Kristine Hughes's Blog, page 143

Travels with Victoria: Walmer Castle

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A visit to Walmer Castle opens a number of interesting windows on English history. As you might expect if you have read this blog for a while, one of those windows concerns the Duke of Wellington, our favorite hero. But the story began centuries before the Duke arrived on the scene.

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Above, the moat is now partially filled in with garden and lawn, but when Walmer was built in 1539 by Henry VIII, it was an important defensive feature.  Concerned about invasion by Spain, the king ordered a chain of fortresses along the coast, including Deal Castle, just a few miles north of Walmer.  Henry had defied the Church of Rome, divorced the Spanish Catherine of Aragon and married Anne Boleyn.  He had reason for concern.

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The design of Walmer (above) and Deal, which is the larger of the two, responded to the technological developments in firepower by the sixteenth century. The low shape and size provided positions for many types and calibres of guns as well as making a difficult target from ships out at sea. The goal was to protect the coastal harbors and fleet anchorages along the Downs of eastern Kent.

 
[image error] Cannons on the parapet at Walmer Castle
Unlike the town of Sandwich just up the road, Walmer is still right on the English Channel beach.  The Spanish Armada did not approach until 1588;  although the defenses at Deal and Walmer were prepared, the action took place elsewhere.
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Alongside the canons, are comfortable lounge chairs for gazing at the sea. Looking in the opposite direction, the residential parts of the castle have the look of a comfortable Georgian house.
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The office of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is ancient, but became less important by the 16th century, because most of the original ports had silted up and were no longer required to provide ships to the Crown -- which had the Royal Navy at its disposal. Nevertheless, the office continued with limited responsibilities; by the 19th century, it was a largely ceremonial position. Walmer Castle has been the residence of the Lords Warden since 1708.
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The Dining room also has a Georgian look.
Prime Minister William Pitt the Younger was the Lord Warden from 1792 until his death in 1806, the first commoner to hold the post. Receiving the annual stipend helped him to offset some of his debts while also providing a position from which he could raise a local militia during the wars with France. Pitt's niece, Lady Hester Stanhope (1776-1839), lived at Walmer and worked hard to improve the gardens.  Later, Lady Hester became famous (or perhaps infamous) for living in the Lebanese wilderness, reclusive and devoted to the occult.
[image error] interior shots from English HeritageThe Duke of Wellington spent increasing amounts of time at Walmer as he aged. This is the room in which he died in 1852; he had served as Lord Warden since 1829. More about the Duke at Walmer will be on the blog tomorrow. (Yes, Kristine, that's the armchair in which the Duke breathed his last).


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This view of the garden with the castle behind the pavilion shows you how dry the spring had been in Kent in 2011. Even a short distance from the sea, the lawn was browning.  Among some of the other significant Lords Warden were W.H. Smith (1825-1891), the founder of railway newsagents, whose company still bears his name on every British High
Street and well beyond; HRH The Prince of Wales, later Edward VII; Sir Winston Churchill; and HM Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.  Since her death, the post has been held by Admiral Lord Boyce.
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This weather-beaten lion somehow symbolizes Walmer perfectly for me, a place which time has passsed by but which still provides an afternoon's enjoyment and remembrance of things past.


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Tomorrow, more on the Duke of Wellington at Walmer; Next on Travels with Victoria, Penshurst Place

Travels with Victoria: The Charming Town of Sandwich, Kent

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Sandwich has little or nothing to do with the famous dish of the name, other than the fact that the 4th Earl of Sandwich invented it in the 18th century. The earl's title had been taken from the name of the city in the 17th century. However, one of the amusing vagaries of geography is in the vicinity. I must admit I never saw the hamlet of Ham.

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If you need a glass of milk with your sandwich, you will find it still delivered in glass bottles.  Shades of long ago!

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And just in case you wondered where the meat came from...
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But seriously, folks... Sandwich has been important since before the Roman landings here in the first century AD, and as one of the vital Cinque Ports, so designated in the 12th century.  Along with such harbours as Dover, Hastings, and Hythe, Sandwich was protected by the crown, exempted from some taxes and fees, in exchange for performing official services, such as the provision of ships for the king.

