Showing posts with label Downton Abbey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Downton Abbey. Show all posts
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Friday Video: Edwardian Fundraising Takes to the Streets, 1912
Susan reporting:
This brief silent film will be a special treat to all of you who've recently "discovered" the Edwardian era through Downton Abbey. Alexandra Rose Day was created in 1912 to mark the 50th anniversary of the arrival to England of Princess Alexandra of Denmark to marry the future King Edward VII. Much like last year's royal wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, this 1863 wedding was a national celebration that helped make Alexandra into a much-admired figure. Fifty years later, as a widow and dowager queen, she chose to commemorate the anniversary not with a grand, costly procession, but with a fundraising drive to benefit the poor and needy. Artificial roses, made by the disabled, were offered and sold by women volunteers in the London streets. The event was an enormous success, raising the modern equivalent of £2 million for the city's hospitals. The event continues today; click here for more information.
This film clip follows a group of those first volunteers into the streets of the Peckham district of London in 1912, and it's clear that the public is enchanted by these mostly-young ladies dressed in white with their baskets of roses. The quality of the clip is amazingly good, offering a glimpse not only of Edwardian dress (oh, those hats!), but also transportation, shops, and street-life. I was also struck by how good-natured everyone seems to be on this day, smiling and laughing at the camera and with the volunteers. Watching this, it's hard to believe that the devastating nightmare of the First World War is only two years away.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Mavisbank, a Tragically Neglected 18th c Country House
Susan reporting:
For many of us American history-nerds, the great British country houses seem to exist in an almost supernatural state of romantic perfection. They're the idealized places we imagine in Jane Austen's novels and see as backgrounds in films (among them: Brideshead Revisited, The Duchess, Pride and Prejudice, The Go-Between.) As an art history major in college, I sat in darkened classrooms and gazed in awe at slides of Palladio-inspired majesty, nestled in flawless green landscapes.
But reality is often not so kind. Taxes, war, changing societies, and shifting family fortunes all take their toll. Even houses made of stone become vulnerable over time (see Highclere Castle, playing the namesake of Downton Abbey.) Nowhere is this more tragically evident than at Mavisbank, a once-grand country house south of Edinburgh in Midlothian, Scotland.
Built in 1723-1727, Mavisbank, above, was one of those rare collaborations between the foremost architect of the day in William Adam and an artistic, appreciative client in Sir John Clerk. The magnificent house, grounds, and gardens (the painted view, right, features the canal that pointed towards the house) they created was the first Palladian-inspired villa built in the north, and instantly became known as one of Scotland's most important and beautiful country houses.
Yet by 1815, the house had already passed from the Clerk family, and in 1876 the once-elegant house became a lunatic asylum. For the next 70 years, insensitive renovations and additions further eroded the building's beauty. The famous gardens and surrounding fields went untended. Although the house was no longer used as a hospital, its last private owner was perhaps the most abusive of all, letting Mavisbank become a tattered haven for squatters and trailers, its front court used as an automobile junkyard, left.
A devastating fire in 1973 gutted the interiors and destroyed the roof. Threatened with demolition, emergency stabilization offered a temporary respite while preservationists fought to save what remained of the house. In 2008, Mavisbank was included on the World Monument Fund's list of the 100 most endangered historical sites in the world, increasing interest in preserving the site.
Mavisbank's salvation finally seems assured. Last month, the sale of the house was finally arranged by the Midlothian Council, which planned to transfer the house to its own preservation trust. What exactly will happen next, however, still remains undecided. Should the shell be further stabilized, but left in its romantic, derelict state, or should the goal be a complete restoration, a recreation of what Mavisbank once was? This video slideshow of Mavisbank as it stands at present shows how monumental (and costly) either task will be. What do you think Marisbank's future should be?
Top: Mavisbank House, Midlothia, Scotland, drawing by William Adam, from Vitruvius Scoticus (1812)
Below: Mavisbank House, Midlothian, Scottland. Photograph from National Monuments Record Scotland courtesy of RCAHMS.
