In light of Iceland’s volcano grounding UK flights, we thought it would be appropriate to remind everyone of 1816, the year that England, and much of the rest of the world, experienced the “Year Without a Summer,” which was caused by the 1815 eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia. You can read about it here, here and here. Victoria and I can only hope that the ash clears up by June to allow us to reach England as scheduled, and that it does not extend into the summer – quelle horror!
In Doc Martin, Martin Clunes plays the town of Portwenn’s local GP, Martin Ellingham, who was once a brilliant and highly successful London surgeon until he developed a phobia of blood that prevented him conducting operations. After retraining as a GP, he applied for a post in the sleepy Cornish village of Portwenn, where he had spent childhood holidays.
Much of the show’s humour revolves around Ellingham’s clumsy interactions with the local villagers. Despite his surgical brilliance, Ellingham lacks vital personal skills and any semblance of a bedside manner and is often clueless as to the feelings of others. Much to his disgust, Dr Ellingham (referred arrives in town to find a surgery is in disarray, the medical equipment atniquated and the patients’ records a mess. He also inherits an incompetent receptionist, Elaine Denham, who would rather spend her day at work playing gambling games on the office computer.
Martin is joined by a cast which includes the perennially favorite actress Stephanie Cole as his aunt, Joan Norton, who provides him with emotional support in the face of the disquiet among the villagers. Caroline Catz plays opinionated primary school teacher (later headmistress) Louisa Glasson. Doc Martin is attracted to her, but finds himself unable to express this. Louisa appears to share this mutual attraction, but finds their personalities often too different, while she is caring and nurturing, Martin is emotionally detached and at times neurotic.
While much of the above might not sound like the ideal premise for a comedic television show, I assure you that it works splendidly – viewing numbers peaked at 9 million for the last series. Doc Martin is addictive. And ITV announced that Martin Clunes has reprised his role as the curmudgeonly GP in a new eight-part drama series that was filmed in Cornwall by Buffalo Pictures last Spring. So, prepare for these new episodes by watching the old – available via Netflix, Blockbuster and some local libraries. Or, you can watch previous episodes here.
by Victoria Hinshaw
The property was already ancient when the Manners arrived. The first castle, almost a thousand years ago, was built overlooking the Vale of Belvoir after the Norman Conquest by Robert de Todeni, standard bearer for William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. The present castle, remodeled and rebuilt beginning in 1799, is the fourth to stand here. Designed in the popular Regency-era style of Gothick Revival, Belvoir has turrets, towers and battlements that serve no purpose beyond decoration.
I visited a few years ago with Kristine Hughes, and several good friends who love the Regency era. Upon our approach, we were accosted by a pair of highwaymen who abducted Kristine’s daughter, Brooke, and writer Diane Gaston, captured in the pictures.
Upon entry, one is confronted with the gateroom, a vast collection of spears, swords, muskets, hatchets, shields, and armor. Very impressive.
In one of the hallways, there is a long row of leather buckets, for use in putting out fires. The Bucket Brigade.
The castle houses priceless collections of artwork and decorative objects. Among my favorites are the magnificent family portraits by Gainsborough, Reynolds and Lawrence.
Many of the rooms are splendid beyond belief, the very height of Regency elegance. In fact, scenes in The Young Victoria were filmed here, as a stand-in for Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle.
Take a virtual tour of Belvoir here.
Since my words cannot adequately describe the castle, here are a few more lovely pictures for you. To me, this is eye candy indeed.
The new Chris Rock remake of Death at a Funeral was released this week. It changes the British original to the U.S. with a mostly African-American cast. I’m sure it will be hilarious.
But if you haven’t seen the original Death at a Funeral, out just three years ago in 2007, be sure to get a copy from Netflix or rent one or from cable on-demand. It is so funny you will need to watch it several times to get all the lines.
Should an applicant not meet the approval of these ladies, he or she was turned down for membership. In addition, the rules were strictly adhered to, with the Duke of Wellington himself being turned away when he arrived at the Rooms in trousers, rather than the required knee breeches. Or was it because, as another story goes, he arrived after the hour of midnight? Appropos of this singular event, George Ticknor wrote that he and Lord and Lady Downshire, on their way to Almack’s, stopped off at Lady Mornington’s, where they met the Duke of Wellington. They asked him if he were going to Almack’s and the Duke replied that “he thought he should look in by and by,” upon which his mother told him that he’d better get there in good time as Lady Jersey would make no allowances for him. The Duke dawdled, Ticknor and the rest going on to Almack’s without him. Later that evening, Ticknor was standing with Lady Jersey when an attendant told her, “Lady Jersey, the Duke of Wellington is at the door, and desires to be admitted.” “What o’clock is it?” she asked. “Seven minutes after eleven, your ladyship.” She paused, then said with emphasis and distinctness, “Give my compliments to the Duke of Wellington, and say she is very glad that the first enforcement of the rule of exclusion is such that hereafter no one can complain of its application. He cannot be admitted.”
