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 are east of Cavendish Mews and South of the Thames, past Lambeth to what is known as "the Piccadilly Circus of South London" the busy shopping precinct of Elephant and Castle. It is here that Edith, Lettice’s maid, and her sweetheart, grocer’s boy, Frank Leadbetter, have come for a wander and window shop together. With Lettice still staying with her family at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, Edith has a little more free time than usual, so she and Frank are taking advantage of the opportunity to spend a little bit of extra time together. Edith also wants to visit Elephant and Castle because there are so many shops in close proximity of one another, and unlike many of the retailers north of the Thames, the prices of goods are cheaper. As she plans for a future with Frank, Edith now has her eye on household goods. Emerging from the Elephant and Castle Underground Railway Station, the young couple pass the grand domed and turreted edifice of the Elephant and Castle Estate Building* built of red brick with Portland stone dressings and granite columns, and slowly wander up Walworth Road, a busy thoroughfare congested in both directions with all forms of traffic. The road is lined with two and three storey Victorian terraces with shops all along the street level, many covered by canvas awnings, with red and white ‘blood and bandages’** pointed arches and bay windows on the floors above. The footpaths on both sides of the road are busy with chattering shoppers and browsers: couples like them, mothers and their children, well-to-do suburban housewives and gentlemen in overcoats and hats, all bustling and milling about, walking in and out of establishments and admiring the goods proudly on display in the shop windows.
As they walk along Walworth Road, dark clouds roil overhead, swirling about, obscuring the light and tumbling over themselves as the weather takes a turn for the worst.
“Looks like the weather is making a turn for the worst.” Frank remarks, looking up and squinting at the threatening sky overhead.
“Looks like you’re right!” Edith agrees, grabbing hold of the hem of her plum coloured skirt and black three-quarter length winter coat as a sudden gust of cold wind snatches them and whips at them. “A real storm is brewing.”
As Edith and Frank snuggle closer together as they walk along the footpath, hugging the shop windows and doorways they pass, they watch as people hurry along the pavement around them in either direction, their heads bowed down into their collars, or their trilbies and cloches pulled low over their heads to protect them from the wind as their hurried footsteps scurry along the slick paving stones already wettened by an earlier shower. Umbrellas start to appear at the ready in glove glad hands amidst the bags of shopping being carried. Newspapers and other light pieces of rubbish tumble and dance down the footpaths, gaily skipping past them or wheeling and diving amidst the traffic of the noisy thoroughfare skipping between chugging motor cars, lorries and the constant stream of double decker electrical trams and the occasional horse drawn cart with placid plodding old work horses unperturbed by the belching of their mechanical usurpers or the inclement weather.
As a large drop of rain strikes Edith’s shoulder, she unfurls her rather battered old black umbrella. “I don’t know if this will survive the storm, Frank.” she admits.
“Come on!” Frank hisses. “Let’s take shelter over there!” He points a little further along the Walworth Road to a white and russet striped awning hanging over a brightly illuminated window of a two storey Victorian building.
The pair dash along the footpath, joining the game of dodging other pedestrians until they reach their destination, just as a clap of thunder erupts noisily from above, the sound unleashing a torrent of rain. Edith gasps and draws closer to Frank as the heavy downpour hammers the paving stones, splashing off them and splattering Edith’s best pair of black kid cross strap shoes and tan toned stocking clad legs exposed from beneath the hem of her coat. The wind blows the ruffled edges of the awning, sending a shower of droplets hanging from its hem into the air, however in spite of that, the awning provides enough shelter for them to keep relatively dry.
A middle aged man in a camel coloured overcoat and white polka dot blue scarf taking shelter with them tips his trilby politely at Frank and Edith when they catch his eye. “Lovely weather for ducks.***” he remarks with a gentle smile.
“Yes indeed!” Frank agrees and Edith nods her consensus.
“I think this is one of the best places to be, if one must be caught out of doors in weather like this.” the middle aged man opines, to which both Edith and Frank nod in acknowledgement.
