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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 we have not ventured far from Cavendish Mews, remaining in Mayfair, going only a short distance south to 145 Piccadilly*, a rather large terraced Georgian townhouse facing Green Park, which is the home of the Duke and Duchess of York**. Lettice is very good friends with Elizabeth, the Duchess, albeit their relationship became a little more distant when Elizabeth married the Duke in 1922 and took up Royal duties as part of the monarch’s household, but their bond has remained strong in spite of this. The Duchess has recently given birth to her first child, a daughter: Elizabeth Alexandra Mary***, and has not long returned home to 145 Piccadilly after giving birth at her parents house a shirt distance away at 17 Bruton Street. Lettice is visiting her friend to wish her congratulations, to give her a gift for her daughter, and perhaps see the little Princess Elizabeth for herself.
Lettice presents herself at the front door of the York’s London home, which is opened by a tall footman**** dressed in fine red livery, trimmed with gold braid, and announces with the self-assured presence of the daughter of a viscount, that she is expected. Having visited the house several times since the Duchess’ marriage to the Duke, she is recognised by the household staff, who welcome her warmly. Divested of her powder blue coat, arctic fox fur stole, gloves and umbrella by the first footman, she is ushered past three more liveried footmen, who bow in deference to her, Lettice is presented to the York’s butler in the large hallway with green marble columns. “Right this way, Miss Chetwynd.” he says politely, in the same stiff and affected way as Bramley, the butler at Lettice’s family home of Glynes in Wiltshire. Lettice smiles as he leads her along the familiar route to the electric lift, rather than the staircase they are situated behind, and takes her to the first floor morning room which is situated to the east of the house.
“The Honourable Miss Chetwynd, Your Royal Highness,” the butler announces proudly as he pushes open the inwards swinging white painted and gilt double doors and stands to one side to allow Lettice to enter the room before him.
She walks into a beautiful, spacious room, flooded with light from French doors that open out onto a balcony overlooking a long walled garden, featuring a stone terrace, lawns, abundant borders and wooden benches.
“Your Royal Highness*****.” Lettice says as she drops a deep and perfect Madam Vacani curtsey****** before her friend the Duchess quickly puts aside her copy of the London Illustrated News******* and smiles from her place in an overstuffed link floral armchair at Lettice.
“Lettice darling!” she exclaims enthusiastically. “How much I’ve been looking forward to your visit. Burton.” She turns her head and addresses the butler. “You may serve tea.”
“In the drawing room, Ma’am?” the manservant asks.
“Oh no, Burton!” the Duchess exclaims. “This is informal enough an occasion for us to have tea in here, isn’t it, Lettice darling?”
“Yes, Elizabeth darling.” Lettice replies, dropping the formal address of ‘ma’am’ usually reserved for most people, and reverting to the informal use of name used between intimate equals as she stands in the middle of the thick Chinese silk rug.
“Very good, Ma’am.” Burton replies unflappably, before retreating from the room, not turning his back on the Duchess or her friend.
As the doors close softly behind him, the two friends can no longer contain their mirth, and both snort over half muffled giggles.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being a Royal Highness, Elizabeth darling!” Lettice titters.
“You should try being a Royal Highness, Lettice darling!” Elizabeth giggles girlishly. “You think after several years of marriage, I’d be used to being addressed as Your Royal Highness by all my friends, but I’m not.” She waves her hand towards the plump floral sofa that matches her chair. “Please do sit down, Lettice.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness!” Lettice says with mocking solemnity in her voice as she makes an over accentuated curtsey to her friend, causing both of them to laugh again. As she takes her seat, Lettice adds, “Your butler is so pompous, Elizabeth darling.”
“I know, but Burton came highly recommended, and he is very competent. I imagine he feels that he has reached the pinnacle of his career, serving our household, even if we are only the Duke and Duchess of York, and therefore of no real importance.”
“Yes, butlers can be rather snobbish. I can imagine him in his dotage, boring the other servants around him with his pomposity as she shares stories of ‘what it was like when he served the Duke and Duchess of York’.”
“Oh don’t Lettice darling!” Elizabeth giggles again as Lettice imitates the plummy and stuff tones of the male manservant. “What if Burton comes back in? I shall not be able to look him in the face.”
“Isn’t that part of your role as Duchess, Elizabeth darling, to ignore the servants?” Lettice says cheekily.
“You are wicked, Lettice!” Elizabeth scolds her friend.
“I know, Elizabeth darling,” Lettice replies before adding cheekily, “And you love it!”
“I do adore you, my darling!” Elizabeth agrees.
With her interior designer’s critical eye, Lettice quickly takes in the decoration of the room in which she sits. There are many fine antiques around the room, including many Georgian pieces, however in her mind, it is overly stuffed with furnishings and bibelots******** which detract from the beauty and quality of the pieces. Elizabeth’s love of chintz is also at odds to Lettice’s own aesthetic tastes.
“Now don’t sit there judging my décor, Lettice!” Elizabeth observes.
Caught out, Lettice defends herself. “Oh, I wasn’t Elizabeth darling.”
Elizabeth gives her a shrewd look. Her stare is enough without words to say that her friend doesn’t believe her.
“Thinking of decorating,” Elizabeth goes on brightly, with a gentle smile that tells Lettice that she isn’t cross with her for appraising her chosen interiors. “I believe you and Sir John hosted David******** and Mrs. Dudley Ward********* a few months ago in Bedfordshire.”
“We did!” Lettice concurs. “His Royal Highness was very complimentary of my work, actually, Elizabeth darling. He even suggested that I might have a hand in decorating Ford Belvedere********** if His Majesty allows him to have it when the current lease is up on it***********.”
“Oh, don’t worry on that account, Lettice darling.” Elizabeth chuckles softly. “David is used to getting what he wants, and even though they have a strained relationship, my brother-in-law always manages to win around his father in the end.”
“Well it would be quite a feather in my cap if I were to decorate the home of the most famous man in the world.” Lettice enthuses. “He likes my more stripped back and modern, Art Deco designs. He said so.”
“I’m sure he did, Lettice. However,” Elizabeth cautions her friend as she looks at her seriously. “As your friend, I would give you a gentle word of warning.”
“Yes?”
“David is probably more likely to be a headache for you, than a feather for your cap. He’s famous for his lavish spending habits, but notorious for not paying his bills, even when, however delicately, asked to do so.”
“Well, I’ve dealt with Mater’s cousin, the Duchess of Whitby. and her reluctance to pay her bills. How much worse can His Royal Highness be?”
“He is rather preoccupied with hoarding money*************, rather than spending it, Lettice darling.”
“Well his endorsement of my designs for him…” Lettice begins.
“Will never come to fruition, Lettice darling.” Elizabeth concludes matter-of-factly. “Mark my words. Take heed of what I said before.” she goes on. “David usually gets what he likes, and what he likes at the moment is entirely whatever Mrs. Dudley Ward likes and wants. He’s in her thrall, and she can do no wrong. He’s already confided in me that between the two of them, they are already working on interior designs for Fort Belvedere, even before he has secured the lease of the place from His Majesty.”
Lettice’s face falls.
“I’m sorry to be the harbinger of such disappointing news, Lettice darling, but you’re better off without him, even for all his celebrité. Trust me.”
“Oh pooh!” Lettice says irritably. “That is a nuisance. I thought the men in my profession might actually pay me some attention and start treating me with respect and consideration, rather than dismissing me as a female dilettante with no knowledge or taste, if His Royal Highness recommended my work.”
“Sorry Lettice darling.” Elizabeth says again, sadly.
The two fall momentarily silent.
“Is that a gift for us?” Elizabeth says, breaking the quietness that has momentarily blanketed the two friends, indicating to a rater large and odd shaped parcel, wrapped in brightly coloured floral chintz wrapping paper, sitting in Lettice’s lap.
“Oh yes!” Lettice exclaims. “I had quite forgotten. Yes, this is for the Princess Elizabeth Alexandra Mary.”
“Bertie and I are in the habit of calling her Lilibet**************,” Elizabeth says as she accepts the present, tied with a large red bow, from her friend. “It helps to differentiate between her and me when we speak of her.”
“That’s lovely, Elizabeth.” Lettice says.
“You know, you really shouldn’t have, Lettice darling.” Elizabeth admonishes her friend very mildly as she removes the bow from atop the wrapped gift, now sitting in her own lap.
“Nonsense Elizabeth darling. It’s my pleasure.”
“No,” Eliabeth counters. “Really you shouldn’t have. We have so many presents arriving on a daily basis from every corner of the Empire. Just before you arrived I was reading a few very deeply heartfelt well wishes the Countess of Airlie************** thought I might like to respond to personally.” She indicates to the silver salver on the table between them on which sit a few opened envelopes with correspondence jutting out of them, and a silver letter opener. “And you should see the cabinet of curios Her Majesty has already had installed in the day nursery***************. It’s full of curios and gifts from all over the Empire for Lilibet.”
“Getting her into the habit of collecting early?” Lettice asks cheekily, referring to Queen Mary’s propensity to conspicuously acquire beautiful curios****************.
“Something like that,” Elizbeth laughs as she tears away at the wrapping which falls away noisily, revealing a large fluffy white stuffed toy dog. “Oh Lettice!” she exclaims in delight. “He’s a whizzer!” She ruffles his floppy ears, making the bells inserted in each jingle prettily. She holds him out admiringly at arms’ length, appraising his happy face and cuddly proportions.
“Well, if she’s a Bowes-Lyon,” Lettice replies proudly. “The Princess will doubtless love dogs, so I thought I’d try and instil that in her from an early age.”
“How very clever you are to think of that, Lettice darling!” Elizabeth enthuses, carefully placing the toy dog on top of the discarded paper on the floor at her feet. “She has plenty of dolls and teddy bears from family and friends, but you’re the first one to give her a dog. Thank you.”
Just at that moment, the doors of the morning room open and Burton appears carrying a small circular footed tray carrying a fine porcelain tea set featuring hand painted blue roses on it. He carefully places it on the low tea table between the two friends.
“Thank you Burton.” Elizabeth says politely to her manservant. “I’ll be mother**************** today I think.”
“Very good Ma’am.” he purrs in reply.
“Burton, do you know whether the Princess is awake?” Elizabeth goes on.
“I’m not sure Ma’am.”
“Could you be a good chap and go upstairs and check with Allah******************, please Burton? If Lilibet is awake,” She glances back at Lettice and smiles broadly. “I’d very much like Allah to bring her down so that Miss Chetwynd can meet her.”
“Very good Ma’am.” Burton says again before retreating, closing the doors behind him again.
“I… I didn’t want to ask.” Lettice manages to say awkwardly.
“You don’t have to, Lettice darling!” Elizabeth laughs. “I knew you’d want to meet Lilibet when you came for tea.” Elizabeth pauses as she lifts the teapot, leaving it poised in mid air. “You do want to meet her, don’t you?”
“I’d love nothing more, Elizabeth darling!”
“Good!” Elizabeth begins pouring tea into Lettice’s dainty fine china teacup. “That’s settled then.”
“So,” Lettice asks as she accepts the proffered cup of tea from her friend. “Which of you is the softer parent then, Elizabeth? You or Bertie?”
“Oh, I’m definitely the gentler parent out of the two of us.”
“Well, this is no revelation to me, Elizabeth darling.” Lettice says smiling brightly as she adds sugar to her tea and then milk.
“Not that Bertie is gruff, mind you.” Elizabeth assures her friend as she begins to pour her own tea. “He adores our daughter.”
“Of course he does.”
“He calls Lilibet his ‘pride’*******************, and he’s taken up to calling the three of us ‘we three’********************.”
“That’s rather endearing, Elizabeth darling.”
“However,” Elizabeth goes on as she places her cup on as of yet untouched tea on the table and worries the longest length of her three strand pearl necklace as she speaks. “Bertie is, as we all are, a product of our upbringing.” Elizabeth pauses for a moment and then leans forward in her seat towards Lettice. “I know I can speak my mind with you, and share confidences with you, Lettice darling.”
“Of course you can, Elizabeth darling!” Lettice assures her.
Elizabeth looks around furtively and lowers her voice a little. “You know, I always thought the servants in Bruton Street******************** were a gossipy lot in comparison to Glamis Castle*********************. London staff are so less discreet than county domestics. You are fortunate in your choice of such a discreet maid, Lettice darling.”
“Oh, I’m sure Edith gossips on occasion, Elizabeth darling, like all servants. No-one is a saint, but yes, I will agree that my private business is not widely shared about, so far as I am aware. Do the servants here talk?”
“The walls have ears here, and worse than gossip, the finest details of the comings and goings here go back to the Royal household: even when I ask for a Dubonnet and gin.”
“Well, whatever you share with me won’t go further than we two,”
“Well, going back to Bertie being a product of his upbringing, I don’t wish to speak ill of His Majesty, who is just a darling to me**********************, and has been the most supportive and attentive father-in-law I could hope for as I navigate Royal life, but he has very strained relationships with all his children, except perhaps for the Princess Royal, and he is forever picking on them and yelling at them. He gets very frustrated with poor Bertie and his stammer***********************, and David makes sport of Bertie’s speech problems at every opportunity he gets.”
“Yes, he made fun of Bertie’s stammer with me over luncheon at Rippon Court.” Lettice admits a little guiltily.
“And Her Majesty is so formal and remote with Bertie and David. So, I’m having to teach Bertie that there is a different way to rais children than that of his parents************************: a more kind way. I believe that one should love one's children and should spare the rod to spoil the child, to maintain their affection.”
“It worked for me. Pater showed me so much love and affection when I was a child, and let me get away with so much, and I still love him dearly to this day, despite his gruffness.”
“You were the youngest, Lettice darling, and your father indulged you!”
“You sound like Mater, Elizabeth darling.” Lettice laughs.
The double doors to the morning room swing open again as Burton announces, “Her Royal Highness, the Princess Elizabeth.”
Lettice glances at Elizabeth and rolls her eyes, which makes Elizabeth start to chuckle. She quickly muffles it behind her teacup which she raises quickly to her lips.
A tall and noble-looking mature woman dressed in a smart, yet dourly coloured, nannies’ uniform, steps into the room, and drops a deep curtsey, as Burton closes the doors behind her.
“Your Royal Highness.” the nanny says in a commanding voice.
In her arms Clara Knight, Princess Elizabeth’s nanny, holds a pretty baby swaddled in white linen and lace. She proudly holds her charge in her arms, rather like a prize turkey won at a county fair, Lettice thinks. The Princess’ pudgy fingers extend about her, reaching for things but grasping nothing. Her cherubic face with bright cheeks and lively and intelligent blue eyes that look about with wonder, peers out from beneath a lace trimmed cap.
“Ah, Allah!” Elizabeth says, standing up. “Good! I was hoping Lilibet was awake. Lettice, this is Nanny Knight – Allah – Lilibet’s nanny. Allah, this is my very dear friend Miss Chetwynd.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Chetwynd.” Allah says, dropping another efficient and respectful low curtsey towards Lettice, lowering her head with deference.
Princess Elizabeth gurgles happily at the sight of her mother and extends her arms and wriggling fingers towards Elizabeth. Elizabeth in turn stretches out her arms to her child. “Thank you Allah.”
The dour nanny carefully hands her charge to her mother, muttering, “There, there.” as the princess starts to become more vocal.
Lettice smiles at the joy on her friend’s face as she holds her child in her arms and carefully bounces her up and down.
“Did she sleep well, Allah?” Elizabeth asks, looking up at the nanny with genuine interest as to her response.
“Very well, Ma’am.” Allah affirms. “She slept through most of the night, except for feeding Miss Macdonald’s feeding times, and then she went back off to sleep straight away.”
“Very good Lilibet, darling!” Elizabeth says to her daughter, continuing to move and sway her gurgling infant around. “What a good little girl you’re being for Allah and Miss Macdonald, not making a fuss.”
“Is that for the Princess, Ma’am?” Allah asks, indicating to the toy dog at her mistress’ feet.
“Yes, it is Allah,” Elizabeth affirms. “Miss Chetwynd,” She nods at Lettice. “Brought it for Lilibet.”
“That’s a fine choice for the Princess, as a Bowes-Lyon infant, Miss Chetwynd.” Allah says, bestowing Lettice a beatifical smile. “You obviously know the family’s love of dogs well.”
