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 beneath the streets, pavements and private squares of Mayfair in the brightly lit London Underground railway station of Down Street*, with its white and green tiled walls, decorated with advertisements and maps of the London Underground. It is here on a wooden bench that they share with a rather dowdy and overweight matron that Edith, Lettice’s maid, and her best friend and fellow maid, Hilda, await the next train to take them down the Piccadilly line to Leicester Square along with a smattering of other passengers milling around the railway station with their luggage. Hilda works as a live-in maid just around the corner from Cavendish Mews in Hill Street for Lettice’s married friends, Margot and Dickie Channon. However, Edith and Hilda met one another at their previous employer, Mrs. Plaistow’s, Pimlico townhouse where the two shared a cold and uncomfortable attic bedroom. In spite of the fact that they are both working for different people now, the girls remain the very best of friends, and catch up frequently.
It is Wednesday, and both Edith and Hilda have Wednesday afternoons off. They usually do something together on their midweek afternoons off, like go shopping for haberdashery, take refreshments in a respectable and reasonably priced tea room, or on warm spring days like today, visit a public park and just chat, enjoying one another’s company. Yet today, although they are both destined for Leicester Square Railway Station, they are going in separate directions. Edith has been invited by her beau, Frank Leadbetter, local delivery boy for Mr. Willison’s Grocery in Binney Street, Mayfair, to join him for a special surprise of some kind at Clapham Junction where she has agreed to meet him.
“So where do you think you’re going, then, Edith?” Hilda asks with keen and inquisitive eyes as she sits on the wooden bench next to her best friend. She nudges her lightly with her elbow and smiles conspiratorially. “What’s the surprise?”
“At first I thought we might be going to Clapham Common** for a picnic.” Edith replies a little uncertainly.
“But now you’re unsure.” Hilda remarks, completing Edith’s unspoken thought.
“I am, Hilda.”
“Why? What makes you think otherwise?”
“Well, for a start, what do I have with me to carry?” Edith asks.
Hilda glances down at Edith’s lap where her usual green leather handbag nestles comfortably across her neat black skirt, whilst in Edith’s net lace gloved left hand she holds her usual, battered black umbrella that has probably seen one too many London winter rainstorms. Her face crumples.
“Exactly!” Edith opines. “No picnic basket, no ribbon sandwiches and no thermos*** of tea.”
“Frank could be providing them, Edith.” Hilda ventures.
Edith snorts derisively. “I doubt that very much! Frank’s a good man, but he certainly doesn’t know how to cook, and from everything he tells me about his landlady and her daughter, I doubt either of them would be charitable enough to make him a picnic lunch.” She screws up her nose at the thought. “And even if they did, I somehow don’t think I’d fancy whatever they would have as their picnic fare.”
“Remember when we came back from our overnight visit to Manchester, and he brought us some tea and oranges?”
“Oh, I know Frank can make tea, but a couple of discarded oranges from Mr. Willison’s is hardly a picnic lunch.”
“Ahem!” The older woman on the bench next to them clears her throat noisily causing both maid to glance at her.
Taking up more than her fair share of the wooden railway bench, the portly woman with a rather disapproving jowly face is squeezed into a dark coat that is firstly too small for her, judging by the gapes in the fabric between the buttons, and secondly is unseasonal for the warm May weather, as is her matching black cloche hat. Her knitting needles clack noisily as she makes something in mustard yellow. At her feet rests her beaded handbag and a basket full of groceries. The girls glance at one another and wonder whether she is a customer of Mr. Willison’s Grocery in Binney Street where Frank works and where their mistress’ both have accounts. Hilda nods shallowly at Edith who returns her nod: their silent agreement not to mention Mr. Willison’s establishment in earshot of this woman again, who may well be the cook or maid of one of his customers. The last thing either girl wants is for Frank to get into trouble, or worse yet lose his position as delivery boy and sometimes window dresser. Whilst the oranges that they ate that day were sweet and juicy, Edith cannot guarantee that Frank actually bought them for she and Hilda. He may have taken a few that were not suitable for sale in the shop and sat in the back room. That might make them fair game for Frank, but Mr. Willison would doubtless have other ideas.
“And anyway,” Edith goes on. “Frank asked me to wear my good white blouse with the Peter Pan collar*** and the mother-of-pearl buttons. It’s not exactly picnic wear, Hilda.”
“There’s nothing wrong with dressing up for a picnic, Edith.”
