Seizing the Moment

October 24, 2022October 24, 2022 / RGilbert

If the news articles about Rishi Sunak becoming the new Prime Minister of the United Kingdom would only add a simple graphic, we would not need to read the entire story. At a glance, we would see which boxes are checked. Among other bits of trivia, most of the reports point out that he is the youngest person to hold this office in 200 years. At 42-years-old, Mr. Sunak is eighteen years older than William Pitt the Younger was, when he became Prime Minister of Great Britain in 1783. Like Rishi Sunak, Mr. Pitt had been Chancellor of the Exchequer prior to his rise to the Tory leadership position.

Palace of Westminster from Victoria Tower Gardens

William Pitt was 21-years old in 1780, when he was elected to the House of Commons with the help of his friend Charles Manners, Duke of Rutland. The Duke had connected Mr. Pitt with a wealthy landowner, who sponsored the young man’s candidacy for a rotten borough under his control. A rotten borough was a district that should not have been entitled to any representation in Parliament, because it had become depopulated. These boroughs were often corrupt, because their MPs were usually beholden to powerful, self-interested patrons.

Just 20-years-old when he was elected to Parliament in 1774, Charles Manners was even younger than Mr. Pitt had been. Representing the constituency of Cambridge University, he was known at the time as the Marquess of Granby. He served for five years, until he became Duke of Rutland upon the death of his grandfather. Not long after becoming Duke of Rutland, Charles Manners raised the 86th Regiment of Foot for service in the American Revolutionary War. He asked his friend Anthony St. Leger to come out of his retirement from the military and lead it. Colonel St. Leger, the founder of the horse racing world’s classic St. Leger Stakes, readily agreed. He shipped out to St. Lucia with his troops, to defend an important British port against the French fleet, and returned to England in 1781, in time for the September running of the St. Leger Stakes at Doncaster. In recognition of St. Leger’s inspiring leadership in the West Indies, King George III promoted him to Major General.

In February 1783, Charles Manners became Lord Steward of the Household of King George and a member of the Privy Council. The following February, Prime Minister Pitt appointed Charles to be Lord Deputy of Ireland. Anthony St. Leger accompanied the Duke of Rutland to Dublin Castle as Major General on his staff.

Charles was a lively, popular man. Despite his marriage to Mary Isabella Somerset, who was considered to be the most elegant and beautiful woman of her time, Charles had a reputation for licentiousness. He also had a love for rich food and red wine and would often forego sleep. His fast-paced living took its toll. At the time of his tragic death from liver disease in 1787, Charles was 33-years old, nine years younger than the age of United Kingdom’s youngest prime minister in 200 years.

Lord Rockingham’s Passion

October 20, 2022 / RGilbert

Liz Truss made history by resigning as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom on October 19, 2022, after only 44 days in office. It was 240 years ago, on July 1, 1782, when the second term of Prime Minister Charles Watson-Wentworth, Marquess of Rockingham, ended after only 96 days. The flu epidemic of 1782 took the life of 52-year-old Lord Rockingham. He had been successfully controlling his dropsy through diet and exercise but, like many of the early fatalities of the novel corona virus pandemic in 2020, a comorbidity inhibited his ability to fight the illness.

One of the wealthiest men in England, Lord Rockingham lived near Rotherham in South Yorkshire, England, in Wentworth Woodhouse, a 300-room estate that sprawled over 225 acres. Although he was an influential politician and served in the House of Lords, his passion was raising and racing horses. He kept 200 of them in his stables at his estate.

Lord Rockingham’s friend, Colonel Anthony St. Leger, lived at the nearby Park Hill Estate in Firbeck. They shared a passion for horses. In 1776, Colonel St. Leger moved an annual two-mile race from Firbeck to a better track at Doncaster. One of his fillies finished second behind the winner, a three-year-old filly owned by Lord Rockingham. Two years later, Lord Rockingham suggested that the annual race be named after its founder. To this day, the St. Leger Stakes is still run every September at Doncaster.

Horse racing in York, England, dates back to the Roman occupation, and the York Racecourse has been on its current site at Knavesmire since 1730. The first grandstand was built there in 1754, financed by 250 people under a subscription scheme devised by Lord Rockingham. The elegant two-story building with a rooftop viewing platform, designed by architect John Carr, was not only the first grandstand at the York Racecourse, it was the first one anywhere.