“I do, Nanny Knight” Lettice affirms.
“Oh, please call me Allah, Miss Chetwynd.” Allah says. “Everyone has been calling me that, ever since Her Royal Highness and her brother were children.”
“Very well, Allah.” Lettice replies.
“Here, Lettice darling!” Elizabeth says, walking around the oblong low table and leaning down.
Lettice opens her arms and accepts the infant princess into it.
“You are a natural, Miss Chetwynd.” Allah observes with another smile as Lettice bounces the baby on her knee, supporting her around her waist, making the child giggle and squirm happily.
“Thank you, Allah.”
“You’ll make a fine mother one day.” the nanny goes on.
“Well, I am engaged to be married, Allah, and my fiancée does desire an heir.”
“Men like Sir John usually do.” Elizabeth remarks a little sharply, a look of distaste tainting her happy smile.
Lettice decides not to acknowledge Elizabeth’s small slight towards Sir John, and she holds her tongue. Instead, she focusses on the Princess Elizabeth in her arms and coos at her.
“Oh!” Elizabeth cries. “Let me fetch my Box Brownie*************************, so I can take a photograph of you with Lilibet, Lettice!”
Elizabeth hurries away to her Hepplewhite desk in the corner of the morning room overlooking the gardens, where she shuffles papers and she rummages noisily, before finally appearing from behind it once more, triumphantly holding her camera.
“Now.” Elizabeth says with a smile as she looks through the viewfinder at Lettice holding her daughter. “Ready yourself Lettice and Lilibet. One… two… three!”
The camera clicks and whirs as Elizabeth takes her photograph.
This week's chapter of "Life at Cavendish Mews" is dedicated to the memory of Her Late Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II, who was morn on the 21st of April 1926, and would have turned 100 years old on the Tuesday just gone.
This upper-class Mayfair drawing room may appear real to you, but it is in fact made up of 1:12 miniature pieces from my extensive collection.
*145 Piccadilly was a large, terraced townhouse on Piccadilly in the London district of Mayfair that was built in the late Eighteenth Century. It was the residence of Hamar Bass in the late Nineteenth Century and home to the Duke and Duchess of York (subsequently King George VI and Queen Elizabeth) and their two young daughters, Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, from 1926 to 1936. It was set over five storeys with twenty five rooms, a ballroom and a library. The house opened onto a large hallway with green columns. The house had an electric lift, and a large glass dome was situated in the roof. A morning room overlooked a small garden which led to Hamilton Gardens, a communal garden shared with the other residents of adjoining houses. Hamilton Gardens directly joined Hyde Park. The Yorks would stay at the Royal Lodge in Windsor when outside London, but made 145 Piccadilly their base when in London, and made it a very private family home. The house had day and night nurseries for the young princesses. Princess Elizabeth's rooms were on the fourth floor of the house. Elizabeth's sister, Margaret, was born in 1930. It was badly damaged in an air raid during the Second World War in 1940, and was finally demolished in 1959.
**Prince Albert, Duke of York, known by the diminutive “Bertie” to the family and close friends, was the second son of George V. He and his wife Elizabeth Bowes Lyon as she was known prior to her marriage to Bertie and becoming the Duchess of York, went on to become King George VI and Queen Elizabeth of the United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952.
***Elizabeth Alexandra Mary (later Queen Elizabeth II) was the first-born child of the Duke and Duchess of York (subsequently King George VI and Queen Elizabeth). Her middle names were given in honour of her paternal grandmother, Queen Mary, and her late great grandmother, Dowager Queen Alexandra, who had died less than six months earlier in November 1925. Princess Elizabeth was born on the 21st of April 1926 at the London residence of her maternal grandparents, the Count and Countess of Strathmore and Kinghorne, number 17 Bruton Street, Mayfair, before returning with her mother to the York’s London home of 145 Piccadilly a few days after her birth.
****Footmen were historically chosen for their height (typically over 6 feet) primarily as a display of wealth, acting as a luxury status symbol, similar to a "matched team of horses" for wealthy households. Tall, strong, and handsome footmen in elaborate livery served to impress visitors, while also providing practical utility as bodyguards, messengers, and coach attendants
*****Etiquette stipulates that when addressing the Duchess of York (or any female member styled as "Her Royal Highness"), you first address her as "Your Royal Highness," upon presentation, and then in subsequent conversation, you address her as "Ma’am", rhyming with "ham".
******Founded in 1915 by Marguerite Vacani (aunt of Betty Vacani) the Vacani School of Dance originally taught the sort of dancing and social etiquette that was a necessary accomplishment for young ladies and gentlemen of quality. Pupils were taught the ballroom dances of the day and debutante ladies learned the curtsy needed when presented at court.
*******The Illustrated London News was first published on in May 1842, by Herbert Ingram. It was the world's first illustrated weekly newspaper, featuring extensive wood engravings and, later, photographs, with regular publication continuing until 1971 before becoming a monthly broadsheet, and eventually ceasing publication in 2003.
********A bibelot is another name for a small decorative knickknack, ornament or trinket.
*********Edward, Prince of Wales (later King Edward VIII), was called "David" by his family and close friends because it was the last of his seven given names: Edward Albert Christian George Andrew Patrick David. The name was chosen in honour of St. David, the patron saint of Wales, and used informally to distinguish him within the royal family.
*********Winifred May Mones, Marquesa de Casa Maury, commonly known by her first married name as Freda Dudley Ward, was an English socialite. She was best known for being a married paramour of Edward, Prince of Wales, who later became Edward VIII. She was twice married and divorced. Her first marriage was on 9 July 1913 to William Dudley Ward, the Liberal MP for Southampton. Her first husband’s family surname was Ward, but ‘Dudley Ward’ became their surname through common usage. They divorced on the ground of adultery in 1931 and were the parents of two daughters. Although married in 1913 to William Dudley Ward, Freda was also in a relationship with Edward, Prince of Wales from 1918, until she was supplanted by American Thelma Furness from 1929 to 1934 before he then took up with Wallis Simpson, whom he eventually married and abdicated for.
**********Fort Belvedere (originally Shrubs Hill Tower) is a country house on Shrubs Hill in Windsor Great Park, in Surrey. The fort was built as a folly by Henry Flitcroft in 1750–1755 and was later predominantly re-constructed by Jeffry Wyatville in a Gothic Revival style in the 1820s. The fort was occupied by numerous members of the British Royal Family and associated personages from 1750 to 1976. From 1929 Fort Belvedere was the home of Edward, Prince of Wales, who greatly renovated the house and grounds, and it was the site of his abdication as King Edward VIII in 1936. The property remains part of the Crown Estate, is home to private tenants and is not open to the public.
***********In 1929, Fort Belvedere became vacant, and was given to Prince Edward, Prince of Wales, by his father, King George V. The King had originally expressed surprise at Edward\'s request asking him "What could you possibly want that queer old place for? Those damn weekends I suppose", but then smiled and gave his permission. During Edward\'s occupancy, extensive renovation of the interior and grounds was carried out. He built a swimming pool at the fort between 1931 and 1932, that replaced an old lily pond, and added a tennis court and developed stables in the grounds of the fort. Edward added modern conveniences at the fort, many of which were still rare in British homes, including bathrooms adjacent to nearly every room, a steam-room, showers, built-in cupboards and central heating. The Prince initially renovated the house with the assistance of his then mistress Freda Dudley-Ward.
************In 1926, Edward, Prince of Wales (later Edward VIII), was arguably the most famous and photographed celebrity in the world. At the height of his popularity during the 1920s, the Prince of Wales commanded unprecedented global attention due to his role as the "poster boy" of the British Empire, his bachelor status, his charming personality, and his status as a trendsetter in men's fashion.
*************Edward, Prince of Wales (later King Edward VIII and then the Duke of Windsor), was exceptionally wealthy while younger but often exhibited lavish spending habits. While he did not suffer from the crushing debts that plagued his royal ancestors like George IV, he was noted for being extremely preoccupied with his wealth, hoarding money, and negotiating large financial settlements for his private comfort. Contrary to the stereotype of royalty, the Prince often inquired about the price of goods rather than paying exorbitant amounts. Edward was known for hoarding jewels as well, leading to the nickname "Magpies" for himself and Wallis Simpson. He was known to have "grossly minimised" his assets to the British government to negotiate better financial terms upon his abdication. After abdicating, he continued to "run through his money like water" and frequently badgered his brother, King George VI, for more money, to the point where the King stopped taking his telephone calls.
**************Princess Elizabeth (the future Queen Elizabeth II) was affectionately nicknamed "Lilibet" by her close family, including her parents, the Duke and Duchess of York, from a very young age. The nickname originated because it was what she called herself when she first started to talk and couldn't pronounce her own name properly. The nickname was used exclusively by her close family, including her parents, her grandfather King George V, and later her husband, Prince Philip. Although the Princess Elizabeth is still far too young to be talking by this time in 1926 when the chapter is set, I hope you will indulge my creative licence with this fact, as I say that the Duke and Duchess are already calling her that in April 1926.
**************The Countess of Airlie (Mabel Airlie) was a trusted friend and lady-in-waiting to Queen Mary. She was spared from the Queen’s retinue of staff temporarily when she was tasked with visiting the Duchess and helping her with the onerous task of the barrage of official correspondence after the birth of Princess Elizabeth. She also visited the Duchess on May 14, 1926, just after the General Strike, to deliver a gift for the baby's christening.
***************The day nursery of 145 Piccadilly had a tall cabinet with curios and gifts from all over the British Empire given by the Princess Elizabeth's grandmother, Queen Mary.
****************Queen Mary (wife of George V) was an avid and compulsive collector. She loved, and was expert at locating, items with royal provenance and she referred to collecting and organizing items in the Royal Collection as her hobby. The Queen collected Battersea enamels, late jades, miniature elephants, gold tea sets, lacquerware, fans, and jewellery. She bought three of the famous Russian Fabergé eggs after the 1917 Russian Revolutions and purchased pieces from Empress Maria Feodorovna (her aunt-in-law) and other survivors to help them financially, including Boucheron brooches and large pearls. The most famous of these is the Vladimir Tiara which the Queen purchased in 1921 from Grand Duchess Elena Vladimirovna, who had smuggled the tiara out of Russia with the help of British diplomats. Queen Mary had it repaired by Garrard and made the pearl drops interchangeable with emeralds. In a telling anecdote about Queen Mary, Grand Duchess Xenia recognised a pink onyx Fabergé box (part of her own collection) on a writing desk during a visit to Queen Mary. Queen Mary reportedly replaced the box in a cabinet without commenting or offering to return it to the Grand Duchess Xenia, illustrating her rather possessive nature. She was well known for her intense desire to acquire pieces, sometimes nicknamed a "kleptomaniac" for her persistent requests for items from her friends, who took to hiding objects they thought might take her fancy when she visited them. For all her magpie hoarding and kleptomaniac acquisitions, Queen Mary was a committed curator who aimed to preserve the history of the House of Windsor, restoring pieces that had been scattered.
*****************The meaning of the very British term “shall I be mother” is “shall I pour the tea?”
******************Princess Elizabeth's first senior nanny was Clara Knight, known as "Allah", who had also been nanny to her mother, Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon. Knight was born near the Hertfordshire home of the Bowes-Lyon family, and was raised in a deeply Christian family. Her father was a tenant farmer from Whitwell, Hertfordshire, and her brother farmed the earl of Strathmore and Kinghorne's land at St Paul's Walden Bury. The Bowes-Lyon family employed Knight as a nanny for their children when she was seventeen, and she spent the rest of her life raising the family's children and grandchildren. Her charges included Elizabeth (Later Queen Elizabeth and then the Queen Mother) and David Bowes-Lyon, children of the 14th Earl of Strathmore and Kinghorne. Because David and Elizabeth could not pronounce "Clara", they called her Allah, and the nickname stuck for the rest of her life. When the then Duchess of York gave birth to her first child, Princess Elizabeth, in 1926, Lady Elphinstone (the Duchess’ elder sister) agreed that Knight should go and take charge of the princess. Knight moved into the York family residence at 145 Piccadilly, where she was allocated the top floor. She raised Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret until their adolescence. Knight was a "no-nonsense" nanny who set up a rigid schedule for Princess Elizabeth lest she grow up into a spoiled adult, from breakfast at half past seven every morning until bedtime at a quarter past seven each night. Even the princess's bowel movements were strictly regulated. Knight was aided by a more flexible, much younger nursery maid, Margaret MacDonald, while their education was entrusted to a governess, Marion Crawford (Crawfie). Princess Elizabeth's companion Lady Elizabeth Cavendish described Knight as "formidable". Nannies were expected to stay single, and Knight never married; she was referred to as "Mrs" by virtue of her senior position among the family's staff. Knight was tall and noble looking. She was never photographed out of uniform and never talked to the press, unlike later carers for the princesses.
*******************King George VI famously referred to his daughters individually, saying, "Lilibet is my pride. Margaret is my joy". This is believed to have begun during both their childhoods, although I am only supposing he used the term “pride” to describe Princess Elizabeth so early on in her infancy.
********************King George VI frequently referred to his wife (Queen Elizabeth) and their two daughters (Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret) as "us four" or "the four of us". The King used this phrase to emphasise the unity of himself, his wife, and their two daughters, and it stems back from before he was the King, and the family lived a much simpler and more private life as the Yorks. This phrasing was used to describe their close-knit, supportive family unit, particularly during the turbulent times of the abdication crisis in 1936 and the subsequent Second World War of 1939 to 1945.
********************17 Bruton Street was a large, eighteenth-century townhouse located next to Berkeley Square in Mayfair. Built in 1742, it was leased by Claude Bowes-Lyon, 14th Earl of Strathmore and Kinghorne during the 1920s. In June 1920 the Earl and his wife Cecilia, Lady Strathmore, vacated No. 20 St James's Square, which had been used as the family's London townhouse since 1906. A temporary lease was taken over a house in Eaton Square, and by April 1921 the lease of No. 17 Bruton Street had been acquired, and renovations were underway in preparation for the Bowes-Lyon family's occupation of the house. The family had moved in to their new Bruton Street residence by March 1922. In January 1923 the Strathmores' youngest daughter Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon had become engaged to Prince Albert, Duke of York. Lady Strathmore arrived at 17 Bruton Street on the 9th of April in preparation for her daughter's wedding. On the 26th of April 1923 Lady Elizabeth departed from No. 17 Bruton Street for Westminster Abbey where she and Prince Albert were married, On 21 April, Elizabeth, Duchess of York gave birth at the house to Princess Elizabeth of York, who would later become the longest-reigning Sovereign of the United Kingdom. The building was demolished in 1937 and replaced by Berkeley Square House.
*********************Glamis Castle is situated beside the village of Glamis in Angus, Scotland. It is the home of the Earl of Strathmore and Kinghorne, and is open to the public. Glamis Castle is the ancestral seat and home of the Lyon family since the 14th Century, though the present building dates largely from the 17th century. It became the Bowes-Lyon family’s main home after Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon’s father, Claude, inherited the title of Earl of Strathmore and Kinghorne in 1904.
**********************King George V was very fond of his daughter-in-law, Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, Duchess of York, (the future Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mother). He regarded her as a charming and stabilising influence on his son, Prince Albert ("Bertie," later George VI), and enjoyed her vivacious personality, often allowing her to break the strict rules of his court, treating her as his favourite daughter-in-law. Elizabeth for her part, noted that the King seemed to enjoy having someone "new and young" join the family, helping to lighten the atmosphere among the Royal Family, many of whom he had strained relationships with, including all his children, due to his demanding and gruff temperament.
***********************King George VI had a severe stammer that developed around age eight. It was a lifelong struggle that caused him great anxiety, particularly with public speaking, but he managed it with the help of Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue, a story famously depicted in the film The King's Speech.