“I know there isn’t, but the fact that Frank asked me to wear it specifically, and he knows it is a blouse I reserve for more special occasions, suggests that we’re not going on a picnic.”
“Well, perhaps it’s another kind of special occasion.” Hilda offers. “Hasn’t he told us before that he has a friend who runs a restaurant?” She ponders for a moment, ruminating. “Yes, an Italian restaurant as I recall!”
“Yes, that’s his friend Giuseppe,” Edith concurs. “But he has a restaurant up the Islington*****, not in Clapham Junction.”
“And you don’t think his landlady would host a lunch for you in her front parlour, Edith? Some landladies do, you know.”
“Not Mrs. Chapman!” Edith scoffs dismissively. “From everything Frank has told me about her, she’s a real tartar******, and she wouldn’t countenance any female guests of her lodgers in her front room.”
“Ahem!” the old woman next to Hilda clears her throat again, this time glancing up from her gnashing stitches, looking critically at Hilda and Edith over the tops of her horn-rimmed spectacles before returning her attentions to her knitting with a tight and disapproving pout.
Edith and Hilda roll their eyes at one another.
“Well maybe it’s another restaurant he wants to take you to, then, Edith.” Hilda suggests. “Clapham Junction has some lovely shops, like Arding and Hobbs*******, so there are bound to be some nice restaurants and tea rooms up Lavender Hill********.”
“Maybe.” Edith muses. “I can’t think what else we could be doing. However liberated Frank might be in his thinking, I can’t see he and I walking through Arding and Hobbs together whilst I buy thread and trims.” She giggles.
Hilda joins her friend, chuckling lightly as well at the thought of Frank going around the drapery store. “Perhaps not, Edith.” She laughs a little more before adding, “Maybe he’s going to take you shopping for a wedding ring, finally. There are lots of jewellers along Lavender Hill too.”
Edith pulls a face. “Oh, I very much doubt that! The last time we looked at jewellery in the window of Schwar’s********* up the Elephant********** we had the fiercest row over wedding rings.”
“Well, didn’t your…” Hilda pauses mid-sentence and quickly glances at the disapproving matron with her deeply set frown as she knits intensely, before lowering her voice slightly. “Your Madam Fortune…”
“Madame Fortuna.” Edith corrects her friend politely.
“Madame Fortuna. Well, didn’t she tell you that Frank was going to pop the question soon?”
“Hilda Clerkenwell!” Edith gasps in a mixture of surprise and incredulity, her eyes widening as she does. “You told me that you don’t believe in all that ‘mumbo-jumbo fortune telling’!”
“Well, I don’t.” Hilda defends. “I believe in cold hard facts, but you obviously do believe all that mumbo-jumbo if you went to see her.” She shakes her head at her friend in mild disapproval. “Didn’t you tell me that she’d said he would propose soon.”
“Before the year was out, was what she said.”
“Humph!” Hilda snorts. “Suitably vague for a charlatan.”
“Madame Fortuna was not a charlatan!” Edith hotly defends Mrs. Fenchurch, the ‘discreet clairvoyant’ in Swiss Cottage*********** with whom she corresponded via Box Z 1245, The Times, E.C.4., and finally went to see a few weeks ago.
“So you say.” Hilda mumbles self-righteously.
“Anyway, we’re only in May. Why should it be today?”
“Why shouldn’t it be?” Hilda eyes her friend suspiciously before adding, “You’ve changed your tune, Edith. Whatever is the matter?”
“Oh nothing.” Edith flaps her hand dismissively at Hilda. “I just…” She sighs heavily. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.” She glances guiltily into her friend’s pudgy, concerned face. “I was for a while. After Frank and I spoke about getting married, I kept hoping he’d ask me whenever we went to the Premier in East Ham************ to watch a moving picture, or when we would go dancing at the Hammersmith Palais*************, but I’ve been waiting in vain. It’s disappointing.”
“Oh, I’m sure it is, Edith!”
“So, I just try to temper my wishes and stop getting my hopes up. I only get hurt when he doesn’t.”
“But he will, Edith.” Hilda assures her friend, reaching out her hands and squeezing Edith’s comfortingly. “I know he will!”
“How do you know, Hilda.”
“I told you, Edith. I’m a firm believer in cold, hard facts. And one thing I know for certain fact is that Frank is every bit as mad for you as you are for him. He’ll propose soon enough, and that’s a fact too.” Hilda nods seriously. “You mark my words, rather than Madame Fortuna’s.”
