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Part II
After her beloved moved on to be with the Sun God, she was heartbroken, but even then her strength and beliefs didn’t fade. She decided it was time for a revolution and became Pharaoh herself. Although she had to disguise herself as a man in public, she was King Neferneferuaten. Someday they will know, the whole world will accept the power of a woman to rule as a King herself.
🔶 Blog: suegeelidecuir.wordpress.com/2018/08/28/her-reign.
🔶 Plastik Raithea Wall Sconces at Shiny Shabby.
🔶 Venge Nephthys Gacha at The Fantasy Gacha Carnival.
🔶 FB Page: Style It Up! Fashion, Events & Decor.
See Part I here.
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Eclectic Home on the Harbor ~ Saint Augustine, Florida U.S.A.
Little House on the Harbor ~ Red wood clapboard siding
Summer 2017 ~ Northern Florida ~ The Treasure Coast
[It's a boxy two-story home. Painted red. Wrap-around
second floor balcony. Artistic flair all over. Very unique.
Not very big. Probably owned by an artist. Very colorful!]
(six more architectural photos 'from this city' in the comments)
The Erben von Beulwitz winery has been around for over 200 years. It is now owned by the Weis family, which also owns the Hotel Weingut Weis, and its vineyards surround the hotel. We had a short but delightful stay here.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie. Lettice is visiting her family home as her parents host their first Hunt Ball since 1914. Lady Sadie has been completely consumed over the last month by the planning and preparation of the occasion, determined that not only will it be the event of the 1922 county season, but also that it will be a successful entrée for her youngest daughter, still single at twenty-one years of age, to meet a number of eligible and marriageable men. Letters and invitations have flown from Lady Sadie’s bonheur de jour* to the families of eligible bachelors, some perhaps a little too old to be considered before the war, achieving more than modest success. Whilst Lettice enjoys dancing, parties and balls, she is less enthusiastic about the idea of the ball being used as a marriage market than her parents are.
We find ourselves in the lofty Adam design hall of Glynes with its parquetry floors and ornate plasterwork, outside the entrance to the ballroom antechamber, through which guests must pass to enter the grand ballroom where tonight’s Hunt Ball is being held. From the ballroom, the sound of the band hired for the evening to play can be heard above the hubbub of happy voices as like an exclusive club, aristocracy and local county guests intermingle. At the entrance to the ballroom antechamber stand the Viscount and Countess Wrexham, Leslie and Lettice, all forming a reception line where they have been standing for the last half hour, since the clocks around them struck eight and the first guests began to arrive. Now a steady stream of partygoers appear across the threshold of the house, through the door held open by Mardsen, the Chetwynd’s tall first footman. He acknowledges each person with a bow from the neck which is seldom acknowledged in return as ladies and gentlemen in thick fur coats and travel capes, fur tippets and top hats alight from the motorcars and in a few cases, horse drawn carriages that pull up to the front door. Bustling with idle chatter they each sweep through the door with a comfortable sense of privilege and self assurance, gasping with pleasure as they feel the heat of the blazing fire in the hearth of the foyer: a delightful change to the chill of the evening air their journeys were taken in. Bramley, the Chetwtynd’s butler takes the gentleman’s topcoats, capes, hats, gloves and canes, whilst Mrs. Renfrew, the Chetwynd’s housekeeper, helps the ladies divest themselves of their capes, furs and muffs, the pair revealing spectacular fancy dress costumes of oriental brocade, pale silks and satins, colourfully striped cottons and hand printed muslins.
Standing next to her mother who is dressed as Britannia, Lettice, costumed as Cinderella in an Eighteenth century style wig and gown, smiles politely, yet vacantly, as she greets guest after guest, watching the passing parade of Pierrots, and Columbines, Sinbads and faeries, princesses and Maharajas, pirates and mandarins.
“Oh good evening Miss Evans, and Miss Evans,” Lady Sadie exclaims, placing her glove clad fingers onto the forearms of the two spinster sisters who live in Holland House, a Seventeenth Century manor house in the village. “How delightful to see you both. Do come in out of the cold and make yourselves comfortable. It was good of you to come up from the village for tonight’s festivities when I know you were both poorly before Christmas.” She smiles benignly as they twitter answers back at her in crackling voices that sound like crisp autumn leaves underfoot. “You remember my youngest daughter, Lettice don’t you ladies?”
“How do you do, Miss Evans, Miss Evans,” Lettice replies with a nod, accepting the two ladies from her mother like a parcel on a conveyor belt, smiling the same polite painted smile she, her parents and brother have been wearing since the first guest arrived. She glances at the two old women, who must be in their seventies at least, one dressed as Little Bo-Peep complete with shepherdess’ crook and the other as Miss Muffet with a hand crocheted spider dangling from her wrist, both looking more like tragic pantomime dames than anything else. Both women have worn the same costumes to every Hunt Ball Lettice can remember, and she is surer now that they are at close quarters, that the costumes are made from genuine Eighteenth Century relics from their ancestors. “What delightful costumes. Miss Bo-Peep I believe?”
“Indeed, Miss Chetwynd!” Giggles the elder of the Miss Evanses. “My how you’ve grown into a smart young woman since the last Hunt Ball your parents threw before the war.”
“We read about you often in the London illustrated papers, don’t we Geraldine?” pipes up her sister.
“Oh quite! Quite Henrietta! What a marvellous time you must have up there in London. It’s good of you to come and join us for these little parochial occasions, which must be so dull after all the cosmopolitan pleasures you enjoy.”
“Not at all, Miss Evans. Now, please do go in. You must be freezing after your drive up from the village. There’s a good fire going in the antechamber. Please go and warm yourselves.”
“You are too kind, Miss Chetwynd! Too kind!” acknowledges Henrietta.
The two rather macabre nursery rhyme characters giggle and twitter and walk into the ballroom antechamber.
“Ahh, Lady Sadie,” a well intonated, yet oily voice annunciates, causing Lettice to shudder. “What a pleasure it is to be asked to the event of the country season.”
Lettice turns to see Sir John Nettleford-Hughes, tall and elegant, yet at the same time repugnant to her, dressed in full eveningwear, yet also wearing a very ornamental turban in deference to the Hunt ball’s fancy dress theme. Lettice shudders again as Sir John takes up her mother’s right hand in his and draws it to his lips and kisses it.
“Oh, Sir John!” Lady Sadie giggles in a girlish way Lettice seldom hears from her dour and matronly Edwardian mother.
“Well, I must kiss the hand of the brave and bold defender of the Empire.” He smiles up at her with wily eyes glittering with mischief. “You are Britannia, are you not?”
“Indeed I am, Sir John.” Lady Sadie chortles proudly. “Well done. Now, you remember my youngest daughter, Lettice, don’t you?” She turns Sir John’s and her own attention to her daughter beside her.
“Good heavens!” Sir John exclaims, his piercing blue eyes catching Lettice’s gaze and holding it tightly as he eyes her up and down. “Could this elegant Marie Antoinette be the lanky teenager I remember from 1914?”
Lettice feels very exposed by the intensity of his stare, and she feels as he looks her over, that in his mind he is removing her gown and wig to see what lies beneath them. She feels the flush of a blush work its way up her neck, the heat of it at odds with the coolness of the Glynes necklace of diamonds and rubies, lent to her for the evening by her mother, at her throat.
“I’m actually Cind…” Lettice begins, before stopping short and gasping as she feels the sharp toe of her mother’s dance pump kick firmly into her ankle beneath her skirts. “So pleased to see you again, Sir John.” she concludes rather awkwardly.
“Do you know, Sir John,” Lady Sadie gushes. “I do believe we have a painting of Marie Antoinette in our very own Glynes gallery.”
“Is that so, Lady Sadie?” he replies, without disengaging his eyes from Lettice.
“Yes, one of Cosmo’s ancestors brought it back from France after the Revolution, when all those lovely things from the French aristocracy were being sold for a song.”
“Then I should very much like to see it, Lady Sadie, and make my own comparison between the woman that was,” He takes up Lettice’s right hand and plants a kiss on it just as he had done to her mother. “And the lady who is.”
Lettice quickly withdraws her hand from Sir John’s touch, feeling more repugnance for him by the moment.
