Dove Cottage

I had the privilege of visiting Dove Cottage in March of 2011, in the Lake District. And I have to point out that I was both impressed and humbled by the way Poet Laureate, William Wordsworth lived during his most prolific years. He and his sister, Dorothy, lived in this dark and tiny cottage between the years of 1799-1808. During his time spent at Dove Cottage, Wordsworth composed some of his most memorable writings, such as "Ode to Duty", "My Heart Leaps Up" and "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud". His great friend, Samuel Coleridge, also spent much of his time with Wordsworth and his sister in this very cottage. I was especially surprised how frugally this literary great lived. I have seen the homes of many timeless British authors, but Wordsworth's was the most modest by far.

Regency Vocabulary

Ever wonder what it would be like to have a discussion with a Regency lady or gentleman? So much of the English language of the Regency Era has been lost in translation and although Jane Austen is a reigning favorite of England and my bookshelf, much of the dialogue in her beloved novels fall on confused and ignorant ears. With a deeper understanding of the innuendo and subtlety that goes with any time in history, comes a deeper appreciation for, and enjoyment of any (already) timeless author. With no prior understanding of what a libertine is, it is difficult to discern what Colonel Brandon truly believes of the character of Mr. Willoughby. Sure, we get the gist that Willoughby is a nasty and egotistial young man, but what is that indefinable characteristic that wraps him up in a nutshell?

"I have described Mr. Willoughby as the worst of libertines." - Colonel Brandon

In order to better follow the in depth analysis of Jane Austen's characters, I am providing the following link for a Regency Lexicon...

http://www.thenonesuch.com/lexicon.html

Regency Architecture

So taking a break from the "interesting" Regency story I have been attempting at (writing is really hard!) I thought I would focus on the architecture that drove the era. Though it is not my typical style, I love it! I think I've decided it's because the style in classical and very clean. Just look at the lovely city of Bath. What an architectural cupcake. Of course because I am limited in my understanding in architecture in general and the specifics in regards to the Regency era, I will quote http://www.britainexpress.com:

...Regency architecture, was classical in nature. That is, it used the philosophy and traditional designs of Greek and Roman architecture. The typical Regency upper or middle-class house was built in brick and covered in stucco or painted plaster. Fluted Greek columns, painted and carefully moulded cornices and other decorative touches, were all reproduced in cheap stucco. The key words to describe the overall effect are "refined elegance".

Regency villa

The Regency period saw a great surge of interest in classical Greece, popularized by men like Lord Byron and his outspoken advocacy of greek nationalism. A whole generation of aristocratic amateur archaeologists from Britain scoured the Greek world - and occassionally absconded with classical Greek remains. The resulting popularity of Greek style reached beyond architecture to include painting, furniture, interior decoration, and even dress design.

Regency Terraces. First a mundane definition: a terrace is a fanciful term for row housing, that is, a string of houses, each sharing a wall with the house beside it. The most characteristic Regency designs survive today in terrace housing.

Many of the more upper class terraces, such as those designed by John Nash surrounding Regents Park in London, are entered through triumphal arches reminiscent of ancient Rome, These arches, generally in stucco, lead to grand rows of houses, with carefully balanced pediments fronted by massive pilaster columns. The best remaining terraces built in this grand style are in London, Cheltenham, and Brighton.

Regency terrace doors

Characteristics. Windows are tall and thin, with very small glazing bars separating the panes of glass. Balconies are of extremely fine ironwork, made of such delicate curves as to seem almost too frail to support the structure. Proportions are kept simple, relying on clean, classical lines for effect rather than decorative touches.

Windows and doors, particularly those on the ground floors, are often round-headed. Curved bow windows are popular, and detached villas often featured garden windows extending right down to the ground.

Story... Part 3

As Wexley and Mr. Mardling stood facing one another with the facts laid out, Miss Endicott swiftly rounded the corner with her unfortunate companion looking somewhat miffed. In a perplexed voice she wondered, "My Lord Wexley, who was that grinning buffoon I just had the misfortune of tripping over in the garden?"

Before Thomas or Mr. Mardling had the opportunity to inquire, the most ridiculous looking of men came gamboling down the corridor.

"My dear Mardling I have just been to the location where the body was found and simply could not bring myself to investigate the scene any further! The frog population of that pond is markedly high today, and amphibians en mass can inflict ghastly injuries indeed! Since I was a child I have known them to be particularly aggressive and hostile this time of year and I shall not be the target of their rampage today! There will not be two corpses in the water this morn! I say good day sir!" With that, the foppish man lollied back from whence he came, murmuring to himself, snippets of the need for him to thoroughly cleanse his hands and feet of pond scum coming back to their ears.