“Do you know what’s going on?” Edith gasps. “Has Frank said anything to you about today when he was delivering groceries to you?”
“Goodness me, no!” Hilda retorts quickly. “If I knew what you were doing today, why on earth would I ask you?”
“It could be part of some elaborate ruse.” Edith cannot help but betray the hope that today might be the day that Frank proposes as it causes her bright blue eyes to sparkle a little more and for a smile to tease the corners of her mouth as a flush fills her cheeks.
Hilda shakes her head again. “You’ve been reading too many of those Madeline St John romance novels, Edith! The world isn’t made up of sweeping, grandiose admissions of love: especially not now, with a dearth of young men after the war took so many of them away.”
“No. No, of course not! How foolish of me.” Edith replies, guilt filling her face as she remembers how her friend has no young man at all to step out with in her life. “Forgive me Hilda. I’m so thoughtless.”
“No you aren’t, Edith.” Hilda replies kindly with a dismissive wave of her own. “You’re just anxious, and wound up with the idea of getting married is all. Who wouldn’t be? I’d be the same if I were in your shoes.”
“No, I should be more considerate of your situation, Hilda.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tread around on eggshells************** on my account, Edith. I’m fine.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve met a nice young man, have you?”
“Pshaw!” Hilda mutters dismissively. “I haven’t even met a not-so-nice young man.”
Hilda gives her friend a doubtful look, and they both laugh good-naturedly, but their laughter is tinged with a little sadness. Edith still hopes that her best friend will one day meet a young man, or even an older one, who will meet her desires for an intelligent match, and form a loving relationship with him.
“Hasn’t Mrs. Minkin tried to match you up with a young man of her acquaintance?” Edith asks, referring to the old Jewess whom both she and Hilda visit when they shop of haberdashery in Whitechapel, and whose knitting circle Hilda has joined.
“It’s a bit hard when you aren’t Jewish.” Hilda remarks with a tone of despondence. “I’m one of the few women there who isn’t. Rachel Katz has a rather serious and studious elder brother who is unmarried, but their mother would never consider someone who wasn’t of their faith for him.”
“Oh, what a pity, Hilda.” Edith consoles her friend.
“It’s not a pity at all.” Hilda giggles in reply, surprising Edith.
“It isn’t?” Edith queries with a perplexed look.
“I’ve never met him, so he could be ugly, or beastly, or both, or simply not to my liking!” Hilda says matter-of-factly. “I’d rather be a spinster than marry a man I don’t love. I don’t understand how some women can do that.”
“Oh, I agree, Hilda!” Edith replies eagerly. “Don’t get married until you find the one, and yes, marry for love and nothing less.”
“Like you are with Frank.”
Edith smiles at her friend. “Don’t worry Hilda. Your Frank is out there somewhere.”
“Well, I just wish he’d bloody well hurry up and find me!” Hilda replies with a cheeky smile.
Both girls take a sideways glance at the matron on the bench next to them.
“Ahem!” she clears her throat loudly, pointedly expressing her disapproval of Hilda’s choice to swear, and her knitting becomes more fervent as she refuses to look at either Hilda or Edith, the furrows in her brow growing deeper and the scowl on her face becoming more pronounced.
“So where are you going to go then, whilst, I am going to my as of yet unknown destination with Frank in Clapham Junction, Hilda?” Edith asks. “The sales perhaps?”
“Good heavens no! I only just tolerate the department stores when I’m with you, Edith.” Hilda retorts. “No, I have a far more enticing assignation.”
“Assignation!” Edith gasps. “With whom? You just said you weren’t stepping out with anyone!”
“I’m not!” Hilda laughs. “I’m going to the British Museum*************** to see the Rosetta Stone**************** since it seems the whole of London has been gripped by Tutmania****************. I’ve never seen it, and now, I want to.”
Just at that moment with the thunder and rattle of its engine and the squeal of breaks, the Piccadilly line train with its brown painted carriages noisily enters Down Street railway station before coming to a juddering halt.
Edith, Hilda and the plump, grumpy matron in the undersized coat and cloche join the small number of other passengers boarding the train.
“I hope she isn’t going to the British Museum too.” Hilda remarks, nodding at the elderly lady as she waddles away from the two maids with her heavy basket of groceries in one hand and her blue beaded handbag with her knitting needles sticking out of it in the other, determined to sit in a different carriage to them.