The organization continues in a ceremonial format to this day. We'll encounter the Cinque Ports when we talk soon of nearby Walmer Castle. Though Sandwich's harbor was once on the English Channel, today the silted up harbour means it is two miles inland, joined to the sea by channels and the River Stour.

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Across from the quay stands the Fisher Tower, dating from 1384, the only one of original gates in the town's walls to survive. It is constructed of bricks and the kind of flinty stone so common in this region of Kent.

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Nearby is the much-remodeled Barbican, formerly the toll house for the bridge over the Stour.

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As we wandered the crooked streets and gazed at the old houses, our guide told us the town is now very prosperous.  A nearby pharmaceutical company provides many good jobs. Two championship golf courses and the easy access to the sea make Sandwich a very desirable place to live and a sought-after weekend retreat for wealthy Londoners.

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The old houses and hidden gardens are popular and pricey. Sandwich is another of those when-I-win-the-lottery places!

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I can't tell you how tempted I was to try and climb up to peek over.

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Seems like there were a lot of these garden walls...this one of more of that flinty stone.

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Above and below, up close and personal...
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This wall encloses a famous secret garden...and a mansion designed by Sir Edward Lutyens in 1912.

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It is now part of the complex  known as The Salutation, which provides luxury accommodations and has a tea room within the gardens designed by Gertrude Jekyll in the early 20th century.

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Sandwich has been in the sports headlines recently as the site of the 2011 British Open Golf Tournament, held at the Royal St. Georges Golf Club (website here).  More than a dozen British Opens have been held here.

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Our quick tour of Sandwich only whetted my appetite for more, but I was eager to go a few miles back toward Dover, through the town of Deal to Walmer Castle...next.

The Hedgehog Factor

Victoria , here.  Was it my childhood love for Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle?

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Or just because they are so darn cute?

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 Whatever the reason, I love hedgehogs, and over the years, I have collected quite a few. Not real ones, of course. Real ones are increasingly endangered, while those on my shelves are sitting pretty.

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Maybe one of the sources of my love for hedgehogs comes from my admiration for the British hedgerow, which gives the countryside so much character. Yet, these are also in danger.


[image error] picture from the NLS: National Hedgelaying SocietyI was quite appalled at reading -- in a recent issue of Country Life  -- about the urgency of the need for protecting hedgehog habitats in Britain and developing new ones, perhaps in urban gardens.  As usual with vanishing wildlife, we have met the culprit, and he is us, encroaching humans and our urge to pave over everything.  Along with loss of habitat, cars and pesticides endanger hedgehogs.

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The source for  more information is here.   Hedgehogs are not native to North America, which makes them all the more interesting -- and a bit exotic.

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As I was surfing the internet, I found several websites offering hedgehogs as pets.  Though I know some people like to tame wild animals, I am not so sure that living in a cage would be very comfortable for a hedgehog. On the other hand, keeping one in the garden might be quite fun. Actually a pair might be more agreeable to the little creatures.

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As an example of ideal adaptation, I cannot imagine anything better than a hedgehog.  They eat insects and small animals such as frogs, as well as vegetation.  Once I played with a baby hedgehog in Greece, feeding it bits of lettuce and tomato. But generally, hedgehogs are nocturnal, so if you want them around in the daytime, I highly recommend the kind I collect: made of wood, ceramic, brass, or fabric. 

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Whatever the material, they always make me smile.

Travels with Victoria: Arriving in Dover

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Sunrise over the English Channel on June 3, 2011.  I didn't notice any bluebirds, but I definitely could not miss the white cliffs! And Dover Castle at the top.

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Here's a closer view of the Castle -- which has been in use for more than 900 years, from the time of  Henry II to the present day. And pre-Roman earthworks have been found, making the use of the channel bluff for defense more than 2,000 years old - or more. It has been a continuing process of adaptation and rebuilding, and it's not over yet.
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Currently tourists are invited to tour the World War II secret tunnels, including protected command centers deep under the surface.  Below, reversing the perspective, from the castle to the harbour.

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Dover, beyond the castle, is a busy port with ferries arriving and departing almost every hour of the day. From Dover to Calais (and vice versa) is still a popular route, even since the opening of the chunnel and the Eurostar rail service to Paris and Brussels. Along the harbour, the promenade is often full of strollers , sailors, sun bathers and tourists.
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Our hotel was across the street from this promenade, and had a lovely outdoor cafe perfect for watching the passing scene.
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If you watched the recent repeat of the Poirot episode entitled The Clocks (2009), you would have a very good view of Dover Castle and the promenade, but the residential street in the film was actually in London.