“I’m sure that could be arranged, Sir John,” Lady Sadie says with a beaming smile. “Lettice, perhaps you might show Sir John the painting of Marie Antoinette in the East Wing Long Gallery after the buffet supper tonight?”
“I shall look forward to that, my lady,” Sir John says without waiting for Lettice’s agreement, his gaze still piercing her, until suddenly he glances away and strides confidently in the wake of the two Miss Evanses.
Lettice greets the next few guests politely, yet vacantly constantly gazing at the top of her glove clad hand where she felt Sir John’s pressing lips. She is still distracted by it when a cheerful voice interrupts her uneasy thoughts.
“I say, Lettice my dear, are you quite well?”
Brought back from her unsettled imaginings, Lettice finds herself staring onto the most friendly looking pirate she has ever seen.
“Lord Thorley!” she says with a genuine smile forming across her lips. “How do you do.”
“You are looking a bit peaky, my dear.” he replies, lifting up his black felt eye patch so that he might see her with both eyes. Looking concerned, Lord Thorley Ayres continues, “Are you quite well?”
“Oh, quite, Lord Thorley. It’s just a little… a little warm in here, what with the fire and my costume.” She starts fanning herself with her hand.
“Oh, I thought you looked a bit pale, rather than flushed, my dear.”
“Don’t nanny poor Lettice so, Thorley,” mutters his wife, dressed as a Spanish Infanta of the Seventeenth Century in a magnificent panniered gown and fitted bodice that pushes her already evident breasts further into view. “The poor thing probably feels quite overwhelmed by the ball. It’s been a few years since there was a ball here last. Now move along and let me see the woman who was once the girl I knew.” She shoos her husband along with a wave of her hand.
“Lady Ayres,” Lettice says with a pleasurable smile. “How very good to see you. It’s been far too long since we had a ball here.”
“Quite right. But all that sadness and austerity of the war is behind us now, thank goodness!” She rolls her eyes implying the tediousness of the Great War just passed. “Now we can enjoy our fun and frivolities again, just as we used to. Now, of course you remember our son, Nicholas.” Lady Rosamund grasps the slender shoulders of a young man in a Pierrot costume and forcefully moves him forward to meet Lettice.
“Of course I do.” Lettice remarks kindly, smiling at the young man around her age, who is obviously reluctant to be there. She remembers the stories friends from the Embassy Club have told her about Nicholas Ayers, the reluctant heir to a vast estate, Crofton Court, in Cumbria. They giggled and blushed as they told Lettice in less than hushed whispers that his visits to a well known Molly-house** near Covent Garden and his debauched ‘at homes’ on Fridays were amongst the worst kept secrets in London. She gazes at his pale face, which was evidently white enough before being given a liberal dusting of white powder. How ironic, she thinks to herself, that his face is painted up so sadly with Pierrot’s iconic dark teardrop running from his left eye, when he is so evidently unhappy to be on parade as a reluctant suitor under the hawk eyes of both his parents. What sort of life will he live, she wonders, never mind the poor unfortunate society debutante who does eventually marry him, oblivious to his inclinations towards men rather than women? She knows her father knows about Nicholas’ inclinations, but is equally aware that her mother is innocent of such knowledge. She glances quickly at her mother and when she sees that she is talking animatedly to the next guest, she leans forward and whispers in Nicholas’ ear, “It’s alright, you only have to dance with me the once, and then you’ve done your duty.” Nicholas looks at her in genuine fear. “It’s alright. Your secrets are safe with me Nicholas. I won’t tell. I don’t want to be on parade any more than you do, so let’s just do our duty, and then you can go back to your life and I’ll go back to mine.”
“Can’t you two wait until you are on the dancefloor to whisper sweet nothings in one another’s ears?” chortles Thorley good naturedly, a cheeky smile painting his lips.
“Don’t embarrass them, Thorley!” Rosamund slaps her husband’s hand playfully with her ivory and lace fan, the pearl drop earrings at her lobes shaking about wildly. She reaches out to Nicholas and grabs him by the shoulders again, steering him away. “Come along Nicholas. You’ll have plenty of time to dance with Lettice later.”
Lettice glances at her mother, who has now turned all her attention to her daughter. She smiles proudly and nods her approval at a potential interest between Lettice and Nicholas Ayres and his tens of thousands of pounds a year. Lettice glances away quickly, allowing her eyes to follow the backs of Nicholas and Lord and Lady Ayres as they wend their way into the throng gathering in the antechamber adjoining the ballroom, and sighs quietly. A lecherous old man who would enjoy nothing more than a moment alone with her, and an invert*** who would probably rather face a pit of snakes than dance with her: how will she survive this ordeal of her mother’s making? Why can’t her mother just accept the fact that she is happier being unmarried and running a successful business.
Sighing, Lettice quickly reforms her painted smile and greets the next Hunt Ball guest.
*A bonheur de jour is a type of lady's writing desk. It was introduced in Paris by one of the interior decorators and purveyors of fashionable novelties called marchands-merciers around 1760, and speedily became intensely fashionable. Decorated on all sides, it was designed to sit in the middle of a room so that it could be admired from any angle.
**A Molly-house was a term used in 18th- and 19th-century Britain for a meeting place for homosexual men. The meeting places were generally taverns, public houses, coffeehouses or even private rooms where men could either socialise or meet possible sexual partners.
*** Sexual inversion is a theory of homosexuality popular primarily in the late 19th and early 20th century. Sexual inversion was believed to be an inborn reversal of gender traits: male inverts were, to a greater or lesser degree, inclined to traditionally female pursuits and dress and vice versa.
This grand Georgian interior may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The Georgian style fireplace I have had since I was a teenager and is made from moulded plaster. On its mantlepiece stand two gilt blue and white vases which are from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House in the United Kingdom. They are filled with a mixture of roses made by hand by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The marble and ormolu clock on the mantle between them is of a classical French style of the Georgian or Regency periods and comes from Smallskale Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The fire dogs and guard are made of brass and also come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House, as to the candelabra hanging on the wall either side of the central portrait.
The gilt Louis Quatorze chairs either side of the fireplace and the gilt swan pedestals are made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq. The candelabras on the two pedestals I have had since I was a teenager.
The pair of Palladian console tables in the foreground, with their golden caryatids and marble were commissioned by me from American miniature artisan Peter Cluff. Peter specialises in making authentic and very realistic high quality 1:12 miniatures that reflect his interest in Georgian interior design. His work is highly sought after by miniature collectors worldwide. This pair of tables are one-of-a-kind and very special to me.
The floral arrangements in urns on top of the tables consist of pink roses, white asters and white Queen Anne’s Lace. Both are unmarked, but were made by an American miniature artisan and their pieces have incredible attention to detail. The Seventeenth Century musical statues to the side of the flower arrangements were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. They were hand painted by me.
All the paintings around the Glynes ballroom antechamber in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States and the wallpaper of the ballroom antechamber is an authentic copy of hand-painted Georgian wallpaper from the 1770s.
The marquetry floor of the room is in fact a wooden chessboard. The chessboard was made by my Grandfather, a skillful and creative man in 1952. Two chess sets, a draughts set and three chess boards made by my Grandfather were bequeathed to me as part of his estate when he died a few years ago.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie. Lettice is visiting her family home as her parents host their first Hunt Ball since 1914. Lady Sadie has been completely consumed over the last month by the planning and preparation of the occasion, determined that not only will it be the event of the 1922 county season, but also that it will be a successful entrée for her youngest daughter, still single at twenty-one years of age, to meet a number of eligible and marriageable men. Letters and invitations have flown from Lady Sadie’s bonheur de jour* to the families of eligible bachelors, some perhaps a little too old to be considered before the war, achieving more than modest success. Whilst Lettice enjoys dancing, parties and balls, she is less enthusiastic about the idea of the ball being used as a marriage market than her parents are.
