The Housekeeper's Room

This is the last of my posts about Tredegar House. Though obviously not as grand as the upstairs rooms, I found the housekeeper's room quite pleasant.

Working for a very eccentric person like Evan Morgan may have had its trials. Having worked for a working class bully I suggest working for an upper class satanic gay animal loving party-er would possibly be preferable. Morgan might have broken a lot of social rules, but I'm guessing he would have likely understood the code for servants. During his inter-war time servants were harder to find given that factory work paid better and gave more personal freedom. 

And of course in all times the housekeeper was one of the top tier of the servant hierarchy, holding the keys to the provisions cupboard and responsible for keeping it stocked. This is a list of the provisions used at Tredegar House in the three months, November 1834 through January 1835. It's unbelievable how much they went through:

Meat (pounds/lbs)

Beef - 9,546 

Mutton - 4,277

Veal - 808

Lamb - 116

Pork - 3,608

Butter - 1,056 (lbs)

Cream - 424 (quarts)

Cheese - 419 (lbs)

Beer - 28 hogsheads (6,860 litres or 1,812 U.S. gallons)

Ale - 28 hogsheads

[My guess is that in the early 1800's these beverages were still consumed in preference to water which was often unsafe.]

Wine (bottles)

Port - 176

Sherry - 355

Madeira - 194

Claret - 292

Other ports - 206

Poultry

Fowls - 482

Turkeys - 80

Geese - 21

Ducks - 40

Eggs - 204 dozen

Sugar - white - 779 lbs

           - moist - 250 lbs

Tea - 104 lbs

Coffee - 64 lbs

Wheat - 242 bushels (complicated to convert due to historical changes / imperial vs US, but I'm going with 6,534 kg or 2,970 lbs)

Coal - 207 tons

That's for three months. Can you even get your head around this amount of consumption? I can't, even taking into account this will have included twenty or more servants.

From The Complete Servant, Sarah & Samuel Adams (the book on the desk):

The situation of a housekeeper, in almost every family, is of great importance. She superintends nearly the whole of the domestic establishment, has generally the control and direction of the servants, particularly of the female servants, has the care of the household furniture and linen, of all the grocery, dried and other fruits, spices, condiments, soap, candles, and stores of all kinds, for culinary and other domestic uses. She makes all the pickles, preserves, and sometimes the best pastry. She generally distills and prepares all the compound and simple waters, and spirits, essential and other oils, perfumery, cosmetics, and similar articles that are prepared at home, for domestic purposes. In short, she is the locum tenens [Latin, place holder], the Lady Bountiful, and the active representative of the mistress of the family; and is expected to do, or to see done, everything that appertains to the good and orderly management of the household.

She ought to be a steady middle-aged woman, of great experience in her profession, and a tolerable knowledge of the world. In her conduct she should be moral, exemplary, and assiduous, as the harmony, comfort, and economy of the family will great depend on her example; and she must know, that no occurrence can be too trifling for her attention, that may lead to these results and whereby waste and unnecessary expense may be avoided.

The spice cabinet. These days one doesn't appreciate how expensive spices were/are. Until one calculates the price per pound or kg. Then it makes complete sense to lock them up!

When the entire management of the servants is deputed to her, her situation becomes the more arduous and important. If servants have hardships to undergo, she will let them see that she feels for the necessity of urging them. To cherish the desire of pleasing in them, she will convince them that they may succeed in their endeavors to please her. Human nature is the same in all stations. Convince the servants that you have a considerate regard for their comforts, and they will be found to be grateful, and to reward your attention by their own assiduity: besides, nothing is so endearing as being courteous to our inferiors.

Female servants who would pursue an honest course, have numberless difficulties to contend with, and should,therefore, be treated kindly. The housekeeper in a great family, has ample means of doing good; and she will, doubtless, recollect that it is a part of her duty of protect and encourage virtue, as the best preventive from vice.

In families where there is a house-steward, the marketing will be done, and the tradesmen's bills will be collected, examined, and discharged, by him; but in many famlies, the business of marketing, and of keeping the accounts, devovles on the housekeeper. It is therefore, incumbent on her to be well informed of the prices and qualities of all articles of household consumption in general use; and of the best times..."

