The photograph above is of Julia Margaret Cameron's home at around the time she lived in it. Mrs Cameron had not yet picked up a Camera, or so the story goes- though GiGi rather thinks she had- until a good three years after she moved here.
The building ( which is at the beginning of our Terrace ) was two houses, owned by a property speculating Fisherman named Jacob Long. Mrs C, had set her cap at following Tennyson and family down to Freshwater at every given opportunity beginning in 1855 and continuing throughout the late fifties ( excerpt from Emily Tennyson's diary in November 1857 " Mrs Cameron runs after us and comes with us ". ) The family had made several visits already that year, beginning in February for a month, then in April for Tennyson's brother Horatio's wedding to Charlotte Elwes at Bonchurch.
Julia bought the two houses ( possibly one was called 'Lingland' ) and whilst they were being joined together with the addition of the Tower in the middle, she staid at Ashburton Cottage in July 1859.
This was a year before plans were approved for the two roads in the picture- Terrace Lane and Gate Lane. Originally there were plans to run the main road ( Gate Lane ) up where our Terrace is and around the back of Farringford, but a helpful local Gent, Mr Cotton, offered the Tennysons half of the money needed to pay off the landowner of 'Starks' so that the road could by-pass the front of Farringford Hall.
Julia and co set up camp and named one half 'Dimbola' after her adored husband Charles Hay Cameron's Coffee plantations in Ceylon. Mr Cameron had been thus far unsuccessful at obtaining a Governance post anywhere, and Julia must have been beginning to worry about future finances. Charles was frequently yearning for Ceylon, and it's not too far-fetched to think that Julia had designs on keeping him nearby by giving them a home on a small Island near the sea. Charles however promptly became a scholarly invalid, rarely setting foot outside the grounds. He slept a lot by all accounts, and was often recorded as 'quoting classics' wearing a purple dressing gown with his long silver-grey hear and beard enhancing an unworldly appearance in the garden. Beards were all the rage in the early 1860's after poet friend of Julia's Henry Taylor grew one. Tennyson followed, Darwin too, and clean-shaven was not the thing. Acid purple dye had also recently become commercially viable, and Mrs C was fond of bright colours.
So that is how Julia Margaret Cameron came to Freshwater, and over the next decade she certainly made her mark. Her family ( The Pattles of Indian and French sophisticated society ) had long been used to the French 'Salon'. London houses were on the whole a bit small for this kind of entertaining, but Julia found Dimbola an excellent venue for hers. Her exhuberant personality and effusive friendship, made her a hard woman to refuse. This helped once she picked up a camera, and the legacy of Eminent Victorian portraits she gave us bears witness.
Your Grand-mother came across Dimbola this way...
Grumpa and GiGi had wandered down to the Isle of Wight one bank-holiday weekend in 2005. Making it a place we could call our own, we stayed regularly at a hotel in the Bay. It felt familiar to me particularly, and I recognised various paths, and landmarks, having forgotten that my father brought me here as a small child in the late 60's.
I had often felt a strong desire to turn right out of our hotel and explore. Grumpa didn't want to.
One day, when Grumpa had gone out with the children, I followed my instinct.
I walked up Gate Lane, and without knowing anything about Dimbola, went in.
This is the first picture I saw.
It didn't strike me as a Victorian photograph at all. Looked rather like Vincent Gallo. Then I saw a photograph of Julia Duckworth that reminded me of Virginia Woolf. I had long been fascinated by the Bloomsbury set, and now discovered that Julia was Virginias Aunt. The 'Bloomsbury set' came along a generation after this lot often referred to as the 'Cosmopolitan club'. I was smitten from this point. Dimbola felt familiar, and I was very pleased I had arrived there.
Seven years on, and a lot of things have changed. Here we are, living at a house in the same road as Dimbola, and still discovering more about the lady of the house, her friends and compatriots.
Your bedroom here is called 'Emily' after you. Horatio Tennyson lived here for some time as H.J.Jennings wrote to Tennysons son Hallam 'Horatio - seventh brother of the poet who is resident at 'The Terrace', close to Mrs Cameron, who is devoting his life to ministering among those in any ways afflicted in mind, body or estate' winning the wanderer back into the fold by showing them he still counts them his brethren in Christ.'
Horatio Tennyson.
Enough for now Emily, looking forwards to you coming here over Christmas and seeing how much you have grown!
Your ever-loving Grand-mother GiGi! xxx
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