was ideal to showcase the hats' shape.

 

********Majolica refers to tin-glazed earthenware decorated with vibrant colors on a white background, a style particularly known from Italian Renaissance pottery. It's also spelled maiolica, and the technique involves applying a tin-based glaze followed by colorful overglaze decoration. It became very popular again in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries when it was used to decorate large ornamental pieces like umbrella stands and jardinières.

 

*********A Peter Pan collar is a style of clothing collar, flat in design with rounded corners. It is named after the collar of Maude Adams's costume in her 1905 role as Peter Pan, although similar styles had been worn before this date. Peter Pan collars were particularly fashionable during the 1920s and 1930s.

 

**********A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.

 

 

***********At over eighty-five hectares in size, Clapham Common is one of London’s largest, and oldest, public open spaces, situated between Clapham, Battersea and Balham. Clapham Common is mentioned as far back as 1086 in the famous Domesday Book, and was originally ‘common land’ for the Manors of Battersea and Clapham. Tenants of the Lords of the Manors, could graze their livestock, collect firewood or dig for clay and other minerals found on site. However, as a result of increasing threats from encroaching roads and housing developments, it was acquired in 1877 by the Metropolitan Board of Works, and designated a “Metropolitan Common”, which gives it protection from loss to development and preserves its open character.

 

************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.

 

*************Down Street, is a disused station on the London Underground, located in Mayfair. The Great Northern, Piccadilly and Brompton Railway opened it in 1907. It was latterly served by the Piccadilly line and was situated between Dover Street (now named Green Park) and Hyde Park Corner stations. The station was little used; many trains passed through without stopping. Lack of patronage and proximity to other stations led to its closure in 1932. During the Second World War it was used as a bunker by the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, and the war cabinet. The station building survives and is close to Down Street's junction with Piccadilly.

 

**************Lavender Hill is a bustling high street serving residents of Clapham Junction, Battersea and beyond. Until the mid Nineteenth Century, Battersea was predominantly a rural area with lavender and asparagus crops cultivated in local market gardens. Hence, it’s widely thought that Lavender Hill was named after Lavender Hall, built in the late Eighteenth Century, where lavender grew on the north side of the hill.

 

***************Established in 1838 by Andreas Schwar who was a clock and watch maker from Baden in Germany, Schwar and Company on Walworth Road in Elephant and Castle was a watchmaker and jewellers that is still a stalwart of the area today. The shop still retains its original Victorian shopfront with its rounded plate glass windows.

 

****************The London suburb of Elephant and Castle, south of the Thames, past Lambeth was known as "the Piccadilly Circus of South London" because it was such a busy shopping precinct. When you went shopping there, it was commonly referred to by Londoners, but South Londoners in particular, as “going up the Elephant”.

 

*****************In more socially conscious times it was traditional to wish the bride-to-be happiness, rather than saying congratulations as we do today. Saying congratulations to a bride in past times would have implied that she had won something – her groom. The groom on the other hand was to be congratulated for getting the lady to accept his marriage proposal.

 

This cluttered photography studio, filled with all the paraphernalia for portrait taking, may look real to you, but it is not all it seems. It is in fact, made up entirely of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The gleaming black camera on its tripod with its bulbous depressor to take photographs comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

The dainty salon chair with its floral embroidered seat and back is part of a Marie Antionette suite with pretty floral upholstery which has been made by the high-end miniatures manufacturer, Creal.

 

The palm in its blue majolica jardinière on its stand also comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop, as does the screen to the left hand rear of the photograph, and the detailed Persian rug on the floor.

 

The photos seen on the desk in the foreground and plastering the wall in the background are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper. Most are made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The only exceptions are the round ones in black or gold frames, which come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop. The patterned boxes stacked on the chest of drawers in the background and the notes pinned to the walls also come from Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures. The boxes are filled with more photographs, correspondence and bills in 1:12 scale! The frames you can see around the room are almost all from Melody Jane’s Dollhouse Suppliers in the United Kingdom and are made of metal with glass in each.

 

The box of toys in the mid ground contains a hand painted clown who spins on a metal string between two pillars. He comes from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. In this case, Warwick Miniatures also painted it with precision detail. The teddy bear and the hobby horse both come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop.

 

The green baize covered card table is an artisan miniature, and also comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop.

 

The two photograph albums in the foreground, one blue and the other red come from Shepherd’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

The wallpaper is late Victorian in design and was sourced and printed by me.

 

This photo and chapter are dedicated to my Flickr friend, Mrs. Cynthia D. Worley Pogue www.flickr.com/photos/38319563@N07/ who sadly passed away on September the 18th. She loved these chapters each week, and never failed to follow what Edith or Lettice were up to. I am only sorry she did not live long enough to witness this happy occasion as Edith finally gets her wish as she becomes engaged to Frank. She will be sorely missed!

Done