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My old works are here: www.flickr.com/photos/chocolate-cheese/
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The chess pieces are nearly the same colour tones as brown bear. I think Teddy Bears are like hugs, and every Tuesday should be hug day.
Happy Teddy Bear Tuesday
...we were not playing chess...we were just playing with our cameras, taking different shots and angles and lighting of this chess set that leck bought from another planet..
Enjoy the rest of you weekend, my Flickr prens.
A month ago, I posted an image of this chess board, and said I would post another one later, because to me, it's just such a beautiful set. This one was taken with my 100mm macro lens and I used focus stacking.
I'm back from our time away and will do my best to catch up on your latest images. We had a lovely time with family and friends.
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.
Tonight however we are at Rippon Court, the ancient sprawling house and family seat of Sir John Nettleword Hughes, buried deep within his vast estate in Bedforshire. Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.
Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John, and his sister Clemance have motored over from Lettice’s family home of Glynes in Wiltshire to host the Rippon Hunt. Being a keen hunter, His Royal Highness, Prince Edward, the Prince of Wales has sent word to Sir John that he and a party of his equally enthusiastic foxhunting friends wish to participate in the Rippon Hunt, so Sir John has cut short his sojourn to Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, near to his fiancée’s family seat and has reluctantly returned to his sprawling, draughty and slightly tumbledown, dreaded childhood home to host the Prince in a few days’ time. The Prince has also expressed his express wish to reacquaint himself with Lettice, now that she is Sir John’s fiancée, so she is playing hostess to His Royal Highness, and as the future Lady Nettleford Hughes, has been bestowed the honour of handing out the trophies. Clemance is attending as chaperone.
Lettice looks at all the silverware arranged on the ancient and thick grey oak beam mantle above the fireplace made from stones excavated from the site of the country house. Trophies large and small gleam in the dull, wintery January light streaming through the window, and the electrified lights of the baronial style* chandelier overhead. Large trophies with sinuous handles and finial topped lids, chargers** and bowls with ornate repoussé*** work jostle for space alongside smaller Eighteenth Century style tankards and jugs and even a few horse figurines. All of them proudly show Nineteenth Century dates on them and mention different chases, hunts and meets along with the names of Sir and Lady Nettleford-Hughes, Sir John’s parents.
Lettice reaches out her hand gingerly and strokes the moulded mane of a rather proud looking horse trophy, the metal cold beneath her fingers. Somewhere outside, a fox barks in the garden, breaking the suffocating silence of the drawing room which is punctuated by the deep sonorous ticking of a grandfather clock and the occasional crackle and spit of the wood logs burning in the grate. She shivers as she wonders whether the fox outside the window will be the hunted prey of the Prince’s hounds in a few days time.
“Ghastly, aren’t they?” comes a voice from the doorway leading from the passage outside.
Lettice gasps and snatches her hand away as she turns and sees Clemance standing in the doorway, a tiara of diamonds sparkling in her greying mousey blonde waves, her figure draped in a sleeveless fur trimmed evening cloak of crushed red velvet. “Clemance!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Lettice my dear.” Clemance apologises, raising her white elbow length glove clad hand to her lips. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh no… you didn’t,” Lettice stammers. I was just.. it’s…”
Clemance chuckles sadly. “Even after decades of absence from it, I’m so used to this gloomy old pile of bricks, woods and stone, that I forget what it must be like for a first-time visitor to Rippon Court.”
“You just startled me, was all,” Lettice manages to explain.
“I even remember the smell of this old place.” Clemance goes on with a dreamlike lilt to her voice, seemingly not having heard Lettice’s response. “Fancy that.” She drifts across the room, skirting the edges of the Knole sofa**** and various occasional tables, her white satin tango shoes***** sinking into the thick old-fashioned Victorian Turkish******* rug beneath her feet. “Aren’t they awfully vulgar en masse?” she asks, indicating to the trophies as she steps up beside Lettice.
“Well,” Lettice remarks. “They are very impressive.”
“Ahh,” Clemance responds with her eyebrows arching. “They are a tribute to Nettie’s and my parents and their ghoulish love of bloodsports. You may recall, when we were in the Tuileries********, dear Lettice, that I mentioned to Léonie Dupont that our parents were born on horses.”
“Yes, I do remember that.” Lettice acknowledges.
“Father was always a fine rider, a mad keen steeplechaser********* and bloodthirsty hunter.” Clemance shudders. “Mother was too. They couldn’t understand why Nettie didn’t enjoy, nor have the aptitude for, the outdoor sports they embraced with such gusto. When Nettie was blooded********** after his reluctant participation in a hare coursing**********, he came home awash with tears, and rather than being proud of him, our father was quite the opposite, and it sent him into one of his rages.”
“Poor John.”
“Poor Nettie indeed,” Clemance agrees. “I was lucky. I was just ‘the daughter’, an aberration to be gotten rid of and married off at the earliest opportunity.”
“Surely you parents didn’t think that if you Clemance?” Lettice exclaims.