For many of us American history-nerds, the great British country houses seem to exist in an almost supernatural state of romantic perfection. They're the idealized places we imagine in Jane Austen's novels and see as backgrounds in films (among them: Brideshead Revisited, The Duchess, Pride and Prejudice, The Go-Between.) As an art history major in college, I sat in darkened classrooms and gazed in awe at slides of Palladio-inspired majesty, nestled in flawless green landscapes.
But reality is often not so kind. Taxes, war, changing societies, and shifting family fortunes all take their toll. Even houses made of stone become vulnerable over time (see Highclere Castle, playing the namesake of Downton Abbey.) Nowhere is this more tragically evident than at Mavisbank, a once-grand country house south of Edinburgh in Midlothian, Scotland.
Built in 1723-1727, Mavisbank, above, was one of those rare collaborations between the foremost architect of the day in William Adam and an artistic, appreciative client in Sir John Clerk. The magnificent house, grounds, and gardens (the painted view, right, features the canal that pointed towards the house) they created was the first Palladian-inspired villa built in the north, and instantly became known as one of Scotland's most important and beautiful country houses.
Yet by 1815, the house had already passed from the Clerk family, and in 1876 the once-elegant house became a lunatic asylum. For the next 70 years, insensitive renovations and additions further eroded the building's beauty. The famous gardens and surrounding fields went untended. Although the house was no longer used as a hospital, its last private owner was perhaps the most abusive of all, letting Mavisbank become a tattered haven for squatters and trailers, its front court used as an automobile junkyard, left.
A devastating fire in 1973 gutted the interiors and destroyed the roof. Threatened with demolition, emergency stabilization offered a temporary respite while preservationists fought to save what remained of the house. In 2008, Mavisbank was included on the World Monument Fund's list of the 100 most endangered historical sites in the world, increasing interest in preserving the site.
Mavisbank's salvation finally seems assured. Last month, the sale of the house was finally arranged by the Midlothian Council, which planned to transfer the house to its own preservation trust. What exactly will happen next, however, still remains undecided. Should the shell be further stabilized, but left in its romantic, derelict state, or should the goal be a complete restoration, a recreation of what Mavisbank once was? This video slideshow of Mavisbank as it stands at present shows how monumental (and costly) either task will be. What do you think Marisbank's future should be?
Top: Mavisbank House, Midlothia, Scotland, drawing by William Adam, from Vitruvius Scoticus (1812)
Below: Mavisbank House, Midlothian, Scottland. Photograph from National Monuments Record Scotland courtesy of RCAHMS.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
It's Time Again for 'Downton Abbey' - The Silly Video Version, That Is
Susan reporting:
While the second season of Downton Abbey, the immensely popular PBS dramatic series, won't be shown in the US until January, it has already made its debut in the UK, and viewers there are happily engrossed. Spoilers, too, are already all over the internet – but we promise you won't find a single one in this video sketch, created as a fundraiser for the BBC's Red Nose Day. What you will find in it, however, are some very familiar faces in very different roles. Look for Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley (still Absolutely Fabulous), Harry Enfield, Victoria Wood, and is that really Kim Cattrall as the countess? Even screenwriter-novelist Julian Fellowes makes an appearance. And if this isn't enough, there's a second part, too, here.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Intrepid Women: Lady Harriet Acland
Susan reporting:
One of the best parts of this blog for us is how we have the chance to "meet" readers around the world. Recently we were contacted by Gwen Yarker, a fellow Nerdy History Girl at heart, who is also exhibition curator of the Dorset County Museum, Dorchester.
The museum is currently hosting an exhibition of 70 extraordinary portraits called Georgian Faces: Portrait of a County. Included in the exhibition will be works by Sir Joshua Reynolds, George Romney, William Hogarth, and many others. Since most of our readers (including us, alas) won't be able to travel to Dorset, Gwen generously offered to share one of the paintings from the exhibition with us.
