Sunday, December 30, 2018

Culling my research library


While we are all thinking about New Year resolutions, I am reminded of the horror with which I contemplated the hideous prospect of getting rid of my books. Moving house became imminent at the beginning of the year and there was no way I was going to be able to take them all with me. But oh, my research books!

I used to have a huge seven foot high bookcase full of material covering all aspects of life, mostly from the 18th Century with a smattering of books on other periods along with my crime library concerning investigations and murder. The move, when it came, was to a really tiny flat, and that bookcase was not going to fit in.

I had to make some crucial decisions. I had room only for one largish bookcase. I managed to create space for a couple of small ones and most of the books that fell by the wayside were novels, I'm afraid. Culling my research books proved well-nigh impossible, but I did get rid of those I decided I was never going to have time to use. I absolutely had to keep the main ones relating to the Georgian and Regency periods, many of which I cannot do without.

The most used is Cunnington’s Handbook of English Costume in the Eighteenth Century, without which I couldn’t function, although I usually leave these descriptions to the editing stage. The great thing about Cunnington is the detail, from fabrics to accessories, with year on year changes for both men and women.

She details everything, from bonnets and hairstyles, to materials used and when they were fashionable, whether women wore ruffles, what colours were worn when to such intimate little gems as false bosoms and using mouse skin artificial eyebrows. What about this little aid to beauty?

"Cork Plumpers were occasionally worn to restore roundness to the hollow cheek."

Invaluable material.

One book on antiques has a useful set of images depicting the way rooms actually looked, as well as individual items of furniture - for which I’ve also got Chippendale’s workbook. Ackermann helps with scenes of London, such as Brooks’s, Astley’s Amphitheatre, Covent Garden and the Pantheon. The Romance of the Road gives two whole journeys from London to Bath and London to Portsmouth in drawings, so you get distances, inns and the likely traffic. I had to hang on to my books on Georgian cookery, and all those books with satirical drawings are wonderfully evocative of the period.

Setting is vital and I’m in love with my book of maps from the late 18th century covering the entire country. I’ve also got London and greater London A-Z style maps, and a whole raft of detailed Victorian books about London and surrounding districts with interesting snippets, like who lived where, what’s there and the history behind it, plus sketches.

Of course there is the internet, and I will dive into Google for little facts and figures. For example, an expression so common to us now like "mad as a hatter" might not have been current in the period. Google is excellent for little things like that. And for details about old inns, towns and distances from place to place.


Pinterest is a mine of useful images. You can pretty much find out what anything looked like, from a copper foot warmer to how a lady manages the exigencies of ordinary life wearing all those petticoats. I add to my boards all the time, though whether I shall ever be able to find the exact image I need at any given moment is a moot point.


I like images best because they help me picture the scene, and I can garner textual stuff to furnish detail. It’s amazing how it puts me into the period in my head, which in turn enables me to write it for the reader to imagine.

This is what I love about books, and why research is vital. You can’t detail everything you’ve read. Instead you draw the scene in brush strokes of words, letting the reader fill in the gaps. I have to immerse myself in the data, even if only about 10% ends up in the book.

To be honest, I’m far too apt to lose myself in the books and forget what I’m actually looking for. One piece of research leads to another, besides throwing up new plot points I hadn’t thought of. Research for me is as much part of the process of writing as it is exploration of the period.

Just as well I've managed to hang on to most of my precious books!

Happy New Year
Elizabeth Bailey

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Happy Birthday, Jane Austen!



Jane Austen born at Steventon Rectory, Hampshire on a freezing December 16th, in 1775, and today is her 243th birthday. She is many people's  favourite author - including myself, so here is Rudyard Kipling's poem in her honour.


Jane went to Paradise: 
That was only fair.
Good Sir Walter followed her,
And armed her up the stair.
Henry and Tobias,
And Miguel of Spain,
Stood with Shakespeare at the top
To welcome Jane.

Then the Three Archangels
Offered out of hand,
Anything in Heaven’s gift
That she might command.
Azrael’s eyes upon her,
Raphael’s wings above,
Michael’s sword against her heart,
Jane said, ‘Love.’

Instantly the under-
Standing Seraphim
Laid their fingers to their lips
And went to look for him.
Stole across the Zodiac,
Harnessed Charles’s Wain,
And whispered round the Nebulæ
‘Who loved Jane?’

In a private limbo
Where none had thought to look,
Sat a Hampshire gentleman
Reading of a book.
It was called Persuasion
And it told the plain
Story of the love between
Him and Jane.

