Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we have headed slightly west from Mayfair, across Hyde Park to Kensington Gardens. After the announcement of the sudden collapse of her ‘uncle’ Lord Sherbourne Tyrwhitt, patriarch of the family living on the estate adjunct to that of Lettice’s parents, Lettice has hurriedly returned to her grand Georgian family home of Glynes in Wiltshire, leaving Edith with ample time on her hands to plan a picnic for she and her beau, grocery delivery boy, Frank Leadbetter. Edith has been longing to use the picnic basket her brother, Bert, brought back for her from Australia as a Christmas gift. Now, with the sun shining in the blue summer sky, she is finally using it as she and Frank enjoy Edith’s picnic on their Sunday afternoon off together. Whilst Edith has supplied the picnic, for his part Frank has managed to find a red and white picnic rug from somewhere, and after finding a quiet spot on the lawns in the sunshine, he has laid it out for the pair to sit down upon.
Around them, the bells of central London ring in the distance, calling the faithful who have not yet visited to prayers and masses, for today is Sunday. Although they have spent several pleasant Sundays off together in Regent’s Park and Hyde Park, both Edith and Frank prefer to be away from the mass populace of London’s citizenry, enjoying one another’s company in the quieter and more genteel surrounds of Kensington Gardens where only the splash of the Serpentine, the twitter of birds, the calls of ducks and the chatter of couples not unlike them punctuate the air around them.
“Now what have we in here?” Frank asks, leaning up from where he lies on the picnic rug lifting one of the lids of the basket.
“Get out of there, Frank Leadbetter!” Edith exclaims, kittenishly slapping Frank’s hand away from the flap. “This is my picnic, so I’ll be the one to take things out, if you please.”
“I was only offering to help.” Frank defends.
“I know what you were looking to do, Frank.” Edith replies with a knowing look coupled with a cheeky smile that makes him smile as well. “And I’ll have none of you helping yourself before I’ve taken everything out, thank you very much.”
Frank smiles and settled back on the rug and allows the sun to warm his skin beneath his Sunday best trousers and crisp white shirt. He adjusts his straw boater brim so he can fully see his sweetheart, her pretty floral sprigged summer frock pooled around her as she sits next to him. The wide brim of her summer hat frames her pretty face perfectly as she concentrates on taking things out of the wicker basket at her side.
Edith makes a show of carefully withdrawing items from the basket slowly: firstly the Delftware cups, saucers, plates, and sugar bowl from the kitchen of Cavendish Mews, followed by a selection of kitchen cutlery. She takes out a bottle of milk, its golden top glinting in the sunlight as she leans it against the basket. She then removes a gaily coloured thermos flask* with a russet coloured body featuring an orange band, and a shiny silver to from within the confines of the basket.
“I made these myself.” Edith says proudly as she withdraws two primrose yellow napkins folded into neat triangles which she deposits on the picnic rug next to the plates. “From an odd pillow case I found in Miss Lettice’s linen cupboard which she told me to throw out.” She shakes her head. “Waste no, want not, I always say.”
“You’re a clever and resourceful girl, Edith, I’ll say that. It’s one of the reasons why I love you.” Frank says smiling as he relaxes, resting on his right elbow as he lies along the length of the rug. “All the same, I hope there is more in that basket that you have made, beyond the serviettes**.”
“What cheek!” Edith replies with mock offence, smiling down indulgently at her beau.
“Ahh, now that looks more like it!” Frank says, his voice filled with pleasure, as Edith takes out a platter on which sit twelve daintily cut triangle sandwiches.
“We have a selection of lettuce and cucumber, lettuce and tomato, tomato and cheese and even a few ham sandwiches.” Edith says proudly.
“My goodness! I am spoiled!” Frank remarks. “And on a gilt decorated platter, no less!” he adds with raised eyebrows as he notices the edge of the elongated plate poking out from beneath the ends of the two rows of sandwich triangles.
“Well, Hilda did suggest that I should take advantage of the favourable circumstances of Miss Lettice being away, so I did so by borrowing one of her sandwich platters.”
“Clever girl.”
“I’m sure that wasn’t what she meant, but I won’t take advantage of Miss Lettice’s absence. I don’t think Miss Lettice would mind me borrowing her platter, so long as I don’t break it. But,” she pauses.
“But you don’t want to push your luck.” Frank concludes with a good natured chuckle.
“Exactly!” Edith agrees with a sigh. “So if I can return it tonight, back into the cabinet at Cavendish Mews where it belongs, she need never know.”