Not really wanting to engage in conversation with the gentleman, Edith turns away from him and looks through the window of the shop whose awning they are sheltering under, and to her delight, she discovers that it is a jewellery shop. “Oh look Frank!” she gasps.
Turning around to join her and observe what she has seen, Frank bears witness to the beautiful sight of the display through the plate glass window on which the name Schwar & Co**** is written in ornate gilt copperplate. Unlike the cold and grey day, the window exudes warmth as light from within is reflected off beautiful pieces of gold jewellery. Stands draped with golden chains and sautoirs***** jostle for space with pads of red and blue velvet upon which are pinned brooches and bracelets, whilst in others, jewel studded rings wink and glitter coquettishly. Edith gasps as she spies first an emerald ring surrounded by diamonds, then a sapphire and diamond one. She smiles with delight. Frank points out a beautiful silk lined Travel de Nécessaire****** commenting on its ornate gold and enamel lidded jars, whilst Edith indicates to a beautifully bevelled hand mirror and brush set.
“Just look at those diamonds!” Edith gasps as she spies a necklace of winking, brilliant stones draped along the black velvet lined shelf of the window.
“I wish I could buy it for you, Edith.” Frank remarks looking at it with eyes agog as it shimmers and sparkles against the black.
“Oh Frank!” Edith scoffs, her greyish purple glove clad left hand coming to rest on his lower right arm affectionately. “Where would I ever wear such a thing, even if you could afford it?”
“Buckingham Palace!” Frank booms, with a sweeping gesture, laughing good naturedly as he does. “You could wear it the next time the King and Queen invite you to tea.”
Edith’s girlish giggles join Frank’s bolder chortles as they laugh over the idea of Edith, a humble domestic, being entertained at Buckingham Palace by the imperious monarchs.
Frank’s eyes flit from a small brooch of gold set with pearls pinned to a lace fichu******* draped over a display stand to a small selection of brooches near the front of the window: the latter gold with either pearls or amethysts set in them.
“That looks like Prince Albert!” Edith remarks, pointing to a large profile of a serious man carved in white against a creamy dusky pink background set in an ornate gold frame.
Frank looks closely at it before stating, “I think it may be.”
“It’s beautifully carved.” Edith observes.
“I’d say it’s a large cameo******** carved from agate.”
“You’re so knowledgeable, Frank.” Edith remarks with a sigh of admiration. “How do you know all the things you do?”
“I read a lot, Edith. You know that! I want to better myself, and the best way to do that is to gain knowledge.” Frank says proudly. “So, I make sure I use what little free time I have, not spent with you, being well read. There’s an old saying you know – a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing – which implies that people who are but a little informed could be dangerous and foolish, so I aim to make sure that I am more than a little informed.”
“I admire you for that, Frank.” Edith acknowledges her beau. “You read serious books and build up your knowledge.” She sighs with frustration. “Whereas all I seem to find the time or energy to read after a day’s hard graft are books about cooking or romance novels like those by Madeline St John.”
“Well, that’s good too, Edith!” Frank assures her.
“Not when you compare it to the things you read, and the things you know, Frank.”
“But as I’ve said before, Edith, we’re all good at different things, and you know how to make a cake, which is more than I know how to do! What could be more important than knowing how to feed people, Edith?” Frank says, pulling his sweetheart close to him by wrapping his right hand around her right forearm and embracing her comfortingly.
“Yes, but you know so many more important things, Frank: things about the world, like political and social ideas, which I know very little to nothing about. They’re more important than cake recipes, or how to mend a sagging hem.”
“There are plenty of politicians who think that what they say, and who they are, are important, Edith, but I can assure you that they aren’t.” Frank replies sagely.
“Oh, you know what I mean, Frank. I’m not very political. Not like you.” Edith remarks flippantly to Frank, yet at the same time she self-consciously toys with her blonde waves poking out from beneath her black dyed straw cloche as she speaks. “I mean, I know you’ve tried to teach me, but I can’t help it. I get confused between the parties and what they all stand for.”
“You aren’t alone in that, Edith.” Frank assures her. “Politicians are a breed of people who aim to bamboozle with their words.”
“Well, I’m relieved to hear that.” Edith admits.