Whistlejacket by George Stubbs at the National Gallery, London

The painting of Lord Rockingham’s Arabian thoroughbred Whistlejacket by George Stubbs was acquired in 1997 by the National Gallery in London for £11 million. It caused a sensation when it was first commissioned about 1762. The rearing horse is depicted nearly life-size against a tan background. At the time, it was a departure from the expectation that the muscular animal would be depicted under the control of a rider against a scenic setting. It has been suggested that Lord Rockingham wanted the viewer to focus on the raw power and beauty of the horse, without any distraction. A plain colorfield was the best way to achieve this effect. Whistlejacket is now considered to be George Stubbs’ masterpiece.

London, Again

September 4, 2022 / RGilbert

It was exciting to be back in the amazing city of London. The last time I had been there was in the winter, mere days before the lockdowns went into effect. Never having been there in summer, I didn’t know if the large crowds I was seeing at my usual haunts were normal for this time of year or a pent-up response to the end of quarantines, social distancing, and masks. Maybe it was the hype from the Queen’s Jubilee, even though those celebrations had already ended.

Wouldn’t you know it, England was having a heatwave and a drought. No matter. I did not let 90℉ (32℃) temperatures slow me down. For centuries, St. James’s Park has been the place to go to see and be seen, and in all of the world, it is one of my favorite green spaces. When I first got to London, it still had temporary fences, walls, and partitions set up from the Jubilee events, restricting access to the roads and paths, making them feel especially jammed with tourists. The water in the ponds was overgrown with algae, and some of the gardens and lawns looked to be stressed from the lack of rain. But the birds and waterfowl were friendly enough.

Pelicans at St. James's Park — Pelicans in St. James’s Park

On my last night in England, I happened to click on the Health app icon on my iPhone. I had never looked at it before and certainly had not set it up. To my surprise, I discovered that it had been tracking my steps. My first day in London, I had walked more than eight miles, and on the second day I walked more than nine! On average, I had walked five miles a day, and that included some entire days when I was sitting in the reading rooms at the National Archives, doing research for the biography I am writing about a British soldier.

There is something extraordinarily energizing about London. My normal routine at home is to get out and walk several days a week, just to stretch my legs, while getting some fresh air and a little exercise. As much as I enjoy walking, after about 20 minutes I have usually had enough. Twenty-minutes in London is barely even a start. The streets in the central city are not laid out on a grid, so I have a tendency to get lost. Then I double down by indulging the urge to see what is beyond a gate, or through an arch, or at the end of a tunnel, or in the middle of a town square.

One autumn, I was in London for a few days, and I realized that I would not be able to go to the opera performance that I had a ticket for. I went to the Royal Opera House box office to exchange it. The young man who helped me told me that I was in luck. The best seat in the house happened to be available for the night I wanted to attend. He had no idea why it had not been snapped up, because usually the theatre executives would clamor for it when they saw it had not been sold.

The night of the opera, I found myself sitting next to a very elegant older woman, whose companion was a handsome young man. We spoke to each other during the intermission, and she mentioned that she was a season ticket holder. I told her I was visiting and that I loved London. She looked at me like she thought I was crazy. “Why?” she asked. Her question caught me off guard. “Because of all of the parks,” I replied. That really was the first thing that popped into my head, but I got the feeling that I passed a test. She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes,” she said. “I live near Regent’s Park.”

London, like any big city, has its flaws. But it has the River Thames, the Royal parks, the Palace of Westminster, the Horse Guards, the National Gallery, and innumerable streets and squares and historic buildings that call to me. Every time I am there, I return to them. Life is what we make of it. A two-and-a-half year pause can never be reclaimed. I was fortunate to be able to go back to a place I longed to see again. Perhaps I am luckier than many.

Crying time

February 27, 2021October 26, 2022 / RGilbert

One year ago today, on February 27, 2020, I was on a plane bound for London. There were a few more documents I wanted to review at the National Archives and one book I particularly had to see at the British Library. Two weeks after I got home, travel was restricted. As much as I would have liked to return to England, I was very grateful and relieved that I had gone when I did.

In January of 2019, I had been in London doing research for a new historical novel about the world of opera. It was exciting to stay in Covent Garden and attend a performance of the Royal Opera. On my last day in town, I indulged a whim to go see a portrait of a British Army officer that I had come across when I was writing my novel, A Moon Garden. When I saw the painting, I was captivated. The artist had masterfully captured the essence of a young, confident, strong, and beautiful man.

It was difficult to find out anything about this soldier, and I realized that the novel was going to have to wait. It had become my mission to uncover this man’s story and tell it. After researching for a year, I began writing. My pursuit of information was ongoing throughout the year that it took to complete the written chronology of the life of this inspiring man. When I was nearly finished, I became sad. As I wrote the last lines, I cried.

A friend recognized my symptoms. She laughed at me and said, “You did this last time too.”