Clemance gives Lettice a doubtful look as she screws up her face. “They did.” she replies simply. “You are lucky Lettice. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your parents now, and whilst I do consider your mother to be a little old-fashioned in her outlook towards women and their role in post-war society, your father and his attitudes towards his daughters, you in particular, makes my father look like a positive neanderthal************. You and your siblings can be in no doubt that you are loved. I suffered the tragedy of being born a female in my household. Neither of my parents had time for a daughter, especially a bookish one like me. I was tolerated, but generally ignored and neglected, which was perhaps just as well.”
“How can you say that, Clemance?” Lettice exclaims. “Being neglected is a great tragedy.”
“Because whilst I was being ignored, I could fairly much do as I pleased, so I was able to read the books in my father’s library that he never read: the books that his grandfather, a gentleman of the Enlightened Age************* saw fit to procure. By the time I was old enough to be noticed, and packed off to the von Nyssens in Charlottenburg to be finished off, I was so well read about the world that my parents would have been horrified, had they known. Being toadies towards Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, they doubtless hoped that through the von Nyssens, I would meet some dull German grand duke: a Mecklenburg-Strelitz************** or a Mecklenburg-Schwerin***************.” She smiles wistfully. “What they didn’t reckon on was me meeting a wealthy Bostonian Francophile heir to a corsetry empire visiting friends in Charlottenburg. My parents couldn’t complain of a love match when Harrison’s prospects were so good.”
“Well, you were lucky then.” Lettice agrees.
“And now Nettie is able to marry for love too,” Clemance says gaily. “And without our parents being alive, there is no-one to stand in his way.”
Lettice tries not to let the discomfort she feels at the mention of a love match between she and Sir John show. Their engagement is based on anything but love, but idealistic Clemance is unaware of the arrangement Lettice has made with her brother, nor is she aware of any of his string of sexual liaisons he has had and currently has with actresses and chorus girls on either side of the English Channel.
Blissfully unaware of the inner tumult she has caused Lettice, Clemance goes on, “And how do you like your room, Lettice my dear?”
“Oh it’s,” Lettice begins as she tries to think of a polite way to couch her room in Rippon Court. “Very grand, Clemance.”
“Always the diplomat.” Clemance chuckles. “Please, let’s sit,” She indicates to a vacant chair by the fire to Lettice with a sweeping gesture. “Nettie won’t be long, and then we can have an apéritif together before going in to dinner.”
After the two have settled themselves in their respective seats, smoothing out their dinner frocks and straightening their necklaces, Clemance goes on. “Be honest, Lettice my dear. It’s a shocking room, isn’t it?”
“Oh I wouldn’t say shocking.” Lettice replies in defence of her accommodation. “I’m sure in the summer months it isn’t anywhere near so gloomy as it appears now, but it is rather draughty and cold, even with the fire the maid lit in the grate.”
“Yes, and like every other bedroom in this god forsaken house, it has an appallingly lumpy mattress. However, it really is quite the nicest of the guest bedrooms Rippon Court has to offer.”
Lettice ponders for a moment, glancing around the room at the heavy and dark stained old furniture, paintings of horses, cattle and dogs and formal – rather than comfortable – chairs and sofas, before saying, “I don’t understand Clemance.”
“Hhhmmm?” Clemance queries from her Knole seat. “What don’t you understand, Lettice my dear?”
“I don’t understand why, with all his fortune, John hasn’t tried to… well, buck the place up a little with some fresh paint and more comfortable furnishings.” She paused for a moment. “I mean, I’m not suggesting that he instal ducted heating, or a bathroom for every bedroom, but maybe a few more creature comforts. Having seen his Belgravia town house and Fontengil Park, I know how tasteful his interiors are. Rippon Court doesn’t strike me as John’s style at all.”
Clemance chuckles again before staring off into the golden orange flames licking around a great chunk of wood taken from the heaped basket by the stone fireplace. “Well, as you might have worked out, Lettice my dear, Rippon Court isn’t exactly Nettie’s favourite place, nor mine for that matter.”
“No,” Lettice replies. “I didn’t know that. I just thought that being further south, and closer to London, John preferred Fontengil Park and the Wiltshire countryside.”
“Oh he does,” Clemance concurs. “And Fontengil Park is so much more compact and comfortable than this draughty old place, and as you have noted, being the astute interior designer that you are, far more to his tastes.”
Lettice looks across the petit-point footstool, strewn with magazines and periodicals about country pursuits, to Clemance, who suddenly seems to have lots her vitality and looks a decade older than when the three of them left Glynes to trave up to Rippon Court. As she sits languidly in her seat, it seems as though the house has absorbed her essence, and even her beautiful cape to keep out the cold and draughts seems now to hang off her, rather than sit elegantly across her delicate shoulders.
“Why do you and John not like Rippon Court, Clemance?”
Clemance sighs, her shoulders rising and falling, before going on without taking her gaze away from the fire. “Rippon Court holds no good memories for either of us, Lettice my dear, unlike your own dear Glynes, which is a childhood home of happiness.”