“It doesn’t matter, Edith! You’re wonderful enough as you are, and there are things that you understand and are far better at than I’ll ever be. You might think that they are inconsequential, domestic things, but they aren’t! I’m no good to myself because I can’t cook. I have to rely on Mrs. Chapman, my landlady in Clapham to do that for me, and even if she serves me kippers, which I hate, I have to eat them, because I can’t make anything myself as an alternative. I’m lucky if I can boil the kettle for a good brew!” He chuckles light heartedly.
Edith chuckles along with him, feeling a little better about herself.
Frank looks his sweetheart earnestly in the eye. “One of the reasons why I’ve always admired you, Edith, is because you aren’t some silly giggling Gertie********* like some of the housemaids I’ve known in my time who live around Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico. You aren’t turned by just a handsome face, and your head isn’t filled with moving picture stars and nothing else.”
“Well, I do like moving picture stars too, Frank.” Edith confesses guiltily.
“Oh, I know you do, Edith, and I love you for that too.” Frank reassures her. “But it’s not all there is in there. You have a good head on your shoulders, and you’re wise for your years.” he acknowledges. “Your parents taught you well, and common sense is something a lot of people lack nowadays.”
“Oh thank you Frank.” Edith breathes softly, looking up lovingly into her beau’s face. “Then you aren’t ashamed of me then, just because I’m not the most political person?”
“I’ve said it before, but I’ll happily say it again,” Frank rubs Edith’s arm comfortingly. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you Edith, in any way! How could I ever be ashamed of you? I’m as proud as punch********** to step out with you! You’re my best girl.”
“Oh Frank!” Edith wraps her arms loving around Frank’s waist.
“I only wish I could afford to buy you a nice brooch like that.” He nods at an ornate gold brooch set with a single amethyst. “Purple is your colour.”
“You don’t have to buy me a brooch, Frank!” Edith insists in reply.
“I know, but I’d like to buy you one all the same. It will last longer than a box of Gainsborough Dubarry Milk Chocolates.”
“Mmmm,” Edith smiles and murmurs, “I like them too.”
“Yes, but a pretty brooch would look so nice,” Frank breaks their embrace and holds his sweetheart at arm’s length. He picks up the corner of her left coat lapel. “Pinned here for all the world to see that Frank Leadbetter loves Edith Watsford. It’s quite fashionable to wear brooches these days.”
“You are well informed, Frank.” Edith laughs in surprise. “And you’re right, but really, all I need is one of those on my finger on our wedding day.” She glances back into the jeweller’s window and nods at a pad of shiny gold wedding bands gleaming in the warm light cast from the lights at the top of the window.
“And you’ll get it, Edith,” Frank pauses. “In due course.”
“And when is that going to be?” Edith asks, looking seriously into her beau’s face, trying to read his expression as it causes his face to crumple.
“Well… well… when the time is right, Edith.”
“Isn’t now the right time, Frank?” she asks.
“Well… well of course… it could be.” Frank stammers.
“Could be, Frank?” Edith shudders as she feels someone walk over her grave***********. “What… is that supposed to mean?”
“I just mean I want the timing to be right when I ask you to marry me, Edith. That’s all.”
Edith doesn’t say anything straight away, but finally she gazes up at Frank and asks a little fearfully, “You do want to marry me, don’t you Frank?”
The question makes Frank feel like he has been punched in the stomach.
“Now what kind of a question is that, Edith?” He looks at Edith and sees her face drain of colour as the unshed tears welling in her eyes add a sparkle and glisten to them. “Of course I want to marry you!”
“Well, we’ve been stepping out for a while now, Frank, and you still haven’t asked me to marry you.”
“Well, I haven’t spoken to your dad yet, and asked his permission for your hand, Edith. First thing’s first you know!”
“I know you haven’t!” The tears that have been threatening to spill finally start: one large drop falls off her lash and lands on her left cheek, only to then be matched by one on her right.
“I’m just getting up the courage to ask, is all, Edith.”