With a look of dismay Miss Endicott once again turned to the two and queried, "Seriously, who was that?!?"

Without looking from the notepad in his hand, Mardling replied, "Oh that was just Luis. Have no fear Miss, I will be replacing him henceforth."

To be continued...

A Regency Story... Part 2

As the fur flew and tall, gangly legs intermingled with short, stubby ones, Wexley attempted to differentiate his own dog from the distasteful canine. In a moment of sheer will and determination, Miss Endicott disentangled her companion from George in what can only be termed brute strength. With a look of admiration and awe, his glance slid from his wretched pointer to the other dog and then to the efficient companion, as she reprimanded him leaning down and looking sternly into his eyes and pronouncing, “No, No!” then pulling herself up and keeping eye contact with Hastings, she murmured something under her breath that was mostly indiscernible with the exception of one very decipherable word ~ superior.
“I did not catch that Miss Endicott. Were you just referring to that portly, unfortunate swine as superior?”
“Of course not My Lord, I would never insult the master of the house or his creature,” was her tart response. Wexley could not help but feel that he was being both grandly insulted and laughed at as she pulled on the lead with a snort of her own. Yes, she most certainly was laughing at him. He watched as companion and companion led one another back to the direction they had been heading before his interruption. Who was leading whom, he could not say.
Coughing to catch her attention, Thomas pointed out that if they wanted to get to the garden, she would have to head the other direction and pointed behind him in the opposite direction.
“How does one get to the outdoors Lord Wexley?” she asked with exasperation. “Your home is a veritable maze.”
He pointed out that there was another corridor she had passed a few paces back that she could take to doors leading to the hothouse, and then to the private garden from there.
“Thank you my Lord,” with a small nod, Miss Endicott once again led a somewhat reluctant Hastings away. He watched as the mongrel took several glances back toward George, tongue lolled to the side of its mouth, before turning the corner. Wexley looked down at his unfortunate dog, as he began to back into the cozy and safe confines of his office. Dear Lord, George was cowering, actually cowering. What in heaven had just happened that had his regal pointer retreating and had he thoroughly vexed?
As he was attempting to sort out the absurdity of such an impertinent duo, he heard the voices of the magistrate, just arrived from London and that of his butler, Brackett.
“…doing in the East Wing Brackett?” Wexley caught the last part of the query as the two moved toward him and Brackett made eye contact with him.
Without taking his eye from Wexley, Brackett answered with a very even, “as she always has Mr. Mardling, tending to the needs of Master George.”
As Mardling took note of Wexley for the first time with a nod, he continued to scratch in his notepad and inquired, “and Master George is somehow related to Lord Wexly?” this done while making eye contact with Wexley as they stopped before him.
Before Brackett could make a reply, Thomas jumped in and rejoined, “Yes Mr. Mardling, George is a very integral part of this family, but unfortunately we are not linked by blood. George is my dog.”
Surprise was quickly concealed with indifference as the magistrate further scratches to his pad. “So the evening before the slaying of Miss Davies, she was last seen tending to the needs of George the dog?” this last more of a statement than a question.
“Mr. Mardling, please understand that we are not assuming that Miss Davies was murdered with deviousness in mind, but made an unfortunate slip,” Wexley responded.
“My Lord, I have been in your home for less than a day and based on the evidence I collected thus far, there is doubt in my mind that your housemaid was indeed murdered,” Mr. Mardling flatly responded.
Somewhat miffed, Wexly demanded, “what evidence would that be sir?”
“point A, (holding up one finger) she was found in your pond, a place she avoided at all times due to irrational fear of water, point B (finger number 2) she was further found dressed in full livery, and point C (third finger raised) the report given by all witnesses thus far points to her untimely , and involuntary death.”
Wexly knew this to be the case but sighed inwardly as the facts were laid out before him in rational detail. Damn!
To be continued…