“Well, I shall feel like a king today, eating these fine sandwiches off such a fine platter.” Frank enthuses as he looks down with hungry eyes at the dainty sandwiches and their colourful fillings.
“Hilda thought you might say that, Frank.”
“Ahh, bless you Hilda.” Frank announces to the air around him. “You know I do like Hilda a lot, but all the same, I’m glad it’s just you and I today.” He reaches up with his left hand and squeezes his sweetheart’s bare right forearm affectionately.
“Well, you were the one who suggested that we go to the Angel*** and to see ‘Bell Boy 13’**** at the West Ham Premier***** rather than going dancing at the Hammersmith Palais******, Frank.”
“I know,” Frank replies. “Although I do seem to recall that you were the one who wanted to see ‘Bell Boy 13’.”
“Well,” Edith admits shyly. “Maybe I did.”
“Because you fancy the dishy looks of Douglas McLean*******.” Frank goes on with a cheeky smile.
“Frank!”
“Now, now!” He wags a finger at her. “Don’t deny it. I’ve seen the dreamy way you look up at him on the silver screen.” He laughs good naturedly. “Anyway, I only suggested going to the Angel and the pictures after that outburst poor Hilda had in Hill Street that afternoon we did last go dancing at the Palais, and you were concerned afterwards that she might feel a bit lonely.”
“Well I was,” Edith admits matter-of-factly. “It wasn’t like poor Hilda had a flurry of eligible young men asking her to dance when we did go to the Palais.”
“No,” Frank reflects sadly.
“And, I’m so grateful to you that, like the chivalrous man that you are, you danced with her a few times, and that you came up with the Angel and the pictures as an alternative choices for our next few Sundays off, and I know she was too.”
“I’m grateful you understand me, Edith and aren’t the jealous type.”
“Why would I be jealous, Frank?”
“Well, jealous of Hilda because I asked her to dance.”
“I could never be jealous of that, Frank. I know you, and I know that you’d never do anything to upset me or jeopardise our relationship. You dance with her, so she doesn’t feel so left out, and as her best friend, I appreciate your generous gesture towards her.”
“Well, not every girl would, Edith.” Frank says, tapping his nose knowingly.
“Lucky I’m not every girl then, Frank.” Edith smiles. “I’m your girl.”
“And I’m so glad you are, Edith.” Frank sighs contentedly. “Oh, it is nice to have just the two of us today, don’t you think, Edith?” Frank asks.
“Of course I do, Frank.” Edith agrees. “I love spending our Sundays together, just we two.”
“You won’t get tired of me, then?”
“How could I ever get tired of you, Frank?”
“Just checking.” Frank smiles.
“You’re a good man, Frank Leadbetter. I’m so pleased that I met you. I’m a lucky girl.”
“And I’m lucky to have met you, Edith Watsford.” He reaches up and runs a finger lovingly along Edith’s cheek, stray strands of her long blonde hair tickling his digit as they blow in the light summer breeze.
“I think we’re both lucky.” Edith leans a little closer to Frank and places her own hands around his string jaw. “It may be harder for young women to meet young men, with so few around after the war,” she continues. “But I still think there are a lot of lonely young men out there too.”
“I think you’re right, Edith, especially so many who have seen and experienced things in the trenches that no-one else can imagine. The experience almost separates them from those of us who were lucky enough not to go to Flanders Fields.”
“Yes, I agree Frank.” Edith sighs. “But even taking that out, I think it’s still hard to meet your right match, out of all the millions of people in the world.”
“That’s why I want to get a ring on your finger as quickly as possible, in case some other young man comes and sweeps you off your feet, away from me. I bet there are dozens of men out there, unknown to you, for whom you’d be their right match.”
Edith smiles, her pert nose crinkling up in a charming away as she does. “No chance of that, Frank Leadbetter. I’ve met my perfect match. You’re the only man for me.”
“What about Douglas MacLean?” Frank asks cheekily.
“Who?” Edith feigns ignorance of the male movie idol.
She leans further down and the pair kiss gently, their lips sweet against one another as they do. The sounds of the birdsong, the laughter of children in the distance and the lap of the water drift from their consciousness as the couple focus completely upon one another for a few stolen moments. It is only when one of the young girls in a couple near to them giggles and the sound punctuates their blissful moment together, do they let their lips part.
“I do hope she wasn’t laughing at us.” Edith says self-consciously, brushing the stray hairs cascading around her pretty face around the back of her ears.