“When I wrote A Moon Garden?”

“Yes,”

“I cried?”

“You got very emotional.”

I did. Writing the novel was a psychological journey. The main character was constantly faced with challenges and crises in matters of war, love, family, and community. As I wrote his story, I felt his worries, his joys, his internal conflicts. I would listen to arias while working at my desk and suddenly find myself weeping. But that was separate from what I experienced when I finished writing the book. A different kind of sadness enveloped me.

While I felt the thrill of accomplishment, I also had a sense of loss. After spending over a year researching and writing about my fictional characters, I had a strong attachment to them. Although I was glad at last to be able to share the story with my readers, it was an adjustment to let go and change my priorities. That is how I feel now about this soldier. For two years, I was singularly absorbed in connecting with him, discovering who he was, what he did, where he went, how he thought, why he made his choices. It is a relief to know that his story is closer to being known.

For a few minutes, I indulged in some crying time. The mood has passed. I still have work to do.

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An odd old book

May 27, 2020February 27, 2021 / RGilbert

Buying books is one of the pleasures of doing research. Of course I use digital resources, and visit libraries and archives, but sometimes there is a book that I want to hold in my hands and refer to over and over again. As I delved into the history of colonial America and Georgian England for background to my novel A Moon Garden, my personal library expanded a bit. The social, industrial, and geo-political transformations of the late 18th century intrigue me, and I am currently writing the biography of a British general who lived and died during this time. My quest for books about this period continues.

Recently I acquired The Story of the London Parks by Jacob Larwood. It was published in London and has no copyright date. There is, however, a hand-written inscription inside the front endpaper, indicating it was a New Year’s gift to Mrs. Goodings in 1888.

It’s a beautiful book, which includes several illustrations, including some in color. It is in remarkably good shape, thanks to the fact that it has never been read. This is apparent, because the pages must have been printed two-up or four-up, and they were not trimmed. Many of the pages would have to be cut apart in order flip through them. I prefer to leave the book the way it has been for over 130 years.

My knowledge of book printing and binding techniques of the 19th century is very limited. If anyone reading this can provide an explanation, please feel free to leave your comments.

I wonder if Mrs. Goodings’ admirer ever asked her opinion of the book. What would she have said?

A Moon Garden – Amazon UK

Under the clouds

April 5, 2020April 15, 2020 / RGilbert

It’s raining in California. Perhaps we need it, but if I had a say there would be a mix of warm sun and scattered layers of bright white clouds, with a cool breeze. My garden requires care, to check the rapid spring growth of weeds and new shoots on trees and shrubs. Even so, there is beauty in the wildness. Gradually, I will bring it to a more managed state.

The sun is shining in London. If I could, I would walk in Green Park. The old trees stand in silent witness to the generations that preceded us and endured. The daffodils display a legacy of renewal. Quiet and stillness belong here, under the sun, under the clouds, swept by the cool breeze.

AmazonUSA: A Moon Garden by Roxane Gilbert
AmazonUK: A Moon Garden by Roxane Gilbert

St Patrick’s Day musings on the Tower of London

March 17, 2020March 31, 2020 / RGilbert

Church of St Peter ad Vincula at the Tower of London
©Roxane Gilbert

Gerald Fitzgerald, 9th Earl of Kildare (1487-1534) has the dubious distinction of being the first prisoner to be buried in the Chapel Royal of St Peter ad Vincula after being incarcerated and dying in the Tower of London.

Upon his father’s death in 1513, Kildare succeeded him as Lord Deputy of Ireland. A fierce warrior, he is said to have “reduced Ireland to a quiet condition” in 1517 after storming Ulster and taking the Castle of Dungannon.

In response to accusations of mismanagement, Kildare was removed from office in 1518. He was replaced by Thomas Howard, the Earl of Surrey, followed by his brother-in-law, Piers Butler, the 8th Earl of Ormond. He was eventually reappointed Lord Deputy, but turmoil prevailed as a blood feud raged between him and Ormond.

In 1534 he travelled to London, where he was arrested, arraigned, and imprisoned at the Tower of London. Later that year he died of his grief, and was buried in the church at the Tower.

https://www.amazon.com/author/roxanegilbert

Bloomsbury, London

March 8, 2020March 31, 2020 / RGilbert

Artists John Everett Millais, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and William Holman Hunt founded the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood in 1848 in this house in London, where Mr. Millais grew up. The hotel where I stayed in the past week was just a few doors down. Between my time spent in museums, the National Archives, and the British Library doing research for my new book, and walking through this beautiful neighborhood, I thoroughly indulged my passions for history, art, and classic architecture!

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