A Regency Story... Part I

Lord Wexley stared out his window at nothing in particular. There was not much to gaze upon; after all it was a dreary October day with not a hint of sunshine. The garden that his study overlooked was showing evidence that it would soon be winter and everything would go dormant. How perfect the weather outside should reflect the pensive mood he currently felt…things would only grow bleaker. He solemnly turned from the view outside back to the decanter set with an excellent brandy ready to be consumed. He slowly poured a glass and swilled the amber liquid as he lazily gazed at the variety of color the fire in the fireplace cast and danced on the opposite wall. With a satisfied sigh as the liquid warmed him from the inside out, he allowed a moment of tranquility to wash over him. In the calm of the small and cozy study tucked in the back of his rather impressive country manor, Thomas could almost convince himself that he was enjoying a lazy autumn day. But alas, the illusion was only a thin veneer that was abruptly shattered as his furry companion lying curled by the fire in a deep and contented sleep became immediately alert and emitted a deep warning growl. Lord Wexley’s and the dog’s ears’ were both instantly perked and alert to a scuttling sound just outside the study door. Curious and attentive to the strange scratching and...was that grunting or snorting crossing the study and heading down the corridor? Odd that someone should be in this very private part of the home, since all guests were quartered in the west wing. Making his way to the door, Wexley gingerly turned the knob and poked his head out the door and craned his neck to the left, where he heard the bizarre sound fading down the passageway. Ah, the impish companion with Miss Hearnshaw’s fat, beastly dog. Who brought a dog to a house party anyhow? Wexley pondered this as he noticed the youngish woman turn around, seemingly lost in her trek to… god knew where. Clearing his throat in an obvious fashion to capture her attention, she crisply turned on her heel and nodded her acknowledgment. She swiftly headed back in his direction, with the beast, very much the leader of the two, excitedly and impatiently turning and leading the poor woman on this new mission.
As they loudly moved toward him, Lord Wexley inquired, “Are you enjoying a stroll with your dog Miss, or may I be of help in directing you someplace specifically?”
“Endicott.”
At his confused demeanor, she clarified, “Miss Endicott. That is my name. I am walking Miss Hearnshaw’s dog. She needs a bit of a walk Lord Wexley and I was attempting to find the lovely garden I viewed from her room.”
“Ah, I presume you mean the private family garden with the charming fountain at its center?” the viscount wryly inquired.
With an air of nonchalance, she waved a hand in the air and announced, “the exact same. If you could only point me in the correct direction, I may peacefully make my way.” This said as the round mongrel at her heels took stock of the lord of the manor and summarily hopped on its rather stunted hind quarters and smiled on him as if he were some sort of demigod, resting its equally stunted front legs on his calf.
“I dislike being the bearer of bad news, but I believe you are breaking all rules and deserting your rooms?” Wexley asked with irony laced in his voice.
“Sir?” was the only response.
Clearing his throat once more and lacing his fingers with the dog’s enormous ears, giving the swine great amounts of pleasure with his unknowing strokes, Wexley replied that, “indeed Miss … um… Endicott. We are all of us, incarcerated.”
Having focused all of her attention to the beast she had on a lead as it made its official olfactory acquaintance of him, Miss Endicott finally snapped her eyes to Lord Wexley’s .
“I understand Sir, that we are all to be sentenced to our rooms for an afternoon of an indeterminate interval, but there are needs only the outdoors can see to for my lady’s companion,” Miss Endicott replied without a moment’s hesitation and only a slight flush beginning to stain her cheeks. “So if you will only help me find my way, I was only hoping for a change of scenery with my duties these last several days. Afterward, Hastings and I plan to make our way immediately back to the guest quarters and safely back to where we can patiently await the questioning of the local magistrate. But I can promise you as a guest and a lady that neither Hastings nor I would ever presume to murder one of your staff for any reason.”
“Well”, Wexley thought and was about to reply in kind, when the battle of the beasts began, with the flash of something resembling his own well bred pointer dashed past him and the bread loaf of a dog with Miss Endicott began to tussle…

To be continued.

War of 1812

While Britain was fearful of Napoleon's attack on British soil with the Napoleonic Wars raging across Europe, especially with the terrible and sad invasion of Russia... there was a slightly different war being waged on the home front. The War of 1812 was the only war declared by The United States of America (by President James Madison) that was lost. Apparently Britain declared restrictions on trade that America protested. After a time of American trade ships being captured by England, we declared war and lost terribly. The major events that occurred during this great American loss were the British retaliation with the burning of the newly constructed Presidential White House and Capital Building in Washington D.C.

Another American tradition spurred from this infamous war was The Star Spangled Banner, our national anthem. While the British Navy was attempting to attack Fort McHenry , Francis Scott Key (an amateur poet witnessing the attack) was inspired to write the verse to this, then popular British drinking song, while witnessing the famous flag being raised made by our triumphant Americans... sadly, as stated before, we did not win the war!