“Well, I don’t see why you can’t ask him now. All that business with me agreeing to move to Metroland************ if you are offered an opportunity to manage a suburban grocers is done now. I’ve agreed, so I don’t see why you can’t ask. I know both Mum and Dad were a little disappointed that you didn’t ask them when you came to our New Year’s Eve party in Harlesden.”
“And you obviously were too.” Frank concludes Edith’s unspoken conclusion to the sentence.
When Edith nods shallowly, he sighs.
“I’m sorry Edith. I don’t mean to upset my best girl, and I know this must be difficult for you to understand, but I’m a man of principles. I want to ask your dad for your hand when I think I look most favourable.”
“But that time is now, Frank!” Edith retorts.
“Not for me it isn’t, or not just yet at least. I just want my prospects to look good enough to show that I can provide for you and be a good husband.”
“But they do, Frank, and you will be a good husband. Dad is very pleased with what you are doing to improve your situation at Mr. Willison’s Grocery, and even Mum is slowly coming around to your ideas of wanting to improve your lot in life. They both know that like them, you want the best for me. When will you ask them?”
“Soon.” Frank assures her. “But just not quite yet.”
“I think I need one of those clairvoyants I see adverting discreetly in the newspapers.” Edith mutters as she opens her slightly battered green leather handback and fossicks around inside it, huffing and puffing as she does. “They’ll give me the answers I seek.”
“No you don’t, Edith!” Frank holds her at arm’s length again whilst she dabs at her eyes with the embroidered lace handkerchief she has pulled out.
“You’re dragging your feet, Frank.” she snivels
“No I’m not, Edith. Please!”
“And I don’t see why. I know you want us both to save a little more money, so that we can set up house together, but just because we announce we are engaged, doesn’t mean we have to get married straight away.”
“Perhaps not,” Frank agrees. “But once the cat is out of the bag, well, there is always pressure put on the young couple to set a date.” He looks at her seriously. “Long engagements are not very fashionable, even when they are for all the right reasons.”
“Well,” Edith dabs her reddened nose. “Just don’t wait too long, Frank.”
“I won’t!” he assures her. “I promise. I don’t want us to quarrel over this.”
“Oh I don’t want to quarrel, Frank!” Edith concurs. “I’m just concerned is all.”
“Well you have no need to be, Edith. You’re my best girl, and eventually you will be my best bride.” He smiles broadly, albeit a little remorsefully, feeling bad for putting Edith in the position where she feels so upset about sometjing that should fill her with happiness. “I promise I will ask your dad the moment the time feels right to me.” He turns around and notices that the rain has stopped, with only showers of drips being blown from the ruffled awning edge by the wind now. They now stand alone together beneath the awning, with the man in the camel coat gone whilst they have been talking. “Look, Edith! It’s stopped raining. What’s say we go back to Lyon’s Corner House************* at the top of Tottenham Court Road for a slap up tea?” Edith manages to smile, and like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a storm, it makes Frank glad. “I might not be able to afford a gold and amethyst brooch for you just yet, but I can at least afford that now.”
“Alright Frank.” Edith acquiesces with a sniff. “Let’s do that.”
*The Elephant and Castle Estate Building was a local landmark in the London suburb of Elephant and Castle between its construction in 1898 and when it was damaged and had to be demolished during the Blitz of the Second World War. The block of buildings was designed to cover the site of the Elephant and Castle Hotel, together with the shops adjoining. The estate formed an island amidst the busy junction of major thoroughfares, and was well known in a very conspicuous position, the headway facing the north, and having a frontage to Newington Butts and Walworth Road. The Elephant and Castle Estate Building contained a hotel. Th ground floor of the hotel was divided into a saloon, luncheon, private and public bars, and the basement had a three-table billiard-room and cellarage accommodation. On the first floor were a double table billiard-room and large dining room, whilst on the second and third floors, fourteen bedrooms and two large sitting-rooms, and on the top floor kitchen and domestic offices and four bedrooms. The rest of the large and conspicuous building was occupied by nine lock-up shops on the ground floor, with basements. The first floor was approached by a fireproof staircase from Newington Butts, and was designed for three suites of offices. The three upper floors had a fireproof staircase, approached from Walworth-road, and allowed for eight separate suites of residential flats. The building was badly damaged by bombs during the war, along with much of the area around it, and in 1965 the new Elephant and Castle Shopping Centre opened on the site.