The fancy dress Hunt Ball has now been in full swing for several hours and after the splendid buffet in the Glynes dining room, the guests are starting to thin a little as the older generation and those staying further afield start to depart, whilst some of the younger party-goers cast their eyes about and with heads bowed conspiratorially together discuss fresher pastures to move to before the night is through. Sir John Nettleford-Hughes has departed in a rather disgruntled mood having not had the pleasure of being shown the Glynes portrait of Marie Antoinette by Lettice, leaving in the company of a rather buxom Columbine, noticeably younger than him, anxious to assuage his wounded pride. Nicholas Ayres is noticeably absent, as is Marsden the Chetwynd’s tall and handsome first footman. In spite of the dwindling number of guests, the Georgian style ballroom of Glynes with its golden yellow wallpaper and gilt Louis Quatorze furnishings is still very much alive with colour and movement as couples in slightly deshabille fancy dress dance together. The band hired by the Viscount continues to play foxtrots, and polkas, however the novelty dances of the earlier evening have been replaced with more sedate waltzes. Their sound carries over the general hubbub of voices chattering punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. Around the perimeter of the ballroom’s parquet dance floor, guests sit in chairs and sofas, massaging sore heels and toes, chatting idly over champagne, or admire and remark on the fancy dress attired couples still taking to the floor. Yet one couple who caused quite a stir in the latter part of the evening are not on the floor as Lettice and Selwyn Spencely sit in a quiet alcove of the ballroom drinking champagne, nibbling canapés and laughing over stories of when they played together as children of six, all under the watchful eyes of the great and the good of the county.
“Oh they do look sweet together,” Gerald’s mother, Lady Gwyneth, remarks from her seat on a gilt Louis Quatorze sofa, raising a lace handkerchief to her mouth as she lets out another of her wheezing coughs.
Rubbing her friend and neighbour comfortingly on the back, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, who sits beside her on the sofa, takes her eagle eyes momentarily from her daughter’s romantic progress to look with concern upon her friend. “I do wish you’d reconsidered coming tonight, my dear.”
“And miss this spectacle?” Lady Gwyneth replies in a raspy voice as she catches her breath. “Never!” She takes another few shallow breaths as she presses her chest inside the tightly laced bodice of her Eighteenth Century ballgown. “We haven’t had such an occasion to look forward to since 1914. I wasn’t going to miss this for the world, dear Sadie.”
“This cool spring evening air is not good for you, Gwen.”
“Oh, pooh the cool evening air!” Lady Gwyneth bats away with her fan. “It’s just the remnants of that chest cold I had in November, Sadie.”
“Which was still nagging on New Year’s Eve, Gwen.”
“Now, I won’t have you nanny me, however well meaning the thought is,” She pats Lady Sadie’s hand with her own. “Tonight, of all nights.”
“Yes, well,” Lady Sadie smiles pleasingly as her gaze goes back across the alcove to her daughter and Selwyn. “Sir John went off in rather a huff. However,” Sighing happily she continues. “It does seem to have worked it’s magic, which makes all the planning well worth it.”
“Sir John is no loss my dear,” Lady Gwyneth replies as she takes a sip of her champagne. “It has been whispered that he is known to be a bit of a lecher.”
“If the stories about him are true.”
“Well I’d say they must be. Did you see that girl he left with this evening?”
“No.”
“She was young enough to be his daughter, and she flaunted herself shamelessly before him! No, if Lettice was going to be paired with anyone this evening, you’d be hard pressed to make a better match than Selwyn Spencely.” Lady Gwyneth smiles munificently at the pair. “He’s handsome and charming.”
“Not to mention rather well off, and heir to a duchy.” Lady Sadie breathes, raising her own glass of champagne to her lips.
“All you need is one direct hit,” Lady Gwyneth begins when they are suddenly interrupted by Bramley, the Chetwynd’s butler.
“Er, excuse me My Lady,” he begins.
“Yes Bramley?” Lady Sadie glances up at her faithful retainer with inquisitive eyes. “What is it?”
“Beg pardon the intrusion, My Lady, but Mr. Spencely is asking for another bottle of champagne for he and Miss Lettice to share.”
“Give Mr. Spencely anything he desires, Bramley.” Lady Sadie replies. “Fetch out a decent bottle from the cellars.” Glancing at her friend she quickly adds, “Not that this is poor quality,” She taps her half empty glass with her glove clan finger. “But we don’t want anything to take us off the bullseye. Do we Gwen?” She chuckles as Bramley quietly withdraws.
“Indeed not, Sadie.” Lady Gwyneth agrees, a twittering, girlish laugh escaping her own lips as she speaks. “Spoken like a true cupid!”
“And what are my two favourite ladies plotting?” a male voice with its round tones slightly slurred by champagne pipes up.
“Oh Gerald!” gasps his mother, clasping her chest and wheezing again. “You scared me.”
“Sorry Mummy.”
“Gerald,” Lady Sadie greets him with a stiff and curt nod.
“We were just talking about dear Lettice and that nice gentleman, Selwyn Spencely.” Lady Gwyneth gushes quietly. “They do seem to have,” She pauses as she thinks for the right words. “Hit it off. That is what you Bright Young Things say, isn’t it? To hit it off?”
“I think it was used long before we started using it, Mummy.” Gerald replies, smiling at his mother. He turns and gives Lady Sadie a decidedly colder and calculating look, swaying on the spot slightly as he clutches his half empty champagne flute. “Plotting the wedding, are we Lady Sadie?”
“Oh Gerald,” his mother scoffs kindly. “We were just saying what a sweet couple they make. Don’t you think so too?”
Just at that moment, the two Miss Evanses, the spinster sisters who live in Holland House, a Seventeenth Century manor house in the village, walk over to say their goodbyes to Lady Sadie, but not before engaging Lady Gwyneth in animated conversation, their twittering voices sounding like the crack of dried autumn leaves underfoot.
Gerald glances at the two old women, who must be in their seventies at least, one dressed as Little Bo-Peep complete with shepherdess’ crook and the other as Miss Muffet with a hand crocheted spider dangling from her wrist, both looking more like tragic pantomime dames than anything else and makes sure that his mother is fully engaged with them before commenting on Lettice and Selwyn. “Delightful,” Gerald replies to Lady Sadie in a flat voice, not even glancing over to where Lettice and Selwyn sit, instead holding Lady Sadie’s gaze in his own.
Not to be intimidated, the Edwardian matron looks back at him hostilely. “I didn’t take you for a bad loser, Gerald.” she says crisply.
“A bad loser, Lady Chetwynd?” Gerald sinks down slightly clumsily into the chair next to the sofa upon which the two ladies sit. “Me?”
“You, Gerald.” Lady Sadie answers in clearly enunciated syllables, her eyes narrowing and her mouth pursing bitterly as she does.
“What have I to be a bad loser about, Lady Chetwynd?”
“I should have thought that was obvious. Why, Lettice and Mr. Spencely of course. You always were on the bitter side, even as a child, if Lettice made a new friend who threatened you in her affections.”
“Lettice and Selwyn?” he snorts derisively. “I think not.”
“Oh, don’t play coy with me, Gerald. You’ve been vying for my daughter’s attentions for years: monopolising her at functions and spending more time in her flat than your own from what I can gather.”
“My, Lady Chetwynd,” Gerald sighs. “What clever little spies have you found to infiltrate our lives in London? You really are barking up the wrong proverbial tree with your ideas about Lettice and I. We are friends only, close friends – best friends perhaps – but friends only.”
“You’ve been a bad influence on her,” Lady Sadie continues, lowering her voice so that her friend beside her won’t accidentally hear her insulting words directed towards her son whilst she chats with the Miss Evanses. “I even had to warn her away from you for this evening, so that more eligible young men might stand a better chance of turning her head with you out of the way.”
“Ahh, but I did take her away from Howl… err… Jonty Hastings. I had to save her from his unwanted attentions.”
“Well, be that as it may, Jonty Hastings is no loss. His expectations are nothing in comparison to Mr. Spencely’s.” She waves her glove clad hand in the pair’s general direction. “My daughter could be a future duchess with all going well.”
Gerald leans against the armrest of his chair and starts sniggering as he continues to look incredulously at Lady Sadie.
“What are you laughing at, Gerald?” Lady Sadie snaps.
“You, Lady Chetwynd,” Gerald smiles, snorting as he smothers his chortling less than successfully. “You and your ridiculous schemes.”
“Me… my…” Lady Sadie splutters.
