Hailes Abbey: Mosaic Monday

In 1535 Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, and Henry's right hand man, Thomas Cromwell, went on a royal tour. Henry and Anne stayed at nearby Sudeley Castle, while Thomas lodged at Hailes Abbey, founded in the 13th century.

Below the center arch of the ruins in the photo above is a long washbasin. The refectory door, where the monks dined, is on the right. Before entering the refectory, the monks would wash their hands in the basin, which was supplied with rainwater from pipes on the roof. 

Perhaps Cromwell also washed and ate there, enjoying the hospitality of the abbot and the monks. Yet, on Christmas Eve in 1539 he sat on his horse on a hill above the abbey and watched as the destruction he had ordered began. 

The history that led to the dissolution of the monasteries is long and complicated, with intrigue, greed, desire for control, lust and romance tangled together. Hilary Mantel authored Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, which tell the tale of Thomas Cromwell, his ascent to power and his decline.

On a warm July morning we wandered through the ruins, mostly alone, passing under arches and through doorways, trying to grasp the enormity of this place and something of the everyday lives of those who once lived here. 

I had always assumed that these massive ruins and others like them were constructed of cut stone. How wrong I was. Rough stones are mortared together in thick walls as seen above, which are then faced with cut stone. Much more efficient.

Over the years, seeds lodged in the stones, took root, and grew so that the ruins appear to have tufts of fine, golden hair growing atop. 

Sheep pasture undisturbed by history on the hills above the ruins. There is an informative museum on the site that explains the Abbey's story in more detail. 

Water trickles through channels constructed long ago. Cow parsley waves in the wind, much as it did centuries past. Visiting history always leaves me with an awareness of my smallness in the grand scheme of things, but also aware that although technology advances, people's motivations and emotions remain the same. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life. 

A Gentry Estate in Wales

It's really hard to grasp that one month ago we were in Wales. A lot has happened since then and our trip seems a little distant already. There are many sites I've not yet shared here, and it's a great memory-jogger when I do. 

So let's visit Llanerchaeron - my cousin told me that the pronunciation of the "Ll" is like saying an "L" with the tongue towards the front palate and letting air pass on both sides of the mouth. Try it - I think it's a little bit like a "CL" sound. Correct me if I'm wrong.

While going through my photos, I realized that I did not take a photo of the outside of this Georgian villa, designed by John Nash in 1795. Nash later went on to design Buckingham Palace, Regent Street, and Brighton Pavilion. So I took the above photo from the Llanerchaeron site.  

Nash was all about symmetry. The dining room is to the left of the front door in the top photo. The sideboard at the back of this photo is the front of the house. You'll notice there's no window on that wall in the dining room. But there is one outside. It's fake, just there for symmetry. 

Llanerchaeron is a small estate, as estates go. Ten generations of the Lewis/Lewes family. It's been well preserved and displays the self-sufficiency of an estate more than any other site we've seen. 

The wash-basin stand in the photo above looks as though it was created especially for the curve of the wall.

In the enormous kitchen, this dresser of china caught my eye with the blue and white. Teresa, my cousin, told me that this is Burleigh Ware, made in England from Devon and Cornwall clay. I went onto the Burleigh site after arriving home and am now thinking that Burleigh Ware may be in my future. 

There's a great article on the site that tells how to achieve the "Dresser Look". 

A focal point of any kitchen is the stove - this one is massive. I can't imagine the heat it would generate on a hot day like the one when we visited. 

The house where the family lived is not particularly large and the supports needed for such an estate are much more expansive. We saw the stables, the coach house, the cow barn and pig sties, complete with animals. 

After touring the living quarters and kitchen, we visited the cellar where beer was stored for the staff, and wine for the family. There were laundry rooms, servants sleeping quarters, a cheese room, salting room, scullery, baking kitchen and more. It really gave a picture into the "upstairs-downstairs" aspect of life for decades before the First World War. Such an estate provided work and sustenance for a large community of people.  

The walled garden was especially interesting. Within the micro-climate created by the high stone walls, food and flowers were grown to last the year. Several years ago we watched the BBC production The Victorian Garden that documented each month of the garden. It was so interesting to see such a garden, once neglected, now being brought back to life. 

Isn't the door pretty - all those coats of paint add so much character. 

Signs asked visitors to be careful about closing the doors to the garden as the farmyard animals were not welcome there.

The glass house held geraniums and other tender plants, including tomatoes. 

Roses adorn various outbuildings and small offices. 

Roses and brick or stone walls make a wonderful pair. 

Llanerchaeron gave such a complete picture of life on a small estate. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. 