The charming portrait, left, shows Lady Elizabeth Fox-Strangways (1773-1844), eldest daughter of the 2nd Earl of Ilchester, standing beside her older cousin, Elizabeth Kitty Acland (1772-1813), known as Kitty. The picture is representative of the new fashion for representing children as children, informally and comfortably dressed, rather than as stiff-laced, miniature adults. They probably sat for Dorset-born artist Thomas Beach (1738-1806) in 1777, at the Ilchesters' family home Redlynch, in Somerset. During this period, the Ilchesters were caring for Kitty while her parents were away in North America.
Kitty was the only daughter of Major John Dyke Acland, 7th Baronet. (1746-1778) and Lady (Christian) Harriet Caroline Fox-Strangways Acland (1749-1815), and it is Lady Harriet who is our Intrepid Woman. Colonel Acland was a major in the 20th foot, fighting in the American War of Independence. Unwilling to be left behind in England, Lady Harriet sailed to join her husband with her mother, a valet, lady's maid, and a dog. Obviously Lady Harriet was no ordinary camp wife; as she followed her husband's expeditions, she kept a detailed diary recording her impressions of the American landscape and native customs that was later published.
But Lady Harriet is best remembered today for her role in a far more dramatic event. In October 1777, Colonel Acland was badly wounded and taken prisoner by the Americans at the second Battle of Saratoga (Bemis Heights.) At once the pregnant Lady Harriet decided to go to him. Accompanied by her maid, a military chaplain, and Acland's valet, she crossed the Hudson River in an open boat and made her way into enemy territory. While there are varying accounts of her night-time crossing, all agree that she was treated courteously by American General Horatio Gates, and permitted to join her husband in captivity to nurse him. The Aclands were released and allowed to return to England (and to their daughter Kitty) in January, 1778, with Lady Harriet still nursing her convalescing husband. Their son John was born on the voyage.
After such perilous adventure, Lady Harriet and Colonel Acland deserved a long and happy life together. Unfortunately, Colonel Acland died later in 1778 from complications after a duel – fought in defense of the American cause.
The dramatic story of Lady Harriet's loyalty and courage made her a much-praised heroine to 18th c. England. Artist Robert Pollard painted his version of her river crossing (right), which he later turned into a popular print. We're guessing that, in real life, the intrepid Lady Harriet and her little party had enough sense not to stand upright with a too-large flag in a too-small boat to challenge the enemy's armed sentries.
Georgian Faces: Portrait of a County continues through 30 April 2011. If you're fortunate enough to be able to visit, here is more information about the show. Many thanks to Gwen Yarker for all her assistance with this post!
(And as a minor note, proving once again that everything in history really is linked together: Kitty Acland married Henry George Herbert, 2nd Earl of Carnarvon, in 1796. Their son, the 3rd Earl, is responsible for building the family's country house, Highclere Castle – the grand house that stars in the PBS series, Downton Abbey.)
Above left: Lady Elizabeth Theresa Fox-Strangways and Elizabeth Kitty Acland, by Thomas Beach (1738-1806) oil on canvas, 1777. Private collection. Photograph courtesy of Dorset County Museum.
Above right: Lady Harriet Ackland, intaglio print, drawn & engraved by Robert Pollard, London, 1784, Library of Congress.
One of the best parts of this blog for us is how we have the chance to "meet" readers around the world. Recently we were contacted by Gwen Yarker, a fellow Nerdy History Girl at heart, who is also exhibition curator of the Dorset County Museum, Dorchester.
The museum is currently hosting an exhibition of 70 extraordinary portraits called Georgian Faces: Portrait of a County. Included in the exhibition will be works by Sir Joshua Reynolds, George Romney, William Hogarth, and many others. Since most of our readers (including us, alas) won't be able to travel to Dorset, Gwen generously offered to share one of the paintings from the exhibition with us.
The charming portrait, left, shows Lady Elizabeth Fox-Strangways (1773-1844), eldest daughter of the 2nd Earl of Ilchester, standing beside her older cousin, Elizabeth Kitty Acland (1772-1813), known as Kitty. The picture is representative of the new fashion for representing children as children, informally and comfortably dressed, rather than as stiff-laced, miniature adults. They probably sat for Dorset-born artist Thomas Beach (1738-1806) in 1777, at the Ilchesters' family home Redlynch, in Somerset. During this period, the Ilchesters were caring for Kitty while her parents were away in North America.