“Oh it’s not that I don’t think that Selwyn and Lettice don’t make a nice couple. They do. But I’d advise you not to matchmake them.” He wags his finger admonishingly at Lady Sadie before continuing rather mysteriously “Don’t forget, I know Selwyn and his family far better than you do, Lady Chetwynd.”
“How dare you!” the old matron hisses, her face draining of colour so that her pallor is as white as her costume. “The impudence!”
“Sorry Lady Chetwynd, but it’s true. The duchess has plans that don’t include Lettice.”
“The duchess?”
“Lady Zinnia: Selwyn’s mother.”
“Lady Zinnia?”
“Yes, I should have thought her distain of you was evident from her obvious snub of you.”
“Gerald, how much of my husband’s champagne have you drunk?” She scowls at him.
“Not enough yet, and certainly not enough to fail noticing Lady Zinnia’s absence from your ball.”
“She’s unwell. A chest cold.” Lady Sadie defends. When Gerald simply nods, cocking a knowing eyebrow as he does, she continues. “Mr. Spencely told me himself. He’s come from her bedside.”
“That must have been a very quick onset of her chest cold, since she was at the theatre with Selwyn on Thursday night.”
“One has heard of such occurrences, Gerald.”
“She must be losing her touch if she couldn’t keep him at home this evening.” When Gerald sees the lack of understanding in Lady Sadie’s flint hard eyes as they bore into him with undisguised hostility, he adds. “You see, when she accepts invitations out of politeness, Lady Zinnia always makes her excuses.” He smiles in a slightly lopsided way. “And when it is an invitation extended to her son for a potentially undesirous match between him and a less than suitable girl, she usually manages to distract him with a made up malady to keep him at home.”
“Gerald, how dare you say such things!” Lady Sadie’s face goes from porcelain white to flushed red as rage surges within her. “You claim you are Lettice’s friend, yet this is how you speak of her? I pity her if you are any gauge of her friends.”
“On the contrary, I’m paying Lettice a compliment, for if Selwyn managed to get here in spite of his mother’s protestations, he must really have wanted to meet her again after all these years.”
“Do you know what I think, Gerald?” Lady Sadie places her glass on the table before her.
“I suspect that you are going to share your insights with me, even if I don’t wish to hear them, Lady Chetwynd.”
She turns fully towards him, leaning heavily upon her own arm rest as she squares her shoulders. “I think you are just a nasty, bitter man, Gerald Bruton. You are angry with the world because of the cards you have been dealt in life. You’re the second son of a family in dire financial circumstances, so your chances of making an advantageous match are nigh on impossible.”
“You may be right, Lady Chetwynd, which is why I enjoy the largess of others so much,” He holds up his nearly empty champagne flute. “You and your daughter included, thank you. And you may also be right that I am bitter about how my life has turned out thus far. I probably shouldn’t have said to you the things I have, and in hindsight I shall doubtless regret it. However, I’m not saying these things to hurt you Lady Chetwynd. Truly I’m not.” He looks at her as intently as he can manage. “I am saying them as a warning to you, so you can stop this ridiculous match before poor Lettice gets hurt. Selwyn is lovely, and he may fall in love with Lettice and she him, but I hope not, for it is Lady Zinnia who will have the final say as to who Selwyn marries. And Lettice is not in the running, Lady Sadie.” He drains the remnants of his champagne from his glass. “And now, if you will excuse me, gracious hostess, I am going to press upon your generosity yet again and fill my glass with your good champagne.” He tries to stand, but makes a false start, slumping back into his seat.
Lady Sadie seizes her chance and turns back to Lady Gwyneth, who is still being held in the court of the Miss Evanses. “Oh Miss Evans, Miss Evans, are you going?” She looks up with an expectant look into their faces. Then, without waiting for a reply, she excuses herself and turns to Lady Gwyneth. “Excuse me my dear,” she hisses quietly. “But I think Gerald has imbibed just a little bit much this evening. I think you and Edmund might take him home.”
“Oh no.” Lady Gwyneth looks beyond her friend’s shoulder and sees Gerald stand up and wobble slightly. “Oh, you’re right.” She pats Lady Sadie’s hands. “Thank you my dear for keeping an eye on him, and thank you so much for such a lovely evening.” She elicits another wheezing cough from deep within her rasping chest as she rises to her feet. “I say again, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
As Lady Sadie turns her attentions to the Miss Evanses, Lady Gwyneth moves over and carefully wraps her arm through her youngest son’s, securing him firmly in spite of her own fragility. “Come Gerald. I think you’ve had enough. Don’t you agree?” she asks kindly as she looks up to his rather sad face with brilliant eyes made even more brilliant by unshed tears flooding them. “We really should be going. What with your father and your brother making nuisances of themselves around the neighbourhood, the last thing our family name can afford is you making a scene at the event of the county’s social season. Now come along.”
“Oh I wasn’t making a scene,” Gerald defends himself, his slurring words giving away his level of inebriation. “I was just telling old Lady Sadie over there some home truths.”
“Yes, well,” Lady Gwyneth remarks, patting his hand comfortingly whilst steering her impressionable son away from their hostess and the romantic looking Lettice and Selwyn. “That’s not a good thing either. You know Sadie doesn’t like being told anything she doesn’t want to hear. Now let’s go home, assuming the old pile hasn’t fallen in on itself out of sheer exhaustion in our absence.”
The pair slowly walk away, taking deliberate steps around the perimeter of the slowly emptying dance floor, nodding goodnight to acquaintances and friends.
*A bonheur de jour is a type of lady's writing desk. It was introduced in Paris by one of the interior decorators and purveyors of fashionable novelties called marchands-merciers around 1760, and speedily became intensely fashionable. Decorated on all sides, it was designed to sit in the middle of a room so that it could be admired from any angle.
This grand Georgian interior may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The gilt Louis Quatorze chair and sofa, and the gilt swan pedestals and round table are made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.
The savoury petite fours on the gilt white porcelain plate have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. Each petit four is only five millimetres in diameter and between five and eight millimetres in height! The selection includes egg and lettuce, Beluga caviar and salmon and cucumber. The two glasses of sparkling champagne are made of real glass and were made by Karen Ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The silver champagne bucket is made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The bottle of Deutz and Geldermann champagne. It is an artisan miniatures and made of glass and has real foil wrapped around its neck. It was made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.
The floral arrangements in urns on top of the pedestals consist of pink roses, white asters and white Queen Anne’s Lace. Both are unmarked, but were made by an American miniature artisan and their pieces have incredible attention to detail.
The Palladian console table (one of a pair) to the right of the photo, with its golden caryatids and marble was commissioned by me from American miniature artisan Peter Cluff. Peter specialises in making authentic and very realistic high quality 1:12 miniatures that reflect his interest in Georgian interior design. His work is highly sought after by miniature collectors worldwide. This pair of tables are one-of-a-kind and very special to me.
The gilt blue and white vase on the console table comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House in the United Kingdom. It is filled with a mixture of roses made by hand by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. A second vase of roses to match is in the immediate foreground to the left of the photo. The candelabras hanging on the wall also come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House.
All the paintings around the Glynes ballroom in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom and the wallpaper of the ballroom antechamber is an authentic copy of hand-painted Georgian wallpaper from the 1770s.
The marquetry floor of the room is in fact a wooden chessboard. The chessboard was made by my Grandfather, a skilful and creative man in 1952. Two chess sets, a draughts set and three chess boards made by my Grandfather were bequeathed to me as part of his estate when he died a few years ago.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Tonight however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie. Lettice is visiting her family home as her parents host their first Hunt Ball since 1914. Lady Sadie has been completely consumed over the last month by the planning and preparation of the occasion, determined that not only will it be the event of the 1922 county season, but also that it will be a successful entrée for her youngest daughter, still single at twenty-one years of age, to meet a number of eligible and marriageable men. Letters and invitations have flown from Lady Sadie’s bonheur de jour* to the families of eligible bachelors, some perhaps a little too old to be considered before the war, achieving more than modest success. Whilst Lettice enjoys dancing, parties and balls, she is less enthusiastic about the idea of the ball being used as a marriage market than her parents are.