“What happened?”
“Well, you heard me say just before that I was the lucky one, being bundled off to Germany to be married off to a grand duke.” When Lettice nods, even though Clemance is not looking at her, she senses Lettice’s movement and she continues, “Poor Nettie being the heir, didn’t have such an easy time. Both my parents enjoyed outdoor pursuits. Imagine their horror when they found themselves lumbered with a son who was as equally bookish as me.”
“They didn’t approve of John’s more academic inclination, then?”
Clemance sucks in a deep and awkward breath, turns and looks at Lettice with screwed up lips and a painful look in her eyes. “No, they were not!” She releases her pent-up breath. “They were horrified: disgusted.”
“By John’s intelligence?”
“Our mother most certainly wanted a stupid son: one who would enjoy the pursuits they did, and who would look fine on horseback and cut a dashing figure like our father did when he was young. Our father didn’t understand Nettie, and nor did he try.”
“But there is a chess set over there.” Lettice points to a gleaming metal chess set, set up on an ivory and ebony inlaid board between two chairs, ready to be used. “They must have had some intellectual interests, or enjoyed strategic games at least.”
“It was all for show, Lettice my dear. The books in Father’s library, the chess set. It was all meant to give the veneer of intelligence and civility, but in truth, our parents were dolts, and brutish ones at that.” Clemance’s look grows darker. “Do you remember me telling Léonie Dupont in the same story about our parents ands how different Nettie and I were to them, that we’d bribe our governesses when we were children with promises of good behaviour and no procrastination at bedtime to lie to our parents and say they hadn’t seen us when they came looking for either Nettie or both of us to join in the hunt.”
“I do. You mentioned you used to hide in a tower here, where you used to keep some books.”
“The Book Tower, we called it,” Clemance says wistfully. “You must remind Nettie to show it to you, Lettice my dear.”
“I hope he will.”
“Well, what I didn’t share with Léonie and Marcel, was the darker side of the tale. When we were found out by our parents, they both used to beat us for not being the children they wanted. Mother used a riding crop, and Father’s favourite was a leather strop*************** he used to sharpen his cutthroat razors**************** with. I took thrashings from them both, but for every one of mine, there were four or more for poor Nettie. Many was an evening when we would go to bed, sore and sorry, because we were caught reading or performing some other perceived misdemeanour by our furious parents. The slightest infraction…” Her voice trails off.
“That’d horrible, Clemance!” Lettice exclaims in horror. “I am truly sorry that this shared history has been suffered by you both, and at the hands of your parents!”
“I told you, Lettice. You are lucky. You have kind and caring parents, who love you.”
“Why did John receive more beatings than you, Clemance?”
“Because my dear, Nettie’s pursuits were considered to be undignified of the son of Sir Roderick and Lady Agnes Nettleford-Hughes. Appreciation of literature, music and the arts were far too sissified***************** for them. If he wasn’t going to give them up willingly, they would have to thrash it out of him.” Clemance sighs deeply again, just as one of the logs finally breaks, collapsing in two pieces into the grate with a swish and a soft and hollow thud. “And that was when Nettie changed. He didn’t break under their will, but rather grew steelier, and stronger. He learned to keep his inner self and desires hidden from public view at all costs. It was a coping mechanism, a survival instinct. Long after I’d gone to Germany, and then after I was married and lived in France, Nettie still used the Book Tower to hide the things he truly loved, and he filled it with his paints and books. It was only after our father finally died, he was preceded by our mother by more than a decade, that Nettie truly came out of his shell.” Clemance falls silent and thinks. “Even now, I’m sure there are still things that he doesn’t share with me.”
“Why do you think that, Clemance?” Lettice ventures, knowing full well that there is truth in what her future sister-in-law says. “You’re so close.”
“We are close, Lettice, but after I was sent away and then married, a wedge was formed between us. We had been bound before that by a shared experience, an experience I then escaped, and of course the pressure mounted for Nettie to conform, to bend to the will of our parents as the heir, pressure I never had as the unwanted daughter.”
The two fall into an awkward silence, with only the deep ticking of the clock and the rumble of one of the half burned logs settling a little more in the hearth.
“I do think that is why Nettie never married before now, you know.”
“Because of your parents?” Lettice asks.
“Yes. They would never have approved of you as chatelaine of this house, Lettice my dear, much less their heir’s spouse. You would have been far too well read, refined and appreciative of the finer things in life.”
“I enjoy country pursuits as well, you know, Clemance.” Lettice defends. “I was born in Wiltshire, after all, and I do ride horses.”
Clemance tilts her head and looks at Lettice thoughtfully, observing her as she sits opposite her in the elegant tube frock of soft French blue***************** designed by Gerald that so flatters her pale skin and blonde tresses and fits her frame like a glove. Lettice’s soft Marcelled waves******************* are affixed by winking diamond pins, and a necklace of diamonds she recognises as belonging to her maternal grandmother rests across her collar bones.