Kitty was the only daughter of Major John Dyke Acland, 7th Baronet. (1746-1778) and Lady (Christian) Harriet Caroline Fox-Strangways Acland (1749-1815), and it is Lady Harriet who is our Intrepid Woman. Colonel Acland was a major in the 20th foot, fighting in the American War of Independence. Unwilling to be left behind in England, Lady Harriet sailed to join her husband with her mother, a valet, lady's maid, and a dog. Obviously Lady Harriet was no ordinary camp wife; as she followed her husband's expeditions, she kept a detailed diary recording her impressions of the American landscape and native customs that was later published.
But Lady Harriet is best remembered today for her role in a far more dramatic event. In October 1777, Colonel Acland was badly wounded and taken prisoner by the Americans at the second Battle of Saratoga (Bemis Heights.) At once the pregnant Lady Harriet decided to go to him. Accompanied by her maid, a military chaplain, and Acland's valet, she crossed the Hudson River in an open boat and made her way into enemy territory. While there are varying accounts of her night-time crossing, all agree that she was treated courteously by American General Horatio Gates, and permitted to join her husband in captivity to nurse him. The Aclands were released and allowed to return to England (and to their daughter Kitty) in January, 1778, with Lady Harriet still nursing her convalescing husband. Their son John was born on the voyage.
After such perilous adventure, Lady Harriet and Colonel Acland deserved a long and happy life together. Unfortunately, Colonel Acland died later in 1778 from complications after a duel – fought in defense of the American cause.
The dramatic story of Lady Harriet's loyalty and courage made her a much-praised heroine to 18th c. England. Artist Robert Pollard painted his version of her river crossing (right), which he later turned into a popular print. We're guessing that, in real life, the intrepid Lady Harriet and her little party had enough sense not to stand upright with a too-large flag in a too-small boat to challenge the enemy's armed sentries.
Georgian Faces: Portrait of a County continues through 30 April 2011. If you're fortunate enough to be able to visit, here is more information about the show. Many thanks to Gwen Yarker for all her assistance with this post!
(And as a minor note, proving once again that everything in history really is linked together: Kitty Acland married Henry George Herbert, 2nd Earl of Carnarvon, in 1796. Their son, the 3rd Earl, is responsible for building the family's country house, Highclere Castle – the grand house that stars in the PBS series, Downton Abbey.)
Above left: Lady Elizabeth Theresa Fox-Strangways and Elizabeth Kitty Acland, by Thomas Beach (1738-1806) oil on canvas, 1777. Private collection. Photograph courtesy of Dorset County Museum.
Above right: Lady Harriet Ackland, intaglio print, drawn & engraved by Robert Pollard, London, 1784, Library of Congress.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Intrepid Women: Helen Vincent, Viscountess D'Abernon
Susan reporting:
I've always been intrigued by the elegant fin-de-siecle portraits of John Singer Sargent (1856-1925. While it's easy to dismiss his sitters as empty Edwardian society ladies, not all of them fall into this category. One of the most beautiful was also one of the more interesting: Helen Venetia Duncombe Vincent, Vicountess D'Abernon (1866-1954).
Daughter of the Earl of Feversham, Helen's beauty was extraordinary, and when she married the equally handsome financier and diplomat Sir Edgar Vincent (1857-1941) in 1890, she soon became a celebrated London hostess. To some she was "by reason of her outstanding beauty, intelligence and charm, one of the most resplendent figures" of her age; a far less flattering description by architect Edwin Lutyens called her "a lovely Easter egg with nothing inside, terribly dilettante and altogether superficial."
The truth must have been somewhere in between. As Sir Edgar rose both in the financial world as an international banker and as an ambassador in diplomatic corps, Helen helped further his position by serving as his hostess and as a patroness to English artists and museums. She also welcomed the leading intellectual figures to her salon, including American writers Henry James and Edith Wharton and prominent statesmen George Curzon and Arthur Balfour. She was also drawn to the romantic history of her namesake Venice, and at her urging the Vincents purchased the Palazzo Giustiniani on the Grand Canal. It was here, during an extended visit, that Sargent painted the bravura portrait, above left, in 1904, and made the sketch, right. As isn't always the case, the beauty in the portraits was real, as seen in the stylish photograph of Helen from 1906, lower right.
