Lady Marjorie Bellamy sits for a painting by Guthrie Scone
in the episode "The Mistress and the Maids" set in June 1904 in the first season of "UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS." Guthrie Scone is a highly skilled painter. The newly hired under-house maid Sarah goes to his studio to deliver some dresses and a romance ensues. In the next episode Sir James Bellamy begins an affair with Sarah which results in her having to give notice and leave the household.
Dalkeith Palace, one of the many properties belonging to the Dukes of Buccleuch, acquired in 1642 by the 2nd Earl of Buccleuch.
I'm curiously drawn to this stately home for reasons I can't quite explain, and it's nothing to do with the wooly mammoth in the front yard.
Walter Francis John Scott, 9th Duke of Buccleuch, 11th Duke of Queensberry, the largest landholder in Europe, died this week, to be succeeded by his son, the Earl of Dalkeith, who is roughly my own age. Which got me thinking about the burden of a title and how fortunate I was to have dodged that bullet in this life, a view I shared with WG of Get Mummy's Purse who replied, "But think of the opportunities to wear ermine and have taxpayers fund extravagant dinners, and the title -- the title! Please, if you are offered one, I implore you not to turn it down. I should like to be Viscount Godwin myself -- very 1970s onyx ashtray and white leather sofa with a view overlooking the Houses of Parliament from my Thames side penthouse -- very Theatre of Blood Critic's flat."
Our mutual friend S, on the other hand, trumped us both by pointing out that her family were titled and had been for ages [famille de très ancienne noblesse bretonne, qui s’était vu accorder par les états de Bretagne un blason de style héraldique], except for that unfortunate misunderstanding we call the French Revolution.
Thus far, however, the closest I have come was, according to a psychic acquaintance, in a previous lifetime as an under-house maid in an English stately home where I was "ravished" on the back stairs by one of the upstairs staff, a valet or head butler -- an incident which I would like to believe contained some modicum of affection, but which according to my psychic friend has left residual karmic scars I am still working off. Probably this explains my fascination as a youth watching UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS. I was especially drawn to the dim but lovable Ruby who assisted Mrs. Bridges, the cook.
[With firm patience:] "Wot's thaht I ahlways sigh, Roobee?"
[Pause, then with sad and labored effort:] "Uh stoo boil'd is a stoo spoil'd, Missuhs Brudges."
You might be interested to know that Nick Carraway, the narrator of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, claims to be descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, although he also points out that he doesn't believe it could possibly be true.
Dalkeith Palace, one of the many properties belonging to the Dukes of Buccleuch, acquired in 1642 by the 2nd Earl of Buccleuch. I'm curiously drawn to this stately home for reasons I can't quite explain, and it's nothing to do with the wooly mammoth in the front yard.
Walter Francis John Scott, 9th Duke of Buccleuch, 11th Duke of Queensberry, the largest landholder in Europe, died this week, to be succeeded by his son, the Earl of Dalkeith, who is roughly my own age. Which got me thinking about the burden of a title and how fortunate I was to have dodged that bullet in this life, a view I shared with WG of Get Mummy's Purse who replied, "But think of the opportunities to wear ermine and have taxpayers fund extravagant dinners, and the title -- the title! Please, if you are offered one, I implore you not to turn it down. I should like to be Viscount Godwin myself -- very 1970s onyx ashtray and white leather sofa with a view overlooking the Houses of Parliament from my Thames side penthouse -- very Theatre of Blood Critic's flat."
Our mutual friend S, on the other hand, trumped us both by pointing out that her family were titled and had been for ages [famille de très ancienne noblesse bretonne, qui s’était vu accorder par les états de Bretagne un blason de style héraldique], except for that unfortunate misunderstanding we call the French Revolution.
Thus far, however, the closest I have come was, according to a psychic acquaintance, in a previous lifetime as an under-house maid in an English stately home where I was "ravished" on the back stairs by one of the upstairs staff, a valet or head butler -- an incident which I would like to believe contained some modicum of affection, but which according to my psychic friend has left residual karmic scars I am still working off. Probably this explains my fascination as a youth watching UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS. I was especially drawn to the dim but lovable Ruby who assisted Mrs. Bridges, the cook.
[With firm patience:] "Wot's thaht I ahlways sigh, Roobee?"
[Pause, then with sad and labored effort:] "Uh stoo boil'd is a stoo spoil'd, Missuhs Brudges."
You might be interested to know that Nick Carraway, the narrator of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, claims to be descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, although he also points out that he doesn't believe it could possibly be true.
I'm very taken with this being ravaged as an under maid idea, and love the upstairs downstairs connotations. All those underskirts – there’s so much scope you see. I’m slightly more drawn to Forster’s Maurice Hall and Alec Scudder moment myself - ‘I heard you calling sir.’ Fog and pent up sexual tension, as well as having a boat house on the estate, are all a recipe for enchantment in the bedroom department (or so I'm told).
[1904 Replies: underthings in general -- don't forget all those buttons! -- can be so challenging and alluring at the same time, don't you think? Oh yes, and dark confined spaces, like boathouses and narrow backstairwells...]
"Buccleuch" is one of the few odd British names that I can pronounce. I wish I could get it right for "Rotherhithe" and "Dalhousie."
[And no pronunciation guide in Burke's Peerage -- I just looked. I'm told the Duke always pronounced it "Buck-loo" but others said "Buch (CH as in Bach)-loo". Right? The only other one I'm certain of is Cholmondeley = "Chum/lee" Ed. Note]