“However, I don’t imagine when you meet His Royal Highness in a few days’ time, that tweed is all you will wear, Lettice my dear.”
“Certainly not!” Lettice raises her evening glove clad hand to her throat. “I will of course wear a tweed suit suitable for the occasion, but I have that lovely silk scarf you saw me buy in Paris at my throat, the loveliest diamond and pearl studded platinum brooch on my lapel. I also have a natty little hat to wear at a jaunty angle.”
“And that, my dear, is why you would never have received my parents’ approval.” Clemance smiles. “You may be from the country, but Wiltshire with all its refined tastes is a far cry from my parents and their parochial view of the world. Mother would never have let jewellery, or a silk scarf however elegant, clutter her tweeds or hunting attire.”
“But John approved my choices, Clemance.” Lettice defends. “He even leant me the brooch, which was one of your grandmother’s, he tells me.”
“Of course he approves, Lettice my dear,” Clemance smiles. “Because unlike our parents, he has style and panache, and he recognises that in you. I’m sure His Highness will approve when he sees the way you are attired too. And Nettie has chosen you, Lettice my dear.” She reaches out to Lettice, who reflects her stance, reaching out her own hand to Clemance, who grasps it tightly and squeezes it. “Finally, he has someone with whom I hope he will share all his experiences, even the more difficult ones in his life. I cannot tell you how happy I am that after so many years of bachelorhood, that Nettie is finally choosing to marry.” She lets Lettice’s hand go and sinks back into her seat. “I couldn’t be happier. I worried that he would never have anyone he deemed worthy of his love and affection, and then, you appeared.” She laughs lightly.
Lettice suddenly feels pangs of guilt as she realises that, of course, Clemance has no more of an idea than Sir John does, that she is doubting her pending nuptials******************** to the man. She senses the colour draining from her face, however she is saved from Clemance’s potential scrutiny by a gentle tapping at the door to the drawing room before Huntley, the Rippon Court butler, steps in with a silver salver in his hand, clearing his throat as he does.
“Yes? What is it, Huntley?” Clemance asks.
“Beg pardon, Mrs. Pontefract, but Mr. Jenkins’ lad has just cycled up from Potton*********************.”
“And what of it, Huntley?” Clemance asks, unable to hide the irritation at being disturbed for such a seemingly illogical reason by the manservant.
“Well, the Jenkins boy works for Mr. Snape the postmaster, and he has cycled up here with a telegram for Miss Lettice.” the Butler nods with difference toward Lettice.
“Me?” Lettice queries.
“Yes, Miss.” Huntley replies, walking across the room and up to where Lettice sits, holding out the salver to her, presenting her with the telegram envelope and a thin silver letter opener with an ivory handle.
Lettice picks up the envelope and using the opener’s sharp blade expertly, she slits it open with a crisp tear. She deposits the opener back on the tray, and withdrawing the telegram, she quickly scans it. From Gerald it reads, ‘Hope you arrived safely. STOP. No news from Pinkerton yet. STOP. Stay strong and Good luck. STOP. Gerald. STOP’.
“Nothing serious, I hope,” Clemance says, sitting forward in her seat, a look of concern on her face as she observes Lettice’s own face that is crumpled in concentration.
Thinking quickly, Lettice assures her, “No. No. It’s from Gerald, just wishing us a pleasant stay, and telling me that he is returned from Sylvia’s.”
“Oh, that’s very good of him.” Clemance replies, smiling cheerfully as she settles again. “I do like your friend Gerald.”
“Ahem. Beg pardon, Miss.” Huntley says, clearing his throat politely. “Jenkin’s lad is in the kitchen.”
“Make sure Mrs. Tabner gives him something to eat for his trouble, cycling all the way up here in the cold, won’t you, Huntley.” Clemance interrupts.
“Yes, Ma’am.” the butler replies. “He is waiting to see if there is a reply, Miss.” he addresses Lettice.
“Oh, tell him, no, Mr. Huntley.” Lettice replies. “I’m sure he’ll be glad not to have to cycle back up here from the village with further telegrams.”
“Very good, Miss.” Mr. Huntley replies as he starts to retreat.
“Oh, would you put that on my dressing table in my room, Huntley.” Lettice asks him.
“Very good, Miss.” he replies, accepting the telegram in its envelope from Lettice in his white glove clad hand before retreating.
“Evening Huntly,” Sir John’s voice booms from the corridor.
“Good evening, Milord.” Huntley replies obsequiously.
Then Sir John enters the room, dressed in a fine Jermyn Street********************** tailored set of tails, cutting a very dashing figure. “Good evening. Lettice my dear, Clemmie.”
Both ladies green Sir John as he wends his way though the Victorian clutter of the room until he stands next to Lettice. She graciously allows him to kiss her on the lips with a quick peck, before moving on to Clemance and kissing her on her proffered right cheek*********************** lightly before doing the same on her left.
“And how are we this evening?” he asks brightly. “Was that a telegram I saw in Huntley’s hand just now?”
