Today we are to fly off on a tangent from my tangled tales of investigation.
As we have seen from Dodgson's works, we can all use a bit of a 'Muse'.
I'm no exception, and felt in need of a bit of inspiration. As you know following your Christmas visit, I'm busying away at Julia Margaret Cameron's former home. We've done a bit of decorating, cosied it up a bit, and re-located the Gift Shop, all good- but prettying up doth not a good business make, and it's time to focus on the Tearooms.
Your Grand-mother GiGi might know how to play shop, but I don't know my R.S from my elbow in the Tearoom business...
So I stalled a bit and listened and looked. Even so, it's no good steaming in when you aren't sure of what you are doing. Especially when we are 'pas beaucoup d'argent'.
Back at the Bookroom on Sunday, serendipity struck again as I picked up a book- The Duchess of Jermyn St. A couple of pages into the book I read "Through the big double doors of the Cavendish, painted Guardi green, past the porch where an enormous hooded leather chair stood like a monument, I found an Alice in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass world that enchanted me, where the faster one ran the more one stayed in the same place. Here Rosa reigned, both as Red and White Queen, with her 'off with her head' manner to anyone she didn't like and her trailing scarf slipping off her shoulders."
Born in 1867 in Leyton, Essex, Rosa Ovenden was one of nine children ( who all survived- not a usual state of affairs for Victorian off-spring. ) Daddy was a Watchmaker who also moonlighted as an Undertaker.
Rosa was educated at school from ages 8-12, at which time she was considered old enough to earn a living. She started out as a maid locally and managed 4 years before handing in her notice and setting off for London with a good reference.
Next stop was Sheen House in Mortlake where she scrubbed floors for several months- then being promoted to:- washing up/ gutting poultry/ and then to making tea and coffee.
Once she had achieved the dizzying heights of toast-making she began to enter a realm that she was to dance expertly between for the rest of her life- both 'Upstairs and Downstairs'.
The Comte and Comtesse de Paris entertained a good deal, and Rosa came to the attention of the Prince of Wales who complemented her on the excellence of her ptarmigian pie. Rosa did not take the credit for this explaining that she 'only took the innards out of the birds, sir'.
Soon Rosa was 'lent-out' to various households. Acquiring skills along the way, Rosa struck out again, achieving an excellent reference to seek her next post with.
Lady Randolph Churchill had long been a heroine to Rosa as the young American heiress Jenny Jerome, and it is likely that the Churchills had dined at Sheen House and were aware of the talented cook's reputation. In any case, Rosa was hired, and her first big dinner party an unqualified success. It seems that one of her strengths was to perform wonders without any fuss. She merely let off steam by swearing.
Once again, Rosa's employer deigned to lend her out to friends, and Rosa flourished, cooking for many of the big houses in London society. She commanded high fees, and sent much of her wages home to her family.
Age 25, her parents increased pressure on her marrying. It's not clear why the indomitable Rosa bent to her parents wishes, indeed it's never quite clear factually as to why Rosa did or didn't do things. She was adept at not answering questions directly, and a dab-hand at red-herrings. Anyway marry she did, taking a whole afternoon off work, and wearing her day-clothes. The unfortunate Excelsior Lewis must have felt that her heart wasn't quite in it from the off.
Moving to the suburbs with the addition of Excelsior's disapproving sister, did nothing to improve matters. Rosa dutifully stayed at home for a while- eventually setting off on daily 'cycling trips' back to her favourite hunting-ground in London. The sister's sniffy disapproval didn't help, and one day Rosa announced that she was going back to work- having asked her hard-drinking spouse why he didn't get a job.
She threw herself back into her first love with aplomb, and her success now allowed her to surround herself with a team of pretty-kitchen maids all in a row. Then, she teamed up with a grocer called Jackson in Piccadilly, selling him her prepared cured hams. Parties were announced as 'Rosa Lewis is going to do the supper' which became the accustomed forecast of a good party.
Excelsior became jealous, and morose.
An opportunity presented itself to Rosa, when she heard that the nearby Cavendish Hotel in Jermyn St was to come up for rent. She calculated that she could afford it, and intended for Excelsior and the dreaded sister to live at the property and run it as an Hotel, thus killing three birds with one stone. Hubby nearby, Hubby busy working, and Hubby earning money.
Hubby didn't. Lonely and drunk most of the time, Jackson the grocer alerted Rosa to the fact that bills were not being paid and her husband was taking solace in the arms of late night drinking buddies.
Rosa asked Excelsior for the accounts. There weren't any. He was unmethodical, extravagant and lazy.
Mrs Lewis had had enough. Taking the cash-box out of its hiding place in the oven, and apparently brandishing a kitchen knife, she drove both Mr Lewis and sister Laura out of the establishment, hurling a valley of pots and pans terrifying the pair sufficiently never to return. Lawyers provided evidence of his adultery and the divorce was made final.
She spent the next sixteen months quietly busying away and paying off each of the creditors owed by her husbands mis-management.
Now Rosa put all she had learned thus far together and set about furnishing the Cavendish in a comfortable 'Country-home' style. She built suites with bathrooms where Prince's and Lords could entertai privately ( with Rosa Lewis doing the supper of course. ) The reputation of her establishment rapidly spread, and excellently situated in Mayfair near St James Palace, it became quite the place to stay. Rosa being her unique self- ran it according to her own rules. Rich guests often picked up the drinks bills for other guests, and it was not unusual to find guests that couldn't pay, working off their debt washing dishes in the kitchen.
A donkey occupied one of the rooms upstairs.
If Rosa did not like the look of someone or other- they were refused a room. On one infamous occasion, the friend of one of Rosa's dislikes was inscensed by her illogical decision against a Gent she deemed a 'writer, and you know we don't have their sort here' ( he wasn't, but Rosa used this as her term for the lowest of the low- never accepting any difference between a historian/novelist or hack. )
So, the friend decided to make a protracted game of getting the disliked young man into the Cavendish whenever he could. This involved coming in through the laundry, or under cover of darkness, through a window or other smuggling activities. He was caught and thrown out several times. Eventually both tired of the game, giving it up for several months. Their swan-song after an interval was an elaborate ruse, booking the fellow in as a Portuguese Man of War, and holding a drinks party for him. Rosa was introduced to the Military Man, complete with facial hair disguise and accent. Immediately she took against him, calling him a 'writer' and throwing him out for the last time.
Rosa has Island credentials too. For her own reasons, she decided that 'Castle Rock', a house next door to the Royal Yacht Squadron at Cowes, was to be her 'little house'. She paid way over the odds to secure it, bidding against the heavyweight Squadron. She won. The house was bought from Emma Cust's estate. Mrs Cust had entertained Rosa's sometime employer Edward VII there. It had a separate
Ball-room or Pavilion ( which were the remains of Hippsley House, which was once owned by George II.)
The Royal Yacht Squadron were embarrassed into accepting Ladies onto their lawns in the racy twenties. All well and good, but there were no 'conveniences' available for females. Mrs Lewis drove a very hard bargain indeed, eventually selling the Ball-room to the Squadron so the Ladies might be comfortable.
I like Rosa, just as I like Julia. Two 'forces of nature' likened to the Red and White Queens in Lewis Carroll's work. Agatha Raisin in the M.C, Beaton books is another. Idiosyncratic Women, who beat to their own drums, following their own paths- right or wrong, and taking their mistakes on the chin. I think they all smiled easily, cried easily, and picked themselves up just as easily.
What will you do, my little 'hiding in my push-chair' Grand-daughter?
The World is your Lobster...
Your ever-loving Grand-mother GiGi, xxx
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