He heard the question
Circle Heaven through –
Closed the book and answered:
‘I did – and do!’
Quietly but speedily
(as Captain Wentworth moved)
Entered into Paradise
The man Jane loved!

Jane lies in Winchester, blessed be her shade!
Praise the Lord for making her, and her for all she made.
And, while the stones of Winchester – or Milsom Street – remain,
Glory, Love, and Honour unto England’s Jane!


Happy Birthday, Jane!

Elizabeth Hawksley

Wednesday, December 05, 2018

The Romanovs: Every Jewel has a Story


The new exhibition at the Queen’s Gallery, Russia, Royalty & the Romanovs, is, as you might expect, a feast for the eyes, especially if you love Fabergé and late 19th century Russian jewellery – and who doesn’t? I thought, on this chilly December day, you might enjoy a peek at some of the treasures.



Fabergé Basket of Flowers Egg, 1901

I'm starting with a love story which, alas, ended tragically: Princess Charlotte (1796-1817), only child of the Prince Regent, later King George IV, and heir presumptive to the throne, and the handsome Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg who arrived in London in 1814, in the train of Tsar Alexander I who was there, as Britain's ally, for the premature Peace Celebrations to mark the defeat of Napoleon and his exile to the island of Elba. I can find no record of whether Charlotte actually met the Tsar, but she certainly met Prince Leopold, and they fell in love. She immediately met opposition from the Prince Regent, who wanted her to marry William of Orange, but Charlotte persisted and, eventually, she and Leopold were married on 2nd May, 1816.  



Princess Charlotte, portrait after George Dawe, 1817, wearing a sarafan dress

In the George Dawe 1817 portrait of Princess Charlottte, she is wearing a traditional Russian sarafan, or, more accurately, an English version based loosely on the sarafan. She is also wearing the Star of the Order of St Catherine, given to her by Tsar Alexander  I, which suggests that she might have met him.



The actual sarafan dress

The actual dress is also shown above. The sarafan is, in fact, a pinafore dress and the Princess wore it over an embroidered linen blouse. The blue silk pinafore has a drawstring under the bust which allows it to be loosened as her pregnancy took its course. The gold lace braid incorporating crimson silk was made in London.

Tragically, Princess Charlotte died in childbirth in 1817. Two years later, Princess Alexandrina Victoria (incidentally, Princess Charlotte's first cousin, and later to be Queen Victoria) was born, Tsar Alexander became little Drina's godfather. The friendship between the Russian and British royal families was firmly established, and, until the Russian Revolution put a stop to it, gifts were constantly exchanged and a number of Anglo-Russian royal marriages took place. 



Portrait miniature of Maria Feodorovna, née Princess Dagmar of Denmark, in a Fabergé frame, about 1895 

In 1862, Queen Victoria’s eldest son, Albert Edward, married the Danish Princess, Alexandra. Four years later, in 1866, Alexandra’s sister, Dagmar, made a spectacular marriage to Tsar Alexander III, changing her name to Maria Feodorovna. The two countries’ ties became even closer.    



Casket of nephrite jade, with gold, silver, rubies, emerald and pearl decoration by Pavel Ovchinnikiv (1830-88), 7 x 17 x 10 cms. 


In 1874, Queen Victoria’s second son, Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, married the Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna of Russia, daughter of Tsar Alexander II and the couple were given the above casket. 



Jewel flowers: l to r  Fabergé philadelphus: rock crystal, gold, nephrite, quartzite and olivines, 1900;  H.I. Wigstrom chrysanthemum: rock crystal, gold, nephrite, enamel, 1908; Fabergé pansy rock crystal, gold, enamel, nephrite and brilliant diamond, 1900

Two of Queen Victoria’s grand-daughters also married into the Romanov family; the Princesses Elisabeth and Alix of Hesse, daughters of the Queen’s second daughter, Princess Alice. Princess Elisabeth married the Grand Duke Sergei in 1884 and, most spectacular of all, Princess Alix, renamed Alexandra Feodorovna, married Tsar Nicholas II in 1894.




 Fabergé Mosaic egg and surprise, 1914

This egg is a technical masterpiece. It was commissioned by Tsar Nicholas II but never collected and it was subsequently confiscated by the Bolsheviks. Its construction is ingenious, it has an egg-shaped yellow gold and platinum lattice frame into which tiny brilliant diamonds, rose cut diamonds, emeralds, topazes, sapphires, garnets, half pearls, and moonstones have been inserted creating a petit point tapestry effect.