“She looks more like she’ll come to Clapham Junction with me!” Edith giggles. “Let’s hope not. Come on.”
The two girls nimbly step aboard the carriage directly in front of them as the engine gently idles beneath them, making it thrum with a soothing vibration. Closing the door behind them, the guard at the end of the train blows his whistle shrilly, and as Edith and Hilda take two seats, the train jerks and commences the journey on to Dover Street railway station, Piccadilly Circus and Leicester Square as the pair head off on their Wednesday afternoon adventures.
*Down Street, is a disused station on the London Underground, located in Mayfair. The Great Northern, Piccadilly and Brompton Railway opened it in 1907. It was latterly served by the Piccadilly line and was situated between Dover Street (now named Green Park) and Hyde Park Corner stations. The station was little used; many trains passed through without stopping. Lack of patronage and proximity to other stations led to its closure in 1932. During the Second World War it was used as a bunker by the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, and the war cabinet. The station building survives and is close to Down Street's junction with Piccadilly.
**At over eighty-five hectares in size, Clapham Common is one of London’s largest, and oldest, public open spaces, situated between Clapham, Battersea and Balham. Clapham Common is mentioned as far back as 1086 in the famous Domesday Book, and was originally ‘common land’ for the Manors of Battersea and Clapham. Tenants of the Lords of the Manors, could graze their livestock, collect firewood or dig for clay and other minerals found on site. However, as a result of increasing threats from encroaching roads and housing developments, it was acquired in 1877 by the Metropolitan Board of Works, and designated a “Metropolitan Common”, which gives it protection from loss to development and preserves its open character.
***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.
****A Peter Pan collar is a style of clothing collar, flat in design with rounded corners. It is named after the collar of Maude Adams's costume in her 1905 role as Peter Pan, although similar styles had been worn before this date. Peter Pan collars were particularly fashionable during the 1920s and 1930s.
*****The Italian quarter of London, known commonly today as “Little Italy” is an Italian ethnic enclave in London. Little Italy’s core historical borders are usually placed at Clerkenwell Road, Farringdon Road and Rosebery Avenue - the Saffron Hill area of Clerkenwell. Clerkenwell spans Camden Borough and Islington Borough. Saffron Hill and St. Peter’s Italian Catholic Church fall within the Camden side. However, even though this was the traditional enclave for Italians, immigrants moved elsewhere in London, bleeding into areas like Islington and Soho where they established bars, cafes and restaurants which sold Italian cuisine and wines.
******A tartar is a bad-tempered or aggressively assertive person, typically a woman, and is based upon the hard crust of calcium salts and food particles on the teeth which is known as tartar.
*******Arding and Hobbs was established in 1876. A second store was established on the corner of Falcon Road, Battersea, known as the Falcon Road Drapery Store, but this was sold to former employees Mr. Hunt & Mr. Cole in 1894. The original building was destroyed by a fire on 20 December 1909. The present building at the junction of Lavender Hill and St John's Road in Battersea was constructed in 1910 in an Edwardian Baroque style, and the architect was James Gibson. The department store was sold to the John Anstiss Group in 1938, however, John Anstiss was purchased by United Drapery Stores in 1948. The store was added to the Allders group in the 1970s and continued to operate until Allders went into administration in 2005. The building was subsequently broken up and sold, with the building split between a branch of Debenhams department store and TK Maxx retail.
********Lavender Hill is a bustling high street serving residents of Clapham Junction, Battersea and beyond. Until the mid Nineteenth Century, Battersea was predominantly a rural area with lavender and asparagus crops cultivated in local market gardens. Hence, it’s widely thought that Lavender Hill was named after Lavender Hall, built in the late Eighteenth Century, where lavender grew on the north side of the hill.
*********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.
**********The London suburb of Elephant and Castle, south of the Thames, past Lambeth was known as "the Piccadilly Circus of South London" because it was such a busy shopping precinct. When you went shopping there, it was commonly referred to by Londoners, but South Londoners in particular, as “going up the Elephant”.
***********According to the Dictionary of London Place Names, the district of Swiss Cottage is named after an inn called The Swiss Tavern that was built in 1804 in the style of a Swiss chalet on the site of a former tollgate keeper's cottage, and later renamed Swiss Inn and in the early 20th century Swiss Cottage.