But when the glory days of Edwardian England collapsed with the onset of the First World War, Helen didn't retreat to the safety of her country estates. Instead she took the unusual step for an aristocratic lady of training as a nurse anaesthetist (anesthesiologist), and served with the Red Cross in Europe, often in risky makeshift circumstances close to the front. She acquired a reputation as the fearless, unflinching lady in the operating room, and treated thousands of patients.
Although she returned to civilian life at Sir Edgar's side after the war, traveling with him through Germany while he was the British Ambassador to the Weimar Republic, it was her own wartime contribution that she believed was her greatest personal accomplishment. In 1946, she published a book of her experiences drawn from her diary, Red Cross and Berlin Embassy, 1915-1926: Extracts from the Diaries of Viscountess D'Abernon.
Fascinating reading!
(A random note: As I watched the last episode of this season's Downton Abbey on PBS with its cliff-hanger with the coming war, I wondered if the screenwriters for next season were already reading Lady Helen's diary. I suppose we'll know if Lady Diana turns up as a nurse anaesthetist in France with the Red Cross!)
Above left: Lady Helen Vincent, Viscountess D'Abernon, John Singer Sargent, 1904, Birmingham Museum of Art
Right: Lady Helen Vincent, John Singer Sargent, 1905, York City Art Gallery
Lower left: Lady Helen Vincent, photograph by Lionel de Rothschild, c. 1906, copyright Solent News & Photo Agency
I've always been intrigued by the elegant fin-de-siecle portraits of John Singer Sargent (1856-1925. While it's easy to dismiss his sitters as empty Edwardian society ladies, not all of them fall into this category. One of the most beautiful was also one of the more interesting: Helen Venetia Duncombe Vincent, Vicountess D'Abernon (1866-1954).
Daughter of the Earl of Feversham, Helen's beauty was extraordinary, and when she married the equally handsome financier and diplomat Sir Edgar Vincent (1857-1941) in 1890, she soon became a celebrated London hostess. To some she was "by reason of her outstanding beauty, intelligence and charm, one of the most resplendent figures" of her age; a far less flattering description by architect Edwin Lutyens called her "a lovely Easter egg with nothing inside, terribly dilettante and altogether superficial."
The truth must have been somewhere in between. As Sir Edgar rose both in the financial world as an international banker and as an ambassador in diplomatic corps, Helen helped further his position by serving as his hostess and as a patroness to English artists and museums. She also welcomed the leading intellectual figures to her salon, including American writers Henry James and Edith Wharton and prominent statesmen George Curzon and Arthur Balfour. She was also drawn to the romantic history of her namesake Venice, and at her urging the Vincents purchased the Palazzo Giustiniani on the Grand Canal. It was here, during an extended visit, that Sargent painted the bravura portrait, above left, in 1904, and made the sketch, right. As isn't always the case, the beauty in the portraits was real, as seen in the stylish photograph of Helen from 1906, lower right.
But when the glory days of Edwardian England collapsed with the onset of the First World War, Helen didn't retreat to the safety of her country estates. Instead she took the unusual step for an aristocratic lady of training as a nurse anaesthetist (anesthesiologist), and served with the Red Cross in Europe, often in risky makeshift circumstances close to the front. She acquired a reputation as the fearless, unflinching lady in the operating room, and treated thousands of patients.
Although she returned to civilian life at Sir Edgar's side after the war, traveling with him through Germany while he was the British Ambassador to the Weimar Republic, it was her own wartime contribution that she believed was her greatest personal accomplishment. In 1946, she published a book of her experiences drawn from her diary, Red Cross and Berlin Embassy, 1915-1926: Extracts from the Diaries of Viscountess D'Abernon.