**”Blood and Bandages” is an architectural style that was popular before the First World War where buildings are constructed of layers of red brick with intervening white stone dressings. Normally Portland Stone is used for the “bandages”, but in some cases white plaster rendering or tiling was popular. The rather macabre description of the late Victorian style came about as a result of people comparing the striped red and white of the buildings to the blood and bandages seen so commonly during the First World War.
***The expression “lovely weather for ducks” appears to have been in use from the first half of the 19th century. Given its humorous usage it may just be derived from a common reference to the common sight of ducks at ease in the rain.
****Established in 1838 by Andreas Schwar who was a clock and watch maker from Baden in Germany, Schwar and Company on Walworth Road in Elephant and Castle was a watchmaker and jewellers that is still a stalwart of the area today. The shop still retains its original Victorian shopfront with its rounded plate glass windows.
*****A sautoir is a long necklace consisting of a fine gold chain and typically set with jewels.
******A Travel de Nécessaire is an old fashioned style of travelling case. Designed for both men and women they contained necessary toiletry items like brushes, mirrors, button hooks, perfume and eau de cologne bottles, and jars for cosmetics. More elaborate ones could contain such items as travelling sewing kits, notepads, ink bottles, match vestas, hair pin tubes and much more, sometimes consisting of hundreds of items.
*******A fichu (from the French for "thrown over") is a large, square kerchief worn by women to fill in the low neckline of a bodice. It originated in the United Kingdom in the Eighteenth Century and remained popular there and in France through the Nineteenth Century with many variations, as well as in the United States. The fichu was generally of linen fabric or fine lace and was folded diagonally into a triangle and tied, pinned, or tucked into the bodice in front. A fichu is sometimes used with a brooch to conceal the closure of a décolleté neckline. The fichu can thus be fastened in the front, or crossed over the chest.
********A cameo is a material that is carved with a raised relief that often depicts a profile of a face or a mythical scene. Cameos are commonly made out of shell, coral, stone, lava, or glass. Cameo jewellery has varying quality factors including the intricacy of the carving to the quality of the setting.
*********Although obscure as to its origin, the term “giggling Gertie” is of English derivation and was often used in a derisive way to describe silly children and young people, usually girls, who were deemed as being flippant and foolish.
**********Although today we tend to say as “pleased as punch”, the Victorian term which carried on through into the Edwardian era when our story is set, actually began as “proud as punch”. This expression refers to the Punch and Judy puppet character. Punch's name comes from Punchinello, an Italian puppet with similar characteristics. In Punch and Judy shows, the grotesque Punch is portrayed as self-satisfied and pleased with his evil actions.
***********If you suddenly shudder or shiver, for no apparent reason, it is still likely that you will say that 'someone has just walked over your grave', meaning, of course, the site of your future grave. The first known written evidence for this notion is in Jonathan Swift's Polite Conversation from 1738.
************Metroland is a name given to the suburban areas that were built to the north-west of London in the counties of Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Middlesex in the early part of the Twentieth Century that were served by the Metropolitan Railway. The railway company was in the privileged position of being allowed to retain surplus land; from 1919 this was developed for housing by the nominally independent Metropolitan Railway Country Estates Limited (MRCE). The term "Metroland" was coined by the Met's marketing department in 1915 when the Guide to the Extension Line became the Metro-land guide. It promoted a dream of a modern home in beautiful countryside with a fast railway service to central London until the Met was absorbed into the London Passenger Transport Board in 1933.
