Is this even the right place? Sheena Wilkinson

Last week my husband, his three sisters and I set out to walk to their late mother’s home place – the small one-storey farmhouse where she had been born and reared until she married in 1962, in a place known locally, though not on any maps,  as the Muck (which doesn't sound pretty, but possibly comes from the Irish for pig). Shortly afterwards, the house was abandoned. It may already have been run down; the lane was too far from the road; it was the sixties, and the appetite was for new bungalows, not damp old cottages. There are so many places like it all over Ireland. Their skeletons have become one with the landscape – houses fallen into roofless walls, walls tumbled into ditches and buried under ivy and nettles. I wrote about it here a couple of years ago. ( https://the-history-girls.blogspot.com/2019/03/history-where-there-isnt-by-sheena.html) 

 

But this was different: this was a house whose descendants still live in the same area. And yet my husband had never been here in his life. There was uncertainty as to whether we even had the right place, much checking of the landscape against her long-ago stories – could that be the hollow where the dog fell through the ice and drowned? Was that the path she would have taken up to school? We discarded the other two or three abandoned houses in sight – that one was too big; that one too small, only a byre, and the other one still had a roof and walls so did not fit my late mother-in-law’s description of ‘a ruin’. 

The August landscape was stunning – we had walked up a lane bursting with wild raspberries and honeysuckle, leading to a land of undulating green drumlins, yellow fields of stubble, with the dark shadow of the Mournes in the background. A piebald cob and his friends grazed the field where the house lay derelict, fresh dung suggesting that they used its walls for shelter. We clambered over nettles and stones, marvelled at the tree growing right up through what might have been an outhouse, argued about which way round the house faced, looked up with some trepidation at what was left of the roof – would it withstand our visit? 

How could you not have been here before? I demanded. Surely you were interested in where your mammy grew up? I suppose, for a child, a long walk up a lane to an empty house wasn’t that exciting. But I could have stayed all day, trying to reconstruct the house in my mind, noticing how the stone walls had been panelled over at some stage; trying to work out if the room we stood in was a living room or a bedroom -- the small fireplace suggested the latter; wondering what would have hung from the hooks which clung stubbornly to the remains of a door. The people who lived here died before I married into this family, but I knew their names and had seen their photographs. 

How long does a house sit derelict before it stops being sad and starts being interesting?

 

I don’t think it ever stops being sad. 

I don't blame my husband for not making the pilgrimage earlier, when his mother could have filled in the blanks for us. Not all children are budding History Girls, as I had been, pestering Mummy for stories of the olden days – her girlhood in the fifties and sixties, and my granny for tales of the real olden days – she was born in 1908. The houses they told me about – the big house in Irish Street, Downpatrick where my granny took in lodgers; my other gran’s more modest terraced house in east Belfast – are long gone too, and not reclaimed by the kindness of nettles and grass, but demolished and built over. 

I will return to the Muck. It's not my family history, not really, but these old houses and their secrets are everyone's history. 

 

 

THE REST IS HISTORY. Tom Holland, Dominic Sandbrook and the best podcast of all. By Adéle Geras

 

At the beginning of 2021, I was still doing my one hour Lockdown Walk every day. I would come out of my front door, turn left or right and see where the road took me. I wear hearing aids and used to listen to radio  all the time, as I trod the streets. This was usually LBC radio because I like most of the presenters and during this solitary-ish time, it was good to hear voices, opinions and arguments from everywhere about  what was happening in the world. 

Here are two things you may not know about me. First, I'm a  news junkie. I read two newspapers every day and still have one of them delivered. I watch tv  news and discussion programmes. I loved the daily press briefing during the pandemic and followed the whole Covid saga from the beginning.

Secondly, I have various bees in my bonnet and a stable full of high horses on to whose backs I like to clamber from time to time. 

 

One of these is a passionate belief in the paramount importance of History as a subject for study. I think everyone should have History lessons until  they're at least 16 years old.  When a poll appears telling us that  75% of teenagers think Churchill is an actual bulldog advertising a building society, I could weep. The utter ignorance I see everywhere I look depresses me greatly.

 

 

That's background. Here's the story. On one of these walks I came across a new podcast. Someone had mentioned it on Twitter. It was called The Rest is History and I loved it instantly. I have since listened to every single episode.  

The excellence starts with the format.  Two good friends chatting informally. That's it. They share a love of  History and of the odd nooks and  corners and fascinating titbits that crop  up all the time.  They talk about everything, from the  history of Ancient China to the Cold War, taking in fashion that can kill you, childbirth, Burgundy, (the territory not the wine)  Alexander the Great, Justinian and Theodora....on and on. I've put up some pictures here to demonstrate the range, but this leaves out delights like the World Cup of Kings, (and Queens and Gods) and the wonderful Historical Love Island, which was won by Stanley Baldwin and the Empress Theodora. She  would, believe me, have been right at home there, at least in her youth. I can't begin to tell you how many excellent topics there are to be found on the podcast. Most recently, the podcasts Tom and Dom have given us about Russia, Putin and the Ukraine War have been unmissable.