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[image error] Above, scenes  from The Clocks, by Agatha ChristieWe also walked around the town (found an excellent pub, not to our surprise) and toured the Roman Painted House, excavated in the center of Dover, with continuing explorations going on today. It boasts the finest painted frescoes in Britain from the Roman period. Below, an overview of the site, and below that, one of the frescoes.
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From Dover, we visited the charming town of Sandwich and nearby Walmer Castle, at which the Duke of Wellington died in 1852. Next in the series...

Singing Bird Automaton Pistols

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Watch this video and prepare to be amazed.

Travels with Victoria: Monet's Garden at Giverny

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The rose trees stand in front of Claude Monet's pink house with green shutters at Giverny on the Seine. Here is the website of the Foundation Claude Monet for more details about the house and gardens.

I haven't exactly formulated a Bucket List of things I MUST do, but visiting Monet's home would definitely have been included.  I grew up loving all the Monet works in the Chicago Art Institute and loving all the stories about how the Impressionists were shunned by the Art World at first and then triumphed by becoming so popular in the 20th (and 21st) centuries that their work is almost considered low-brow all over again!  It's that old saw: (over) familiarity breeds contempt, I guess.

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Claude Monet (1840-1926) began living at Giverny in 1883, eventually purchasing the property and devoting himself to cultivating his garden and painting it for almost 43 years.  He was one of the founders of the movement known as Impressionism, and his works can be found in almost all major (and many minor) art museums in the world.  When they come on the market, they are sold for millions of dollars, pounds or euros.

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While on board the ship, I read Claude and Camille by Stephanie Cowell, an engaging novel about Monet's first love. It fit in perfectly with this visit to the house where he lived with Camille's sons and his second wife who had a large family herself.

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Though I tried to cut from my pictures as many of the visitors as I could, I thought it was quite crowded on the day we visited, but guides assured us that it was actually a slow day.  Particularly as we negotiated the rooms inside the house, it seemed packed.

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No pictures were allowed inside, but I did follow many others in sneaking a shot out the window at the garden from above.  This website reveals all and will lead you to many more accounts and pictures of Monet's life, his paintings, and his garden.

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Monet was obsessed with the play of light on his subjects. He painted the same or similar scenes over and over in various light and weather conditions: haystacks, cathedral facades, landscapes, and of course, his garden.

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As of June 1, 2011, an Englishman called James Priest took over as head gardener.  His background includes training at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, and many years working with Gilbert Vahe, who rescued and redeveloped Monet's Giverny gardens. 

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The garden is divided by the road through the village, and the two halves -- one near the house and the other mainly the pond -- are joined by a walkway under the now-busy road.

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Perhaps Monet's most famous paintings are those he did of this pond and its waterlilies. 
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The pond is much larger than I expected, with more than one little Japanese bridge -- at least today.

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The version of Water Lilies he painted in 1916, below, hangs in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.


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And below, my photo of the water lilies in the pond on June 1, 2011.

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Below, another painting, from 1904

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 Can you tell the difference?  And, just for good measure, here are a two more of my pond photos...

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Thank you, Claude Monet, for bringing so much pleasure to so many people.  Perhaps I will revisit Monet and take a look at the many paintings he did in England someday.
This is next to the last of my posts from our cruise.  After returning to the English Channel from the Seine, we crossed to Dover....soon.

RWA in New York

Victoria here, with my report on the Romance Writers of America Conference in New York City, June 29 to July 1, 2011, at the Marriott Marquis Hotel on Times Square.  I attended soon after returning from my European adventures so I was definitely in the early-to-bed group and probably missed half the excitement. Below, the statue of George M. Cohan, one of the fathers of the Broadway musical.
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Before the official start of the conference, my roommate and travel buddy, Judith Laik, and I took in the Frick Museum at 90th and Fifth Avenue.

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Their pretty gardens were full of scaffolding, sad to say. But a few roses clung to the fence on Fifth.