“It was John dear,” Lettice answers. “It was just from Gerald.”
“No bad news I hope.”
“No,” Lettice assures him. “He was only making sure that we all arrived here safely.” she lies.
“You know, I never really liked him very much at first, Lettice my dear, but after Sylvia’s house party at her country cottage, he’s grown on me, and I’ve come to realise that he is a good man, is Gerald. Especially to you, Lettice.”
“Well, he’s my oldest chum from childhood.” Lettice replies. “We’ve grown up together and he knows me better than I think my own siblings do.”
“I was just saying how nice Gerald is, dear Nettie.” Clemance agrees. “He’s such a lovely chap.” She turns her attentions back to Lettice. “I just need to figure out how to convince your mother to giving her approval to him making your wedding frock. I don’t know why Sadie is being so stubborn about it Lettice my dear. I know how much it means to you. Surely she does too!”
Lettice doesn’t answer, but feels the flush in her cheeks as she blushes at the mention of the wedding frock.
Luckily, she doesn’t have to say anything before Sir John speaks up. “Ready for dinner? I am! I must confess the drive over from Glynes has made me ravenous.”
“I was just talking to Lettice about the house, ghastly old pile that it is,” Clemance goes on. “But I did mention the Book Tower as the haven it was for us when we were children. You must show it to Lettice whilst we’re here you know, if she is to be chatelaine of the house.”
“Yes, I’m very keen to see it, John my dear.” Lettice says gently, her heart filled with a sudden flush of compassion as she considers all that Clemance has revealed about how poorly her fiancée was treated by his parents.
“That’s a capital idea, Clemmie darling!” Sir John enthuses. I’ll show you tomorrow, Lettice my dear. I know you’ll like it.”
“Thank you John.” Lettice replies.
In the hallway outside, a sonorous boom of the dinner gong can be heard as Huntley hits it with his fabric wrapped striker.
“Right!” Sir John says brightly. “Shall we go into the dining room then?”
*Baronial style, primarily Scottish Baronial, is a Nineteenth Century Gothic Revival architectural style mimicking medieval Scottish castles, featuring crow-stepped gables, conical towers (tourelles/witches\' hats), battlements, and turrets, creating a romantic, fortified look with asymmetrical plans and heavy stonework, heavily popularized by Sir Walter Scott\'s Abbotsford. It blends Scottish vernacular with French and Gothic elements, evolving from fortified tower houses into grand country homes and public buildings.
**A charger plate is a large, decorative base plate used in formal place settings that is not meant to come into direct contact with food. Also known as a service plate or underplate, its purpose is to add visual appeal to a table, protect the tablecloth from spills and crumbs, and provide a base for subsequent dinner plates and courses. Charger plates are typically placed before guests arrive and are removed by servers after the main course is finished.
***Repoussé (pronounced “rep-oh-say”) is a metalworking technique where designs are created by hammering from the back of a metal sheet, pushing it up into a raised relief on the front. It\'s a French word meaning “pushed up”. The term can also refer to the resulting raised design itself.
****The original Knole Settee (also known as the Knole Sofa) is a couch chair that was made in the 17th century, probably around 1640. It is housed at Knole in Kent, a house owned by the Sackville-West family since 1605 but now in the care of the National Trust. It was originally used not as a comfortable sofa but as a formal throne-like seat on which an aristocrat or monarch would have sat to receive visitors. It was wide enough that a monarch and consort could be seated side by side. As of 2021, it is kept at Knole House in a transparent case.
*****Edwardian Tango Shoes are stylish, high-fashion, lace-up boots from the 1900s-1920s, characterized by their seductive design with high shafts, decorative tabs, and ribbon laces, intended to showcase the dancer\'s legs and colorful stockings during the popular Tango dance craze. Made from materials like dyed leather, velvet, or silk, they featured French heels for height and balance, reflecting the sensuous nature of the dance.
******A Turkish rug (also known as an Anatolian rug) is a hand-knotted textile from Turkey, known for its vibrant colours, intricate geometric or floral patterns, and exceptional durability, often using the symmetrical "Turkish knot" (Ghiordes knot) and natural dyes from wool or silk, reflecting rich cultural history and symbolism. They range from flat-woven kilims to plush pile rugs, serving both decorative and functional purposes, and are considered treasured art forms representing centuries of tradition.
*******Bloodsports are sports or entertainment involving bloodshed, pain, and suffering, typically between animals or humans, like cockfighting, dog fighting, bullfighting, and often including certain types of hunting (like fox hunting or hare coursing) where killing or severe harm is integral to the "sport". These activities are often illegal and controversial today, focusing on violent combat for gambling or amusement, rather than traditional, regulated field sports like normal hunting or fishing. However, in the Victorian and Edwardian eras, fox hunting, grouse shooting and hare coursing were not only commonplace amongst the aristocracy, but a standard part of the London Season, with wealthy families decamping London and retreating to country estates before Christmas to pursue the hunting season and the county balls that went with them throughout January and February.