They often bring in experts. Tom's brother James knows everything about the Second World War and I like imagining the  Holland brothers' childhood and what life must have been like in their house when they were children.  

The two men have different specialisms. Crudely put, Tom is Ancient and Dom is Modern. (You will find their  photographs at the end of this post and it's not a reflection either of their merit nor of my opinion of them that the sizes are so different. What this this means is: I'm very bad at putting up photos on the blog....that's the size they were when they appeared on my computer and I don't know how to make them the same as one another! Apologies.)

My best advice is: look each of them up on Google. They are writers. They are thinkers. They appear on television. Tom is a cricketer. One of the best short series on the podcast has Tom taking Dom around London pointing out all kinds of historical glories which Dom doesn't appreciate nearly enough, possibly because he's wearing new shoes and they're killing him. Other series on the Falklands, Watergate, the American Civil War are also brilliant. One of my favourite recent shows had Sarah Churchwell speaking about Gone with the Wind....you will see it in a different light, I promise you, after you've heard this podcast.

There's now a Rest is History Club, complete with chatrooms and privileges. You get ad -free podcasts and special episodes.  They do live events. They're on Twitter and very active there.

Best of all, they're tireless. They simply never stop. A new episode airs almost every day and the standard remains impeccable. The lovely banter and fun between the two of them seemingly never flags. Listen to one episode....I guarantee  you will be hooked. 

 

Eye Marvels - Joan Lennon

The last year or so I've been eye obsessed, as my cataracts got thicker and my outlook got blurrier. Two operations later (plus some months of having to be patient while my sight settled down) and I am thoroughly enjoying my shiny new eyes. But don't worry if you are squeamish - I'm not going to post a history of cataract surgery, fascinating (and toe-curling) though that is. Instead, I'd like to share with you J. H. Brown's fabulously-titled book Spectropia: or, Surprising Spectral Illusions, Showing Ghosts Everywhere, and of any Colour, published in 1865 by Griffith and Farran, whose offices were to be found in the Corner of St Paul's Churchyard (Entered at Stationers' Hall). 

It is a book about seeing ghosts.

 

To see the spectres, it is only necessary to look steadily at the dot, or asterisk, which is to be found on each of the plates, for about a quarter of a minute, or while counting about twenty, the plate being well illuminated by either artificial or day light. Then turning the eyes to the ceiling, the wall, the sky, or better still to a white sheet hung on the wall of a darkened room (not totally dark), and looking rather steadily at any one point, the spectre will soon begin to make its appearance, increasing in intensity, and then gradually vanishing, to reappear and again vanish ; it will continue to do so several times in succession...

J.H. Brown created his book to speak out against the 'mental epidemic' of such 'absurd follies' as 'spirit-rapping and table-turning'. He goes on to explain the wonderful mechanics of the eye and its heightened deceivability. And then, on with the show!  

Thanks to The Public Domain Review it's possible for us to have a go at experiencing these surprising spectral illusions ourselves, here, even if we don't own a physical copy of the book - which, though it may not have been a absolute best seller, was still popular enough to go into a 4th edition.

Enjoy!

(I would love to have a read of some of Griffith and Farran's other publications, such as the New and Popular Books for the Young advertised on the back cover, including The Headlong Career and Woful Ending of Precocious Piggy and the slightly dodgy sounding The Loves of Tom Tucker and Little Bo-peep.)

Joan Lennon website

Joan Lennon Instagram

AGE OF ELEGANCE ... by Susan Stokes-Chapman

In my previous blog post, I explored the world of Georgian jewellery, the crowning glory of any ensemble. But while those glittering finishing touches were undoubtedly important, they were only one part of the story. To truly appreciate the splendour of the era, we must also turn our attention to the fashions these jewels were meant to enhance, and the way dressmakers and tailors drew inspiration from the elegance and grandeur of the ancient world.

It was the Enlightenment that sparked this cultural shift. The Age of Enlightenment — a sweeping intellectual and philosophical movement that flourished across Europe during the 17th and 18th centuries — championed ideals such as human happiness, reason, empirical knowledge, liberty, and social progress. These Enlightenment values led to a renewed fascination with the classical civilisations of Greece and Rome, a reverence that inevitably found its way into the world of fashion, especially in what we now associate with the Regency period.

Women’s clothing, in particular, began to cast off the stiff structure of corsetry in favour of a more fluid and graceful silhouette. Inspired by ancient statuary and drapery, dresses adopted the flowing lines and high waistlines of classical antiquity — what we now call the Empire Line — designed to flatter the figure with a soft, slender elegance. Men’s fashion, too, echoed this classical ideal, embracing a leaner, more statuesque form reminiscent of the heroic figures of Grecian myth.