*************J. Lyons and Co. was a British restaurant chain, food manufacturing, and hotel conglomerate founded in 1884 by Joseph Lyons and his brothers in law, Isidore and Montague Gluckstein. Lyons’ first teashop opened in Piccadilly in 1894, and from 1909 they developed into a chain of teashops, with the firm becoming a staple of the High Street in the United Kingdom. At its peak the chain numbered around two hundred cafes. The teashops provided for tea and coffee, with food choices consisting of hot dishes and sweets, cold dishes and sweets, and buns, cakes and rolls. Lyons' Corner Houses, which first appeared in 1909 and remained until 1977, were noted for their Art Deco style. Situated on or near the corners of Coventry Street, Strand and Tottenham Court Road, they and the Maison Lyonses at Marble Arch and in Shaftesbury Avenue were large buildings on four or five floors, the ground floor of which was a food hall with counters for delicatessen, sweets and chocolates, cakes, fruit, flowers and other products. In addition, they possessed hairdressing salons, telephone booths, theatre booking agencies and at one period a twice-a-day food delivery service. On the other floors were several restaurants, each with a different theme and all with their own musicians. For a time, the Corner Houses were open twenty-four hours a day, and at their peak each branch employed around four hundred staff including their famous waitresses, commonly known as Nippies for the way they nipped in and out between the tables taking orders and serving meals. The tea houses featured window displays, and, in the post-war period, the Corner Houses were smarter and grander than the local tea shops. Between 1896 and 1965 Lyons owned the Trocadero, which was similar in size and style to the Corner Houses.
This beautiful shop window display may look real to you, however, almost everything in this scene is made up with 1:12 size miniatures from my miniatures collection, except for a few select items that just happen to fit in perfectly amongst them!
Fun things to look for in this tableau:
Central to our story, the pad of “Weekend Wedding Rings” is a small artisan piece made by an unknown artist which I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The bras stand with the linen fichu from which the blue necklace hangs also comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop. The gold chain featuring five pointed stars which also hangs from it is one of three pieces of real jewellery I have in this tableau. It is a dainty baby’s bracelet made of nine carat gold that was mine when I was a baby. I still possess it after all these years!
The Victorian cameo of Prince Albert’s profile is a second piece of real jewellery and has only recently been acquired by me. Made in 1862 of shell and set in an ornate gold frame, this tiny cameo is only two centimetres in length, yet it is superbly and intricately carved with his undeniable likeness. This cameo would have been in the top range for its fine details considering its size.
The wooden tree of gold chains standing behind the wedding rings came from Melody Jane’s Dolls’ House Suppliers in the United Kingdom. All the chains are stuck in place along the arms of the tree.
Draped to the right of the cameo is a sparking “diamond” necklace made of tiny strung faceted silver beads. It, the tiny blue bead necklace hanging from the fichu in the background and the three brooches in the foreground in front of the wedding rings and cameo I acquired as part of an artisan jewellery box from a specialist doll house supplier when I was a teenager. Amongst the smallest pieces I have in my collection, the gold and pearl and gold and amethyst brooches, it is really quite amazing that they have not become lost during the many moves I have made over the passing years since I originally bought them.
The Christmas I was ten, I was given the Regency dressing table and a three piece gilt pewter dressing table set consisting of comb, hairbrush and hand mirror, the latter featuring a real piece of mirror set into it. The mirror and hairbrush you can see in the bottom right-hand corner of the photograph. Like the necklaces and brooches, these small pieces have survived the tests of time and never been lost, even though they are tiny.
On the left-hand side of the display, in the background, is a glittering Travel de Nécessaire (travelling case), which is hinged, has an inlaid top and is lined with red velvet. It contains an array of beauty aides any Edwardian woman, or her lady’s maid, would have used including curling tongs (which look like scissors), various perfume bottles, pill boxes and cosmetic jars and a shoe horn as well as a sizable mirror. It has been made by an unknown English artisan. The tiered wooden jewellery box, complete with miniature jewellery, to the right-hand side of the photo in the background, I acquired from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in the United Kingdom.
The small gold lozenge with a leaf motif upon it that you can see in the bottom left-hand corner of the photo is the third and final piece of real jewellery in the tableau. It is a small antique locket of rose gold set with seed pearls (which you cannot see in this shot). Coming from Paris, it was made for me by a jeweller as a birthday gift from some very dear friends.
The white lace in the far background is a piece of real antique lace which has been hand made and came to me from a collector of haberdashery in Dorset.