(A random note: As I watched the last episode of this season's Downton Abbey on PBS with its cliff-hanger with the coming war, I wondered if the screenwriters for next season were already reading Lady Helen's diary. I suppose we'll know if Lady Diana turns up as a nurse anaesthetist in France with the Red Cross!)
Above left: Lady Helen Vincent, Viscountess D'Abernon, John Singer Sargent, 1904, Birmingham Museum of Art
Right: Lady Helen Vincent, John Singer Sargent, 1905, York City Art Gallery
Lower left: Lady Helen Vincent, photograph by Lionel de Rothschild, c. 1906, copyright Solent News & Photo Agency
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Playing the Part of Downton Abbey: Highclere Castle
Susan reporting:
With the first two episodes of Downton Abbey now broadcast on Masterpiece Theatre (and also already available on DVD
for the impatient), most American viewers have sorted out the ever-expanding cast and learned who's who. But there's one character that, though without any spoken lines, has appeared in almost every scene: Highclere Castle, the sprawling country house that plays the part of Downton Abbey itself. (Only the scenes in the servants' quarters were filmed on a constructed set.)
The home of the Carnavon family since 1679, the present castle is at least the third house to take advantage of the stunning location, a 6,000 acre estate in rural Berkshire. In 1839, the third Earl of Carnavon hired architect Sir Charles Barry to create a massive new home in the very latest style, known variously as English Renaissance Revival, or High Elizabethan. Barry knew all about grandeur – his most famous project was the Palace of Westminster, aka the Houses of Parliament – and he freely blended elements from architectural history for maximum impact in his design. Neither the third earl nor Sir Charles lived to see the house completed, and it wasn't until 1878, after nearly forty years of construction, that the fourth earl was finally able to declare Highclere Castle finished.
Yet like every noble hero, the Castle has weathered its share of drama. The fifth Earl of Carnavon and archaeologist Howard Carter famously discovered Tutankhamun's Tomb in 1922, and when the earl returned home with a priceless collection of Egyptian treasures, it was whispered that he'd brought the curse of the pharaoh back to Highclere, too. The Castle served as a hospital during World War I, and a home for evacuee children during World War II. More recently, it's become a popular site for destination and celebrity weddings, and has appeared as a setting in other films besides Downton Abbey.
But the economy that could support a massive Victorian estate has long vanished. The Castle's current owners, the eighth Earl and Countess of Carnavon, are open about the challenges facing their home, and the decay is as heartbreaking as it is staggering. (See here for pictures.) This is no simple contractor's trip to Home Depot; estimates for essential repairs are nearly £12 million.
While the fictional Downton Abbey could be rescued through an infusion of money from an American robber-baron's daughter, a modern suitor is much less appealing. Composer Lord Andrew Lloyd-Webber has made an unsolicited offer of £100 million to buy Highclere and convert it into a museum to house his art collection. The Earl and Countess swiftly and pointedly rebuffed him ("We are not selling up to some rich man.") Instead they have applied for permission to develop a small portion of the estate for houses, a request that simultaneously has natural preservationists up in arms, while others with equally decaying historic estates watch closely for a precedent. (More about the controversy here.)
All of which we romantic Americans should probably consider as we watch Downton Abbey and wish we lived in the Castle. Ahh, it's not easy being grand....
See here for Highclere Castle's official website, with more photos, history, and information – including, if you're truly fortunate, arranging a wedding.
With the first two episodes of Downton Abbey now broadcast on Masterpiece Theatre (and also already available on DVD
The home of the Carnavon family since 1679, the present castle is at least the third house to take advantage of the stunning location, a 6,000 acre estate in rural Berkshire. In 1839, the third Earl of Carnavon hired architect Sir Charles Barry to create a massive new home in the very latest style, known variously as English Renaissance Revival, or High Elizabethan. Barry knew all about grandeur – his most famous project was the Palace of Westminster, aka the Houses of Parliament – and he freely blended elements from architectural history for maximum impact in his design. Neither the third earl nor Sir Charles lived to see the house completed, and it wasn't until 1878, after nearly forty years of construction, that the fourth earl was finally able to declare Highclere Castle finished.