************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.
**************The idiom "walk on eggshells" meaning to be extremely cautious or careful, likely originated from the imagery of eggshells being fragile and easily broken when stepped on. The original, Eighteenth Century version was to “tread on eggs,” which the Oxford English Dictionary defines as “to walk warily, as on delicate ground.” The only two citations for the whole-egg version in the Oxford English Dictionary are from the same author, Roger North, and appear in biographical works he published around 1734.
***************The British Museum is a public museum dedicated to human history, art and culture located in the Bloomsbury area of London. Its permanent collection of eight million works is the largest in the world. It documents the story of human culture from its beginnings to the present. Established in 1753, the British Museum was the first public national museum.
****************The Rosetta Stone is a stele of granodiorite inscribed with three versions of a decree issued in 196 BC during the Ptolemaic dynasty of Egypt, on behalf of King Ptolemy V Epiphanes. The top and middle texts are in Ancient Egyptian using hieroglyphic and Demotic scripts, respectively, while the bottom is in Ancient Greek. The decree has only minor differences across the three versions, making the Rosetta Stone key to deciphering the Egyptian scripts.
*****************"Tutmania" refers to the widespread global fascination and cultural impact that followed the discovery of King Tutankhamun's tomb in 1922, sparking a surge in interest in ancient Egypt and its artifacts over the next few years.
This London Underground scene may look like one you could just walk into and sit down in, but it is not all that it seems, for it is in fact made up entirely with pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
Fun thing to look for in this tableau include:
The travel advertisement, sale advert and London Underground map along the tiled wall are all 1:12 size posters made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Ken is known mostly for the 1:12 miniature books he created. I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but he also produced other items, including posters. All of these are genuine copies of real inter-war Art Deco travel posters put out by the different British railways to promote travelling on them. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make these items miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
Edith’s green handbag and Hilda’s brown one are handmade from soft leather is part of a larger collection of hats and bags that I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The black umbrella came from an online stockist of 1:12 miniatures on E-Bay.
The basket I acquired from beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. In the basket are some very lifelike looking fruit and vegetables. The apples are made of polymer clay are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany. The leaves of lettuce are artisan made of very thin sheets of clay and are beautifully detailed. I acquired them from an auction house some twenty years ago as part of a lot made up of miniature artisan food. There are also several jars, one of Silver Shred Marmalade and one of P.C. Flett & Co Plum Jam, and a box of Hudson’s Soap, all made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire, with great attention to detail paid to their labels and the shapes of their jars.
Silver Shred lime marmalade still exists today and is a common household brand both in Britain and Australia. They are produced by Robertson’s. Robertson’s Golden Shred recipe perfected since 1874 is a clear and tangy orange marmalade, which according to their modern day jars is “perfect for Paddington’s marmalade sandwiches”. Robertson’s Silver Shred is a clear, tangy, lemon flavoured shredded marmalade. Robertson’s marmalade dates back to 1874 when Mrs. Robertson started making marmalade in the family grocery shop in Paisley, Scotland.
P.C. Flett and Company was established in Kirkwall in the Orkney Islands by Peter Copeland Flett. He had inherited a small family owned ironmongers in Albert Street Kirkwall, which he inherited from his maternal family. He had a shed in the back of the shop where he made ginger ale, lemonade, jams and preserves from local produce. By the 1920s they had an office in Liverpool, and travelling representatives selling jams and preserves around Great Britain. I am not sure when the business ceased trading.
Robert Spear Hudson invented the first dry soap powder, "Hudson's Dry Soap" in 1837 in his small pharmacy in West Bromwich, England, moving to Liverpool in the 1880s. He advertised extensively, first locally and then nationally, as his business and use of his products grew. The firm was taken over by Lever Brothers Ltd. (now part of Unilever) in 1908. The soap's use for cleaning the nursery floor (leaving the room "sweetened and purified"), baths, feeding bottles and on linen is boasted about on some small boxes on the reverse.
The beaded handbag is also a 1:12 artisan miniature. Hand crocheted, it is interwoven with antique blue glass beads that are two millimetres in diameter. The beads of the handle are three millimetres in length.
All the luggage you see on the platform are artisan pieces made by different unknown artists. All of them I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United kingdom. The fawn coloured parasol and Mary Poppins style parrot head umbrella are also artisan miniatures and were acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop as was the knitting which sits on the bench. The silver knobbed walking stick is also a 1:12 artisan miniature. The top is sterling silver. It was made by the Little Green Workshop in England who specialise in high end, high quality miniatures.
The bench is made by Town Hall Miniatures, and acquired through E-Bay.
