Fox-Strangeways

Some time ago I was doing some research about Holland Park. In the course of reading up on its history and development, I came across a series of Earls of the British peerage with possibly the most fabulous surname ever: Fox-Strangeways.

Okay, actually, technically, officially, it's Fox-Strangways but in my mind I inserted an "e" because... well... it just transforms it from being pretty awesome into entirely marvellous.

Here's one of them, Henry ol' chap, 5th Earl of Ilchester, as caricatured in Vanity Fair:

Henry Fox-Strangways in Vanity Fair, 1882 (Image source)

And where do you think these Fox-Strangways folk lived? Well, right here, of course:

Holland House in 1896 (Image source)

You can't make this stuff up.

I am now contemplating changing my surname to Fox-Strangeways. I wonder if there's a dashing Fox-Strangways bachelor still out there, carrying on the family name? If so, I could marry him and then "accidentally" slip in a convenient "e" when I fill out the official forms to change my name. Alternatively, I could just have my name changed by deed poll anyway, but that might seem a little bit... affected.

In the meantime, I've decided to set myself to drawing a character of my own creation called Lord Fox-Strangeways. I'm not sure if he's going to be human or vulpes yet... I might let you know how I get on, depending on how he turns out.

Jubilee Flypast

I'm probably the last blogger to say it, but hope everyone had a fabulous Diamond Jubilee weekend, however you celebrated and wherever you are in the world. One of my quiet highlights of the festivities was the flypast on the last day. I was actually working that day but my few colleagues and I who were in the office all climbed up to the fifth-storey roof terrace at 3.30 to see if we could spot the planes flying over on their way to Buckingham Palace. As it turns out, we were directly under the flight path so got to watch as the Dakota and two King Air aircraft flew over, followed by the Lancaster,  Hurricane and Spitfires rumbling over, and then the Red Arrows whizzing over, letting out their coloured trails just after passing us. It was pretty special! Like our own private airshow. 

Seeing (and hearing!) the Lancaster is always pretty special for me and makes me a bit emotional because my wonderful grandparents met when my grandfather was flying Lancasters in World War II.

My grandfather with his fellow pilots in front of a Lancaster

My grandmother enlisted in the WAAF and began as a Telephone Operator in Balloon Command, the unit responsible for controlling barrage balloons. She then trained as a Radio Telephone Operator and moved to Bomber Command, instructing the men up in the planes. Christened Edith, she was a Birmingham girl who trained herself to speak properly and earned the nickname Vicky, as she spoke as well as Queen Victoria.

My beautiful grandmother after the war

My grandfather, Ken, also enlisted when the war began. He began training as a pilot in Australia and then completed his training here in England. He was posted to Bomber Command in the RAF, based at Lichfield. He rose to the dignified position of Squadron Leader and bravely flew out on countless operations, from which thousands of men never returned.

My handsome grandfather in uniform

Apparently, the two met after my grandfather heard my grandmother's voice over the radio and, rather taken by it, sought her out when his plane was back on English soil. They began dating but had to keep their romance under wraps as there would have been trouble if they were found to be fraternising.

However, they stayed together and, once the war was over, they were married. The rest, as they say, is history, with children and grandchildren, and incredibly full and generous lives which still carry on today, into their nineties. I'm very blessed to be related to such a wonderful, beautiful pair, and to still have them in my life.

The lovely couple

And that's why I get emotional whenever I see a Lancaster!

Kaspar's Tale (aka The Lucky Black Cat)

As promised, I now bring you the strange tale of Kaspar the Cat.

The story begins with the millionaire, Woolf Joel.  He and his brothers, Jack and Soloman (Solly), grew up in the East End but had made their fortune with gold and diamond mining in South Africa, thanks to their uncle Barney Barnato.  In 1898, Joel gave a dinner party at the Savoy Hotel, a farewell before he headed off to South Africa.  There were supposed to be 14 people in the party, but one guest cancelled at the last minute.  Although warned that to have 13 guests would be bad luck, the party went ahead.  Having to retire relatively early to be ready for his departure abroad, Joel left the table before all his guests, dismissing the superstition that whoever left the table first would be destined to die first.

Mere weeks later, in his office in Johannesburg, Joel was shot dead by a blackmailer, Baron Kurt von Veltheim.  When this news reached the Savoy back in London, they knew that they couldn't risk such ill fortune falling upon another one of their guests.  As such, whenever there happened to be a party of 13 guests, they would recruit a member of staff to join the table.  However, this set up was less than satisfactory as the party would often wish to discuss private or personal matters, in which case it simply wouldn't do to have a stranger in their midst.  And this it where Kaspar comes in...

The solve the problem, Basil Ionides, who was responsible for the redecoration of the Savoy Theatre in the late 1920s, was brought in for an extra, unusual commission - to design and craft a 14th guest who could sit in on dinner parties without imposing on the conversation of the guests.  And thus, Kaspar was born.  This beautiful Art Deco cat was carved from a single piece of plane tree.  Whenever there is a party of 13, he is seated on the 14th chair with a napkin tied around his neck and is served up every course, like all other guests.

When he's not indulging in luxurious meals, he can be found in the hotel lobby, enabling goofy people like me to pose with him...

 

I will return soon with more tales of my evening at the Savoy, including the architecture, the cocktails and my new favourite dress!