************************King George V and Queen Mary had a stern, distant, and formal relationship with their children, typical of high-ranking Edwardian-era parents who relied heavily on nannies and tutors to do the caring whilst they attended to their formal duties as monarchs. Whilst Queen Mary was known to be a warmer, nurturing presence at times, both parents held strict views on duty, often creating an intimidating atmosphere that left their sons particularly strained or fearful of their father. King George was a martinet for order, applying a severe, often harsh, disciplinary style to his sons. He was known for outbursts of temper and created a strict upbringing. Queen Mary was perceived as colder in her maternal duties, having little interest in her children as babies, but she was seen as a source of comfort to her sons in contrast to their father, and she grew to love her children dearly later in life. Princess Mary was the only daughter and the youngest for a time, making her the favourite. King George was much more lenient with her, and she frequently caused disruptions in her brothers' study times. On the other hand, he was famously tough on his sons to ensure they avoided scandal, which caused resentment and fear.
*************************A Kodak Box Brownie is a simple, inexpensive, cardboard or metal box camera introduced by Eastman Kodak in 1900 that revolutionized amateur photography. . Priced at five shillings, it featured a simple lens and shutter, allowing the mass market to take "snapshots". With Royal patronage from Princess (later Queen) Alexandra, wife of Edward the Prince of Wales (the future King Edward VII) who was an avid amateur photographer, the Box Brownie popularised photography in the upper and middle-classes, bringing it to children and families for over eighty years. Like her husband’s grandmother, The Duchess of York also enjoyed and was a keen amateur photographer, and was often photographed with cameras. She in turn passed the love of photography on to her daughter, the future Queen Eliabeth II, who famously owned and used a Kodak Box Brownie camera, often referred to as her first camera given to her by her father before the Second World War, who used it to take candid shots of family and friends.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The beautiful white plush dog that is the gift from Lettice to Princess Elizabeth is a handmade artisan miniature from America. He (or she) has an articulated head and limbs and has a hand stitched face. The paper the dog sits on is real wrapping paper that is double sided with different patterns that comes from the Melbourne paper emporium Zetta Florence.
The pretty floral tea set for two I acquired from a curios and collectables shop in Daylesford in provincial Victoria. The silver tea caddy, round tea tray and the silver salver on the round table were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland who are renown for the accuracy and detail they pay to their miniature pieces, all of which are based on real items. The letter opener on top of the salver is sterling silver and was made by made by the Little Green Workshop in England who specialise in high end, high quality miniatures.
The letters on the salver and the copy of the Illustrated London News are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Ken Blythe is better known for his miniature books. 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. He also created smaller paper based products, like letters and newspapers. 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 Duchess of York’s floral chintz sofa and chair are made by J.B.M. miniatures who specialise in well made pieces of miniature furniture made to exacting standards. The floral cushions on them with Art Nouveau Charles Rennie Macintosh roses designs were acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop.
The Marie Antionette suite with pretty floral upholstery consisting of the sofa in the background, the salon chair in the foreground and the coffee table in the midground, have been made by the high-end miniatures manufacturer, Creal.
The footstool in the foreground and the galleried chinoiserie style black japanned Chippendale butler’s table to the right of the photo were made by high-end miniature furniture manufacturer, Bespaq.
The hand painted French bombe chest of drawers in the centre background has been made by high-end miniature manufacturer, Hansson. In its hand painted “marble” surface stand two miniature diecast lead Meissen figurines: the Lady with the Canary and the Gentleman with the Butterfly, made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces, The pair have been hand painted and gilded by me. The two statues flanking them: a bull and an Eighteenth Century gentleman, are made by British miniature ceramicist, Kay Lewis.
The vases of flowers around the room are all beautifully made by hand by the Doll House Emporium.
The screen with hand painted soapstone panels is an antique I acquired from an antiques and collectables auction some years ago.
All the paintings around the Duchess’ morning room in their gilded frames are from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom, as are the miniature silhouettes, and the wallpaper is an authentic copy of Georgian wallpaper from the 1770s, printed by me.
The Chinese rug on the floor is a copy of a style that was very popular in the 1920s, and has been woven by Pike, Pike and Company in the United Kingdom.
They are just as much a part of Vienna as St. Stephen’s Cathedral and the Giant Ferris Wheel: the fiakers. For many tourists, a ride with the two-horse carriage is one of the highlights. There is almost no cozier way to explore Vienna’s attractions.
The term "fiaker" originates from the French and refers to the hackney carriage stand in the Parisian Rue de Saint Fiacre. In 1720, the carriages - which had previously been referred to as "Janschky" coaches in Vienna - were renamed "fiakers" (and numbered).
Then the carriage trade really began to boom: more than 1,000 fiakers were on the road in Vienna between 1860 and 1900. The carriage drivers were often characters that were known throughout the city and also sometimes performed as singers. They were appreciated for their discretion, especially when one or the other fine gentleman was amusing himself in the fiaker with his paramour. Probably most famous among them was Josef Bratfisch, the royal coachman of Crown Prince Rudolf, who brought the prince's lover Mary Vetsera to Mayerling in 1889, where both lives found a tragic end.
Today it is hard to imagine the cityscape without the Viennese fiakers. You can find fiaker stands in different areas of the city: Stephansplatz, Heldenplatz (occasionally Michaelerplatz), Albertinaplatz, Petersplatz and Burgtheater. The short tour (approx. 20 min. through the centre of the Old City) costs € 55; the long tour (approx. 40 min. through the Ringstrasse and the Old City) € 80. You can also book individual sightseeing tours directly through the fiaker companies (List of fiaker companies).
Since the spring of 2012, carriage rides have also been possible at the Central Cemetery: the carriage rank at gate 2 is occupied from Thursday to Sunday, from 10.00 am to about 4.30 pm. The tour includes numerous memorial graves of prominent Viennese personalities (Mozart, Schubert, Beethoven, Hans Moser, Falco, Adolf Loos and many others), and also brings visitors closer to the cemetery's natural attractions. The short tour (30 min.) costs €40.00, the long one (60 min.) €70.00 per carriage (for 4 people). Tours are operated from the beginning of April to the end of September. Reservations can be made from Monday to Wednesday by calling +43-(0)699-181 540 22.
A special tip: If you would like to enjoy a romantic journey, you should ask the fiaker coach for a "porcelain ride", which is a particularly calm and steady drive. This was provided long ago to transport precious porcelain safely from one place to another. Today, it's a nice way to enchant your beloved.
We give rise to ego, by being insecure
The advice that we go, desperatly searching for
The subconscious effort, to support our paramour
To engage in denial, to admit we're immature
Validating lies, Mr. Intentional
Open up yours eyes, Mr. Intentional
(Lauryn Hill, Mr Intentional)
See more in the Lingotto set.
Female demons, as opposed to incubas, succubuses (male names) tempt men during their sleep and make every effort to unite with them. The belief in sexual relations between a spirit and a mortal, man or woman, is very ancient and present in many peoples. Monks, anachoretes and shepherds claimed to be the object of the loving pursuits of succubi.All the dreamers and hallucinators of fasting and abstinence, were beset by their lascivious caresses and devouring ardour. These demons often animated a body torn from the sepulchre and the wealthy lover, or rather lost by passion, found between his arms, after a night of drunkenness, a corpse emaciated and stinking. The succubi also took on the appearance of the beloved person, in order to incite the boyfriend or chaste man to commit the sin of lust. A succubus is a Lilin-demon in female form, or supernatural entity in folklore (traced back to medieval legend) that appears in dreams and takes the form of a woman in order to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. The male counterpart is the incubus. Religious traditions hold that repeated sexual activity with a succubus may result in the deterioration of health or mental state, or even in death. In modern representations, a succubus may or may not appear in dreams and is often depicted as a highly attractive seductress or enchantress; whereas, in the past, succubi were generally depicted as frightening and demonic.
Les Cent Contes drolatiques d' Honoré de Balzac is a little-known work that appeared between 1832 and 1837. Balzac wrote only thirty of the one hundred stories, divided into three dizains. This work was conceived as the second pillar of the Balzacian edifice, facing La Comédie humaine. They are tales in the tradition of the fabliaux of the Middle Ages and written in a re-invented language of the 16th century. The archaic, anachronistic construction of this work made reception impossible, struck the critics, surprised and discouraged the public. This reception is still problematic today, as familiarity with medieval writing and syntax is reserved for an elite readership. ""
The word is derived from Late Latin succuba "paramour"; from succub(āre) "to lie beneath" (sub- "under" + cubāre "to lie in bed"), used to describe the supernatural being as well. The word "succubus" originates from the late 14th century.
According to Zohar and the Alphabet of Ben Sira, Lilith was Adam's first wife, who later became a succubus. She left Adam and refused to return to the Garden of Eden after she mated with archangel Samael. In Zoharistic Kabbalah, there were four succubi who mated with the archangel Samael. There were four original queens of the demons: Lilith, Eisheth, Agrat Bat Mahlat, and Naamah. A succubus may take a form of a beautiful young girl but closer inspection may reveal deformities of her body, such as bird-like claws or serpentine tails.Folklore also describes the act of sexually penetrating a succubus as akin to entering a cavern of ice, and there are reports of succubi forcing men to perform cunnilingus on their vulvas that drip with urine and other fluids. In later folklore, a succubus took the form of a siren.
Throughout history, priests and rabbis, including Hanina Ben Dosa and Abaye, tried to curb the power of succubi over humans.However, not all succubi were malevolent. According to Walter Map in the satire De Nugis Curialium (Trifles of Courtiers), Pope Sylvester II (999–1003) was allegedly involved with a succubus named Meridiana, who helped him achieve his high rank in the Catholic Church. Before his death, he confessed of his sins and died repentant.According to the Kabbalah and the school of Rashba, the original three queens of the demons, Agrat Bat Mahlat, Naamah, Eisheth Zenunim, and all their cohorts give birth to children, except Lilith. According to other legends, the children of Lilith are called Lilin.
According to the Malleus Maleficarum, or "Witches' Hammer", written by Heinrich Kramer (Institoris) in 1486, a succubus collects semen from the men she seduces. The incubi or male demons then use the semen to impregnate human females, thus explaining how demons could apparently sire children despite the traditional belief that they were incapable of reproduction. Children so begotten – cambions – were supposed to be those that were born deformed, or more susceptible to supernatural influences. The book does not address why a human female impregnated with the semen of a human male would not produce a regular human offspring, although after transferring the male semen to the Incubi it is believed the semen is altered to match the genetic material of the Succubus and the incubi before being transferred to a human female host. But in some lore the child is born deformed because the conception was unnatural.
King James in his dissertation titled Dæmonologie refutes the possibility for angelic entities to reproduce and instead offered a suggestion that a devil would carry out two methods of impregnating women: the first, to steal the sperm out of a dead man and deliver it into a woman. If a demon could extract the semen quickly, the transportation of the substance could not be instantly transported to a female host, causing it to go cold. This explains his view that Succubae and Incubi were the same demonic entity only to be described differently based on the tormented sexes being conversed with. The second method was the idea that a dead body could be possessed by a devil, causing it to rise and have sexual relations with others. However, there is no mention of a female corpse being possessed to elicit sex from men.In Arabian mythology, the qarînah (قرينة) is a spirit similar to the succubus, with origins possibly in ancient Egyptian religion or in the animistic beliefs of pre-Islamic Arabia. A qarînah "sleeps with the person and has relations during sleep as is known by the dreams."They are said to be invisible, but a person with "second sight" can see them, often in the form of a cat, dog, or other household pet. "In Omdurman it is a spirit which possesses. ... Only certain people are possessed and such people cannot marry or the qarina will harm them."To date, many African myths claim[citation needed] that men who have similar experience with such principality (succubus) in dreams (usually in form of a beautiful woman) find themselves exhausted as soon as they awaken; often claiming spiritual attack upon them. Local rituals/divination are often invoked in order to appeal the god for divine protection and intervention.In Arabian mythology, the qarînah (قرينة) is a spirit similar to the succubus, with origins possibly in ancient Egyptian religion or in the animistic beliefs of pre-Islamic Arabia. A qarînah "sleeps with the person and has relations during sleep as is known by the dreams."They are said to be invisible, but a person with "second sight" can see them, often in the form of a cat, dog, or other household pet."In Omdurman it is a spirit which possesses. ... Only certain people are possessed and such people cannot marry or the qarina will harm them."To date, many African myths claim[citation needed] that men who have similar experience with such principality (succubus) in dreams (usually in form of a beautiful woman) find themselves exhausted as soon as they awaken; often claiming spiritual attack upon them. Local rituals/divination are often invoked in order to appeal the god for divine protection and intervention.In India, the succubus is referred to as Yakshini and are mythical beings within Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain mythology. Yakshinis are the female counterpart of the male Yaksha, and they are attendees of Kubera, the Hindu god of wealth who rules in the mythical Himalayan kingdom of Alaka. They are the guardians of the treasure hidden in the earth and resemble fairies. Yakshinis are often depicted as beautiful and voluptuous, with wide hips, narrow waists, broad shoulders, and exaggerated, spherical breasts.In the field of medicine, there is some belief that the stories relating to encounters with succubi bear resemblance to the contemporary phenomenon of people reporting alien abductions,[which has been ascribed to the condition known as sleep paralysis. It is therefore suggested that historical accounts of people experiencing encounters with succubi may rather have been symptoms of sleep paralysis, with the hallucination of the said creatures coming from their contemporary culture.
Many, including King James[disambiguation needed], have also correlated the succubi to wet dreams, or nocturnal emission. During the time when succubus lore was created, any sexual activities that were not purposefully procreative were considered sinful. The succubi may well have been an explanation for men who could not control their biological function, yet wanted to stay faithful to their society.Church scholars have long debated about the true nature of the incubus and succubi and sin committed in contact with them. Some thought it was the same demon, sexually asexual at the base, who could become an incubus or succubus, as the case may be. He could gather the seed of a man and pass it on to a woman, which was a very simple excuse to explain an adulterous pregnancy.
VHH 1751 mit neuer Werbung für das Musical "Cirque du Soleil - Paramour":
VHH 1751 | HH-V 9751 | Schenefeld, Kiebitzweg | 04.09.2018
She is from the TV series Zen about an Italian cop and Tanya was his hot paramour who would disturb the force when ever she would drop by the police station! Her name as an actress was Catarina, also an excellent name, but Tanya won out.
Pilladas in fraganti . Esta madrugada escondidas entre las callejuelas del barrio viejo , la Luna abrazaba a Venus , amores lesbianos que solo la salida del Sol ocultó . No sé lo que diran sus maridos Zeus y Vulcano ...
The cover of the Israeli fashion-magazin "Silhouette/Силуэт", N7, July, 2006 with announcement of the interview with me (in the heading "Autograph"). "Silhouette" - is a monthly fashion-supplement to the daily "Week-News" (Publishing House "Novosti Nedeli")
(Svp, see my notes on the photo above)
=====================================================
Just a Note (Russian-language mass-media in Israel):
====================================================
In Israel are living near 1 million Israeli People who have
Russian background. So...
There are several Israeli TV-channels on Russian language.
There is a special State Israel Radio "REKA". "REKA" - Kol Israel
Radio Station in Foreign Languages with a huge
Besides, more than 28 Israeli newspapers (daily and
weekly) published in Russian Language - specially for
them. One in one like English-speaking Israelites have
their own English-language daily "Jerusalem Post "
As well there are many monthly magazins in Russian
Language, published in Israel. However, among them
there are only 2 fashion-magazines(monthly):
I.
Силуэт/.Silhoette - just a monthly
fashion-supplement to an Israeli Russian-language
weekly "Novosti Nedeli" (Publishing House "Novosti Nedeli")
II
- a monthly fashion-supplement to an Israeli
Russian-language daily "Vesti" (Publishing
House "Ediot Achronot")
And what is more nice - both of them already published
interviews with me this year!
===================================================
Well, what"s the difference between Israeli
Russian-language mass-media and mass-media
from Russia?
This difference is enormous.
The main theme of Israeli Russian-language mass-media -
is specifically local, Israeli life, Israeli problems, Israeli
customs, culture and so on. Financial sources of this
mass-media are Israeli. Location - Israel as well.
While the main theme of mass-media from Russia -
is Russia by itself, specifically Russian life, Russian
problems, Russian policy, Russian foreign relations,
Russian customs, culture and so on. Financial sources
of this mass-media are Russian. Location - Moscow
as well.
You see, this difference is too evident!
==================================================
P.S.
Besides, every country has it's own foreign correspondents
and mass-media representatives in Israel. As for
example CNN and BBC have thier own Jerusalem or
Haifa correspondents etc... In order to have more
objective and more independant coverage of the
current Israeli events.