********The Tuileries Garden is a public garden between the Louvre and the Place de la Concorde in the first arrondissement of Paris. Created by Catherine de\' Medici as the garden of the Tuileries Palace in 1564, it was opened to the public in 1667 and became a public park after the French Revolution. Since the Nineteenth Century, it has been a place for Parisians to celebrate, meet, stroll and relax.
*********A steeplechase is a long-distance race involving both galloping and jumping over obstacles, primarily fences and water jumps. In horse racing, steeplechases involve horses jumping over various obstacles like fences and ditches.
**********“Blooding” is a tradition in bloodsports extending back centuries. In shooting and stalking, a person\'s face is smeared with the blood of the first animal they kill. In hunting with hounds, a person is blooded by the first kill they are present for. It is, in essence, a gruesome coming of age ritual.
***********In the UK, hare coursing (now illegal) is the bloodsport of using dogs (like greyhounds) to chase, catch, and kill brown hares, often for gambling. Based on old country traditions, it takes place on open land, especially after harvest when crops are cleared.
************The term "Neanderthal" was first used in 1864 when Irish geologist William King proposed the species name Homo neanderthalensis for the fossils found in Germany\'s Neander Valley. However, the first known use of "Neanderthal" to describe the fossil itself dates to 1874 in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary.
*************The Age of Enlightenment (or Age of Reason) was a powerful Eighteenth Century European intellectual and cultural movement emphasizing reason, individualism, and scientific inquiry over tradition and faith, promoting ideals like liberty, tolerance, constitutional government, and progress, challenging religious orthodoxy and advocating for rational solutions to societal problems, heavily influencing the American and French Revolutions.
**************Mecklenburg-Strelitz was a historical territory in northern Germany that existed as a duchy and later a grand duchy, with capitals in Neustrelitz and Strelitz. It was established in 1701 as the Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz and was elevated to the Grand Duchy of Mecklenburg-Strelitz in 1815 before being dissolved in 1918 after the German Revolution. Today, the territory is part of the German state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern.
***************The Grand Duchy of Mecklenburg-Schwerin was a territory in Northern Germany held by the House of Mecklenburg residing at Schwerin. It was a sovereign member state of the German Confederation and became a federated state of the North German Confederation and finally of the German Empire in 1871.
***************A strop is a flexible strip (usually leather) or surface used for the final stage of sharpening blades like razors, knives, and chisels to polish, straighten, and refine their edge, removing any burrs left by stones, often with an applied compound for ultra-fine honing.
****************A cutthroat razor, also called a straight razor, is a classic, single-blade razor with a sharp, flick-out blade that folds into its handle, offering an exceptionally close shave but requiring skill, stropping, and careful maintenance for safe use. It\'s known for its smooth results, less irritation than disposables, and environmental benefits, though it demands practice and caution due to its open blade design, which can resemble a pocket knife or flick knife. The name comes from its extremely sharp, exposed blade, which, if used carelessly or incorrectly, can easily cut the skin.
*****************The word "sissy" first appeared in American English around the 1840s-1850s as a term for "sister," but its modern derogatory sense, meaning an effeminate or weak boy/man, emerged later in the late 1880s, between 1885 and 1890 (which would have been around the time Clemance married her American fiancée, Harrison, making her use of the word not unusual having been influenced by her husband’s vernacular throughout forty years of marriage). This shift marked a tightening of gender expectations for boys around the turn of the 20th century, moving away from earlier times when young boys were closely associated with mothers and less rigid gender roles.
******************French blue is a versatile, elegant coluor, generally a medium to deep, somewhat muted blue with grey or indigo undertones, evoking calm sophistication, often linked to French military uniforms or historic pigments like ultramarine, and used widely in fashion, interiors, and branding for its timeless appeal.
*******************Marcelling is a hair styling technique in which hot curling tongs are used to induce a curl into the hair. Its appearance was similar to that of a finger wave but it is created using a different method. Marcelled hair was a popular style for women\'s hair in the 1920s, often in conjunction with a bob cut. For those women who had longer hair, it was common to tie the hair at the nape of the neck and pin it above the ear with a stylish hair pin or flower. One famous wearer was American entertainer, Josephine Baker.
********************Nuptials is an alternative word for marriage. The term “nuptials” emphasizes the ceremonial and legal aspects of a marriage, lending a more formal tone to wedding communications and documentation.
*********************Potton is an historic market town known for its Georgian square, and civil parish in the Central Bedfordshire district, about ten miles east of the county town of Bedford. The parish had a population of a few thousand in the 1920s, so it was significant enough to have a railway station, and a post and telegraph office. In 1783 the Great Fire of Potton destroyed a large part of the town. The parish church dates from the Thirteenth Century, and it is dedicated to Saint Mary. Potton\'s horse fairs were some of the largest in the country.