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life. 

Walking Through the Past

In 1605, a group of French explorers established their country's first successful settlement in North America. With the help of the local Mi'kmaq nation, they survived quite well in Port-Royal until the British invaded and burned it all to the ground in 1613. Fortunately no lives were lost, but the French relied heavily on the good will of the Mi'kmaq for survival in the following winter.

In the 1930s the Habitation of Port-Royal, as it was known, was rebuilt, following plans of the original Habitation that had been found in France.

You didn't come here for a history lesson, I'm sure. But the site was very interesting. Even in the barest of survival modes, class structure was preserved with the lowly fellows sharing the loft for sleeping, the cartographer (Samuel de Champlain) and the priests having private quarters, and the nobleman leader, Sieur de Monts, with a downstairs sitting room and an upstairs bedroom. His window was leaded glass, as seen above.
 

This historical interpreter is turning wood on a lathe....
 

run by foot-power. He pumps the springy wood to turn the lathe. Many of the interpreters wore wooden sabots and said they were quite comfortable. More importantly, they kept one's feet dry.
 

The dining room, set with pewter. Here the men congregated and here Samuel de Champlain came up with the Order of Good Cheer (l'Ordre de Bons Temps), designed to help infuse the long winter months with good food and entertainment. Even here the class structure prevailed, with likely only 15 of the 70 or so men considered of sufficient standing to be full members of the club. The others benefited as well, but were not members.

Tourists and historians alike need to eat lunch. We enjoyed some delicious chowder, homemade bread and German pastry in this restaurant in Annapolis Royal, just across the river from Port-Royal.
 

After the destruction of the Habitation, the settlement moved across the river. This piece of land changed hands seven times over the next couple of centuries - French to British and back again. Wars in Europe had their effect in the New World, as well.

In Annapolis Royal we visited the star fort constructed by the French in the 18th century. The building above was officers' quarters and now houses a museum.

 

The earth fortifications were designed to absorb cannon fire. The steep banks take some effort to scramble up and down.
 

It's often the small things that speak to me of life as it was in the past. I picked up this teapot, expecting some heft to it. However, it's light as a feather and made of tin. Such a fun squat little shape to it.
 

The old armoury is the only other building left. The walls are massively thick and the wind whistles through special vents designed to keep the place cool in summer.
 

In the museum is a very large, four-panel needlepoint tapestry telling the history of the area from Mi'kmaq through to modern day. The Queen of England came by Halifax several years ago and the tapestry was brought to her to insert a few stitches. Out came her glasses from her handbag and she sat down and stitched. Apparently she has never done needlepoint, but the guide said that her stitches were very even, nonetheless.
 

We wandered through the graveyard, where the oldest English gravestone in Canada is located, dating to 1720. We didn't find that particular stone. Many of the stones were so weathered that deciphering the words was impossible.

This monument to the Sieur de Monts was erected in 1904.
 

In Port-Royal we were greeted by this handsome Frenchman - perhaps a distant relative of one of the original settlers?

We also visited the Historic Garden in Annapolis Royal. I'll show you some of that next time. 

 

Postcard #5: Annapolis Royal

The years of history come alive here. Wars in Europe directly affected this land that changed hands numerous times over 400 years of European habitation. 

What we saw today:  remnants of French and British military occupation - a most lovely historical garden that had me wanting to move here just to work in it - a  reconstruction of the first settlement in 1604 complete with interpreters wearing period costume. 

Wild winds blew from a cloudy sky. No rain. In the garden the wind tossed the branches of oaks and maples. Sibilant whispers of leaves. Wafts of lilacs, purple, white, deep violet. Rhododendrons. I didn't want to leave. 

An Impromptu Picnic

It was one of those Sunday afternoons when it seemed like summer would linger forever, the golden sunshine pouring down on rocks, sand, and sea.
 

The blue of the ocean melded into the blue sky with only a thin line of blue mountains between. Sere grass golden against swirled cloud blue. A good day for a picnic with a view.
 

Wind-patterned water smooth, then dimpled with big boats, little boats and medium-sized boats going here and there, to and fro, barely visible in all the great blueness.
 

Fort Rodd Hill - a national park of Canada right here in our city. Summer day, summer day. Achingly beautiful summer day.

Late Winter at Butchart Gardens

At the time of our Christmas Day visit to Butchart Gardens I upgraded my entrance ticket to a season's pass. I sort of forgot about it until a couple of weeks ago. Since then, I've been watching the skies and my calendar, looking for a dry, not-occupied day to walk through the gardens.