And Russia as well has its'own mass-media
foreign representatives in Israel (and vice versa!). They
are - 3 Moscow TV-companies have their own
commands in Israel.
Besides, 2 most big Russian
News Agencies have thier own
representatives in Israel.
They are News Agencies "ITAR-TASS"
and "RIA-NOVOSTI" (please, do
not mix up with local Israeli News Agencies!)
==================================================
N.B.
BTW, during a vast period of time I by myself was
working as an Israeli correspondent of the State
Moscow Radio-station "Voice of Russia"
(" Golos Rossii") and of a very huge Moscow
private daily "Moscow Komsomolets" (with a
circulation in Russia near 3 millions copies!)
And more than 60 of my interviews with celebrities,
stars and VIP-persons made in Israel for Moscow
mass-media appeared to be my first book DRESS FOR THE FIRST LADY.
NOTES by DIPLOMAT"s WIFE
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.
I'm not quite sure what Ms. Della Roux is doing in these photos, she's either waiting until the last minute to get dressed, so her clothes don't get wrinkled, or she's patiently (or impatiently) waiting on her paramour to arrive. He did send flowers ahead of the date.
This was an impromptu shoot, but I love how it came out.
This is the first time I've taken Della out of the box since I got her in 2023. I never know why it takes me so long, especially when the doll is as gorgeous as this one. I couldn't help but take several photos.
Head: LeLUTKA Prim Head 3.1
Lashes: Void + Minttea - Demure Lashes - Prim
Hair: TRUTH Twisted - Redhead
Nails: BLOOM - WITCH NAILS [STILLETO COLLECTION] eBODY
Horns: !13ACT - Vi Horns - basic (need add-on for color)
Makeup:
-SU!- Funeral Eyeshadow Blue (With Highlighter)
#cloud9 Pierced Heart Liner Set - EVOX BOM
Rockwell - Cupcake Blush - EVOX BOM
K.BEAUTY - AMON LIPS - LELUTKA EVO - EVO X
Clothing:
Top: .UNICORN. TOP JANE // TEDDY // (ebody reborn)
Skirt: (*<*) 1313 Abby Skirt - Black Tweed (ebody.rb)
Gloves: Normandy-KO.Leathers (ebody reborn)
Socks: Morass. BOM Fishnet Stockings (MAZE)
Garters: [VERBOTEN] Tish Garter (ebody reborn MAZE)
Accessories:
Dots - Octopus Takeout - Red+Black
[ bubble ] Bear Light Headband
Insomnia Angel . kawaii braces (Lel)
PUNCH / Spiral Septum Swirl
- TRIGGERED - Paramour glasses (BOXED)
[Litten] Ymir Choker [Black]
:*:CPD:*: Heartagram Necklace
MG - Necklace - Ankh - Gold - V2
Kibitz - Evil ring set - gold (ebody reborn)
^^Swallow^^ Earrings Pixie Gauged S06 (f/m)
[VERBOTEN] {dark} Ville Weights
PUNCH / Nose Piercing / Heart Diamond (LeL Prim)
~LF~ Zoya (LeL Evo - Prim)
The Watcher in the woods
Pursuing the Posh
A Cat Burglar Saga
From the files of Chatwick University Criminology Department.
C.B. Case Study 13 , File B
Subset Source: Journal
Subject “Harley Q” -- Real name?
ORIGINATION STORY:
flic.kr/p/BcnW2J
Synopsis:
The young lady was approaching sweet sixteen if I estimated accurately. She was clad in a tailored dress of bronze velvet that shone richly over her lithe figure. Her long blonde hair tied in back, flickered like a horses’’ tail. She had come bounding from a ladies powder chamber, one of several located at either end of the grand ballroom that sat off the formal dining rooms.
I fell in step behind her, watching as her splendid jewelry bounced merrily as she pranced along like some untried colt, sorry filly. Her pearls were lovely things, a matched set, double strands all, real diamond clasps, shone gleaming with a pristine whiteness that reminded me of fresh snow.
The pearls were a sweet lure, of that there was no doubt; but apologies if I am prattling n a bit about them, for after all, what is a jewel thief who fails to notice a ladies jewels? A starving bugger, that’s who.
Now I have found out during my times here on the earth that I can make quite a profit from burgling the safes of wealthy ladies whilst they slept peacefully within their fancy chambres. But I had started out walking my morally tainted chosen path by picking the pockets of the unwary along the way. It was my fate to eventually discover the delightfully chilling sensation that was experienced when lifting the very jewels displayed by unsuspecting female targets. And this was still my guilty pleasure, to the point that I would still take that far riskier venture of lifting worn jewelry whenever opportunity arose, which was quite often in my travelled circles.
So, that is why I habitually started to follow this meandering youth, only because of her jewels, which I found to be quite vexing. Especially her earrings, a dangling set held to her ears by genuine diamond studded hinge clasps. I had seldom attempted sets of worn earrings, not for the lack of desire, and with this one’s head just reaching me chest, it was a very tempting prospect to try and pluck em both off just to see?
Fortunately, for her (not me), this pretty miss was a bit too young for my standards to make any attempt to lift from her any of the swinging pearls, earrings or otherwise. I do prefer my marks to be a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more of a challenge to my abilities, thank you very much! Besides, I had already had my eye on a few other, challenging female prospects wearing some rather nice pieces in their own right. Including one sapphire laden Lass in a silky frock that had greatly provoked my attentiveness.
So I just followed this young one while she skirted the ballroom and entered a dining area. There she rejoined, what were quite obviously, her parents.
There were, it appeared, just the three of them, no older jewel laden siblings in sight. But, speaking of appearances, the Mother certainly presented a rather nice one, and so I stopped to drink it all in.
The mother/wife was fluidly clad in an all so elegant purple satin number, poured rather snugly along her still quite lovely figure. Said figure had been made even more eye catching (especially for me) by being emblazon with a matching set of jewels, all set with small 1 caret white diamonds, encircling her neck, wrists and fingers with energetic ripples of fiery colour.
She was with her husband, a distinguished looking gent in tails who may have passed as a Barrister, for which all I knew he was. Now Sandwiched in between was their charming young daughter, who was happily chatting away without a care in the world. Her pristine pearls still dangling, mocking me it would seem, to just make the one exception and attempt to take them home with me. I just smiled to wickedly to myself, maybe someday I would I promised them, once their young mistress had grown up a bit, then we would see who was mocking whom from the wickets!
But I did not dwell too long on such thought’s , or on the pretty family either, for, like I have revealed, I had other fish frying, and only am mentioning this particular incident because of what would occur in two days hence. So after a bit I turned and began wandering off.
But then, speaking of starving jewel thieves, I observed at the precise moment I turned away, a most stunning red head wearing a long black gown that fluttered about, here and there, in a most alluring fashion. She was making a beeline towards the very same powder chamber I had just passed. She was obviously in a rush to reach it, and once I laid my eyes on the pearls she was wearing, I moved towards her in an equally purposeful stride. I intercepted her, letting her bump against me, as I stepped on the hem of her long gown. She stopped abruptly, and I momentarily placed an arm around her smooth waist, steadying her as I apologized and begged the ladies pardon for my clumsiness.
She begrudgingly accepted my apologies, and I watched as she scurried off, having already pocketed the pearled bracelet I had slipped from her red satin gloved wrist, and made my own path. I smirked to myself that the bracelet was some consolation for not having an unscrupulous go for the pearls that had hung around the young daughter’s throat, hung from her ears, and encircled one petite wrist, as I stole one last look back towards the pretty families’ table.
I walked away, turning my attentions back to relocating a certain lady elegantly wearing a silky frock, displaying those magnificent sapphires. I was watching, waiting for her to leave, in order to follow to her next stop, eventually hoping to be led to her last, having decided to acquire the fair damsel’s collection of jewels enmasse!
***** Two productive evenings later ****************
It was at a wedding reception the 2 evenings later that I again, quite un-expectantly, spied the Barrister and his entourage.
I had been having a delightful chat with the newly minted wife of the titled Scion of a rather old family. I had won the sweepstakes of receiving a dance with the charming Miss. But alas my chat was cut short as she was whisked away to dance with yet another admirer. I watched as she swept off, my hand reaching into me breast pocket, fingering a still warm diamond brooch. That jewel had been merrily dangling down from her satin gowns’ cleavage, over shadowed by her ample bosom. As we had danced, I had managed to work open its silvery clasp, and lift the brooch cleanly away. My hidden vest pocket also contained at the time a rather pretty ring with a blue carbuncle surrounded by sparkly diamonds. Said ring had been wrapped around the finger of a rather vexing long raven haired lass. I had admired the silken dress she was wearing, and as she had happily swirled and twirled to give me a better look, I had taken the opportunity to relieve her finger of its burden. Since I was only allowing meself a couple of prospects with an affair this small, I now made my way, leisurely, contentedly, towards an exit (stage right as they say in the trades).
But, no sooner had I put me back to the dance floor, than whom do I spy across the room? That rather delightful miss with a long blonde ponytail, who was now dressed elegantly in cream lace, that I had spied at dinner a few evenings back. It was the very same young lady, wearing the same set of mocking white pearls, and as I discreetly draw near, I soon spied her parents.
The “Barrister” was dapper in crisp white shirt and tux, with a fancy gold pocket watch and fob at his waist. The daughter’s look alike mother was now smartly encased in a fitted red gown that shimmered delightfully as it swished about. She was also wearing a nice display of brite emeralds to boot.
This time I took closer notice of the Mothers Jeweles. Between the emeralds today and the diamonds the night before, this lady in red could be a nice meal ticket if the stars were aligned properly. And so it turned out they very happily (for me) did.
With a few discreet questions from some acquaintances quickly garnered for just such information, I found out where my “Barrister” and his family were spending their late evenings asleep. It so happened that they were staying in a penthouse suite 3 floors above my own modest single. So instead of leaving the reception to scout out a way to gain easy access to their rooms, I could stay and enjoy myself, already being all too familiar with the place. Which I did, later acquiring a gold jeweled bracelet from a charming maiden attired delightfully in teal satin, who had kept flaunting her jewels in me face as she told me all about her perfect self. Another jewel added for my growing collection of the evening.
Now, don’t ask me why I was so familiar with my hotels’ penthouse suites, being a cat burglar, the reasons should be quite clear! So when the pretty family left the reception early, around 9 pm returning to their rooms, I was able to follow them with less discretion then I usually do, but still with growing eager anticipation. Also, even more remarkably, they were in bed and asleep by 10:30 pm, which allowed me a much earlier window of opportunity than I had grown accustomed to having.
And so it was, that soon after the stroke of midnight, with the happy family deep in their slumbers that I, wearing my black burgling attire, climbed onto the balcony of their rooms. After jimmying open the double glass doors with my Fairborn dagger, I found myself in a small sitting room. Carefully allowing my torch to search around I spied a door on the far end. Opening it cautiously, the first thing I see are the daughters pricey pearls piled loosely on a vanity by the bed where she lay sleeping, dressed in white, looking ever so like the angel she is. I picked up the necklace of pearls, eyeing them as I watch the slumbering figure on the bed. But I passed the pretty things up, for even though I am a thief by nature, I do possess some scruples, albeit maybe a little warped! Besides, those taunting pearls had led me to the small treasure trove that was awaiting me in her Mothers’ chambers. So with a silent thanks, I replaced them upon the vanity, and move off…
The parents were found in the next room, soundly sleeping off their alcohol induced haze. The mother was draped over her husband, fetchingly clad in a long satin nightdress that looked almost like an evening gown. Her vulgarly large wedding diamonds flickered pleasantly from her finger as I let my torch sneak up along her shimmering figure. On the bed stand laid the “Barristers” gold watch and a rather pleasing selection of his wife’s gold “day” jewelry, but I passed the lot up, my eyes looking for the good stuff that would be snuggled inside the small room safe that I knew would be behind a false door in one side of the oak dresser ( having already discovered that fact a year previously in a different room of the same hotel)!
I went directly to it, and opening the cabinet door, began to use my finely attuned skills to crack it. It was a simple American lock and only took me a minute to have open. I than emptied the small collection of jewel cases ( lovely things) placing them into my small sack. I also find inside the mothers small clutch purse made expensively of red silk and rhinestones, that had been at her side all evening. Out of curiosity (why in the safe?) I placed it inside my bag with the jewels. After checking that the parents were still out cold, I closed the safe, flickering my torch around one last time, it settles upon her red gown, and its emerald rhinestone clips coming blazing into lively flame. I passed on them, and headed back out towards the door. I had almost regained it, and my freedom, when the husband let out a loud snort, and I heard rustling going on in the bed behind me. I froze and carefully looked back. Neither had woken, but the wife had turned onto her side, and her left hand was now hanging limply over the side of the bed. I watched as the diamonds set in the gold ring encircling her slender finger blazed into life (the ring was somewhat loose I keenly noticed)! Blimey, there was enough dosh in the value of that ring that would have paid for all the expenses of the Cardiff C.C. for an entire season, perhaps 2! But, Bird in the Hand, I am always telling meself, so I left the pretty thing dangling there, and finished my careful retreat. I made it out without further incident.
Passing the daughters room ( and her pearls again), I checked in. The young filly was still was sound asleep in her own pleasant dreams, her taunting pile of pearls still on the vanity, where they would remain. I regained the balcony and slipping over, made my way down to the window of my own room.
Back in my room I empty my sack, the pile of jewels flickering in a frenzy of colours. I admire the little darlings briefly before stashing them. I than pick up the purse and open it. Inside amongst the usual feminy items, I found a letter. Looking at it my heart, already beating quickly from the exhilaration of being on the prowl, skipped one beat, for it was addressed to the lady whose jewels I now possessed, and it was an address of an area I knew quite well. I thought about her address, the house she presumably shared with husband and daughter, the house which should be empty seeing its owners were sleeping just three floors above me. A house that was little over an hour away, only about ¾ of that hour by driving my Lotus. It was a house that I figuratively knew; being in the same neighborhood (relatively speaking) of a house I had reconnoitered and quite lucratively burgled the previous spring.
It was perfect. While the family was asleep snug in their beds here, I could reach their abode, with its jewel laden safe ( they all had jewel laden safes in that area), ½ hour to creep the place, an hour to do the job proper and I would be back in time to catch a two hour kip and be checked out and on my way before the pretty family have had breakfast. It, bears repeating, was perfect.
I looked at the envelope, was its contents that valuable that she felt the need to lock it up. More than mildly curious, I pulled it out and read it. It was from someone named Samuel. In no uncertain terms, he was informing the lady that for only ₤5000 sterling he would leave for the States and never bother her Daughter Claire again. I thought of the young girl asleep in the suite I had just left. What kind of Scoundrel would lure a young girl like that into his clutches with the intent of extorting her parents! For a moment I pondered this bit of information, before deciding that the opportunity was too ripe to pass up just because I felt a small twinge of compassion. Besides, if the parents could afford to cough up a cool 5 thousand, they weren’t hurting in the financial department.
I changed, and quickly gathered my things and headed out quietly via a back entrance. Placing my burgle kit (containing the ladies jewels) into the boot of me two seater, I fired up the lotus’s engine and was off on my little undertaking!
A half hour away I turned down a little used rutty road/path. Pulling over I grabbed my burgle kit and headed down to some ancient stone ruins. Checking to make sure none of my warning snares had been tripped, I entered a small stone building. Going down into one of its old, crumbling basements, I uncovered a small cubby and added the jewels to the growing collection of my recent takings.
Included in the collection were sets of pearls burgled from a coach stop overnight room occupied by a pair of fairly insufferable spinster sisters. Other burgled items were a rather pretty , if not vulgarly large, diamond set obtained from a naive damsel who thought hiding them under the pillow she slept on was safer than a safe, (always happy to enlighten someone upon the error of their ways that’s me), and of course the sapphires that the lass in the silky frock had been wearing 2 nights previous ( along with some rather nice sets of rubies and diamond adorned amethysts that had lain in the same safe, located above her soundly sleeping figure! ) The rest of the lot consisted of items I had “picked up” while on the prowl: a nice collection of brooches, rings, bracelets, and an eye-catching sapphire pendent hanging from a diamonded chain.