**********************Jermyn Street is a one-way street in the St James\'s area of the City of Westminster in London. It is to the south of, parallel, and adjacent to Piccadilly. Jermyn Street is known as a street for high end gentlemen\'s clothing retailers and bespoke tailors in the West End.
**********************In polite society in Britain in the 1920s, the common social gesture when greeting a family member, a friend or acquaintance was to proffer the right cheek first, with both people lightly "kissing the air" while their cheeks touch. This was then often followed by a "kiss" on the left cheek, making it a "double-cheek kiss" if the people were well known to one another.
***********************A dinner gong is a large metal disc, commonly made of brass, struck with a mallet to create a loud, resonant sound, historically used in large homes, hotels, and ships during Victorian and Edwardian times to summon people to meals, signal events, or call for attention, serving as a practical and decorative household item.
This grand Georgian interior may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult, including some very special pieces made just for me.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
Central to our image is a very special miniature piece belonging to me. Made painstakingly by hand, the fireplace was made by my very dear Flickr friend and artist Kim Hagar BKHagar *Kim*), who surprised me with this amazing handmade fireplace as a Christmas gift last year, with the intention that I use it in my miniatures photos. Each stone has been individually cut, made and then worn to give texture before being stuck to the backing board and then painted. The only real part of the fireplace is the thick wooden mantle. She has created several floors in the same way for some of her own miniature projects which you can see in her “In Miniature” album here: www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/albums/721777203007....
On the mantle is a large collection of silver trophies. The tiny horses also come from my friend Kim (BKHagar *Kim*) and were sent to me last Christmas as well. Other pieces, like the large trophies, the strawberry bowl, the lidded biscuit sachet, the tankards and the Georgian jug were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The plates at the back of the mantle and around the walls, the other tankards, the trophy on the far right of the mantlepiece, the small jug on the fat left of the mantlepiece and the Georgian style water jug on the Elizabethan court cupboard to the right of the photo are 1:12 artisan miniatures made of sterling silver by unknown artists. They all came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop.
The beautiful 1:12 size chess set is an artisan piece. To give you an idea of size, the pawns are only two millimetres in height! There are two wooden drawers beneath the board to house the pieces when not in use, and what is really wonderful is that the chess board surface is magnetic, which holds each metal piece nicely in place until moved!
The Knole sofa and chair you can see are hand made artisan pieces with cream velvet upholstery and dyed oak knobs with the sides and back fastened with braid that has been made by American miniature artisan Peter Cluff. Although not commissioned by me, he has made several beautiful pieces of fine miniature furniture just for me over time. The cushions on it, feature the Morris ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern and a Morris and Co embroidery of hares in 1:12 size, and came from an American seller on E-Bay.
The two gothic style chairs with cream Regency stripe upholstery are made by the high-end miniature furniture manufacturer, Bespaq.
The large embroidered footstool in front of the fireplace was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq, but what is particularly special about it is that it has been covered in antique English floral micro petite point by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, which makes this a one-of-a-kind piece. The artisan who made this says that as one of her hobbies, she enjoys visiting old National Trust Houses in the hope of getting some inspiration to help her create new and exciting miniatures. She saw some beautiful petit point chairs a few years ago in one of the big houses in Derbyshire and then found exquisitely detailed petit point that was fine enough for 1:12 scale projects.
The small round footstool next to it has been hand embroidered as well, and was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the united Kingdom.
The books on the table in the foreground of the photograph and the magazines and newspapers fanned out on the large footstool before the fireplace are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. These books are amongst the rarer exceptions that have been designed not to be opened. Nevertheless, the covers are copies of real Victorian bindings. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s books and magazines are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. 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, as well as through his estate via 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 copy of Country Life in the foreground was printed and made by me, taken from an original copy of Country Life from 1925.
The tall Georgian longcase grandfather clock to the left of the fireplace I have had since I was about ten years old. Although it does not work, it does have hanging pendulums and chains inside the longcase, as the door can be opened to reveal the interior.
The walnut pedestal table is a hand lathed and fashioned walnut artisan miniature, made by miniature artist John Ottewell in 2006. It, the silver plate on its surface and the vase of roses in the silver filigree bowl came from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop. So too does the Elizabethan court cupboard on the right hand side of the photograph.
The yellow roses in the foreground were made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.
The paintings above the fireplace in its gilded frame is a 1:12 artisan piece made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States, whilst the painting of the hunting dogs to the left comes from Marie makes Miniatures in the United Kingdom.
The basket of wooden logs, the metal fireplace surround and stand of pokers also come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop.
The wallpaper is a copy of authentic early Victorian patterned paper.
The Persian rug on the floor has been woven by Pike, Pike and Company in the United Kingdom.
365/2021 - Expanding Horizons ~ 007/365
Treasure Hunt #20 Chess
Well, my golf had to be cancelled due to the course being closed as out was considered to be dangerous, under foot, due to the heavy frost and then the freezing rain! So, out with the chess!!
Stay Safe and Healthy Everyone!
Thanks to everyone who views this photo, adds a note, leaves a comment and of course BIG thanks to anyone who chooses to favourite my photo .... Thanks to you all!