The fancy dress Hunt Ball is now in full swing. The band hired by the Viscount plays waltzes, foxtrots, and polkas, as well as a smattering of novelty dances like the Grizzly Bear and the Bunny Hug to amuse the younger set of party-goers. Their sound carries over the general hubbub of voices chattering punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. The Georgian style ballroom of Glynes with its golden yellow wallpaper and gilt Louis Quatorze furnishings is alive with colour and movement as pirates dance with nursery rhyme dames, maharajas foxtrot with princesses and clowns waltz with ladies in Georgian dress. Around the perimeter of the ballroom’s parquet dance floor, guest mill about, sharing county and London gossip, or admire and remark on the fancy dress attired couples taking to the floor. In their midst, Lettice, dressed as Cinderella in an Eighteenth Century gown and pomaded wig, dances, or rather tries to dance, a foxtrot with eligible bachelor and heir to several large estates, Jonty Hastings.
“Oh, do push off Howley, there’s a good chap!” Gerald says rudely as he tries to cut in and sweep Lettice away from Jonty’s rather stiff and awkward arms. “I don’t think Lettice’s feet can survive any more of your hopeless, uncoordinated trotting.”
“Don’t call me that, Gerald,” Jonty replies rather wetly, his face taking on the appearance of a petulant child as it reddens in embarrassment. “I’ve not been called that for years, thankfully, after you christened me with that awful nickname. You always were the mean one.” He glances at Lettice who is holding Gerald’s gaze imploringly. “Except to your favourites, of course.”
“I’m sorry Howley,” Gerald continues, deliberately ignoring Jonty’s request not to use the nickname given him. “But you can’t seriously expect me to stand back and watch you try unsuccessfully to sweep the most eligible and beautiful girl in the place into your arms. It’s simply too preposterous for words. Try one of the Miss Evanses instead.” Gerald nods in the direction of the two elderly spinster sisters who live in Holland House, a Seventeenth Century manor house in Glynes village. “They seem to be more to your standards, and they aren’t as picky as Lettice is.”
As Jonty pauses to look in the direction of the two elderly women, one dressed as Little Bo-Peep and the other as Miss Muffett, both looking like macabre versions of their nursery rhyme characters, Gerald seizes his chance and cuts firmly in, casting Jonty aside with an adept movement and sweeping Lettice quickly away.
“Oh you really are awful, Gerald!” Lettice says with a serious look, gazing at her friend dressed in a Tudor courtier’s outfit made from the brocades and laces left over from his clients’ commissioned frocks.
“Well, I’m the second son of an insignificant and impoverished family, so it’s my prerogative to despise someone like Howley Howling Hastings with all his wealth and good connections.”
“I don’t think it suits you to be so cruel, Gerald. You may not have Jonty’s family bank vault, but you have grace, charm and handsomeness that he doesn’t possess, and I think that makes you about even. Poor Jonty.”
“What?” Gerald replies. “Would you rather I left you with him, Lettice?”
“Well, no.“ Lettice admits with a downwards glance as her cheeks fill with an embarrassed flush.
“Exactly! We can’t have our Cinderella of the ball being monopolised by such a wet blanket as Howley! You’ll never marry him anyway.”
“I think Mater would like it if I did.” Lettice admits. “By your own admission, he’s very wealthy, and very eligible.”
“So is Nicholas Ayers,” Gerald counters. “In fact, he’s richer, but you aren’t going to marry him. I think if he has his way, he won’t marry anyone, and I stand a far better chance with him than you do. Doesn’t your mother know he is a lost cause?”
“No, she doesn’t,” she cautions Gerald. “And you mustn’t tell her, Gerald. She’d be horrified, parading him before me if she knew. Thinking of my mother, where is she?” Lettice asks, glancing around at the sweeping couples that glide about them.
Gerald cranes his neck to try and see over the top of the sea of bobbing wigs, turbans, pirate hats and clown cones. “She’s over there,” He glances with concern at Lettice.
“What is it Gerald?”
“She’s talking with Sir John Nettleford-Hughes, no doubt about you. Lucky I’ve saved you, my dear! Now, just follow my lead.”
And with that, Gerald begins to move Lettice around the floor, away from the watchful eyes of her mother and other party guests to the door leading out into the antechamber adjoining the ballroom. As they reach the edge of the floor, Gerald sweeps Lettice out, bows and offers her his arm as he escorts her off the floor and through the doors of the antechamber.
“Come. I think you’re in need of refreshments, Cinderella,” Gerald says with a smile. “After all your exertions on the dancefloor.”
Gerald escorts Lettice through the guests milling about in the antechamber, the pair smiling and imparting passing greetings with nods to friends and acquaintances they meet along the way.
“Where are you taking me?” Lettice asks.
Gerald doesn’t answer her, until finally they walk out into the great Adam style hall of Glynes. The sound of chatter from the room behind them takes on a ghostly air, as do the refrains of the band as they strike up a waltz.
“Oh dear. I should be dancing this with Nicholas Ayres.” Lettice remarks.
“Oh pooh, Nicholas!” Gerald scoffs. “He’ll be as grateful to be off the hook as you are, darling. Here!” He stops before one of the gilt Palladian console tables that flank the entrance to the ballroom antechamber and indicates to its surface next to an ostentatious floral arrangement of soft pink hot house roses, white asters and frothy Queen Anne’s lace. “I managed to steal a few petit-fours from the buffet being set up in the dining room, and get u a fresh glass of champagne each.” He picks up a glass of bubbling golden liquid and passes it to Lettice. “Cin cin, darling!”
“Oh Gerald!” Lettice gasps, happily accepting the glass which she clinks with his. “How did you manage to do it?”
“Well, as you said so yourself just moments ago, I have grace, charm and handsomeness: traits that come in useful from time to time.”
“How?”
“There was a rather gullible girl I remember from the village who is helping the caterers set up the dining room table. She was happy to fetch a couple of little deadlies for the young man from the Big House, especially when I begged and cast her a mock look of sadness and misty eyes.”
“Oh, you are wicked, Gerald. You do know how to make an evening more pleasurable.”
Gerald smiles proudly, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“I do hope you’re happy with the selection. I managed to get a caviar, a lettuce and egg and a tuna and cucumber.” He glances down at the gilt edged white plate on the console table’s surface standing next to a porcelain figurine of a girl playing a lute.
“Rather!” Lettice concurs, removing her right glove and taking up the caviar petit-four. She sighs as she takes a small bite from it. “Oh! I was so busy dancing with eligible bachelor after eligible bachelor that I hadn’t noticed how hungry I was.” She smiles and takes another bite and then a third, consuming the whole thing.
“Pleased to be of service, my lady!” Gerald makes a sweeping bow before her.
“You know I could get into terrible trouble being out here with you, you know.” Lettice giggles, taking another sip of cool champagne.
“How so?” Gerald asks. “You know you are perfectly safe with me.”
“Oh it’s not that. Mamma gave me a stern talking to before the commencement of this evening’s ceremonies. She warned me that your acerbic tongue is a bad influence on me.”
“Acerbic tongue?” Gerald cries, looking aghast, albeit not seriously, at Lettice. “Moi? Acerbic! The nerve of her saying that!”
“And she told me that it would be a waste of my time an energy spending time with you, when you are so frightfully unsuitable, being the spare, rather than the heir.”
“Not to mention my family’s somewhat questionable finances.”
“Well, “ Lettice blushes, casting her eyes down to the face of the statue of the lute player. “She did mention that too.”
“Did she also mention I’d rather take off with Leslie than you?” Gerald asks her in a whisper. When Lettice shakes her head, he sighs and then continues in a slightly higher volume, yet still not much more than a whisper. “Well at least some things about my life still remain private. I suppose our money troubles were bound to reach Lady Sadie’s ears at some stage. I just hope she doesn’t mention it to Mamma.”
“Surely if your father is in financial difficulties, your mother would know about it, Gerald.”
“I don’t think so. He has always done his best to protect Mamma from having to worry about such things. When she mentions going up to London for the Season, or buying a new hat, he always manages to placate her with some story or other. So, as far as I’m aware, she has no idea and lives in blissful ignorance.”