I than closed everything up, rechecked my warning snares, and headed back to my Lotus.
Another 30 minutes and I had reached my destination.
The house itself was pretty secluded, located by an intersection of two lanes. I drove its perimeter than doubling back found a pull off. I backed up and turned down and off the road hiding the small sports car in a grove of pines.
Already wearing some of my burglar attire, (black military trousers and sweater), I placed a hood over my head, pulled out my small kit, fastening a torch and military knife to my belt, I was off. The house appeared to be deserted, I found the servants quarters located at the back of the house over a small barn, the only cars were a small sports car in a shed, and a roadster sitting out front. A large garden surrounded by hedges lay to the west of the house, a larger Tudor, with several porches and balconies. Using the hedges as cover, I shimmed up an old tree located by a balcony, and slipping onto the balcony proper, I made my way to the door. Shimmed the latch with my Fairborn commando knife, and then entered into a side bedroom. I was looking for the master suite, and this was not it, the daughter’s by all appearances. I spied a small ornate silver box on a table, but passed it up , on the search for bigger game!
Turning on my torch I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. At the end was a set of double mahogany doors and this is where I set my sights. Along the hallway wall were several rather nice paintings (not copies) and I let the pool of my light flicker along them. Included in the lot was a small painting of a young fox, half asleep, eyeing something in the distance? I stood for precious seconds admiring it, and then turned my attention to the mahogany doors. They were not locked, and I cautiously, very slowly, opened one. Pay dirt! A large empty canopied bed stood in the middle of the room, a love seat to one side, a settee on the other, and directly across from the bed a large ornate sideboard with mirror. Along one side of the wall was a series of chains with different rooms labelled underneath, presumably connected to bells in those rooms. It definitely belonged to the mistress of the house, and, hopefully, her jewels.
I let my light flow over the room, avoiding the window and glass door that led out onto another balcony. I soon spotted the location of the safe; it was behind an old painting of a Harlequin. Said Harlequin was standing on a black and white checked tile floor, as he looked inquisitively into his own reflection from an ornate wall mirror. The painting was located on the wall between the corner and the intricately carved oak sideboard. I slid back the painting on its hinges, exposing the small safe.
It was exactly the same safe as their neighbors, the ones I had burgled clean in the spring. Quickly getting to work I spin the tumblers, listening intently for the correct paths of clicks. Bingo! , it opened up like a dream. Inside I found a bonanza of about a dozen small jewel cases handedly printed with the jewelers names (Cartier and Tiffany’s amongst them! ) I quickly open and empty their contents into my kit, pouring out a delightfully pricey array of colorful gems of all types and styles. Replacing the empty cartons, I rummage around, finding a small stack of gold and silver coins and a couple of bundles of notes, currency of the realm. I favorably pocket the lot.
Suddenly I freeze, hearing the unmistakable sounds of muffled giggling from down the corridor. Closing the safe and picture I back off and hide inside a closet, wishing I had had the foresight to have opened the balcony door to see if that had offered escape, but I had been so sure I would be alone that evening that I had let me guard slacken a bit. I hoped that whoever it was they were heading off to bed.
They were off to bed, problem was it was the bed in the room I was in for which they were heading. I heard the door open, and from the crack in the closet door, I saw a young couple come in, tipsy and fondling the heck out of one another. The female was obviously an older daughter of the house, a mini version of the mother and her sister. She was resplendent in a long flowing cream satin evening gown; her paramour was a beady eyed, weasely faced chap in loose fitting tux and tails. It must have been his roadster outside; the couple must have been snogging in the garden, and drinking wine, judging from the smell and the way they were acting. Again I kicked myself for not checking the grounds more thoroughly. But why hadn’t the bloody twit of a daughter been at the wedding with her family where she belonged? But a bit later I was to reason that if she had, I would have been tempted to lift a diamond bracelet, and me path may have ended there. Missing out entirely, the opportunity to burgle the contents of 2 bedroom safes, master and penthouse!
They headed right to the bed, (doing it on the parents bed, and old cracker that was) the lady not even taking off her long satin gloves, just falling onto the bed with her doe wide eyes gleaming, while her beady eyed lover was falling all over her. Oh god! Samuel, I heard her mummer in passion. My eyes were opened, this must be the daughter Claire, and the beady eyed bloke was the infamous Samuel. Now it made a little more sense, but not any less wicked. I watched them in a new light, my mind going a full mile a minute trying to see a way out of the situation. . “Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans” I muttered an old saying in French, chastising myself inwardly for taking on such a gamble rushed for time.
Now, I am certainly no voyeur, and my belief that some things private, are, well private! But actually, in this instance, there was no choice. I tried not to watch, but the couple’s raw, animal like lovemaking and all its trimmings were happening just feet away. I began to amuse myself by watching the flashy show put on by the daughter’s sparkling jewels and the fluidly movement of her shiny, slinking gown as they were caught in the moonlight that streamed thru the glass of the balcony door. It was the type of show that engrosses any jewel thief worth his salt (hell, any bloke worth his salt for that matter). My mind also kept going back to the letter that I had found in the red silk purse and I hoped that a way would open to cause “Mr.” Samuel some sort of grief.
Beady eyes comes onto her, driving her mind off everything but what he is doing, as her eyes are closed tight, his are open, looking about. I slink in a little more into the shadows, keeping his face in my view. Occasionally a white satin gloved hand appears, rings and bracelets sparkling in a frenzied flickering as her fingers grip his face. Suddenly his eyes open wide as he looks towards the painting of the Harlequin. Cripes I mutter as I look there also, for on the floor lies a diamond bracelet, the fancy bugger must have slipped out as I scurried to my hole. I prepare to bolt like a fox hiding close to where the hounds are heading (my mind went to the painting of the watchful fox in the hallway outside the bedroom).
But beady eyes says nothing..
He finished the job, with her squealing like a piglet, before she slumps back exhaustedly onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing became heavier as she lost all drink induced conscious. I watched as her lover’s half closed eye stayed focused on the bracelet, as he listened to her breathing become heavier. When he was sure she was asleep he slipped off and heading to the vanity scooped up the bracelet and placed it inside a pocket of his tux’s vest. He then crawls back next to her, gently fingering her diamond rings before (finally) joining her into heavy, wine induced sleep alongside.
It seemed like hours, but the whole episode, by me watch, lasted only a ¾ of hour, but it was a precious time I could ill afford to have lost atoll.
I was running late, but knew what I had to do next. Walking over to the pair I watched them for a few seconds, plotting my next course of action. Her jewels were flickering nicely in the moon’s light.
I reached down an lifting ever so gently one still gloved lifeless feminine hand, I slipped off a couple of sparkly rings from satin clad fingers, and unfastened a tight cuff bracelet emblazon with diamonds from around her wrist. Then I lifted the other hand, easily gliding off another brace of glistening rings from her fingers, and a second diamonded bracelet from her limp wrist. Than lifting her necklace of diamonds, I pulled it gently around admiring the way they rippled fire along her throat, till its jeweled clasp was exposed. Then I slowly pry open the jeweled clasp, and slipped the necklace away, watching it sway in the moonlight like a glistening snake. They were both still out cold, It wasn’t really very much of a challenge, not that I was complaining mind you.
I happily pocketed the lot, except for a cheaper ring. I swapped that ring for the diamond bracelet in Samuel’s vest pocket, hoping that the outcome would prove interesting. In the process of placing the ring in the Sammy boy’s vest, I came across his fat pocketbook, which I gladly lifted and added to the collection in my own now bulging pocket.
I then left the room, leaving quietly by stepping upon the soles of my feet. As I pass the small painting of the watching fox, I pull it off and stick it into my kit, a bonus for me extra worries. I than slip back through the daughter’s bedroom, its door now slightly ajar.
In a corner of the room lay the small silvery jewelry case I had passed up earlier thinking it was the younger daughters. But, I hesitated, wondering to which daughter the room belonged, for someone had slightly opened the door for a reason? I shook my head, no chances. But, wait a minute, I grinned as my thoughts grew ever more pleasing. I walked over to the small table that held the ornate silver jewel case (casket was what my Gram had called hers), above it was a small picture of the family daughters in full riding regalia, the older daughter, Claire, had a small pin of a fox in her shiny white satin caveat.
I bent down and opening the small case. There on top was the fox pin, glittering with brownish Sardonyx gemstones and bright red ruby eyes. I plucked it up and added it to my sparkling collection. Then I admired the shimmery collection of gold and pearled jewelry (no lowly silver for this lass). Selecting the better ones I placed them with the fox pin and the Mothers jewels in my kit, then scooping out the rest, I placed them in unceremoniously in a side pocket.
I then went back out the balcony and down the tree. I headed over to the roadster out front and taking out a few of the lesser jewels I had scooped into me pocket, and I began placing them in and underneath the passenger seat of the vehicle.
Finished I admired my handiwork, then looking leisurely around, let out a deep sigh of absolute relief, mixed with exquisite feelings of pleasure of an adventuer winningly pulled off, before melting off into the shadows of the woods. I soon reached my lotus, gunned the engine to life, and then proceeded to slowly drive off without headlights until I reach the main road.
I once again stopped at my hidden cubby and deposited my burglar’s kit and purloined jewels with the rest of my stash, reset my snares, and headed quickly back to the hotel.
I reached my destination just at cock crow, went upstairs and finished packing. It was later than I had anticipated, so no kip for the sinners. I just loaded my luggage into the boot of the two seater, checked my key in at the desk, settled my bill, and headed for a quick breakfast.
But I wasn’t quick enough, for about halfway through my breakfast The “Barrister” and his family came down to have the same. They appeared to be calm, so I knew that my activities earlier that morning had not been exposed yet.
I pushed aside my almost finished plate and standing, walked past them, allowing the daughter, who was clad in a silky skirt and matching satiny top, and wearing those taunting white pearls of hers, to bump into me as she pranced to their table. Steady girl I says, catching her as I eye for the last time her dangling jewelry. So sorry sir, she replied apologetically. I complimented her parents on their charming daughter. The father, in a formal suit and tie, grunts his thanks. The mother, in a scintillatingly swishing long red skirt, and heavy cream silk blouse, blushes prettily. I look over her plentiful “everyday” jewelry as I take their leave. What she was wearing for a normal day of activates was expensive enough to catch any thief’s desire to acquire.
As I walked away, a vision of her walking the streets, dressed as she was, back in Dickens London formed in my thoughts. She attracted the notice of a small street urchin, his devious heart pounding as he left huis vigil from the wall he had been leaning against too closely follow her as she swished by. Catching up to her in the hopes of brushing against her and with a sorry ma’am, walk away with some of it.
This was actually from a memory of mine ( long after Dickens time though) about an incident I had witnessed while working at my old uncles “eel and mash” shop.
A finely decked out young couple (the long haired lady wearing pearls as it so happened) had been inside the shop and finishing their meal, had walked out across the street. A street youth had been hanging out by the shop and had followed them across the street close on their heels. They all turned a corner, so I never knew what had happened, if anything ( which I sincerely doubted)! But that image had plagued many an unsettling adolescent dream with images of finely dressed ladies bending down to a begging young grimy faced lad, well ringed fingers and bracelets jangling as a coin was offered, gold lockets or pearls swaying out from tightly satin clad breasts to just within the reach of his grubby fingers….
I have come to believes that it was the seeds planted in my mind by those dreams that may have very well guided and nudged me onto the course I have continued following to this day.
So, naturally I guess, as I walked away my train of thoughts took a similar course as those dreams/nightmares. I imagined the mother I had just left, walking along a street alone, dressed as she was last evening, the jewels that were now in a cold small cubby, once again upon her figure, glittering their fiery beacon. Then suddenly her daughter, dressed as she was now, was strolling alongside her. The street urchin I had seen that morning so long ago was here also, following close, eyeing the ladies reflected jewels in a storefront window as they walked past……
But at that point in my daydream I realized that I had reached and was standing beside my two seater, and shaking my head clear of such thoughts (once again, sadly not seeing the outcome) I happily hopped over the door and into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine, and quite eagerly pulled away from the hotel and roared down the road.
I stopped by my secret cubby, and without haste, fully on the alert, made my way down to the basement. I collected my stash and made it back to the Lotus without incident. Lighting me pipe, I smiled to meself, promising a nice stiff one once I got back to the abode. I pulled away, slowly, cheerfully, driving down the warm sunlit road. I was now on to new quests, filled with promises of many lucrative acquisitions.
One of those quests was wrapped around a young lady in Soho, who recently had inherited a jewellery collection worth ₤25,000 which she loved wearing out in public, flaunting the richly jeweled pieces all about whenever she could. The quite, almost vulgarly rich, young lass had so many Beaus seeking her affections that she was being invited out almost weekly out to some special dress up affair. This all made her overly ripe for the plucking by some jewelry procurement minded thief. And being one meself, a jewel thief that is, I intended to be the first in line.
Once I returned home, I first visited my London banks strongbox to deposit my newly acquired ” glittering with fire” trophies to let them “cool” down a bit. Then I made sure the Yard received an anonymous post. Said post containing a red silk evening clutch, inside which was beady eyes’ pocketbook( sans money) along with the letter incriminating one certain rogish gent by the name of Samuel for attempting extortion of 5000 pounds sterling from the fair Claire’s Mother. I know how the chaps in the inspector’s squad so love a mystery!
And so, for now dear journal, I bid farewell, adieu.
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Si vous voulez faire rire Dieu , faire des plans
Roughly translated:
If you want to make God laugh, Make plans
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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Spanish postcard by CyA, Barcelona, no. 1047. Photo: 20th Century Fox / Radio Films, S.A.E. Stephen Boyd in The Inspector (Philip Dunne, 1962).
Handsome British actor Stephen Boyd (1931-1977) preferred to play character parts, but he had the looks of a leading man. Boyd appeared in some 60 films, most notably as the villainous Messala in Ben-Hur (1959), a role that earned him the Golden Globe Award. His other suvcccesses included The Bravados (1958),The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964), Fantastic Voyage (1966) and Shalako (1968).
Stephen Boyd was born William Millar in 1931 in Glengormley, Northern Ireland. Boyd was the youngest of nine siblings born to Irish/Canadian parents, truck driver James Alexander Millar and his wife Martha Boyd. Billy attended the local Public Elementary School and Ballyclare High School, but at the age of fourteen Boyd quit school to take up other jobs to help support his family. He worked in an insurance office and travel agency during the day and rehearsed with a semi-professional acting company at night during the week and weekends. He would eventually manage to be on the list for professional acting companies to call him when they had a role. He eventually joined the Ulster Group Theater where he learned the behind the scenes tasks of the theatre. He became well known in Belfast for his contributions as a gravel-voiced policeman on the Ulster Radio program The McCooeys, the story of a Belfast family written by Joseph Tomelty. Boyd eventually worked his way up to character parts and then starring roles. By nineteen he had toured Canada with summer stock companies. In 1950 he made a coast to coast tour of America with the Clare Tree Major Company In A Streetcar Named Desire, he played the lead role as Stanley Kowalski. Boyd would later recall this as “the best performance I ever gave in my life.” By the time he was twenty, Boyd had a wide range of theatre experience, but he longed for the big stage. In 1952 Boyd moved to London as an understudy in an Irish play, The Passing Day. Boyd nearly died during the great flu epidemic in London in 1952. He worked in a cafeteria and busked outside a cinema in Leicester Square to get money as he was literally close to starvation. Boyd caught his first break as a doorman at the Odeon Theatre. The Leicester Square Cinema across the street recruited him to usher attendees during the British Academy Awards in the early 1950s. During the awards ceremony he was noticed by actor Sir Michael Redgrave, who used his connections to introduce Boyd to the director of the Windsor Repertory Group. At this point Boyd’s stage career in the U.K. began to flourish with performances in The Deep Blue Sea and Barnett’s Folly. Boyd’s first role which brought him acclaim was as an Irish spy in the film The Man Who Never Was (Ronald Neame, 1956) with Cliffton Webb, based on the book by Ewen Montagu. Shortly thereafter he signed a ten-year contract with 20th Century Fox studios, who began prepping him for Hollywood. But it would be a while until Boyd actually set foot on a Hollywood back-lot. Boyd’s next stop was Portugal to make A Hill in Korea (Julian Amyes, 1956), which also featured future stars Michael Caine and Robert Shaw. In June 1956, Boyd was cast in the nautical, ship-wreck adventure Seven Waves Away/Abandon Ship! (Richard Sale, 1956) starring Tyrone Power. This was filmed in the summer of 1956 in London where the British Navy built a huge 35,000 gallon water tank for the film. In November 1956, Boyd traveled to the British West Indies as part of a large ensemble cast in Darryl Zanuck‘s racially provocative film Island in the Sun (Robert Rossen, 1957), based on the Alec Waugh novel.Boyd portrayed a young English aristocrat who becomes the lover of Joan Collins. Boyd would be loaned out to the J. Arthur Rank production of Seven Thunders (Beast of Marseilles), a World War II romance set in Nazi-occupied Marseilles. It was Boyd's most prominent starring film role yet.