I know, it was just getting good, but that's the end of the page I photographed.

Even the housekeeper had her little excesses...

Tredegar House - Downstairs

As I mentioned, one grand house blends into another without something special to see or some personality to remember. The downstairs portions of these places are fairly predictable as well, though I'm always open to being surprised. There was one house we visited on this same trip where the kitchen would have been the envy of most modern chefs if only for the architecture. 

Otherwise the standard features include the bells that called the servants to the various rooms in the house. I never see these without thinking of Downton Abbey. (BTW, the next series of Downton Abbey is being filmed at Alnwick Castle, of Harry Potter fame. I'm looking forward to seeing if I recognise anything in common between the two films. Also, must find out how to visit inside Alnwick Castle, not just visit the gardens - it's not a National Trust Property. Have a feeling it might need to involve running their 10K race, but even that could be fun, exploring the grounds!)

There is almost always some sort of fake food around, hopefully to help children's imaginations. Everything I've read about living in grand houses is that the food was definitely not great. By the time it got transported from kitchen to dining room and served it was almost never hot. Which would help all those ladies stay skinny, right?

Better than the fake food, I love seeing the rows of copper pans. Those alone would cost a fortune, surely?

Of course there is always some hulking great stove - or two. 

I am particularly fond of menus. Usually there are not a lot of things there I would be excited to eat, if I even knew what they were. I'm more intrigued by the idea of knowing how to make those things and to present them beautifully. One day I'll have to do a series on 'Master This Menu'.  This is the menu for the Servant's Ball in 1921. Surely it must have been a buffet? One does find that there was an extraordinary amount of meat eaten back then, veggies being what poor folks could raise and eat. Also there seems to be a lot of desserts. My tummy hurts just reading the list, though I could fancy a bit of 'cream vanilla'.

Loved the art nouveau pattern on this platter. Art nouveau preceeded the inter-war years, but if anything I love it even better than art deco...

These 'jelly moulds' would likely have been as much for savory fare as for the gelatin and fruit concoctions I recall from my grade school days. Can't say I would be terribly excited about cold meat served up in cold gelatin. It wasn't until I moved to Britain, where vegetarians are quite common, that I realised gelatin was an animal product, even the stuff used to capture fruit. Doesn't bear thinking about, so I don't; I just eat it.

That is one of the things in my pantry shelves that needs 'used up', packets of gelatin. Can't wait to see the expression on Bill's face...

Tredegar House - Upstairs

I do love history, but a person can't absorb it all, so there are pockets that I stick with most often. If you've come here often you'll know that one of them is the interwar period - the 1920s and 1930s - between World War I and World War II.  

The walls are painted Indian Yellow, apparently a popular colour during the 17th century, but the name sounds to me like from the days of Empire. Oh duh; Britain's colonisation of India started in 1612.

As we went up the Great Staircase, which has had several renovations and around which was hung the family portraits 'of persons who built a great fortune in the 19th century and of those who spent it all in the 20th!', I spotted a rather Freudian looking one (as in Lucien Freud, grandson of Sigmund). That style made me guess when the person had lived, even though it turned out to have been painted c. 1913 by Ambrose McEvoy, 'a popular society portraitist' who predated Freud.

"Evan Morgan (1893-1949) was a Bright Young Thing of the 1920s, interested in society, fashion, literature, and mystical matters. A famous eccentric, he was known for his wild parties at Tredegar House." 

I would also add that, in spite of having had two wives, he was definitely more interested in men.   And he practiced black magic which involved turning a crucifix upside down for their rituals. When not involved in Black Masses, he was acting as chamberlain to Pope Pious XI. Weird, eh? Funny enough, Evan's also an exact contemporary of my paternal grandfather, who died before I was born, also at the age of 56. 

"Many of his regular guests were major artistic or society figures of the day, such as H. G. Wells, Ivor Novello, Prince Paul of Greece and Nancy Cunard."

I wonder how much they knew about his 'religious' practices?