Suddenly, the door leading from the driveway clatters open and a gentleman in a long cloak and top hat appears in silhouette against the lights overhead. With all the guests having arrived some time before, the front door is no longer manned by the Chetwynd’s first footman, Marsden, who is now occupied with serving champagne in the ballroom, so the gentleman opens the glass vestibule door himself and walks in unannounced into the hall, which is empty except for a few couples trying to find a moment of privacy in the shadow of a pillar and Lettice and Gerald enjoying a few minutes of elicit peace.
“I say, can I help you?” Lettice asks, placing her glass on the marble tabletop and walking across the hall.
“Oh I say,” the gentleman remarks in a clipped, well-bred voice as he removes his cloak and shakes it out noisily. “I am sorry. I’m awfully late. Can you point me in the direction of one of…” He stops abruptly as he gazes down at Lettice’s face looking up at him.
“One of?” Lettice asks, looking up expectantly into a pair of rather striking deep brown eyes.
“Goodness! Can it?” the stranger stammers. “No! No, it… no it can’t be! Can it?”
Lettice continues to look up in bewilderment at the man as he now removes his hat, revealing a head of neatly coiffed brown hair that frames his handsome face. “I’m afraid you’ll have to finish your sentence if you wish me to help you, sir.” she remarks prettily.
“I’m so sorry,” the stranger apologises again. “But are you the Honourable Miss Lettice Chetwynd by any chance?”
Lettice shakes her head slightly in disbelief, her eyes squinting. “Yes, yes I am. Have we met, sir?”
“Oh not for many years. The last time I saw you was at Queen Charlotte’s Ball** in 1919, but I haven’t actually spoken to you since we were about six, yet I’d know your face anywhere.”
“Not since we were six?” Lettice giggles, her laugh echoing about the mostly deserted entrance hall. “You have a good memory for faces if you remember mine so well. Who are you?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to recognise me, dear Lettice, but I’m Selwyn: Selwyn Spencely.”
Lettice’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Good heavens! Selwyn!” Lettice laughs loudly. “I say, how do you do!”
“I’m sorry I’m so unconscionably late!” Selwyn apologises again. “My mother has been unwell with a rather nasty cold. I was reading to her, and I tarried later with her than I perhaps should have. I just wanted to be sure she had dozed off before I left.”
“That’s quite alright, Selwyn.” Lettice continues to look up in surprise to Selwyn’s patrician face. “The last time I can remember seeing you was when we were around six and you were covered in hedgerow mud, being pulled away by your mother into a waiting carriage.”
“Yes,” chuckled Selwyn. “I remember that occasion well. She was furious!”
“I remember thinking it was at odds to her name, being a beautiful flower. Violet isn’t it?”
“Zinnia, actually.”
“Oh yes! Lady Zinnia!” Lettice giggles self-consciously. Then, looking down she notices her newest guest’s hands are full. “Oh here, let me take your cape and hat, Selwyn.” She reaches out and takes them from him. “I’ll find Bromley or another servant to take them away.”
A gentle, yet deliberate clearing of his throat alerts both Selwyn and Lettice, who had forgotten all about him momentarily, to Gerald’s presence behind them, lolling against the console table. “Hullo Selwyn.” he greets the newcomer crisply.
“Gerald! How do you do, old chap!” Selwyn smiles over at Gerald.
“I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Lettice remarks.
“Oh yes,” Selwyn replies jovially. “Gerald and I are members of the same club. Aren’t we Gerald? I haven’t seen much of you lately.”
“Well, I’ve been too busy to spend much time at the club lately.” Gerald excuses himself offhandedly.
“Ahh.” Selwyn acknowledges non-committally, yet with an air of knowing something unspoken as he cocks an eyebrow. “Frocks, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes!” Lettice enthuses. “He’s made my wardrobe for more stylish and modish, haven’t you Gerald?”
Gerald blushes at the compliment, but says nothing.
“Well, come along Selwyn,” Lettice says with delight as she hooks her arm into his. “Let’s go find Mamma and Pappa. They’ll be pleased to see you here, even if your mother couldn’t be here.”
“Shall I take those?” Gerald asks helpfully, reaching out for Selwyn’s cape, hat and gloves. “You can’t very well go back into the ballroom holding them.”
“Oh would you, Gerald?” Lettice exclaims. “Oh that would be a wonderful help.”
“I’m practically a member of the family, so I’ll have no difficulty finding Bramley.” He takes the items in his hands. “Now, you two run along.” He flaps his hands at them. “Shoo.”
The pair give Gerald appreciative smiles, and then walk off slowly, arm in arm, back into the ballroom antechamber, Lettice’s giggling and their quite chatting quickly enveloped into the general burble of voices.
Gerald looks back at the two unfinished glasses of champagne and the canapes and sighs, suddenly acutely aware of how empty the cavernous hallway is without his beloved friend.
*A bonheur de jour is a type of lady's writing desk. It was introduced in Paris by one of the interior decorators and purveyors of fashionable novelties called marchands-merciers around 1760, and speedily became intensely fashionable. Decorated on all sides, it was designed to sit in the middle of a room so that it could be admired from any angle.
**The Queen Charlotte's Ball is an annual British debutante ball. The ball was founded in 1780 by George III as a birthday celebration in honour of his wife, Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, for whom the ball is named. The Queen Charlotte's Ball originally served as a fundraiser for the Queen Charlotte's and Chelsea Hospital. The annual ball continued after Queen Charlotte's death in 1818, but was criticised by the British Royal Family in the 1950s and 1960s and folded in 1976. It was revived in the Twenty First Century by Jenny Hallam-Peel, a former debutante, who shifted its focus from entering high society to teaching business skills, networking, and etiquette, and fundraising for charities. Debutantes being presented curtsey to a large birthday cake in honour of Queen Charlotte.
This grand Georgian interior may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The floral arrangement in urn on top of the console table consists of pink roses, white asters and white Queen Anne’s Lace. Although unmarked, it was made by an American miniature artisan with incredible attention to detail. The Seventeenth Century musical statue of the lady playing a lute to the right of the flower arrangement was made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. It was hand painted by me. The floral arrangement and the statue are both one of a pair.
The savoury petite fours on the gilt white porcelain plate have been made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. Each petit four is only five millimetres in diameter and between five and eight millimetres in height! The selection includes egg and lettuce, Beluga caviar and salmon and cucumber. The two glasses of sparkling champagne are made of real glass and were made by Karen Ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom.
The Palladian console table on which the items stand is one of a pair. With their golden caryatids and marble tops, they were commissioned by me from American miniature artisan Peter Cluff. Peter specialises in making authentic and very realistic high quality 1:12 miniatures that reflect his interest in Georgian interior design. His work is highly sought after by miniature collectors worldwide. This pair of tables are one-of-a-kind and very special to me.
The gilt Louis Quatorze chairs and the gilt swan pedestals in the background are made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.
All the paintings around the Glynes ballroom antechamber in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States and the wallpaper of the ballroom antechamber is an authentic copy of hand-painted Georgian wallpaper from the 1770s.
The marquetry floor of the room is in fact a wooden chessboard. The chessboard was made by my Grandfather, a skilful and creative man in 1952. Two chess sets, a draughts set and three chess boards made by my Grandfather were bequeathed to me as part of his estate when he died a few years ago.
April 26, 2022 - "The Mauritshuis is located in the centre of The Hague, the historical and political heart of the Netherlands. A small world-class museum with a formidable collection of Dutch and Flemish paintings from the 17th century; the golden age of this type of art. The museum consists of two striking historical buildings: the Mauritshuis, a city palace on the Plein in The Hague and the Prince William V Gallery at the Buitenhof.
In the Mauritshuis, you’ll discover iconic masterpieces, such as the Girl with a Pearl Earring by Johannes Vermeer and the Anatomy Lesson of Dr Nicolaes Tulp by Rembrandt, which attract hundreds of thousands of visitors from all over the world to our museum every year.
The moment you enter the Mauritshuis, you start experiencing the love for these old masters, and our drive to share the history and stories behind them in a modern and inspiring way with a broad and diverse audience." Previous text from the following website: www.mauritshuis.nl/en/visit/
n the mists of Avalon lay the secrets of the holy grail. The Arthurian legends are alive and well over at Enchantment!
We're getting Medieval over there with our *pm* Medieval Sconce.