After her success in Roger Vadim‘s Et Dieu... créa la femme/ And God Created Woman (1956), Brigitte Bardot was given the opportunity to cast her own leading man in her next film, the lusty romance Les bijoutiers du clair de lune/The Night Heaven Fell, (Roger Vadim, 1957). and she chose Stephen Boyd. Being in the Bardot spotlight added much to Boyd’s film credit, in addition to bringing him notice in Hollywood. Stephen Boyd finally arrived in Hollywood in January 1958 to take on his first true Hollywood role as the leader of a quartet of renegade outlaws in the Western The Bravados (Henry King, 1958), which starred Gregory Peck and Joan Collins. Even though this was a Hollywood production, the actually filming took place in Morelia, Mexico. After the filming of The Bravados was completed Boyd auditioned for the coveted role of Messala in Ben-Hur (William Wyler, 1958). Many other actors, including Victor Mature. Kirk Douglas, Leslie Nielsen and Stewart Granger had been considered for the part, but Stephen Boyd’s screen test convinced director William Wyler that he had found the perfect villain for his epic. Boyd was hurried off to join actor Charlton Heston in Rome in May 1958 to learn the chariot racing aspect of his role. Heston had already been practicing behind the chariot for weeks, so Boyd needed to learn the sport quickly. Later, Boyd described the filming experience of Ben-Hur in the Cinecittà Studios in Rome, as the most exciting experience of his life. Years after the film was released, interim Ben-Hur screen-writer and novelist Gore Vidal revealed that Boyd portrayed Messala with an underlying homosexual energy as instructed by Vidal when he greets Ben-Hur Charlton Heston in the opening sequence. In Gore Vidal’s autobiography Palimpsest, Vidal describes his discussion first with director William Wyler concerning Messala’s underlying motivation, that being that Messala and Judea Ben-Hur had previously been lovers. This was based on an idea by Vidal to enhance the tension between the two main antagonists. After Ben-Hur filming was completed, Boyd returned to Hollywood in early 1959 to star with Academy Award winner Susan Hayward in the Canadian-based drama Woman Obsessed (Henry Hathaway, 1959), and appeared in the adaptation of Rona Jaffe‘s novel The Best of Everything, (Jean Negulesco, 1959). Ben-Hur was released in December 1959 and made Boyd an international star overnight. His portrayal of the Roman tribune Messala brought in rave reviews. In early 1960 Boyd won the Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actor – Motion Picture for his performance in Ben-Hur.
Stephen Boyd himself chose to do roles which he felt comfortable in. His next choice was The Big Gamble (Richard Fleischer, Elmo Williams, 1961), which featured Darryl F. Zanuck‘s current paramour and French icon Juliette Gréco. The adventure of making this film almost outdid the adventure in the film itself as the crew slept in tents in the jungle that were guarded by natives on parole for cannibalism. Boyd nearly drowned in the Ardèche river during the making of the film. Boyd was originally chosen to play Mark Antony opposite Elizabeth Taylor in the epic production of Cleopatra (1963) under the direction of Rouben Mamoulian. He began film work in September 1960 but eventually withdrew from the problem-plagued production after Elizabeth Taylor’s severe illness postponed the film for months. Cleopatra was later directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, and the role of Mark Antony went to Richard Burton. After several months without active work, Boyd worked on The Inspector (Philip Dunne, 1962), renamed Lisa for the American release. It was based on the novel by Jan de Hartog and co- starred actress Dolores Hart. The film was made in Amsterdam , London and Wales during the summer of 1961. Boyd starred with Doris Day in the circus musical Billy Rose’s Jumbo (Charles Walters, 1962); the role earned Boyd a nomination for the Golden Globe Award for Best Actor – Motion Picture Musical or Comedy. In Rome Boyd acted with Gina Lollobrigida in her long-time pet project Venere imperiale/Imperial Venus (Jean Delannoy, 1962), a romantic epic about the many loves of Pauline Bonaparte, the sister of Napoleon. This film was the first film to be banned by the Motion Picture Association of America for male nudity. Boyd appeared in a humorous bedroom scene, naked, but covered by a sheet. The suggestion of nudity was too much for the censors and the film was never released in the United States. In Spain, he appeared in Samuel Bronston‘s massive production of The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964), directed by Anthony Mann. Boyd’s co-star was Sophia Loren. Although the film did well internationally when it was released in 1964, it was a box office failure in the United States and signaled the end of Roman epic. He then filmed the suspenseful The Third Secret (Charles Crichton, 1964) starring Jack Hawkins, Pamela Franklin and Sean Connery’s wife, Diane Cilento. In December, 1963, Stephen Boyd became a naturalized U.S. citizen. In 1964 Boyd continued to make films in Europe, traveling to Yugoslavia to star as the villain Jamuga in the epic Genghis Khan (Henry Levin, 1965). Boyd was the top billed and therefore the top paid star in the epic, and this apparently caused friction with up-and-coming star Omar Sharif. After completing Genghis Khan, Boyd trekked to Cairo for a brief appearance as the regal King Nimrod at The Tower of Babel in Dino de Laurentiis‘s production of The Bible (John Huston, 1966). Boyd returned to the United States to start work on the Science Fiction adventure Fantastic Voyage (Richard Fleischer, 1966), co-starring with Raquel Welch. Boyd then joined German star Elke Sommer and music legend Tony Bennett to film the Hollywood drama The Oscar (Russell Rouse, 1966), based on the eponymous Richard Sale novel. The film was a popular success, but maligned by film critics. In Iran he filmed his scenes for the United Nations film project Poppies Are Also Flowers (Terence Young, 1966) written by James Bond creator Ian Fleming. Two of Boyd’s projects were ranked among the top twenty-five grossing films of 1966; The Bible at number one and Fantastic Voyage at twenty-two. Next, Boyd starred in a spy thriller Assignment K (Val Guest, 1968) with Swedish model/actress Camilla Sparv. Boyd grew a full beard for his role as the iconic Irish playwright and critic George Bernard Shaw in the Off-Broadway play The Bashful Genius written by Harold Callen. This was Boyd’s first return to the stage since the mid-1950s, and he received excellent reviews.
In early 1968 Boyd was cast as the heavy opposite Sean Connery and Brigitte Bardot in the Western adventure Shalako (Edward Dmytryk, 1968) based on the Louis L’Amour novel. Shalako was filmed in the early part of 1968 in Almería, Spain. After returning to the United States, Boyd took the role of the cruel slave master Nathan MacKay in the Southern 'Slavesploitation' drama Slaves (Herbert J. Biberman, 1969), also starring Ossie Davis and songstress Dionne Warwick. The film was loosely based on the famous Harriet Beecher Stowe novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Buena Vista plantation near Shreveport, Louisiana. Closely following Slaves, Boyd starred in another story about racial tension, this time a World War II made-for-television drama called Carter’s Army/Black Brigade (George McCowan, 1970), featuring a young Richard Pryor. Boyd began his interest in L. Ron Hubbard‘s Church of Scientology, which would make him one of the first Hollywood stars to be involved in it. Boyd would star and narrate a Scientology recruiting film called Freedom (1970). There is no documentation of his later involvement with Scientology after the early 1970s. During the 1970s the demand for Boyd in Hollywood diminished, so he focused his attention on European films and several television pilots and shows. He made three films in Spain with director José Antonio Nieves Conde, including Marta (José Antonio Nieves Conde, 1970) with Marisa Mell, Historia de una traición/The Great Swindle (José Antonio Nieves Conde, 1971), and Casa Manchada (José Antonio Nieves Conde, 1975). He worked with cult director Romain Gary in the drug thriller Kill! (1971). He also made several Westerns, including Hannie Caulder (Burt Kennedy, 1971) with Raquel Welch (1971), Un hombre llamado Noon/The Man Called Noon (Peter Collinson, 1973) with Richard Crenna, and Rosanna Schiaffino, Campa carogna... la taglia cresce/Those Dirty Dogs (Giuseppe Rosati, 1973) with Gianni Garko, and Potato Fritz (Peter Schamoni, 1976) with Hardy Krüger. His last acting stint was a guest star on the popular television show Hawaii Five-O (1977.) His most critically acclaimed role during the 1970s was as a colourful Irish gangster in the UK crime thriller The Squeeze (Michael Apted, 1977) with Stacey Keach and David Hemmings. Boyd died of a massive heart attack on 2 June 1977 at the age of 45 while playing golf with his wife Elizabeth Mills at the Porter Valley Country Club in Northridge, California. Boyd was interred in Oakwood Memorial Park Cemetery in Chatsworth, California. Boyd was first married in 1958 to Italian-born MCA executive Mariella Di Sarzana during the filming of Ben-Hur. They separated after just three weeks. Boyd lived as a bachelor for most of his life and was wary of marriage after his first experience. His secretary Elizabeth Mills was a permanent resident at his Tarzana home during these years though the two did not marry until 1974. Raquel Welch would claim in 2013 that during the filming of Fantastic Voyage in 1965, she became infatuated with Boyd, who rejected her advances. In her comments she would imply that Boyd was gay, however no evidence of Stephen Boyd being a homosexual exists.
Sources: Brigitte Ivory (IMDb), Stephen Boyd Blog, Wikipedia and IMDb.
Vintage card. Photo: 20th Century Fox. Stephen Boyd in The Best of Everything (Jean Negulesco, 1959).
Handsome British actor Stephen Boyd (1931-1977) preferred to play character parts, but he had the looks of a leading man. Boyd appeared in some 60 films, most notably as the villainous Messala in Ben-Hur (1959), a role that earned him the Golden Globe Award. His other suvcccesses included The Bravados (1958),The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964), Fantastic Voyage (1966) and Shalako (1968).
Stephen Boyd was born William Millar in 1931 in Glengormley, Northern Ireland. Boyd was the youngest of nine siblings born to Irish/Canadian parents, truck driver James Alexander Millar and his wife Martha Boyd. Billy attended the local Public Elementary School and Ballyclare High School, but at the age of fourteen Boyd quit school to take up other jobs to help support his family. He worked in an insurance office and travel agency during the day and rehearsed with a semi-professional acting company at night during the week and weekends. He would eventually manage to be on the list for professional acting companies to call him when they had a role. He eventually joined the Ulster Group Theater where he learned the behind the scenes tasks of the theatre. He became well known in Belfast for his contributions as a gravel-voiced policeman on the Ulster Radio program The McCooeys, the story of a Belfast family written by Joseph Tomelty. Boyd eventually worked his way up to character parts and then starring roles. By nineteen he had toured Canada with summer stock companies. In 1950 he made a coast to coast tour of America with the Clare Tree Major Company In A Streetcar Named Desire, he played the lead role as Stanley Kowalski. Boyd would later recall this as “the best performance I ever gave in my life.” By the time he was twenty, Boyd had a wide range of theatre experience, but he longed for the big stage. In 1952 Boyd moved to London as an understudy in an Irish play, The Passing Day. Boyd nearly died during the great flu epidemic in London in 1952. He worked in a cafeteria and busked outside a cinema in Leicester Square to get money as he was literally close to starvation. Boyd caught his first break as a doorman at the Odeon Theatre. The Leicester Square Cinema across the street recruited him to usher attendees during the British Academy Awards in the early 1950s. During the awards ceremony he was noticed by actor Sir Michael Redgrave, who used his connections to introduce Boyd to the director of the Windsor Repertory Group. At this point Boyd’s stage career in the U.K. began to flourish with performances in The Deep Blue Sea and Barnett’s Folly. Boyd’s first role which brought him acclaim was as an Irish spy in the film The Man Who Never Was (Ronald Neame, 1956) with Cliffton Webb, based on the book by Ewen Montagu. Shortly thereafter he signed a ten-year contract with 20th Century Fox studios, who began prepping him for Hollywood. But it would be a while until Boyd actually set foot on a Hollywood back-lot. Boyd’s next stop was Portugal to make A Hill in Korea (Julian Amyes, 1956), which also featured future stars Michael Caine and Robert Shaw. In June 1956, Boyd was cast in the nautical, ship-wreck adventure Seven Waves Away/Abandon Ship! (Richard Sale, 1956) starring Tyrone Power. This was filmed in the summer of 1956 in London where the British Navy built a huge 35,000 gallon water tank for the film. In November 1956, Boyd traveled to the British West Indies as part of a large ensemble cast in Darryl Zanuck‘s racially provocative film Island in the Sun (Robert Rossen, 1957), based on the Alec Waugh novel.Boyd portrayed a young English aristocrat who becomes the lover of Joan Collins. Boyd would be loaned out to the J. Arthur Rank production of Seven Thunders (Beast of Marseilles), a World War II romance set in Nazi-occupied Marseilles. It was Boyd's most prominent starring film role yet.
After her success in Roger Vadim‘s Et Dieu... créa la femme/ And God Created Woman (1956), Brigitte Bardot was given the opportunity to cast her own leading man in her next film, the lusty romance Les bijoutiers du clair de lune/The Night Heaven Fell, (Roger Vadim, 1957). and she chose Stephen Boyd. Being in the Bardot spotlight added much to Boyd’s film credit, in addition to bringing him notice in Hollywood. Stephen Boyd finally arrived in Hollywood in January 1958 to take on his first true Hollywood role as the leader of a quartet of renegade outlaws in the Western The Bravados (Henry King, 1958), which starred Gregory Peck and Joan Collins. Even though this was a Hollywood production, the actually filming took place in Morelia, Mexico. After the filming of The Bravados was completed Boyd auditioned for the coveted role of Messala in Ben-Hur (William Wyler, 1958). Many other actors, including Victor Mature. Kirk Douglas, Leslie Nielsen and Stewart Granger had been considered for the part, but Stephen Boyd’s screen test convinced director William Wyler that he had found the perfect villain for his epic. Boyd was hurried off to join actor Charlton Heston in Rome in May 1958 to learn the chariot racing aspect of his role. Heston had already been practicing behind the chariot for weeks, so Boyd needed to learn the sport quickly. Later, Boyd described the filming experience of Ben-Hur in the Cinecittà Studios in Rome, as the most exciting experience of his life. Years after the film was released, interim Ben-Hur screen-writer and novelist Gore Vidal revealed that Boyd portrayed Messala with an underlying homosexual energy as instructed by Vidal when he greets Ben-Hur Charlton Heston in the opening sequence. In Gore Vidal’s autobiography Palimpsest, Vidal describes his discussion first with director William Wyler concerning Messala’s underlying motivation, that being that Messala and Judea Ben-Hur had previously been lovers. This was based on an idea by Vidal to enhance the tension between the two main antagonists. After Ben-Hur filming was completed, Boyd returned to Hollywood in early 1959 to star with Academy Award winner Susan Hayward in the Canadian-based drama Woman Obsessed (Henry Hathaway, 1959), and appeared in the adaptation of Rona Jaffe‘s novel The Best of Everything, (Jean Negulesco, 1959). Ben-Hur was released in December 1959 and made Boyd an international star overnight. His portrayal of the Roman tribune Messala brought in rave reviews. In early 1960 Boyd won the Golden Globe Award for Best Supporting Actor – Motion Picture for his performance in Ben-Hur.