Evan Mogan's first wife was Lois Stuart, an actress and artist. They married in 1927 as a matter of convenience: Evan needed a respectable cover for his homosexuality and Lois's family had concerns about her scandalous affairs with the Earl of Pembroke and the Duke of Kent.  The marriage ended in 1937 not only because they separated but because she died whilst visiting the Cartier family, the famous jewelers, in Budapest. Lois had hoped to return to her acting career and had begun taking slimming drugs which led to a fatal heart attack at the age of 37. You can just about see what she looked like during her married life here.

The King's Room - Evan's bedroom in the 1930s & 40s.

Of course, it was a room with a view...

Bill once explained to me about the men I saw carrying really tatty old leather briefcases on the Metro. He said that the leather meant they had money; the age and tattiness meant they had had it since their university days, which means they come from money. Well, that's one theory anyhow.

Did I mention he liked animals and had a bunch running around Tredegar House?

That's Evan with the bird. The expressions of the others in the photo are priceless. Is this the parrot that bit Herman Goring's nose?

I grew up with these boxes around; haven't seen one in ages!

I do love little excesses like this; extra long curtains are often seen in grand houses. When I made an enormous draping valence years ago, I gave it 'puddles of velvet' on each side. It was fun!

These cabinets make my mouth water. I would fill them with my fabric stash! Well, maybe books and fabric stash...

The bawth room.

Why don't we have bathrooms like these any more?

Wife #2: Russian Princess Olga Dolgorouky (please forgive my camera reflection).

The Dolgorouky's were one of Russia's oldest aristocratic families and Olga's half-sister was married to a Romonov prince. Her family fled Russia after the 1917 Revolution when Olga was a child. She spent most of her youth in Paris and London. A society beauty, in 1939 she was featured on the front cover of 'The Tatler'. Olga lived at Tredegar house during WWII and was popular with the estate workers. She trained with St Johns's Ambulance and volunteered at the local hospital.  She married Evan, 22 years her senior, for his money. However, the marriage was annulled after only five years. One wonders if it was his lifestyle or the fact that his money was running out that caused them to part. Olga moved to Guernsey where she died in 1998. She corresponded with the National Trust about Tredegar House, particularly to help them with the presentation of her bedroom, the Red Room.

Tredegar House and Evan Morgan both have plenty of admirers. Each link has some additional amazing tidbit. He exemplifies a part of why I find the interwar years so interesting, particularly here in Britain. It was clearly a crazy time in an already rather crazy place.

Tredegar House

This is a test: 

How much can I remember about this place we visited three months ago? A bit, not much. Thank heavens for the Internet!

Great article on Welsh dragons (not that I got through it all...)

Where is it? Ummm...near our campsite in Wales? Oh yes, 'Monmouthshire'.

The house made me think of a heavily decorated cake.

Who lived there?  Can't remember his name, but one of the Bright Young Things I must look up. Oh yes, and they were related to Captain Morgan, the famous buccaneer - remember him? I've just learned that's also a brand of rum.

The place was decked out as for the wedding of William Morgan and Elizabeth Dayrell in the 1670s. Also, it being a bank holiday they had a Pirates Day with lots of activities and costumes for the kiddies...to honour the buccaneer.

What did I like about it? I'm always impressed by thick walls, leaded glass windows, rich chandeliers, and elaborate table settings, but I really loved the sumptuous bedrooms and enormous bathrooms. Also the stories about the interwar Morgan and his beautiful wives. It won't all fit into one post...

How will I share my experience? Pick my favourite photos (some of which have text to help out) and do some Internet research, which I always love.

Floral Brussels carpet made in Paris in the early 1800s. In the 1600s this room was
"the Drinking Room' (presumably for the men after dinner). In later centuries it became "the Morning Room" (used by ladies to pursue their lady like activities).

Why would I bother? Partly because others might enjoy seeing the place they may never visit, but mainly to document our amazing life. I come back to my own blog time and again. It's become more than a journal, it's nearly a reference for ideas, places and people that capture my imagination.