[image error] This building was the residence of the Henry Clay Frick (1849 -1919) family from its completion in 1912 to the point at which it was turned into a museum for his collection of old masters. Some additional construction was needed but part of the very nice atmosphere there is the feeling that you're in a home - just like your very own nest, of course.  Don't we all have Vermeers, Gainsboroughs and Rembrandts on our walls and priceless ceramics on precious antique tables? 
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One must acknowledge that Frick was a notorious robber baron, but that makes his little gem in Manhattan no less delightful to visit.
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After the opening luncheon, I moderated a workshop given by Jennifer Kloester (left) and Sabrina Jeffries entitled "Keeping it Real: Regency Research Georgette Heyer Could Believe In." Jennifer is the author of Georgette Heyer's Regency World and has a biography of GH coming out soon.   Sabrina has written more than two dozen novels, most set in the late Georgian period.
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After an afternoon of meetings, we went out to catch a breath of fresh (?) air, and saw the rays of the lowering sun gild the Chrysler Building a few blocks away.

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Sunset over the Hudson River from our room on the 22nd floor.

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I managed to fit in a quick trip to the New York Public Library where I never fail to find an engaging snippet of knowledge in a brief visit.  Sometime I'll spend an entire day there.  How about a month?

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The noble beasts always get my respect.  Are they the guardians of all knowledge - or symbolic of the majesty of the contents behind them?  In case it looks like I spent most of my time flitting about the city, let it be known that I worked two full mornings as a volunteer at the editor-agent appointments desk, attended several workshops and PAN (Published Author Network) sessions and many other activities. And I spent a bundle on taxis.


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Before the RITA ceremonies on Friday night, Judith and I browsed through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We could hardly do more than scratch the surface, but it was wonderful.

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We found the British period rooms temporarily closed off, to our disappointment. As devotees of the Regency, we had looked forward to visiting a little bit of London in NYC. But in the American Wing, we found the colonial and federal period rooms almost as useful for our research.
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For example, this sideboard was made in New York City about 1812 by French emigre cabinet maker
Charles Honore Lannuier (1779-1819) of flame-grain mahogany veneers. Shown on top are decanters, flutes, and wineglasses, most of them made in Pennsylvania and New York.

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This table was made in Philadelphia, c. 1830, of mahogany, marble and brass by another French emigre, Anthony Quervelle (1789-1856). He also made tables for the East Room of the White House. The side chairs are attributed to the Baltimore workshop of John and Hugh Findlay, c. 1815-25.

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Elsewhere in the Met, we stumbled upon Napoleon, in the form of a tapestry in wool, silk and metal thread, in its original pine frame. It is based on a 1805 portrait by Francois Gerard (1770-1837) of the emperor in his coronation robes. Woven in the workshop of Michel Henri Cozette (1744-1822) in the Gobelins Manufactory, 1808-11.

At last we found the British paintings -- works by Reynolds, Gainsborough, Raeburn, Hoppner, Lawrence, and many more of our favorites.  Below, three examples.

[image error] John Hoppner (1758-1810): Mrs. Richard Brinsley Sheridan and Her Son
[image error] Thomas Gainsborough (1728-1788): Mrs. Grace Dalrymple Elliott
[image error] Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792): Captain George  K. H. Coussmaker
Judith and I hustled back to the hotel for the awards ceremony which presented Ritas for published novels and Golden Hearts for unpublished manuscripts, sort of the Oscars for romance writers.

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[image error]   The hustle and bustle was over for another year.  Several thousand women -- and some men too -- had a lot of sleep to catch up on.

Travels with Victoria: Rouen, France

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Cruising the Seine -- can you think of a more beautiful place to be on a warm sunny day at the end of May? Our ship navigated the broad mouth of the river and about 75 miles of curving river from the English Channel to Rouen past an idyllic countryside of neat farms, lush fields and contented cattle, past villas and villages.

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Approaching the Pont Gustave Flaubert; the vertical lift bridge across the Seine at Rouen opened in 2008. At the right is the distant steeple of the cathedral (see below). 

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A passing River Cruise ship, which can fit under the bridges; we saw many of these vessels which can go at least as far up river as Paris.

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Rouen being the principal city of Haute-Normandie, one might expect the half-timbered buildings -- and there were plenty of them.  This one houses a Monprix, part of a large French chain, roughly comparable to Target in the U.S.