Stephen Boyd himself chose to do roles which he felt comfortable in. His next choice was The Big Gamble (Richard Fleischer, Elmo Williams, 1961), which featured Darryl F. Zanuck‘s current paramour and French icon Juliette Gréco. The adventure of making this film almost outdid the adventure in the film itself as the crew slept in tents in the jungle that were guarded by natives on parole for cannibalism. Boyd nearly drowned in the Ardèche river during the making of the film. Boyd was originally chosen to play Mark Antony opposite Elizabeth Taylor in the epic production of Cleopatra (1963) under the direction of Rouben Mamoulian. He began film work in September 1960 but eventually withdrew from the problem-plagued production after Elizabeth Taylor’s severe illness postponed the film for months. Cleopatra was later directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, and the role of Mark Antony went to Richard Burton. After several months without active work, Boyd worked on The Inspector (Philip Dunne, 1962), renamed Lisa for the American release. It was based on the novel by Jan de Hartog and co- starred actress Dolores Hart. The film was made in Amsterdam , London and Wales during the summer of 1961. Boyd starred with Doris Day in the circus musical Billy Rose’s Jumbo (Charles Walters, 1962); the role earned Boyd a nomination for the Golden Globe Award for Best Actor – Motion Picture Musical or Comedy. In Rome Boyd acted with Gina Lollobrigida in her long-time pet project Venere imperiale/Imperial Venus (Jean Delannoy, 1962), a romantic epic about the many loves of Pauline Bonaparte, the sister of Napoleon. This film was the first film to be banned by the Motion Picture Association of America for male nudity. Boyd appeared in a humorous bedroom scene, naked, but covered by a sheet. The suggestion of nudity was too much for the censors and the film was never released in the United States. In Spain, he appeared in Samuel Bronston‘s massive production of The Fall of the Roman Empire (1964), directed by Anthony Mann. Boyd’s co-star was Sophia Loren. Although the film did well internationally when it was released in 1964, it was a box office failure in the United States and signaled the end of Roman epic. He then filmed the suspenseful The Third Secret (Charles Crichton, 1964) starring Jack Hawkins, Pamela Franklin and Sean Connery’s wife, Diane Cilento. In December, 1963, Stephen Boyd became a naturalized U.S. citizen. In 1964 Boyd continued to make films in Europe, traveling to Yugoslavia to star as the villain Jamuga in the epic Genghis Khan (Henry Levin, 1965). Boyd was the top billed and therefore the top paid star in the epic, and this apparently caused friction with up-and-coming star Omar Sharif. After completing Genghis Khan, Boyd trekked to Cairo for a brief appearance as the regal King Nimrod at The Tower of Babel in Dino de Laurentiis‘s production of The Bible (John Huston, 1966). Boyd returned to the United States to start work on the Science Fiction adventure Fantastic Voyage (Richard Fleischer, 1966), co-starring with Raquel Welch. Boyd then joined German star Elke Sommer and music legend Tony Bennett to film the Hollywood drama The Oscar (Russell Rouse, 1966), based on the eponymous Richard Sale novel. The film was a popular success, but maligned by film critics. In Iran he filmed his scenes for the United Nations film project Poppies Are Also Flowers (Terence Young, 1966) written by James Bond creator Ian Fleming. Two of Boyd’s projects were ranked among the top twenty-five grossing films of 1966; The Bible at number one and Fantastic Voyage at twenty-two. Next, Boyd starred in a spy thriller Assignment K (Val Guest, 1968) with Swedish model/actress Camilla Sparv. Boyd grew a full beard for his role as the iconic Irish playwright and critic George Bernard Shaw in the Off-Broadway play The Bashful Genius written by Harold Callen. This was Boyd’s first return to the stage since the mid-1950s, and he received excellent reviews.
In early 1968 Boyd was cast as the heavy opposite Sean Connery and Brigitte Bardot in the Western adventure Shalako (Edward Dmytryk, 1968) based on the Louis L’Amour novel. Shalako was filmed in the early part of 1968 in Almería, Spain. After returning to the United States, Boyd took the role of the cruel slave master Nathan MacKay in the Southern 'Slavesploitation' drama Slaves (Herbert J. Biberman, 1969), also starring Ossie Davis and songstress Dionne Warwick. The film was loosely based on the famous Harriet Beecher Stowe novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Buena Vista plantation near Shreveport, Louisiana. Closely following Slaves, Boyd starred in another story about racial tension, this time a World War II made-for-television drama called Carter’s Army/Black Brigade (George McCowan, 1970), featuring a young Richard Pryor. Boyd began his interest in L. Ron Hubbard‘s Church of Scientology, which would make him one of the first Hollywood stars to be involved in it. Boyd would star and narrate a Scientology recruiting film called Freedom (1970). There is no documentation of his later involvement with Scientology after the early 1970s. During the 1970s the demand for Boyd in Hollywood diminished, so he focused his attention on European films and several television pilots and shows. He made three films in Spain with director José Antonio Nieves Conde, including Marta (José Antonio Nieves Conde, 1970) with Marisa Mell, Historia de una traición/The Great Swindle (José Antonio Nieves Conde, 1971), and Casa Manchada (José Antonio Nieves Conde, 1975). He worked with cult director Romain Gary in the drug thriller Kill! (1971). He also made several Westerns, including Hannie Caulder (Burt Kennedy, 1971) with Raquel Welch (1971), Un hombre llamado Noon/The Man Called Noon (Peter Collinson, 1973) with Richard Crenna, and Rosanna Schiaffino, Campa carogna... la taglia cresce/Those Dirty Dogs (Giuseppe Rosati, 1973) with Gianni Garko, and Potato Fritz (Peter Schamoni, 1976) with Hardy Krüger. His last acting stint was a guest star on the popular television show Hawaii Five-O (1977.) His most critically acclaimed role during the 1970s was as a colourful Irish gangster in the UK crime thriller The Squeeze (Michael Apted, 1977) with Stacey Keach and David Hemmings. Boyd died of a massive heart attack on 2 June 1977 at the age of 45 while playing golf with his wife Elizabeth Mills at the Porter Valley Country Club in Northridge, California. Boyd was interred in Oakwood Memorial Park Cemetery in Chatsworth, California. Boyd was first married in 1958 to Italian-born MCA executive Mariella Di Sarzana during the filming of Ben-Hur. They separated after just three weeks. Boyd lived as a bachelor for most of his life and was wary of marriage after his first experience. His secretary Elizabeth Mills was a permanent resident at his Tarzana home during these years though the two did not marry until 1974. Raquel Welch would claim in 2013 that during the filming of Fantastic Voyage in 1965, she became infatuated with Boyd, who rejected her advances. In her comments she would imply that Boyd was gay, however no evidence of Stephen Boyd being a homosexual exists.
Sources: Brigitte Ivory (IMDb), Stephen Boyd Blog, Wikipedia and IMDb.
Bluebird on a telephone line / How are you? I'm feeling fine / Sweetly do I whisper your name / Lonely solo taxi ride to a cheap motel / On the wrong side of the tracks / The facts are tricky to explain / Cold front bearing down / Blowing in from Birmingham / By dawn the window's wet with icy rain / Behind fourteen doors / A sad parade of paramours / Are throwing little white rocks at sorrow's window pane / Me, I've found someone to love more than the rain (Jim White)
© Oberfeld, Darmstadt, 2013, Florian Fritsch
see the original photograph on www.hobokollektiv.net
The Thames from Wallingford Bridge
This English Thames is holier far than Rome,
Those harebells like a sudden flush of sea
Breaking across the woodland, with the foam
Of meadow-sweet and white anemone
To fleck their blue waves, - God is likelier there
Than hidden in that crystal-hearted star the pale monks bear!
Those violet-gleaming butterflies that take
Yon creamy lily for their pavilion
Are monsignores, and where the rushes shake
A lazy pike lies basking in the sun,
His eyes half shut, - he is some mitred old
Bishop in PARTIBUS! look at those gaudy scales all green and gold.
The wind the restless prisoner of the trees
Does well for Palaestrina, one would say
The mighty master's hands were on the keys
Of the Maria organ, which they play
When early on some sapphire Easter morn
In a high litter red as blood or sin the Pope is borne
From his dark House out to the Balcony
Above the bronze gates and the crowded square,
Whose very fountains seem for ecstasy
To toss their silver lances in the air,
And stretching out weak hands to East and West
In vain sends peace to peaceless lands, to restless nations rest.
Is not yon lingering orange after-glow
That stays to vex the moon more fair than all
Rome's lordliest pageants! strange, a year ago
I knelt before some crimson Cardinal
Who bare the Host across the Esquiline,
And now - those common poppies in the wheat seem twice as fine.
The blue-green beanfields yonder, tremulous
With the last shower, sweeter perfume bring
Through this cool evening than the odorous
Flame-jewelled censers the young deacons swing,
When the grey priest unlocks the curtained shrine,
And makes God's body from the common fruit of corn and vine.
Poor Fra Giovanni bawling at the mass
Were out of tune now, for a small brown bird
Sings overhead, and through the long cool grass
I see that throbbing throat which once I heard
On starlit hills of flower-starred Arcady,
Once where the white and crescent sand of Salamis meets sea.
Sweet is the swallow twittering on the eaves
At daybreak, when the mower whets his scythe,
And stock-doves murmur, and the milkmaid leaves
Her little lonely bed, and carols blithe
To see the heavy-lowing cattle wait
Stretching their huge and dripping mouths across the farmyard gate.
And sweet the hops upon the Kentish leas,
And sweet the wind that lifts the new-mown hay,
And sweet the fretful swarms of grumbling bees
That round and round the linden blossoms play;
And sweet the heifer breathing in the stall,
And the green bursting figs that hang upon the red-brick wall,
And sweet to hear the cuckoo mock the spring
While the last violet loiters by the well,
And sweet to hear the shepherd Daphnis sing
The song of Linus through a sunny dell
Of warm Arcadia where the corn is gold
And the slight lithe-limbed reapers dance about the wattled fold.
And sweet with young Lycoris to recline
In some Illyrian valley far away,
Where canopied on herbs amaracine
We too might waste the summer-tranced day
Matching our reeds in sportive rivalry,
While far beneath us frets the troubled purple of the sea.
But sweeter far if silver-sandalled foot
Of some long-hidden God should ever tread
The Nuneham meadows, if with reeded flute
Pressed to his lips some Faun might raise his head
By the green water-flags, ah! sweet indeed
To see the heavenly herdsman call his white-fleeced flock to feed.
Then sing to me thou tuneful chorister,
Though what thou sing'st be thine own requiem!
Tell me thy tale thou hapless chronicler
Of thine own tragedies! do not contemn
These unfamiliar haunts, this English field,
For many a lovely coronal our northern isle can yield
Which Grecian meadows know not, many a rose
Which all day long in vales AEolian
A lad might seek in vain for over-grows
Our hedges like a wanton courtesan
Unthrifty of its beauty; lilies too
Ilissos never mirrored star our streams, and cockles blue
Dot the green wheat which, though they are the signs
For swallows going south, would never spread
Their azure tents between the Attic vines;
Even that little weed of ragged red,
Which bids the robin pipe, in Arcady
Would be a trespasser, and many an unsung elegy
Sleeps in the reeds that fringe our winding Thames
Which to awake were sweeter ravishment
Than ever Syrinx wept for; diadems
Of brown bee-studded orchids which were meant
For Cytheraea's brows are hidden here
Unknown to Cytheraea, and by yonder pasturing steer
There is a tiny yellow daffodil,
The butterfly can see it from afar,
Although one summer evening's dew could fill
Its little cup twice over ere the star
Had called the lazy shepherd to his fold
And be no prodigal; each leaf is flecked with spotted gold
As if Jove's gorgeous leman Danae
Hot from his gilded arms had stooped to kiss
The trembling petals, or young Mercury
Low-flying to the dusky ford of Dis
Had with one feather of his pinions
Just brushed them! the slight stem which bears the burden of its suns
Is hardly thicker than the gossamer,
Or poor Arachne's silver tapestry, -
Men say it bloomed upon the sepulchre
Of One I sometime worshipped, but to me
It seems to bring diviner memories
Of faun-loved Heliconian glades and blue nymph-haunted seas,
Of an untrodden vale at Tempe where
On the clear river's marge Narcissus lies,
The tangle of the forest in his hair,
The silence of the woodland in his eyes,
Wooing that drifting imagery which is
No sooner kissed than broken; memories of Salmacis
Who is not boy nor girl and yet is both,
Fed by two fires and unsatisfied
Through their excess, each passion being loth
For love's own sake to leave the other's side
Yet killing love by staying; memories
Of Oreads peeping through the leaves of silent moonlit trees,
Of lonely Ariadne on the wharf
At Naxos, when she saw the treacherous crew
Far out at sea, and waved her crimson scarf
And called false Theseus back again nor knew
That Dionysos on an amber pard
Was close behind her; memories of what Maeonia's bard
With sightless eyes beheld, the wall of Troy,
Queen Helen lying in the ivory room,
And at her side an amorous red-lipped boy
Trimming with dainty hand his helmet's plume,
And far away the moil, the shout, the groan,
As Hector shielded off the spear and Ajax hurled the stone;
Of winged Perseus with his flawless sword
Cleaving the snaky tresses of the witch,
And all those tales imperishably stored
In little Grecian urns, freightage more rich
Than any gaudy galleon of Spain
Bare from the Indies ever! these at least bring back again,
For well I know they are not dead at all,
The ancient Gods of Grecian poesy:
They are asleep, and when they hear thee call
Will wake and think 't is very Thessaly,
This Thames the Daulian waters, this cool glade
The yellow-irised mead where once young Itys laughed and played.
If it was thou dear jasmine-cradled bird
Who from the leafy stillness of thy throne
Sang to the wondrous boy, until he heard
The horn of Atalanta faintly blown
Across the Cumnor hills, and wandering
Through Bagley wood at evening found the Attic poets' spring, -
Ah! tiny sober-suited advocate
That pleadest for the moon against the day!
If thou didst make the shepherd seek his mate
On that sweet questing, when Proserpina
Forgot it was not Sicily and leant
Across the mossy Sandford stile in ravished wonderment, -
Light-winged and bright-eyed miracle of the wood!
If ever thou didst soothe with melody
One of that little clan, that brotherhood
Which loved the morning-star of Tuscany
More than the perfect sun of Raphael
And is immortal, sing to me! for I too love thee well.
Sing on! sing on! let the dull world grow young,
Let elemental things take form again,
And the old shapes of Beauty walk among
The simple garths and open crofts, as when
The son of Leto bare the willow rod,
And the soft sheep and shaggy goats followed the boyish God.
Sing on! sing on! and Bacchus will be here
Astride upon his gorgeous Indian throne,
And over whimpering tigers shake the spear
With yellow ivy crowned and gummy cone,
While at his side the wanton Bassarid
Will throw the lion by the mane and catch the mountain kid!
Sing on! and I will wear the leopard skin,
And steal the mooned wings of Ashtaroth,
Upon whose icy chariot we could win
Cithaeron in an hour ere the froth
Has over-brimmed the wine-vat or the Faun
Ceased from the treading! ay, before the flickering lamp of dawn
Has scared the hooting owlet to its nest,
And warned the bat to close its filmy vans,
Some Maenad girl with vine-leaves on her breast
Will filch their beech-nuts from the sleeping Pans
So softly that the little nested thrush
Will never wake, and then with shrilly laugh and leap will rush
Down the green valley where the fallen dew
Lies thick beneath the elm and count her store,
Till the brown Satyrs in a jolly crew
Trample the loosestrife down along the shore,
And where their horned master sits in state
Bring strawberries and bloomy plums upon a wicker crate!
Sing on! and soon with passion-wearied face
Through the cool leaves Apollo's lad will come,
The Tyrian prince his bristled boar will chase
Adown the chestnut-copses all a-bloom,
And ivory-limbed, grey-eyed, with look of pride,
After yon velvet-coated deer the virgin maid will ride.
Sing on! and I the dying boy will see
Stain with his purple blood the waxen bell
That overweighs the jacinth, and to me
The wretched Cyprian her woe will tell,
And I will kiss her mouth and streaming eyes,
And lead her to the myrtle-hidden grove where Adon lies!
Cry out aloud on Itys! memory
That foster-brother of remorse and pain
Drops poison in mine ear, - O to be free,
To burn one's old ships! and to launch again
Into the white-plumed battle of the waves
And fight old Proteus for the spoil of coral-flowered caves!