 

It is little wonder that the ancient world held such allure. With the rise of archaeology and the increasing accessibility of classical artefacts, many brought to wider attention through the aristocratic tradition of the Grand Tour, the beauty and refinement of classical imagery captivated the European imagination. The aesthetics of antiquity were irresistible: men were depicted as clean-shaven, with artfully curled hair and sculpted, athletic physiques that embodied virile strength and nobility. Women, by contrast, were portrayed with flawless skin, elegant hairstyles, and an air of serene grace, together forming the classical ideal of human perfection that so enchanted the Georgian mind.

© Victoria and Albert Museum

 
© Victoria and Albert Museum

The earliest Grecian-inspired gowns were simple, column-like shifts, most commonly made from muslin. Though other fabrics were occasionally used, muslin dominated the fashion plates of the day, prized for its soft drape and airy lightness. These gowns were intentionally unstructured, with shape achieved not through stiff corsetry, but by a ribbon or tie just beneath the bust, creating the now-iconic Empire Line silhouette.

This style offered women a remarkable sense of freedom and comfort. The dresses were lightweight, required minimal underpinning, and were paired with flat shoes, liberating wearers from the discomfort of high heels. White, in all its subtle variations, was the prevailing colour, evoking the purity and simplicity of classical antiquity. During the day, women often wore soft pastel shades, while deeper tones appeared in shawls, trims, or decorative tunics — many of which were edged in gold. These elegant overlays enhanced the Greco-Roman aesthetic, echoing the timeless beauty of ancient dress.

These ensembles were often complemented by delicate reticules (small handbags that sometimes echoed the elegant contours of a Grecian urn) and by hoods inspired by the Grecian caul, a fine cloth or netting designed to cover the hair and extend gracefully down the back in an elongated shape:

Returning briefly to jewellery, one accessory in particular captured the imagination of the era: the tiara. Frequently seen in contemporary portraits, these elegant headpieces also drew inspiration from the mosaics and pottery uncovered in archaeological excavations across Greece and Rome. As the examples illustrated below reveal, the classical heritage made tiaras a natural and highly fashionable adornment:

© The British Museum

Moreover, cameos were perhaps the most overt homage to the ancient world in Georgian jewellery. As early as 1805, the Journal des Dames observed that “a fashionable lady wears cameos at her girdle, cameos in her necklace, cameos on each of her bracelets, and a cameo on her tiara.” Below is a striking portrait of Queen Louise Augusta of Prussia, painted by the French artist Madame Le Brun, which beautifully showcases a cameo adorning her tiara, an elegant testament to this enduring classical influence.

The English potter Josiah Wedgwood found great success with his jasperware, renowned for its exquisite classical scenes. Featured below is a belt clasp framed in cut steel and adorned with Matthew Boulton’s faceted steel studs, depicting a priestess performing a sacrifice. Such cameos were a popular accessory among Georgian women (and even some men) who embraced these classical motifs as a mark of style and sophistication.

© The Walters Art Museum

And speaking of priestesses, the painting below by Madame Le Brun portrays Lady Hamilton — Lord Nelson’s famed mistress — as a graceful dancing priestess. Her layered garment and intricately patterned underdress blur the line between Regency fashion and ancient Grecian robes, so striking is the resemblance. In the background, the eruption of Mount Vesuvius serves as a vivid reminder of the recent excavations at Pompeii, an archaeological discovery that further fuelled the Georgian era’s fascination with the classical world.

For men, the approach to fashion was notably more restrained. Gentlemen wore breeches crafted from fabrics that stretched comfortably across the legs, subtly accentuating their form, while skin-tight pantaloons evoked the virile grace of classical statues much admired during the period. The dandy Beau Brummell — depicted below — famously asserted that the purpose of men's fashion was to “clothe the body so that its fineness may be revealed,” emphasising understated elegance over ostentation.

Of course, not all bodies conformed to the idealised shapes of the era. For women of fuller figure, the Empire Line dresses remained remarkably flattering, gracefully skimming the silhouette. Men, however, who lacked the muscular contours celebrated in Grecian heroes, often did not hesitate to enhance their form with padded garments to create the desired curves. This humorous caricature below playfully captures that very practice. Beside it is a surviving example of a padded stocking, a testament to the lengths men would go to achieve the perfect classical profile.

There is much more to be said about Georgian fashion, but for the purposes of this blog, I wanted to focus on the striking visual parallels between Regency styles and the ancient world. Personally, I believe they were truly onto something remarkable. It feels high time these fashions made a comeback. They were elegant and regal, wonderfully cool in the summer months, and flattering to every shape and size. What more could one possibly ask for?

~~~~~~

My Georgian-set debut novel Pandora acknowledges this obsession with the ancient world, and you can order by clicking the image below:

www.susanstokeschapman.com
Instagram: @SStokesChapman