These sconces come in both Fresh & Faded versions. Faded is aged with patina, rusts, and faded metal. Have on/off touch that turns on the flame, light effects, sound, and smoke effects. 3 LI as rezzed and they are rezzed pretty large to give a grandiose feel fit for a king!
6 different versions are available to purchase at the event.
We are also involved in the Enchantment Hunt!
Come to our main store and find the sword in the stone and own one of the new *pm* Medieval Mystic robes! The hunt gift is the Emerald version, in both Masculine and Feminine fits.
The Medieval Mystic robes come in 3 sizes since they cover the whole body except for the feet and head. Both in Masculine and Feminine fits. Fresh and Faded in each set. Faded has muted tones and dirt & weathering along the bottom hem.
If you like the Emerald one maybe you'll like one of the other 5 versions for sale at the main store.
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• Open: 7-October-2023
• Close: 31-October-2023
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Casa Amatller is a building in the Catalan Modernisme style designed by Josep Puig i Cadafalch as a residence for chocolatier Antoni Amatller. It was constructed between 1898 and 1900. A complete restoration was carried out in 2010-2015 to return the interior architecture, furnishings and decorative elements to the original state.
Tic Tac Toe anyone!?!
"Our humanity rests upon a series of learned behaviors,
woven together into patterns that are infinitely fragile
and never directly inherited."
~ Margaret Mead ~
"Parents are like shuttles on a loom.
They join the threads of the past with threads of the future
and leave their own bright patterns as they go."
~ Fred Rogers ~
"All of imagination - everything that we think, we feel, we sense -
comes through the human brain.
And once we create new patterns in this brain,
once we shape the brain in a new way,
it never returns to its original shape."
~ Jay S. Walker ~
As one of the showpiece main rooms of Billilla mansion when male guests came to call, the billiard room is one of the grandest rooms in the house. With an interconnecting door between it and the adjoining dining room, whilst the women retired to the feminine surrounds of the drawing room, the men could retreat to this strictly male preserve with their brandy and cigars and discuss business over a game or two of billiards.
Although part of the original 1878 house and featuring some High Victorian detailing, the billiard room did not escape the 1907 redecoration, and as a result it also features some very fine Art Nouveau detailing.
The Billilla billiards room is also one of the most intact rooms in the whole house, as it still features its original and ornate Victorian carpet and the original walnut Alcock and Company billiard table and scoreboard.
A very masculine oriented room, the walls feature Victorian era dark wood dado panelling about a third of the way up the walls. Above that the walls are simply painted, and even to this day they still feature marks where chalked cues once rested. Original ornate Victorian gasoliers that could be swiveled into position still jut from the walls above the dado panelling. With their original fluted glass shades remaining in place, the gasoliers still have functioning taps to increase or decrease the gas supply.
The room is heated by a large fireplace featuring an insert of beautiful tube lined Art Nouveau peacock feathers, once again quietly underlining the fact that this is a man's room.
The Victorian era carpet of the billiard room is still bright and in remarkably good condition for its age. It is thick and dyed in bright colours in a pattern designed to imitate ornate floor tiles.
The ceiling of the billiard room is decorated with ornate stylised foliate Art Nouveau patterns and mouldings of leaves. Whilst Art Nouveau is often referred to as a feminine style, the ceiling of the billiard room shows how when applied in a particular way it could also be very strong and masculine.
Suspended over the walnut Alcock and Company billiard table the gleaming polished brass foliate style gasolier has subsequently been electrified and features five of its six green glass shades.
One of the few more feminine touches to what is otherwise a very masculine room are the stained glass lunettes over the billiard room's three windows. In keeping with other original windows of the house, they feature a single flower, in this case a red tulip.
Alcock and Company Manufacturers was established in 1853 when Melbourne was still a very new city of less than twenty years old. they still manufacture billiard tables from their Malvern establishment today.
Built in High Victorian style in 1878 for successful gold miner Robert Wright, Billilla mansion was originally a thirteen room mansion erected on seven and a half acres of land.
When economic boom turned to bust in the 1880s, the property was purchased in 1888 by wealthy New South Wales pastoralist William Weatherly who named it Billilla after his land holdings and established a home there for his wife Jeannie and their children Violet, Gladys and Lionel.
The house was substantially altered by architect Walter Richmond Butler in 1907, extending the house beyond its original thirteen rooms and adding the Art Nouveau façade seen today.
After William Weatherly's death in 1914, his wife, who was much younger, remained living there until her own death in 1933. She bequeathed the property to her daughter, Violet, who maintained the home with reduced staff until her own death in 1972.
The property was purchased in 1973 by the Bayside Council who subsequently used Billilla as a historical house with guided tours, a wedding and events venue, a school and finally in 2009 as an artist's precinct in the property's outbuildings. Billilla is a beautiful heritage property retaining many of its original features thanks to its long private ownership still incorporating a stately formal garden and the magnificent historic house.
Billilla, at 26 Halifax Street, Brighton, is one of Melbourne’s few remaining significant homesteads, built on land which had originally been owned by Nicholas Were. The house has a mixture of architectural styles, featuring a Victorian design with Art Nouveau features and has exquisite formal gardens, which retain much of their original Nineteenth Century layout.
Billilla retains many original Victorian elements and a number of outbuildings still stand to the rear of the property including the butler’s quarters, dairy, meat house, stable garden store and coach house.
Billilla was opened to the general public as part of the Melbourne Open House weekend 2022.
Billilla was used as a backdrop in the 1980 Australian Channel 10 miniseries adaptation of Sumner Locke Elliott's "Water Under the Bridge". It was used at the Sydney harbourside home of Luigi, Honor and Carrie Mazzini.
National Archives, Washington DC
U.S. Presidents Day, officially known as Washington's Birthday, is a federal holiday in the United States and is celebrated on the third Monday of February. In 2009, Presidents Day falls on February 16.
May 1, 2022 - Peering down Marnixstraat toward the Hirsch & Cie building located at Leidseplein 25. On the right is more of the expansive Delamar Theater and the building at the end of the street is the Hard Rock Hotel Amsterdam American. On the left is International Theater Amsterdam. This area is known as the Leidseplein Entertainment District. Amsterdam, Netherlands.
May 21, 2023 - Fine Second Empire style house built in 1920 located at 615 E Town Street in the Town Street Historic District. Columbus, Ohio.
As to be expected, the servants' quarters of Billilla are very plain and serviceable in comparison to the opulent décor of the family's part of the house. Gone are the wallpapers and carpets, replaced by flagstone and plain wooden floors and cream and ochre painted walls or tiled dados. Nevertheless, they were much better appointed than some other houses of the day.
The long servants hall is made light and airy by the provision of skylights that afford views of the towering house chimneys and the skies above.
All the servants' rooms were lit by gaslight, as were the family rooms. The Weatherly's houskeeper's parlour, known below stairs as the "pugs' parlour" still features original ornate brass gasolier and wall sconces. Although now electrified, they still feature their original gas valves.
Built in High Victorian style in 1878 for successful gold miner Robert Wright, Billilla mansion was originally a thirteen room mansion erected on seven and a half acres of land.
When economic boom turned to bust in the 1880s, the property was purchased in 1888 by wealthy New South Wales pastoralist William Weatherly who named it Billilla after his land holdings and established a home there for his wife Jeannie and their children Violet, Gladys and Lionel.
The house was substantially altered by architect Walter Richmond Butler in 1907, extending the house beyond its original thirteen rooms and adding the Art Nouveau façade seen today.
After William Weatherly's death in 1914, his wife, who was much younger, remained living there until her own death in 1933. She bequeathed the property to her daughter, Violet, who maintained the home with reduced staff until her own death in 1972.
The property was purchased in 1973 by the Bayside Council who subsequently used Billilla as a historical house with guided tours, a wedding and events venue, a school and finally in 2009 as an artist's precinct in the property's outbuildings. Billilla is a beautiful heritage property retaining many of its original features thanks to its long private ownership still incorporating a stately formal garden and the magnificent historic house.
Billilla, at 26 Halifax Street, Brighton, is one of Melbourne’s few remaining significant homesteads, built on land which had originally been owned by Nicholas Were. The house has a mixture of architectural styles, featuring a Victorian design with Art Nouveau features and has exquisite formal gardens, which retain much of their original Nineteenth Century layout.