This image was shot handheld through Plexiglass in a dark room with a cluttered background, a formula for a bad photo…LOL! But I thought it was interesting enough to give it a try.
It is a chess set and game table said to have been owned by Napoleon Bonaparte; it was given to George Vanderbilt as a gift on his 21st birthday by James McHenry, a British railroad financier. The set is on display in one of the buildings on the grounds of Biltmore Estate, the 250-room mansion built by Vanderbilt in the late 1800s in Asheville, North Carolina.
I tried various shots, but this one, taken from a perspective behind the red pieces looking toward the whites, came out the best.
Happy Macro Monday to all flickr friends, HMM
p.s. this is part of a little chess set, wide about 6cm
The theme for "Smile on Saturday" for the 17th of September is "tabletop game components". Luckily, I come from a family where tabletop games were something we all played, so for me it was just a choice of what pieces to use. I decided to opt for pieces that mean something to me and are part of my heritage. I hope you like my choice for the theme this week and that it makes you smile!
All the chess pieces behind him were all hand carved by my very gifted and clever maternal Grandfather in 1933. Over the years the wood in the white set has mellowed to a warm honey colour from the many games of chess that he played with the pieces. The black stain used has also withstood the many years of their use. My favourite pieces in the set are the wonderfully carved Rooks and Knights, both of which appear in this shot.
The draughts pieces, although not made by my Grandfather, were his and it was these pieces that he used to teach me how to play draughts. Remarkably, considering they are also from the 1930s, they have survived the years of use and are still brightly coloured.
The chessboard the tabletop game components are on was also made by my Grandfather in 1952. Two chess sets, the draughts set and three chess boards made by my Grandfather were bequeathed to me as part of his estate when he died a few years ago.
On a walk around the city to catch up on the Christchurch earthquake rebuild. April 2019 New Zealand.
This is the chess set in the in the Spring Palace of the former evil communist President of Romania , Nicolae Ceausescu . Now just tell me ,who would dare to be so foolhardy as to try to beat (defeat) this dreadful & decadent dictator ????
I brought this vintage chess set back from my Mum's home after she passed away last year. I think it may have gone to the local tip if I hadn't taken it. It must be at least sixty years old and probably quite a bit more as I think it was my Nan's before my Dad inherited it.
122 pictures in 2022 (34) game pieces
and
Weekly Alphabet Challenge 'aperture' theme.
A bit of a stretch but I'm submitting this for ANSH 118 (1) antique/vintage toy
This pawn and the pieces behind it were all hand carved by my very gifted and clever maternal Grandfather in 1933. Over the years the wood in the white set has mellowed to a warm honey colour from the many games of chess that he played with the pieces. The black stain used has also withstood the many years of their use. My favourite pieces in the set are the wonderfully carved Rooks and Knights. Although blurred you can just see them tantilisingly behind my last man standing. I couldn’t not include my beloved favourite pieces in this photograph. The chessboard the pieces are on was also made by my Grandfather in 1952. Two chess sets, a draughts set and three chess boards made by my Grandfather were bequeathed to me as part of his estate when he died a few years ago.
The theme for Smile on Saturday on the 25th of April is “Pawn”. How could I fail to not use these fabulous pieces of my family history, so lovingly made?
Window shopping in Venice is a heart stopping experience.... you can actually feel your credit card trying to squirm it's way into the furthest recesses of your wallet. For the budding photographer, most shop windows display signs saying "No photo". The cure of course is to wonder round after the shops have shut with your trusty "plastic fantastic" 50mm F1.8 and grab a all the shots you want. This is a chess set in a shop window somewhere expensively close to the Rialto Bridge.
Replicas of one of a number of walrus ivory chess sets buried on the Isle of Lewis around 800 years ago. What today we call the Castle was then the Warder - a warrior so ferocious he bites his shield in frustration - often called the Berserker.
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One of the chess set on display, Grand Bazaar, Istanbul.
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On the Sun Deck of "Viking Prestige." The kings are about 18" tall. See book in lower right for an idea of scale.
Detail of a 19th century chess set on a 19th century chess table.
Chess Table
By C.V. Fabbrica, 1856
Italian (Parma)
Wood
Accession #: 53.71.126
Chess Set
By John Flaxman (1755-1826), 19th Century
English
Jasperware
Accession #: 53.71.84a-p,aa-pp
Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, New York)—April 1, 2012
Chess set painted on boulder at top of mountain.
Appeared to be a waiting spot at the end of a climb.
Yosemite High Country
Yosemite National Park, California
chess-such an intriguing game. every move has impact & you never quite know what you're gonna do until the other person makes their move. kinda f's with your head a bit but definitely gets you thinking & once you're in-you play to win.
I really liked my first Rainbow Chess shot and wanted to try and improve it and see how some different angles looked. This one is much less noisy, but I still like the other one a lot more.
Astoria - Oregon - USA
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Uploaded on November 19, 2019
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