The Red Room, which once had 'gilt leather' hangings. I read in Fussell's book about uniforms (see 2014 reading list to the right) that the colour of the jackets worn for the hunt is called 'hunting pink'. Normal people would call it red. BTW, one doesn't say 'horse riding'; it's just 'riding'.

Becoming members of the National Trust was definitely a good move for us since we decided to travel around Britain in the motor home this year.  However, much as I love history and architecture, the grand houses begin to blend together into one large extravagance unless I capture some unique idea about the place. It is often about the people who built or inhabited, renovated or sold off these houses. They are mostly all arrogant, to be sure, but also clever, beautiful, sometimes creative, very often peculiar or unbelievably stupid. Sometimes it's the guide who takes us around who infects me with their passion for the garden, the family or the art on the walls. Now and then I find that I'm walking in the same place as Henry VIII, Charles II or Elizabeth I once did and I get a little shiver. Other times I see some little decorating idea I could copy or I'm awed by the detail of some lady's needlework. 

The 'hook' that Tredegar House gave me was not Captain Morgan, but Bright Young Thing, Evan Morgan. More about him later.

Castles in the Air

Before we leave Wales and forget about it, I wanted to tell about a book I discovered not long after we came back. It's called Castles in the Air (by Judy Corbett - for some reason my Amazon thingie is broken, but it's on both amazon.com and .co.uk). I found it in the biography section at the library. I can't recommend the biography section of your library highly enough!

The book is the story of how she and her boyfriend managed to buy an old - nearly tumbledown - castle in Wales and renovate it. She was a self-employed bookbinder (!) and her boyfriend (now husband) was, I think, something to do with grant-writing. If, like me, you love the idea of a 'fixer-up' but not the reality, this book lets you have a fabulous vicarious experience.   It's not just about stones and shingles, but about the people and personalities who became involved in the restoration including William Randolph Hearst and Prince Charles.


Gwydir Castle wasn't terribly far from where we were, but of course I didn't know about it then and we did have our own accommodation, being in the motorhome. Unlike most B&Bs which charge per person, they charge in the American style - per room, which makes £85 or £95 per night a pretty good deal.  Mind, she does say it's not like a five-star hotel or anything.  You have 'get' the idea of the castle to enjoy your stay properly. 

I wouldn't mind checking it out sometime, if we ever get down to Wales again. 

Portmeirion Beach

When I pulled out these photos, I was thinking 'saved the best for last' and that made me think of this post on Gai Shan Life.

I don't know if it is because I grew up hundreds of miles from an ocean or if it's another one of those things that just naturally appeals, but beach scenes really get me.

Even though it wasn't warm the day we were here, it wasn't cold either. 

The beauty here had nothing to do with the weather, although I do find masses of cloud more dramatic than a clear blue sky.



There were all sorts of warnings everywhere about getting off the beach before 2pm as the tide would come in very rapidly.  Bill was impressed with this, as it was a vast expanse of sand to be covered quickly.

I was impressed by the warnings of quicksand!  I wasn't at all tempted to wander down onto the beach!

Neither of us doubted the veracity of those warnings.  It's almost intuitive that beauty often goes hand in hand with danger.

Portmeirion Gardens

Portmeirion isn't just about architecture, it has incredible gardens as well.

Well, I don't know if it would technically be more than one, the place is so small.



I had to fight Blogger to get these photos on; I think he's OD'd on photos about now.  Perhaps you have, too.  I think I could look at this a hundred times, me.

 (I'm probably half way there, I've spent so much time grouping these by post).

The bloggers I read tend to be nuts about France and especially Paris.  

They are wonderful, I agree, but I'm more in love with Italy (and Italian food), so Portmeirion pushed all my buttons.

You'd think I was starved for colour the way I responded to this place.

In fact it has been rather a grey summer, though some days were beautiful.  

Sorry, Bill, about the purple flower on your head.  You were just too quick for me!

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It's amazing how much landscaping they managed to squeeze into such a (relatively) small space.

I'm no expert, but this was definitely one of the best lily ponds I've ever seen.



This is a sneak peak at the hydrangeas, but I'll leave them for a while longer.