In any case, the Duke was not the only person of rank who was censored. A report dated 1765 runs: “The Duchess of Bedford was first blackballed, but is now since admitted, the Duchesses of Grafton and of Marlborough are also chosen. Also Lady Holderness, Lady Rochford are blackballed, as is Lord March.” Captain Gronow records, “Very often persons whose rank and fortunes entitled them to entree anywhere else were excluded by the cliquism of the lady patronesses, for the female government of Almack’s was a pure despotism and subject to all the caprices of despotic rule. It is needless to add that, like every other despotism, it was not innocent of abuses.” Still, admittance was sought and the Rooms became, “a matrimonial bazaar where mothers met to carry on affairs of state; and often has the table, spread with tepid lemonade, weak tea, tasteless orgeat, stale cakes and thin slices of bread and butter – the only refreshment allowed – been the scene of tender proposals.”
Subscribers to Almack’s were allowed to bring a guest to a Ball, provided they passed muster first. He or she had to call personally at the Rooms and were either granted a “Strangers Ticket” of admission or were blackballed. The Rooms were open for supper and gaming, with dancing lasting the night. Once supper had been served at eleven o’clock, the doors were closed and no one else was admitted for the evening, regardless of rank or reputation. Once you had been approved by the Lady Patronesses, your social standing was guaranteed to soar. Fortunate young ladies making their first London Season and who’d been allowed to ‘come out’ at an Almack’s ball had their dancing partners personally chosen by one of the Ladies. A passage from Lutrell’s work “Advice to Julia” concerning Almack’s reads:
“All on that magic list depends;
Fame, fortune, fashion, lovers, friends;
`Tis that which gratifies or vexes
All ranks, all ages, all sexes.
If once to Almack’s you belong,
Like monarchs, you can do no wrong;
But banished thence on Wednesday night,
By Jove you can do nothing right.”
The ballroom was partitioned off for the dancers by crimson ropes. In 1814, the dances at Almack’s were Scotch Reels and English Country dances and the orchestra, being from Edinburgh, was conducted by the celebrated Neil Gow. During the early Victorian era, Weippert and Collinet’s band provided the music. It was not until 1815 that Lady Jersey introduced the French Quadrille to the Rooms, about which Mrs. Arbuthnot wrote on in a letter on June 22, 1823 . . . . “I went two nights ago to a costume ball at Almack’s for a Welsh charity. It was very brilliant & there was a quadrille that was beautiful. All the prettiest girls in London were in it, such as Ly A. Hervey, Miss Poyntz, Miss Stewart (natural daughter of Ld Granville & the late Lady Bessborough) Miss Foresters, Miss Beresford, Miss Howard. The men were in regimentals & each wore a bouquet. The quadrille, however, gave great offence, for they danced together all night & took the upper end of the room, which was considered a great impertinence. They were dressed in caps & flowers with a chip Swiss hat at the back of the head, scarlet bodices & white petticoats trimmed with scarlet ribbons & flowers. All the Royal Family were there, & it was altogether a very grand concern.”
Around this same date, Prince Puckler-Muskau, (pictured at left) a visitor to London whilst on the hunt for an heiress to marry, offered a fresh perspective on the Rooms in a letter he wrote on April 26, 1825, “The first Almack’s ball took place this evening; and from all I had heard of this celebrated assembly, I was really curious to see it: but never were my expectations so disappointed. It was not much better than at Brighton. A large bare room, with a bad floor, and ropes round it, like the space in an Arab camp parted off for the horses; two or three naked rooms at the side, in which were served the most wretched refreshments; and a company into which, spite of the immense difficulty of getting tickets, a great many `Nobodies’ had wriggled; in which the dress was generally as tasteless as the tournure was bad; – this was all. In a word, a sort of inn-entertainment: – the music and the lighting the only good things. And yet Almack’s is the culminating poin
t of the English world of fashion.”