Yet like every noble hero, the Castle has weathered its share of drama. The fifth Earl of Carnavon and archaeologist Howard Carter famously discovered Tutankhamun's Tomb in 1922, and when the earl returned home with a priceless collection of Egyptian treasures, it was whispered that he'd brought the curse of the pharaoh back to Highclere, too. The Castle served as a hospital during World War I, and a home for evacuee children during World War II. More recently, it's become a popular site for destination and celebrity weddings, and has appeared as a setting in other films besides Downton Abbey.
But the economy that could support a massive Victorian estate has long vanished. The Castle's current owners, the eighth Earl and Countess of Carnavon, are open about the challenges facing their home, and the decay is as heartbreaking as it is staggering. (See here for pictures.) This is no simple contractor's trip to Home Depot; estimates for essential repairs are nearly £12 million.
While the fictional Downton Abbey could be rescued through an infusion of money from an American robber-baron's daughter, a modern suitor is much less appealing. Composer Lord Andrew Lloyd-Webber has made an unsolicited offer of £100 million to buy Highclere and convert it into a museum to house his art collection. The Earl and Countess swiftly and pointedly rebuffed him ("We are not selling up to some rich man.") Instead they have applied for permission to develop a small portion of the estate for houses, a request that simultaneously has natural preservationists up in arms, while others with equally decaying historic estates watch closely for a precedent. (More about the controversy here.)
All of which we romantic Americans should probably consider as we watch Downton Abbey and wish we lived in the Castle. Ahh, it's not easy being grand....
See here for Highclere Castle's official website, with more photos, history, and information – including, if you're truly fortunate, arranging a wedding.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Downton Abbey and the Edwardians
Loretta reports:
Though the new PBS Masterpiece program, Downton Abbey, is set in 1912, two years after King Edward VII (1841-1910) died, you won’t hear me complaining about descriptions calling it an “Edwardian era” drama. George V might have been wearing England’s crown, but the Edwardian atmosphere lingered. Like the Regency period about a century earlier, the term “Edwardian” is often stretched to include some time before and after the specific ruler whose name it bears.
There are some other interesting parallels to the Regency. King Edward VII’s mother, Queen Victoria, had an interminable reign, like King George III, father of the Prince Regent (later George IV). This mean that both heirs to the throne had a very long wait to wear the crown. Both wore their crowns for a very short time—less than nine years for Edward VII, ten years for George IV. Both were rebellious sons who had difficult relationships with their parents (Victoria blamed her eldest son for the death of her beloved Albert). Both men were fashion plates, although Edward was more of a fashion leader. The Prince Regent, when not under the guidance of Beau Brummell, had theatrical tendencies in dress, with sometimes unfortunate results.
Both men had a lot of girlfriends, though I’m not sure either could compete with their ancestor King Charles II. However, again unlike the Prince Regent, Edward VII was quite fond of his wife, Alexandra. I blogged about one of his mistresses, Daisy, Countess of Warwick, a year ago, and plan to gossip about more of his girlfriends during the run of Downton Abbey.
For now, though, let's take look at fashion. It’s interesting, isn't it? that both eras feature a vertical style of dress, and a reduction in underwear. Between the time John Singer Sargent painted the splendid portrait of Daisy and her son, and the time of Downton Abbey, women's fashion underwent quite a change. Instead of the S curves of the turn of the century, the shape of women’s fashion began slimming down, heading toward the boyish look of the Roaring Twenties.
As we all know, styles come and go and come again, and these two eras offer a good example. Loyal readers of this blog may notice a similarity between the 1912 French fashion plate here and the winter promenade dress I showed for January 1815.
Though the new PBS Masterpiece program, Downton Abbey, is set in 1912, two years after King Edward VII (1841-1910) died, you won’t hear me complaining about descriptions calling it an “Edwardian era” drama. George V might have been wearing England’s crown, but the Edwardian atmosphere lingered. Like the Regency period about a century earlier, the term “Edwardian” is often stretched to include some time before and after the specific ruler whose name it bears.
