Lady Grey?
March 29th, 2011
My great-great grandmother, Agnes Gray (Grey), was Scottish. I’m not sure if she was born in Scotland, or if her parents immigrated to America first. Regardless, my own grandmother has always been interested in our Scottish heritage. She had a suit made in the Sutherland tartan, but I was never quite sure how that connexion worked. How could someone named Gray belong to the Sutherland clan?
Well it turns out that the Grays (Greys) are a sept, or sub-division of the Sutherland clan. The Grays came over to England with William the Conqueror, and later fled up to Scotland after doing something naughty down south. By the 16th century, they were allied with the Sutherlands and installed in Skibo Castle. The Grays intermarried with the Gordons, whose line still holds the ancient (created in the early 13th century) Earldom of Sutherland, and, until recent generations, held the newer (created in the early 19th century) Duchy of Sutherland.
Skibo Castle, which was held by the Grays for more than 200 years, until the 1770s, was rebuilt in the late 18th century. So I couldn’t find a picture of what it might have looked like during the years when “my family” held it. In the early 20th century, the new castle was purchased by American millionaire Andrew Carnegie. The castle is still owned by the Carnegie club, and is run as a posh estate hotel. Madonna was married at Skibo Castle.
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Which isn’t to say that I am actually related to Scottish nobility. We probably came from the poor-relation branch of the family. But I think it is fair to say that I am descended from the same Gray (Grey) who accompanied the Normal conqueror. Why do I suddenly have even less sympathy for Ivanhoe?
You can read more about the Sutherland clan on their website.
Whist
March 27th, 2011
In preparation for tomorrow’s General Meeting of the New York Nineteenth Century Society, I have been reading up on the game of Whist. According to Whist: its history and practice, by “an amateur,” published in London, 1844, the game finds its roots in a 17th century game (reportedly played by Jonathan Swift and his fellow bishops) called Whisk & Swabbers.
By the 19th century, Whist had become a drawing room staple. Gentlefolk spent hours taking tricks, memorizing cards, and exchanging small stakes over the green baize of the card table. Played with a standard deck of cards, Whist requires four players, in two partnerships. In many ways, it is quite similar to Bridge. But of course, being 19th century, the imagery is much more pleasant.
Here, for example, is a representation of the whist partnership (as illustrated in the aforementioned book):
They hardly look as though they are playing cards, do they?
Instrumental Inheritance
March 26th, 2011
My better half is a song-writer of some note, and still performs regularly. Recently, he’s been hunting for a new instrument. Not to imply any lack of affection for his old guitar — a beautiful Guild with holes worn into the face from strumming (Willie’s not the only one). But he wanted something a little smaller, lighter, less imposing. It took a while, but he finally met his match with a Blueridge Parlor Guitar. What a sweet, mellow tone it has! And though the sound of the parlor guitar could fill a symphony hall, it’s nearly a third smaller than his dreadnought.
Before reaching his current bliss however, we tried out a few other instruments along the way. Instruments which I now seem to have inherited…
First, there was this autoharp. Invented in the 1880s (I think), the autoharp offers an easy way for anyone to accompany themselves without learning to finger chords. But it’s another thing to really play the autoharp well. It can be finger-picked in any style, or, with a little cleverness, can play both melody and accompaniment simultaneously.
Next, he tried a ukulele. This traditional Hawai’ian instrument was invented by a Portuguese immigrant to Hawai’i in the late 19th century. It became popular in America shortly before World War I. With only four strings, the ukulele is not terribly versatile, but it is light as a feather, and very easy to play.
Finally, he admitted that what he really wanted was a smaller guitar. So he rushed out to the best guitar store in New York City, Carmine Street Guitars, where he saw the Blueridge parlor for the first time. But still, he hesitated. And while he was teetering on the brink, he picked up this Taylor “Baby.”
It’s an adorable little thing — steel strings, but a very light, compact body. And the fret board is quite narrow, so it fits my hand well. I’m just a bit too small to feel comfortable playing a full-sized guitar. And for someone who can barely change chords without looking, it’s a very nice instrument.
Of course, my real love remains my cello — a far better instrument than I deserve, now going on 15 years old, with a tone that gets richer every year. But, as they say, when life gives you stringed instruments, make lemonade.
Beautiful Dreamer
March 25th, 2011
“Beautiful Dreamer” was Stephen Foster’s last song, published shortly after his death in 1864. What an appropriate title for a final tune, especially at a time when sentimentalists were beginning to liken death to a deep sleep. (Yes, I know Shakespeare also made the comparison, but it fell off for a few centuries, for reasons I shall explain another time.)
This print from Courier & Ives, while illustrating the song, also serves to illustrate the changing ideals of beauty. Compared to the stick-thin models in 21st-century fashion magazines, this Victorian beauty is decidedly zoftig. Also note her neat little “bud-like” mouth — no lip augmentation here! It is very refreshing to see such a natural looking woman idolized, but I must admit her tiny hands are a bit creepy — I guess that’s what Elizabeth Gaskell meant when she described Margaret’s “taper fingers” in North and South. Something unnatural there if you ask me.
I have been learning “Beautiful Dreamer” in anticipation of the next general meeting of the New York Nineteenth Century Society, next Monday, March 28. We decided to have a theme song, and my husband finally convinced me that “Oh! I’d Be a Sailor” wasn’t widely known enough to sing in mixed company. So far, I have learned to play the song on the auto-harp, the ukulele, and the guitar. Now if only I could carry a tune…
Lecture Report
March 24th, 2011
Last night, I gave a “hands-on” presentation at the museum where I work. It was called Hand-Sewing in the 1850s — 60 Years before the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire, presented in collaboration with Remember the Triangle Fire Coalition’s 100th anniversary memorial.
The Song of the Shirt, by Anna Blunden — one of the illustrations I used in my talk.
To my great delight, 35 people turned out for the lecture, despite miserable left-over-winter weather that included rain, snow, sleet, hail, and thunder. Everyone seemed very interested in the topic at hand, and after the slides were finished, the crowd proved their good nature by trying out some of the hand-sewing stitches we’d been discussing. I was particularly pleased to meet so many fellow sewers, including two ladies who work at an historic farm, and a costumer from a local ballet company!
I recorded the talk for some friends who couldn’t be there, and though I haven’t had the courage to listen to it myself, my husband assures me it was quite presentable. I wonder when I’ll have the chance to do it again, and what I shall talk about.
Now back to my stays…