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One of the city's more famous sights is the Gross Horologe, an astronomical clock.  It reminds me that we found a McDonald's nearby, which we were looking for to use their worldwide free wi-fi.  In the several French McDs at which we stopped, a separate coffee bar served excellent cafe au lait. Nice sipping while we caught up on e-mail.  But that brings up another question: How come ships and hotels so often charge exorbitant rates for their internet access?  And then are so slow it costs a bundle just to read a few messages -- while good ol' Mickey D's has good wi-fi service (most places) free, whether or not you buy a Big Mac?

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Rouen's Notre Dame Cathedral (above) was damaged and almost half of the city was destroyed by allied bombing attacks during World War II.  Restoration is complete, but constant renovation and repairs are needed to keep the oldest parts of the structure, dating from the 12th century, intact.

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The cathedral houses a tomb of Richard Coeur de Lion (the LionHeart) who lived from 1157-1199. Richard was King of England and Duke of Normandy; his heart is buried here though other remains are buried elsewhere.

Joan of Arc was tried and executed by burning at the stake in Rouen in 1431, not a claim to fame that is celebrated in the city.

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Here is a cheerier note, taken at a flower vendor's colorful corner.

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Claude Monet painted the facade of the Cathedral over and over in varying light and weather conditions.

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One of Monet's paintings of the cathedral on a misty day hangs in the Musee des Beaux-Arts de Rouen.

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The above view of the Rouen Cathedral in full sunlight (1894) by Claude Monet belongs to the Musee d'Orsay, Paris.

[image error]                                           The Courtyard restaurant of the Rouen Art Museum.
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Coming soon: Visiting Monet's Garden at Giverny

The Brewer's Horse

From The Horse-World of London by William John Gordon (1893)


The brewer's horse is a splendid animal, the most powerful as a rule of London's heavy brigade. At the Cart-horse Parade, in which teams of all classes compete, the first, second, and third prizes were taken for the only two years in which they entered by Messrs. Courage, whose cast horses are generally sold for an average of 321. each, one of them having fetched fifty-one guineas, the highest price ever obtained for a horse cleared out of a stud as being past the work of the trade in which he made his first appearance in town. In fact, there is no stud in the kingdom of higher level excellence than that under Mr. Laird's care at Horselydown, which is saying much, considering that the 3,000 horses owned by the larger London brewers are worth at the very lowest estimate 90L apiece.
A barrel of beer weighs 4 cwt.; a brewer's van carries 25 barrels, which means 5 tons; the van itself weighs not less than 35 cwt., some of them weigh over 2 tons; the harness weighs three quarters of a hundredweight; the men weigh—what? It is a delicate question. To answer it Mr. Laird weighed a drayman for us, a fine young man in his twenty-ninth year, he weighed 20 st. 10 lbs.! And the horse he drove, a five-year-old gelding standing 17*2 and still growing, was then put on the scale, and dipped the beam at just over the ton.
But this is hardly a fair average. Let us throw the men in with the sundries, and say these tremendous horses have to draw 8 tons; and this is for three horses worked unicorn fashion, two at the pole and one as leader. According to one horse-keeper, who had been twenty-seven years in his position, it now takes three horses to do the work that four did twenty years ago. 'The vans have improved, the roads have improved, and the horses have improved, especially the horses'; but this is not the usual opinion, for even with the brewer's horse the laudation of the past is the consolation of the many.

On most of these horses there is not a pound of superfluous flesh. They are working regularly every week-day, doing often their fourteen hours a day, sometimes doing sixteen hours, resting on Sundays, and having a light load on Monday, which is the brewer's dull day; out at five o'clock in the morning, back into stable at seven at night; averaging six years of work; and then, in many cases, realising over 201. under the hammer when cleared out to make way for the newcomers,
Most of those under notice to quit look little the worse for wear, although perhaps their legs may have come over a little with the draught, which in the suburbs is severe, the load being no light one to drag over a hilly track at the brewer's walking rate of five miles an hour easy. But it does not do for a team to have a weak horse, unless, maybe, the leader, who can shirk now and then if he chooses, for the rate of the slowest is ever the rate of progress; hence horses are worked together only so long as they work equally, and the weak one is rejected immediately he is found out, lest he should demoralise his companions.