There are some other interesting parallels to the Regency. King Edward VII’s mother, Queen Victoria, had an interminable reign, like King George III, father of the Prince Regent (later George IV). This mean that both heirs to the throne had a very long wait to wear the crown. Both wore their crowns for a very short time—less than nine years for Edward VII, ten years for George IV. Both were rebellious sons who had difficult relationships with their parents (Victoria blamed her eldest son for the death of her beloved Albert). Both men were fashion plates, although Edward was more of a fashion leader. The Prince Regent, when not under the guidance of Beau Brummell, had theatrical tendencies in dress, with sometimes unfortunate results.
Both men had a lot of girlfriends, though I’m not sure either could compete with their ancestor King Charles II. However, again unlike the Prince Regent, Edward VII was quite fond of his wife, Alexandra. I blogged about one of his mistresses, Daisy, Countess of Warwick, a year ago, and plan to gossip about more of his girlfriends during the run of Downton Abbey.
For now, though, let's take look at fashion. It’s interesting, isn't it? that both eras feature a vertical style of dress, and a reduction in underwear. Between the time John Singer Sargent painted the splendid portrait of Daisy and her son, and the time of Downton Abbey, women's fashion underwent quite a change. Instead of the S curves of the turn of the century, the shape of women’s fashion began slimming down, heading toward the boyish look of the Roaring Twenties.As we all know, styles come and go and come again, and these two eras offer a good example. Loyal readers of this blog may notice a similarity between the 1912 French fashion plate here and the winter promenade dress I showed for January 1815.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Downton Abbey
Loretta reports:
One of the unexpected benefits of the 2NHG's public nerdiness is receiving advance notice of interesting historically–related books and television shows.
Recently we received word from PBS member station WGBH Boston* of what looks to be another delicious Masterpiece program, Downton Abbey. We understand it’s been a hit in the U.K., and we expect no less here. Certainly, the preview clips are enticing, as is the program description:
“The plot of Downton Abbey is straight out of Jane Austen, updated to the era that introduced electric lights and telephones. It is 1912. The Titanic has just gone down in the north Atlantic, taking with it the two male heirs to Downton Abbey, whose current Lord Grantham has only daughters—albeit marriageable ones. His nearest male relative is a lowly lawyer—and bachelor—living in Manchester, who duly arrives with his mother to learn the ropes of managing a sprawling country estate, with its army of devoted, sometimes bickering servants, its hunts, garden parties, and sexual intrigues.”
The series begins in the U.S. on Sunday 9 January on PBS. Lovers of historical drama will want to reserve space on their TV viewing schedules.
*PBS is the U.S.’s non-profit public broadcasting television service, and WGBH, this Massachusetts girl is proud to say, is one of its biggest producers of what they call “educational programming,” a name that ill serves entertaining and addictive shows, some of which, like Masterpiece, have been on the air for decades.
One of the unexpected benefits of the 2NHG's public nerdiness is receiving advance notice of interesting historically–related books and television shows.
Recently we received word from PBS member station WGBH Boston* of what looks to be another delicious Masterpiece program, Downton Abbey. We understand it’s been a hit in the U.K., and we expect no less here. Certainly, the preview clips are enticing, as is the program description:
“The plot of Downton Abbey is straight out of Jane Austen, updated to the era that introduced electric lights and telephones. It is 1912. The Titanic has just gone down in the north Atlantic, taking with it the two male heirs to Downton Abbey, whose current Lord Grantham has only daughters—albeit marriageable ones. His nearest male relative is a lowly lawyer—and bachelor—living in Manchester, who duly arrives with his mother to learn the ropes of managing a sprawling country estate, with its army of devoted, sometimes bickering servants, its hunts, garden parties, and sexual intrigues.”
The series begins in the U.S. on Sunday 9 January on PBS. Lovers of historical drama will want to reserve space on their TV viewing schedules.
*PBS is the U.S.’s non-profit public broadcasting television service, and WGBH, this Massachusetts girl is proud to say, is one of its biggest producers of what they call “educational programming,” a name that ill serves entertaining and addictive shows, some of which, like Masterpiece, have been on the air for decades.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)