She looks around. The lawn is covered in a smattering of young couples like them, dressed in Sunday suits and straw boaters, pretty summer frocks and gaily decorated hats, enjoying picnics or in some cases simply lying side by side on the warm grass with no food for distraction. There is plenty of chatter, and smatterings of laughter, but looking at them, it seems that no-one is paying any attention to she and Frank.
“Who cares if they are.” Frank reaches lazily across and snatches up a sandwich. “If they are, then they obviously have no idea what being in love is like.” Taking a bite into the fluffy white bread he sighs with satisfaction as his teeth sink into the thin slice of tasty cheese and tomato slipped between the slices. “Nothing better than a sandwich made by you Edith, using fresh ingredients from Willison’s Grocers of Mayfair.” he murmurs.
“Oh don’t be too sure about that, Frank.” Edith replies. “You don’t know what else is in my basket.
Frank sits up and shifts himself, crossing his legs on the picnic blanket. “Well, now you have my full attention, Miss Watsford.” he remarks, looking her squarely in the face. “What else do you have in that wonderful basket of yours?”
“Well, I remember how much you enjoyed Mum’s cherry pie when we had Sunday roast with them,” Edith begins, lifting the right trap on the basket. “So I thought I’d make it for us as a treat.”
She carefully lifts out her cherry pie and places it on the blanket next to the platter of sandwiches. The golden lattice across the top appears even more golden in the sunlight, the rich red stewed cherry innards peeking through the pastry, sparking like jewels.
“What a treat!” gasps Frank, clapping his hands in sheer delight. “You really do make me feel like a king, Edith!”
“I’m pleased you like it, Frank. It may not be the champagne and caviar that Miss Lettice has in her picnic basket, but at least it is all home made with love from me.”
“And it will taste all the better for it.” Frank puts the rest of the dainty cheese and tomato sandwich triangle into his mouth and chews it happily.
*When we think of thermos flasks these days we are often reminded of the plaid and gawdy floral varieties that existed in the 1950s, 60s and 70s. Invented in 1892 by Sir James Dewar, a scientist at Oxford University, the "vacuum flask" was not manufactured for commercial use until 1904, when two German glass blowers formed Thermos GmbH. They held a contest to name the "vacuum flask" and a resident of Munich submitted "Thermos", which came from the Greek word "Therme" meaning "hot". In 1907, Thermos GmbH sold the Thermos trademark rights to three independent companies: The American Thermos Bottle Company of Brooklyn, New York; Thermos Limited of Tottenham, England; Canadian Thermos Bottle Co. Ltd. of Montreal, Canada. The three Thermos companies operated independently of each other, yet developed the Thermos vacuum flask into a widely sought after product that was taken on many famous expeditions, including: Schackelton's trip to the South Pole; Lieutenant Robert E. Peary's trip to the Arctic; Colonel Roosevelt's expedition to Mombassa and into the heart of the African Congo with Richard Harding Davis. It even became airborne when the Wright Brothers took it up in their airplane and Count Zepplin carried it up in his air balloon.
**In Britain in the 1920s, napkin was originally an upper-class term and serviette lower-class. Today, however, napkin is the most commonly used word across the board.
**A wallflower, as well as being a species of flower is also an informal description of a person, usually a woman or young girl, who has no one to dance with or who feels shy, awkward, or excluded at a party.
***The Angel, one of the oldest Rotherhithe pubs, is now in splendid isolation in front of the remains of Edward III's mansion on the Thames Path at the western edge of Rotherhithe. The site was first used when the Bermondsey Abbey monks used to brew beer which they sold to pilgrims. It is located at 24 Rotherhithe St, opposite Execution Dock in Wapping. It has two storeys, plus an attic. It is built of multi-coloured stock brick with a stucco cornice and blocking course. The ground floor frontage is made of wood. There is an area of segmental arches on the first floor with sash windows, and it is topped by a low pitched slate roof. Its Thames frontage has an unusual weatherboarded gallery on wooden posts. The interior is divided by wooden panels into five small rooms. In the early 20th Century its reputation and location attracted local artists including Augustus John and James Abbott McNeil Whistler. In the 1940s and 50s it became a popular destination for celebrities including Laurel and Hardy. Today its customers are local residents, tourists and people walking the Thames Path.