There is a prevalent notion that hairy-legged horses stand heavy work better than others, but the value is not in the hair, but in the stout bone it should cover. One of Courage's best horses is a Clydesdale, with his fore legs so fine, because fleshless and so thinly-haired, that the question has been asked if it was intended 'to go racing with that animal'; but Clydesdales, though now improving every year, do not run quite heavy enough for brewers' work, and nearly all the horses are shires. Some brewers—Barclay & Perkins, for instance —have nothing but shires in their stables; and this particular stud, a singularly fine one, averages seven and a half years of brewery life.



Of course all the brewers do not work their horses on the same system. Hoare's, by way of example, work their 160 horses only five days a week, and no horse is allowed to be out more than ten hours without being examined by the horse-keeper. Their horses are bought at six years old and cleared out on the average at twelve, which is as soon as they show the least sign of decay; and there is not a horse in their stud weighing under 16 cwt. or standing under 17 hands, which compares rather awkwardly for the antiquarians with the 14 'handfuls' which Henry VIII. fixed as the minimum of stallions in 1535. A range of twelve inches, unless the horses were of very different classes, seems too wide to be true. The thoroughbred racehorse increases a hand in height every century; in 1700 ho stood 13-2, he now stands 15-2; and it certainly looks as though the heavy horse had also grown a little.
It is noteworthy that these big horses should so very seldom have bad tempers; they are almost as intelligent as dogs, and quite as amiable. They are in rude health, it is true, and that may account for their being comfortable and pleased with themselves, more especially as they are kept hard at regular work, but it is scarcely enough to answer for their peculiar placidity under all circumstances.
The one great secret of keeping them in condition is attention to their feet. There is no animal more carefully shod than a brewer's horse. Many of them have a different make and shape of shoe on each hoof. At Courage's, for instance, no such things as standard sizes are known; the shoe is always made specially to fit the foot, and the shoes are never thrown away, but are mended—soled and heeled, in fact—by having pieces of iron welded into them again and again as they are worn. Some of the shoes are steel-faced; some are barred, the shoe going all round the foot; some have heels, some have toes; some have one clip, some have two; in fact, there are almost as many makes of shoe as there are in a Northampton factory.

Travels with Victoria: Mont St.Michel

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This view of Mont St. Michel (website) is such an iconic image, I truly feared that visiting would be rather anti-climactic.  Like seeing Big Ben or the Parthenon or the Grand Canyon, however, it was a new and fresh experience.  Well, yes there were hundreds of tourist buses and hordes of people from all over the world climbing the steep streets and filling the many shops and restaurants along the way.


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And, dear reader, I did not make it to the top. Not even close! It was the worst day of my dreadful cold and though it may not look steep in the picture above, it exhausted my clogged lungs in no time at all.  I managed to find a lovely viewpoint from which I snapped the top -- and the low tidal sands that stretch for miles all around the island.

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Those coming down to join us in a cup of latte said it was quite lovely at the top, a monastery that is mostly empty other than hundreds of gapers.  The monks of the early 11th century suported William of Normandy in his conquest of England. In return, the order received an island off Cornwall, also known as St Michel's Mount, which also draws many tourists.

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In reviewing my photos, I am amused to see that I managed to exclude almost all the tourists. You'll have to take my word for it -- huge groups going up and coming down, narrow streets in which it seemed one could lose balance and tumble for ages if one wasn't very careful. With all those people, one would have taken out a regiment on the fall.

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Above, a couple of visitors try to get out of the way of the little front-end-loaders they use to take supplies up and bring the trash down.  After the French Revolution, the Mont was abandoned, then turned into a prison.  In the mid-19th century, many French intellectuals, including Victor Hugo, petitioned the government to return Mont St. Michel to its original purpose as a pilgrimage site. Would I be too cynical if I said that most of the 'pilgrims' seemed to be more interested in taking photos (like me) or buying souvenirs than any spiritual purpose?


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Restaurants on the Mont are famous for their fluffy omelets.  But not a chicken in sight.


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After it was all over, we posed with the Mont and a few of the coaches that filled the car park -- next to a sign that said, loosely translated, "This parking lot will not flood today."  The site is famous for its rapidly shifting tides and until the soon-to-be-rebuilt causeway was created, it was not unusual for people to be stranded on the Mont.

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As we drove back to St. Malo, the Mont was always there, a sort of brooding presence in the mist.

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