O for Medea with her poppied spell!
O for the secret of the Colchian shrine!
O for one leaf of that pale asphodel
Which binds the tired brows of Proserpine,
And sheds such wondrous dews at eve that she
Dreams of the fields of Enna, by the far Sicilian sea,
Where oft the golden-girdled bee she chased
From lily to lily on the level mead,
Ere yet her sombre Lord had bid her taste
The deadly fruit of that pomegranate seed,
Ere the black steeds had harried her away
Down to the faint and flowerless land, the sick and sunless day.
O for one midnight and as paramour
The Venus of the little Melian farm!
O that some antique statue for one hour
Might wake to passion, and that I could charm
The Dawn at Florence from its dumb despair,
Mix with those mighty limbs and make that giant breast my lair!
Sing on! sing on! I would be drunk with life,
Drunk with the trampled vintage of my youth,
I would forget the wearying wasted strife,
The riven veil, the Gorgon eyes of Truth,
The prayerless vigil and the cry for prayer,
The barren gifts, the lifted arms, the dull insensate air!
Sing on! sing on! O feathered Niobe,
Thou canst make sorrow beautiful, and steal
From joy its sweetest music, not as we
Who by dead voiceless silence strive to heal
Our too untented wounds, and do but keep
Pain barricadoed in our hearts, and murder pillowed sleep.
Sing louder yet, why must I still behold
The wan white face of that deserted Christ,
Whose bleeding hands my hands did once enfold,
Whose smitten lips my lips so oft have kissed,
And now in mute and marble misery
Sits in his lone dishonoured House and weeps, perchance for me?
O Memory cast down thy wreathed shell!
Break thy hoarse lute O sad Melpomene!
O Sorrow, Sorrow keep thy cloistered cell
Nor dim with tears this limpid Castaly!
Cease, Philomel, thou dost the forest wrong
To vex its sylvan quiet with such wild impassioned song!
Cease, cease, or if 't is anguish to be dumb
Take from the pastoral thrush her simpler air,
Whose jocund carelessness doth more become
This English woodland than thy keen despair,
Ah! cease and let the north wind bear thy lay
Back to the rocky hills of Thrace, the stormy Daulian bay.
A moment more, the startled leaves had stirred,
Endymion would have passed across the mead
Moonstruck with love, and this still Thames had heard
Pan plash and paddle groping for some reed
To lure from her blue cave that Naiad maid
Who for such piping listens half in joy and half afraid.
A moment more, the waking dove had cooed,
The silver daughter of the silver sea
With the fond gyves of clinging hands had wooed
Her wanton from the chase, and Dryope
Had thrust aside the branches of her oak
To see the lusty gold-haired lad rein in his snorting yoke.
A moment more, the trees had stooped to kiss
Pale Daphne just awakening from the swoon
Of tremulous laurels, lonely Salmacis
Had bared his barren beauty to the moon,
And through the vale with sad voluptuous smile
Antinous had wandered, the red lotus of the Nile
Down leaning from his black and clustering hair,
To shade those slumberous eyelids' caverned bliss,
Or else on yonder grassy slope with bare
High-tuniced limbs unravished Artemis
Had bade her hounds give tongue, and roused the deer
From his green ambuscade with shrill halloo and pricking spear.
Lie still, lie still, O passionate heart, lie still!
O Melancholy, fold thy raven wing!
O sobbing Dryad, from thy hollow hill
Come not with such despondent answering!
No more thou winged Marsyas complain,
Apollo loveth not to hear such troubled songs of pain!
It was a dream, the glade is tenantless,
No soft Ionian laughter moves the air,
The Thames creeps on in sluggish leadenness,
And from the copse left desolate and bare
Fled is young Bacchus with his revelry,
Yet still from Nuneham wood there comes that thrilling melody
So sad, that one might think a human heart
Brake in each separate note, a quality
Which music sometimes has, being the Art
Which is most nigh to tears and memory;
Poor mourning Philomel, what dost thou fear?
Thy sister doth not haunt these fields, Pandion is not here,
Here is no cruel Lord with murderous blade,
No woven web of bloody heraldries,
But mossy dells for roving comrades made,
Warm valleys where the tired student lies
With half-shut book, and many a winding walk
Where rustic lovers stray at eve in happy simple talk.
The harmless rabbit gambols with its young
Across the trampled towing-path, where late
A troop of laughing boys in jostling throng
Cheered with their noisy cries the racing eight;
The gossamer, with ravelled silver threads,
Works at its little loom, and from the dusky red-eaved sheds
Of the lone Farm a flickering light shines out
Where the swinked shepherd drives his bleating flock
Back to their wattled sheep-cotes, a faint shout
Comes from some Oxford boat at Sandford lock,
And starts the moor-hen from the sedgy rill,
And the dim lengthening shadows flit like swallows up the hill.
The heron passes homeward to the mere,
The blue mist creeps among the shivering trees,
Gold world by world the silent stars appear,
And like a blossom blown before the breeze
A white moon drifts across the shimmering sky,
Mute arbitress of all thy sad, thy rapturous threnody.
She does not heed thee, wherefore should she heed,
She knows Endymion is not far away;
'Tis I, 'tis I, whose soul is as the reed
Which has no message of its own to play,
So pipes another's bidding, it is I,
Drifting with every wind on the wide sea of misery.
Ah! the brown bird has ceased: one exquisite trill
About the sombre woodland seems to cling
Dying in music, else the air is still,
So still that one might hear the bat's small wing
Wander and wheel above the pines, or tell
Each tiny dew-drop dripping from the bluebell's brimming cell.
And far away across the lengthening wold,
Across the willowy flats and thickets brown,
Magdalen's tall tower tipped with tremulous gold
Marks the long High Street of the little town,
And warns me to return; I must not wait,
Hark ! 't is the curfew booming from the bell at Christ Church gate.
Go-Go for a wild ride with the action girls! Russ Meyer, the king of exploitation, directs this lurid thrill-ride starring Tura Satana, Haji, and Lori Williams as a trio of dancers who turn to murder and mayhem on a road trip from hell. Varla is well-endowed, beautiful, physically powerful, savvy and conniving. She lives for kicks, but she's also got a serious mad on for the world, and anyone who crosses her finds out the hard way. Her job as a go-go dancer, supplemented by a part time career in petty crime has afforded her a sleek and fast sports car, which she enjoys riding in the desert with her fellow dancers. One of them, Rosie, has a crush on Varla, which she happily encourages, even if Varla is really more interested in the control it gives her over Rosie than in Rosie herself. The other dancer, Billie, is a little harder for Varla to manage, but Billie isn't bright enough to outmaneuver Varla.
When the little gang run into a square drag racer, he winds up getting into a fight with Varla, losing of course. Varla makes sure he never talks back again, then kidnaps his girlfriend and makes a run for it. BIllie and Rosie tag along, and they soon become involved in intrigue with an old letch in the desert rumored to have a stash of cash hidden away somewhere. When Varla starts to lose control of the situation, things (again) become violent, leading to a revved-up climax! Three strippers seeking thrills encounter a young couple in the desert. After dispatching the boyfriend, they take the girl hostage and begin scheming on a crippled old man living with his two sons in the desert, reputedly hiding a tidy sum of cash. They become houseguests of the old man and try and seduce the sons in an attempt to locate the money, not realizing that the old man has a few sinister intentions of his own.
synopsis
Exploitation maven Russ Meyer created a cult classic with this turbo-charged action film. Three curvaceous go-go dancers in a cool sports car go on a desert crime spree, led by Varla (the amazing Tura Satana), a busty, nasty woman dressed entirely in black. Varla's lesbian moll, Rosie (Haji) -- who has an extremely overwrought accent -- and reluctant bimbo Billie (Lori Williams) are along for the ride. When they meet a naïve young couple, Tommy and Linda (Ray Barlow and Sue Bernard), Varla challenges the man to a race then kills him by breaking his back. They take Linda hostage and drive to a house owned by a crippled old lecher (Stuart Lancaster) and his muscular but retarded son, Vegetable (Dennis Busch). Varla discovers that the old man has money hidden on the property, so the girls try to find it. Meanwhile, Vegetable's perverted father tries to trick him into assaulting one of the girls as he watches, but his other son (Paul Trinka) finally shows up to save the day. A great deal of bloodshed, campy catfighting, and funny dialogue fills the bulk of this fast-paced comic book of a movie.
Born 1946 Quebec,Canada
Passed on 2013
Birth Name - Barbarella Catton Nickname - Haji
Haji was a Cando-American actress renowned for starring in Russ Meyer's sexploitation classic Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965), in which she made her theatrical film debut. Barbarella Catton was born in Quebec City, Quebec on January 24, 1946, and at the age of 14, began dancing topless. The renamed Haji caught the eye of cinema's "King Leer" while performing as an exotic dancer.
He also cast her as one of three go-go dancers who turn into avenging furies in "Pussycat", which was her theatrical film debut as it was released before Motor Psycho (1965). She also appeared in Meyer's potboiler Good Morning... and Goodbye! (1967), his big budget Hollywood sextravaganza Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), and his cartoonish amalgamation of sex and violence, Supervixens (1975).
Haji died on August 10, 2013 at the age of 67.
Was a fervent supporter of animal rights and environmentalism. Interviewed in the book "Invasion of the B-Girls" by Jewel Shepard. Began as an exotic dancer. Moved to California at the age of fourteen and was discovered by filmmaker Russ Meyer performing in a topless bar. Her only child, a daughter she had at age 15, is named Cerlette. Haji was of British and Filipino descent, and her nickname was bestowed on her by an uncle. Was a friend and co-star of former stripper and long-time Russ Meyer paramour Kitten Natividad.
Haji, an Actress Featured in Cult Films by Russ Meyer, Dies at 67
By DANIEL E. SLOTNIK
Published: August 17, 2013
Haji, a voluptuous actress who played one of three homicidal go-go dancers in Russ Meyer’s 1965 cult film “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!,” died on Aug. 9 in Southern California. She was 67.
Her death was confirmed by the dancer and actress Kitten Natividad, a friend, who said she did not know the cause. She said Haji had high blood pressure and heart problems in recent years and was taken to a hospital after falling ill at a restaurant in Newport Beach.Haji, a brunette of Filipino and British descent, met Meyer, the celebrated B-movie director, in the mid-1960s while she worked in a strip club in California. He cast her as the lead in his biker movie “Motorpsycho” (1965) even though she had no acting experience.Later that year Haji appeared in “Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!,” the tale of three dancers who beat a young man to death, kidnap his girlfriend and flee into the desert. She played the lesbian paramour of the lead character, Varla, played by Tura Satana. The film has acquired a devoted following and has been embraced by the filmmakers John Waters and Quentin Tarantino and even some feminists, including the film critic B. Ruby Rich, who praised it in The Village Voice as a “female fantasy.”“You just didn’t see women taking over and beating up men in those days,” Haji said in an interview posted on Russ Meyer’s Ultravixens, a Web site devoted to Meyer, who died in 2004, and his films. “Russ did something no one else had the imagination to do. And he was smart to use three bodied-up women, so whether the picture’s good or not, you still sort of stare at it.”Haji played a scantily clad bartender in Meyer’s “Supervixens” in 1975 and appeared in “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls,” the story of an all-woman rock band’s descent into debauchery. It was the first of Meyer’s films produced by a mainstream studio. She also acted in John Cassavetes’s gritty drama “The Killing of a Chinese Bookie” in 1976.
Haji was born in Quebec on Jan. 24, 1946. Ms. Natividad said that Haji’s last name at birth was Catton, and that she thought her given name was Cerlette. (The name Haji, she said, was a nickname given to her by an uncle.) Haji left school before finishing the sixth grade and began stripping at 14. She had a daughter, also named Cerlette, at 15. She lived in Oxnard, Calif. Her survivors include her daughter and a granddaughter. Haji’s last screen role was in the 2003 comedy “Killer Drag Queens on Dope.”
www.nytimes.com/2013/08/18/arts/haji-an-actress-featured-...;
Italian postcard by Foto Ebany (?), no. 72.
Antonio 'Tony' Moreno (1887-1967) was a Spanish-born American actor and film director of the silent film era and through the 1950s. In his early films, Moreno was often typecast as the suave, smouldering 'Latin Lover' and was seen as a serious rival to Rudolph Valentino. He was equally adept at romance, melodrama or comedy and is best known for films such as The Spanish Dancer (1923) with Pola Negri, Mare Nostrum (1926) with Alice Terry, The Temptress (1926) with Greta Garbo, and It (1927) with Clara Bow.
Antonio Moreno was born Antonio Garrido Monteagudo in Madrid in 1887. He came to America at the age of fourteen. Although he claimed to have attended Williston Northampton School in Easthampton, Massachusetts, the school's archives have no record of his having done so. His working life began as an employee of the Northhampton Electric Light and Gas Company. He first acted on stage under the tutelage of Maude Adams whose theatre he had initially visited in order to fix the lighting. From the repertory stage in Massachusetts, he then made his way to Hollywood where he arrived in 1912. Having made his film debut in The Voice of the Millions (Stanner E.V. Taylor, 1912) at Rex-Universal, Moreno then featured as a top draw card for Vitagraph until 1921. In 1914 Moreno appeared in major films such as Judith of Bethulia (D.W. Griffith, 1914), The Dust of Egypt (George D. Baker, 1915), and John Rance, Gentleman (Van Dyke Brooke, 1914) with Norma Talmadge. Within a short time, he became a star through his appearances opposite Talmadge. Alongside Ramón Novarro and above all Rudolph Valentino, Moreno rose to become one of the most popular Latin lovers of the silent film era because of his southern good looks. In the process, he acquired a large female fan base. He proudly held the sobriquet "King of the Cliff-hangers" because of his prolific work in serials as co-star to Pearl White. In the early 1920s, Moreno joined the cinema company Cineplex Entertainment and became one of its highest-paid performers. The pinnacle of his career came a few years later under contract to Famous Players Lasky/Paramount (from 1923 to 1924) and at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (in 1926). His film partners included Bebe Daniels in the Broadway comedy The Exciters (Maurice Campbell, 1923), Pola Negri in The Spanish Dancer (Herbert Brenon, 1923), Greta Garbo in The Temptress (Fred Niblo, Mauritz Stiller, 1926) and Clara Bow in It (Clarence G. Badger, 1927). The comedy It in particular was a huge box office success and featured Moreno as a department store heir who turns the heads of all the shop assistants.
In the 1920s, Antonio Moreno was one of the highest-paid actors in Hollywood. With the advent of sound pictures, his career suffered a sharp decline, in no small measure due to a heavy Spanish accent. He made only a few films in Hollywood during this period and instead worked increasingly in Mexican productions. During the early 1930s, he also directed several films there, such as the first Mexican sound film Santa (Antonio Moreno, 1932) and the drama Águilas frente al sol/Eagles across the Sun (Antonio Moreno, 1932). Moreno tried to rebuild his Hollywood career as early as the 1930s, including an appearance in the Laurel and Hardy film The Bohemian Girl (James W. Horne, Charley Rogers, 1936) where his character has an affair with Oliver Hardy's wife. But it wasn't until the mid-1940s that he returned to better roles in American film, including as a character actor in The Captain of Castile (Henry King, 1947) starring Tyrone Power. In 1954, the veteran star took the lead role in the cheaply produced horror film Creature from the Black Lagoon (Jack Arnold, 1954), which became a cult classic over the years. His last significant appearance was in John Ford's Western epic The Searchers (John Ford, 1956), where he played a Mexican who showed John Wayne and Jeffrey Hunter the way to an Indian chief. Nonetheless, he eventually segued into character parts and remained gainfully employed in the industry until the late 1950s. He was awarded a Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6651 Hollywood Boulevard in Hollywood, California in 1960. Moreno was married in 1923 to Daisy Danziger, the daughter of an oil millionaire. Their lavish mansion, called 'Paramour', was one of the largest in Hollywood and the site of many famous parties. Ten years later, Daisy died in 1933 in a tragic car crash near Mulholland Drive. Antonio Moreno passed away in 1967 in Beverly Hills. Following his death from heart failure, he was interred at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.
Sources: I.S. Mowis (IMDb), Wikipedia (German and English) and IMDb,
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