****’Bell Boy 13’ is a 1923 American silent comedy film directed by William A. Seiter, and starring Douglas MacLean, John Steppling, Margaret Loomis, William Courtright, Emily Gerdes, and Eugene Burr. College graduate Harry Elrod (Douglas MacLean) wishes to marry actress Kitty Clyde (Margaret Loomis), but his Uncle Ellrey Elrod (John Steppling) has picked out Angela Fish (Emily Gerdes) as a wife for his nephew. Harry arranges an elopement with Kitty. His uncle's suspicions are aroused and he trails Harry continuously. Miss Fish and her father the Reverend Doctor Wilbur Fish (William Courtright) call. Harry in desperation starts a fire in his room. He is rescued by the fire brigade and then stages a run through the streets in the fire chief's car, intending to catch another train and follow Kitty. He escapes the pursuing firemen, boards the train, and arrives safely at the Philadelphia hotel where Kitty will meet him. There he finds that she has changed her mind, coming to believe that he must have his uncle's consent. He then receives a telegram from his uncle, disowning him. Broke, Harry takes a job as a hotel bell boy. In uniform, he enters where Kitty is dining with Mr. Haskell, her press agent, and sits down, but is dragged away by the indignant hotel manager. Uncle Ellrey comes to the hotel but is shown the wrong room by Harry, so he demands that Harry be fired. The manager, ever ready to make a guest happy, is ready to oblige him, but Harry turns Bolshevist and induces the entire hotel staff to go on strike. The end result is that the uncle is defeated, and Harry wins Kitty.
*****The Premier Super Cinema in East Ham was opened on the 12th of March, 1921, replacing the 800 seat capacity 1912 Premier Electric Theatre. The new cinema could seat 2,408 patrons. The Premier Super Cinema was taken over by Provincial Cinematograph Theatres who were taken over by Gaumont British in February 1929. It was renamed the Gaumont from 21st April 1952. The Gaumont was closed by the Rank Organisation on 6th April 1963. After that it became a bingo hall and remained so until 2005. Despite attempts to have it listed as a historic building due to its relatively intact 1921 interior, the Gaumont was demolished in 2009.
******The Hammersmith Palais de Danse, in its last years simply named Hammersmith Palais, was a dance hall and entertainment venue in Hammersmith, London, England that operated from 1919 until 2007. It was the first palais de danse to be built in Britain.
*******Charles Douglas MacLean was born in Philadelphia on the 10th of January, 1890. After working as a bond salesman, MacLean enrolled in the American Academy of Dramatic Arts and later played juvenile leads in repertory theatre and performed as supporting characters in major stage productions such as Peter Pan starring Maude Adams. His first film was the 1914 production ‘As Ye Sow’ with Alice Brady, followed by bit parts in ‘Fuss and Feathers’ and in two Mary Pickford features, ‘Captain Kidd, Jr.’ and ‘Johanna Enlists’. He went on to appear with Dorothy Gish in ‘The Hun Within’, and he co-starred with Doris May in the romantic comedy ‘23 1/2 Hours' Leave’, which was a big hit. From 1922 to 1929 he starred in fourteen other features for Paramount and First National, all maintaining the standard light romantic comedy formula that continued to prove successful for him. During his film career, he was often billed as "The Man With the Million Dollar Smile". In 1929 he was cast in his only "talkie", ‘Divorce Made Easy’; he then retired from acting. He went on to work as a producer and screenwriter in the sound era. He died on the 9th of July, 1967.
Beautiful as it may be, this picturesque and delicious looking picnic on the lawns may not be all it seems, for it is in fact made up of miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The wicker picnic basket that Bert brought home for Edith. In truth it is not Australian made, but was made by an unknown miniature artisan in America. The floral patterns on the top have been hand painted. The hinged lids lift, just like a real hamper, so things can be put inside. It came with some miniature handmade placemats and napkins inside including the two yellow napkins sitting next to the plate.
The plate of sandwiches on the gilt plate and the cherry pie covered in fine pastry lattice were made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination.
The Delftware plates are part of a 1:12 size miniature porcelain dinner set which I acquired from a seller in America through E-Bay. The cutlery came from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the United Kingdom. The bottle of milk came from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The Thermos flask came as part of another picnic set I acquired from a miniatures collector through E-Bay.
The picnic blanket being used is in reality a corner of one of my gingham shirts, which my partner derisively calls my “picnic blanket shirt”. The grass in the background is real, as this scene was photographed on my front lawn during the height of summer, on a partially sunny day. You can see my front fence in the distance.