The 'surprise' inside is a jewelled and enamelled miniature of the silhouettes of the Tsar and Tsarina's five children, l - r in order of birth: Olga, Tatiana, Maria, Anastasia and Alexei. The designer was the Finnish Alma Theresia Pihi, who worked for Fabergé. 



 Fabergé silver, amethyst and diamond brooch, c.1909


This brooch was given to Princess Mary, later Queen Mary, in 1909 by the Tsar Nicholas II and the Tsarina Alexandra during their visit to Cowes to enjoy the regatta. Their whole family was there; it was to be the last time that the two Royal families met before the First World War broke out. They dined on each others' yachts.  

Siberian amethysts are famed for their intense purple hue as you can see from the example above. It is a hexagon with a diamond framed border and a diamond bow at the top. It can be worn as a brooch or as a pendant. 


Fabergé cigarette case, 1908


     This vivid Art Nouveau royal blue moiré guilloché enamel Fabergé cigarette case with a sinuous two colour gold snake decorated with brilliant and rosé cut diamonds grasping its tail in its mouth was given to King Edward VII by his mistress, Mrs Keppel in 1908. The snake holding it's own tail is a symbol of  everlasting love. It is noticeably plainer than most Fabergé  objects we see associated with royalty - but it is supremely elegant. - as, indeed was Mrs Keppel.

Contrary to what one might expect, Queen Alexandra approved of Mrs Keppel who was kind, generous and tactful, and could always cheer up the King when he was moody. Alexandra even allowed Mrs Keppel to visit him to say good-bye when he was dying.

After his death, Queen Alexandra returned the cigarette case to Mrs Keppel, who remained on the Dowager Queen's guest list. That changed when Queen Alexandra died in 1925. Court life under Queen Mary and King George was much stricter (and possibly duller) and Mrs Keppel was firmly dropped. Then, in 1936, Mrs Keppel returned the cigarette case to Queen Mary so that it could always stay in the Royal Collection.

An interesting move and I can't help wondering why she did it. I don't altogether buy the 'official' reason.  


Vladimir tiara made by court jeweller Bolin for the Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna, wife of  Grand Duke Vladimir, 3rd son of Tsar Alexander II, 1874


This beautiful tiara is made of interlocking diamond circles set in gold and silver with pear-shaped pearl drops. It also has an extraordinary story. The Grand Duchess Maria, the first owner of the tiara, was living in the sumptuous Vladimir Palace in St Petersburg when the Russian Revolution broke out. 

In 1917, things got too hot and she fled, leaving her jewels hidden in her bedroom. But exile was expensive and she soon needed money. At the point, the story began to remind me of the Edwardian anti-hero, Raffles, creation of the novelist E. W. Hornung. Raffles, an ex-public school and gentleman burglar with bags of charm, is invited to various country houses, accompanied by his ex-fag, Bunny as his valet, where he steals the other guests'jewels.. Naturally he gets away with it.   


The Grand Duchess's son, Boris, accompanied by a British friend, Bertie Stopford, an art dealer with diplomatic ties (or, in some versions, a spy) came up with a highly dangerous plan. Disguised as workmen, they managed to gain access to the Vladimir Palace, get into the Grand Duchess's bedroom, retrieve the jewels and smuggle them out in the diplomatic bag. The jewels were taken to London but, en route, some of them were damaged. 


In 1920, Maria was the last Grand Duchess to escape from Russia; her journey, via Italy and France, was traumatic and she died a few years' later, leaving her jewellery to her daughter, Elena, Queen of Greece and Denmark - and, incidentally, Prince Philip's aunt.


Queen Mary, who loved collecting objects once owned by her murdered Russian relations, bought a number of jewels from Elena, including the Vladimir tiara. It was in a bad state and needed restoring. Queen Mary wanted to make it more adaptable and it now has emerald drops as well as the original pear-shaped pearls.   


So, dear reader, if you want an idea for a novel, you could do a lot worse than go for the story of the Vladimir tiara.

The exhibition, Russia: Royalty & the Romanovs, is on at the Queen's Gallery until 28th April, 2019. It is well worth seeing and it certainly has the 'Wow!' factor.

I did a companion blog on the exhibition itself on 18th November, 2018 on my http://elizabethhawksley.com website. I have listed it under 'Exhibitions', 'Royal Connections', 'Celebrating the Arts' and 'Victorian Age' categories. 

Photographs: courtesy of the Royal Collection Trust, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, 2018 

Elizabeth Hawksley