Billilla retains many original Victorian elements and a number of outbuildings still stand to the rear of the property including the butler’s quarters, dairy, meat house, stable garden store and coach house.
Billilla was opened to the general public as part of the Melbourne Open House weekend 2022.
Billilla was used as a backdrop in the 1980 Australian Channel 10 miniseries adaptation of Sumner Locke Elliott's "Water Under the Bridge". It was used at the Sydney harbourside home of Luigi, Honor and Carrie Mazzini.
Cheap Book Racks blogged Kid-Friendly IKEA Hack
top bunk, bookshelf: IKEA BEKVÄM spice racks www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/40070185 $3.99
As one of the showpiece main rooms of Billilla mansion when male guests came to call, the billiard room is one of the grandest rooms in the house. With an interconnecting door between it and the adjoining dining room, whilst the women retired to the feminine surrounds of the drawing room, the men could retreat to this strictly male preserve with their brandy and cigars and discuss business over a game or two of billiards.
Although part of the original 1878 house and featuring some High Victorian detailing, the billiard room did not escape the 1907 redecoration, and as a result it also features some very fine Art Nouveau detailing.
The Billilla billiards room is also one of the most intact rooms in the whole house, as it still features its original and ornate Victorian carpet and the original walnut Alcock and Company billiard table and scoreboard.
A very masculine oriented room, the walls feature Victorian era dark wood dado panelling about a third of the way up the walls. Above that the walls are simply painted, and even to this day they still feature marks where chalked cues once rested. Original ornate Victorian gasoliers that could be swiveled into position still jut from the walls above the dado panelling. With their original fluted glass shades remaining in place, the gasoliers still have functioning taps to increase or decrease the gas supply.
The room is heated by a large fireplace featuring an insert of beautiful tube lined Art Nouveau peacock feathers, once again quietly underlining the fact that this is a man's room.
The Victorian era carpet of the billiard room is still bright and in remarkably good condition for its age. It is thick and dyed in bright colours in a pattern designed to imitate ornate floor tiles.
The ceiling of the billiard room is decorated with ornate stylised foliate Art Nouveau patterns and mouldings of leaves. Whilst Art Nouveau is often referred to as a feminine style, the ceiling of the billiard room shows how when applied in a particular way it could also be very strong and masculine.
Suspended over the walnut Alcock and Company billiard table the gleaming polished brass foliate style gasolier has subsequently been electrified and features five of its six green glass shades.
One of the few more feminine touches to what is otherwise a very masculine room are the stained glass lunettes over the billiard room's three windows. In keeping with other original windows of the house, they feature a single flower, in this case a red tulip.
Alcock and Company Manufacturers was established in 1853 when Melbourne was still a very new city of less than twenty years old. they still manufacture billiard tables from their Malvern establishment today.
Built in High Victorian style in 1878 for successful gold miner Robert Wright, Billilla mansion was originally a thirteen room mansion erected on seven and a half acres of land.
When economic boom turned to bust in the 1880s, the property was purchased in 1888 by wealthy New South Wales pastoralist William Weatherly who named it Billilla after his land holdings and established a home there for his wife Jeannie and their children Violet, Gladys and Lionel.
The house was substantially altered by architect Walter Richmond Butler in 1907, extending the house beyond its original thirteen rooms and adding the Art Nouveau façade seen today.
After William Weatherly's death in 1914, his wife, who was much younger, remained living there until her own death in 1933. She bequeathed the property to her daughter, Violet, who maintained the home with reduced staff until her own death in 1972.
The property was purchased in 1973 by the Bayside Council who subsequently used Billilla as a historical house with guided tours, a wedding and events venue, a school and finally in 2009 as an artist's precinct in the property's outbuildings. Billilla is a beautiful heritage property retaining many of its original features thanks to its long private ownership still incorporating a stately formal garden and the magnificent historic house.
Billilla, at 26 Halifax Street, Brighton, is one of Melbourne’s few remaining significant homesteads, built on land which had originally been owned by Nicholas Were. The house has a mixture of architectural styles, featuring a Victorian design with Art Nouveau features and has exquisite formal gardens, which retain much of their original Nineteenth Century layout.
Billilla retains many original Victorian elements and a number of outbuildings still stand to the rear of the property including the butler’s quarters, dairy, meat house, stable garden store and coach house.
Billilla was opened to the general public as part of the Melbourne Open House weekend 2022.
Billilla was used as a backdrop in the 1980 Australian Channel 10 miniseries adaptation of Sumner Locke Elliott's "Water Under the Bridge". It was used at the Sydney harbourside home of Luigi, Honor and Carrie Mazzini.
As to be expected, the servants' quarters of Billilla are very plain and serviceable in comparison to the opulent décor of the family's part of the house. Gone are the wallpapers and carpets, replaced by flagstone and plain wooden floors and cream and ochre painted walls or tiled dados. Nevertheless, they were much better appointed than some other houses of the day.
The long servants hall is made light and airy by the provision of skylights that afford views of the towering house chimneys and the skies above.
All the servants' rooms were lit by gaslight, as were the family rooms. The Weatherly's houskeeper's parlour, known below stairs as the "pugs' parlour" still features original ornate brass gasolier and wall sconces. Although now electrified, they still feature their original gas valves.
Built in High Victorian style in 1878 for successful gold miner Robert Wright, Billilla mansion was originally a thirteen room mansion erected on seven and a half acres of land.
When economic boom turned to bust in the 1880s, the property was purchased in 1888 by wealthy New South Wales pastoralist William Weatherly who named it Billilla after his land holdings and established a home there for his wife Jeannie and their children Violet, Gladys and Lionel.
The house was substantially altered by architect Walter Richmond Butler in 1907, extending the house beyond its original thirteen rooms and adding the Art Nouveau façade seen today.
After William Weatherly's death in 1914, his wife, who was much younger, remained living there until her own death in 1933. She bequeathed the property to her daughter, Violet, who maintained the home with reduced staff until her own death in 1972.
The property was purchased in 1973 by the Bayside Council who subsequently used Billilla as a historical house with guided tours, a wedding and events venue, a school and finally in 2009 as an artist's precinct in the property's outbuildings. Billilla is a beautiful heritage property retaining many of its original features thanks to its long private ownership still incorporating a stately formal garden and the magnificent historic house.
Billilla, at 26 Halifax Street, Brighton, is one of Melbourne’s few remaining significant homesteads, built on land which had originally been owned by Nicholas Were. The house has a mixture of architectural styles, featuring a Victorian design with Art Nouveau features and has exquisite formal gardens, which retain much of their original Nineteenth Century layout.
Billilla retains many original Victorian elements and a number of outbuildings still stand to the rear of the property including the butler’s quarters, dairy, meat house, stable garden store and coach house.
Billilla was opened to the general public as part of the Melbourne Open House weekend 2022.
Billilla was used as a backdrop in the 1980 Australian Channel 10 miniseries adaptation of Sumner Locke Elliott's "Water Under the Bridge". It was used at the Sydney harbourside home of Luigi, Honor and Carrie Mazzini.
April 30, 2022 - "The American Hotel on the Leidseplein is a hotel and café restaurant with an Jugendstil reading room. It was built in 1898-1902 by W. Kromhout and W.G. Jansen in the style of Hendrik Petrus Berlage. In 1927-1928 an expansion was realized from a design by the architect G.J. Rutgers in collaboration with K. Bakker. Both the expansion and the café are National Heritage sites." Previous description from the following website: curate.nd.edu/show/nv935141j31 I have done numerous searched on this building and this was the only description that I thought was worth using. For such a monumental building you would think there would be a definitive description of its significance. The new owners gloss over the history of the building on their website which is very disappointing since this building is a gem!
April 22, 2022 - Approaching Sint-Carolus Borromeuskerk (Saint Charles Borromeo Church) while walking on Winjgaardstaat in Antwerp, Belgium.
Every time I park at the downtown parking garage I end up taking at least a shot or two of these light fixtures on the outside walls. It's something about the minimalist design on that huge, blank wall, and the combination of different textures...{=/
Besides all that, it looks like a floating pyramid...^+^