From January 15 to March 15 part of the original house is open to the public with historical documents and artifacts chronicling some of the history of the gardens and of the Butchart family. You can read more of the history online. Above is a small garden room. The pink rose wallpaper is covered with a gray-painted wooden trellis. Sitting there would feel like being in a garden, especially with the white wicker furniture.
 

Isn't this a pretty little causeuse, or conversation chair? It's designed so two people can sit facing each other to chat, or "causer" in French.

The billiards room is very large, with window seats on each end of the room, several sofas, a player piano and a grand piano, along with a couple of desks and display cases. I noticed that some of the old photos showed a swimming pool someplace, so I asked the assistant about it. He opened a door off the billiard room "behind the scenes" and showed me where the pool had been. It was an indoor salt-water pool, now cracked and covered to prevent any mishaps.
 

From the billiard room and the garden room, the windows open onto the Italian Garden. This area was once a tennis court, but it was little used and so converted into the garden seen above. The wing of the house visible on the right is long and narrow and was originally a bowling alley - so the grandchildren would be entertained. It now houses a gardening library.

Here's a view of the house from the Italian Garden. The Butcharts moved to Victoria from Owen Sound, Ontario, to start up a Portland Cement factory. When you read the history of the gardens, you'll discover that Jenny Butchart decided to beautify the huge empty hole that resulted from quarrying the limestone. She had tons of topsoil hauled in and began planting. What vision she had. Tod Inlet adjoins the gardens, and I wrote about a walk we took there last January.

I'll show more of the gardens themselves tomorrow. It's a great time of year to visit. Not many crowds, and although the blooms are few, the structure of the garden is clearly visible. 

Have you visited Butchart Gardens? I'm always surprised by the number of people who have, from all over the world. 

A Taste of Vancouver Architecture

The City of Vancouver is Canada's third largest city, and its busiest harbour. In preparation for the World Fair of 1986, the city built Canada Place. The building, a conference center, replicates a grand sailing ship. 
 

Walking along the promenades outside of the building does evoke walking around a ship. The green glass windows and white railings contribute to the ship experience.
 

Just a few blocks away from the modern lines of Canada Place is the Dominion Building. When it was completed in 1910 it was the tallest building in the British Empire. Financing for the building was provided by the Counts von Alvensleben, and it's widely accepted that they were a front for the Kaiser's money. Thus, it could be said that the Empire's tallest building was financed by the Empire's greatest rival. 

We were downtown Victoria on Canada Day and drifted into conversation with a couple from the Netherlands. They commented that there was nothing old here. They are right. Recorded history is just a few hundred years old, and most architecture is less than 150 years old. The Dutch couple said that they missed the sense of history one gets in Europe.

edited to add:   There was no slight implied in the comments by the Dutch couple. We completely agreed with them. In Europe there is a sense of being surrounded by history - by buildings that are 1000 years old or older, by cultures that have evolved over many, many generations. We have felt that just by visiting there. Coming to a young country, such as Canada, one simply does not have that same sense.

Every day we are forming history. What will be remembered of our culture in another 500 years? It's a sobering thought. Perhaps more sobering is how I as an individual will be remembered. Every day I form my own history. 

Linking to posts about architecture hosted by Mary of the Little Red House.

Afternoon at the Museum

Changeable. That's the word to describe our weekend weather. Friday was unsettled, then warmed up and the sun shone. We had guests for dinner and began out on the deck, enjoying the summer evening. We finished the last bites of the main course in between raindrops and moved the gathering indoors for dessert. We had ringside seats to a spectacular and unusual lightning display. 

Saturday: warm and sunny.

Sunday: Grey clouds. Mist hung over the city. We went downtown and took in a little of the Mexican fiesta in Centennial Square, admiring the grace and enthusiasm of the dancers who didn't let a little fine rain stop them.

Then to the Royal B. C. Museum to take in a couple of special exhibits. One on dinosaurs, the other on Cecil Beaton's photographs of Queen Elizabeth II. The dinosaurs didn't hold my interest, so Tim and I went our separate ways, and I enjoyed the photographic exhibition on my own. What struck me is the immense effort that went into these portraits - lighting props, elaborately painted backdrops, ladders, assistants - to make them into the works of art we enjoy. 

We met up to tour the First Nations exhibit where I learn something new every time I visit, and concluded with hot chocolate in the cafe. It was that kind of day.

I hope you've had a good weekend, as I have, regardless of the weather. 

Joining Mary of the Little Red House for another Mosaic Monday.

Thoughts on Being Canadian

Today is Canada Day, which marks the joining together of the colonies of New Brunswick, Canada (present day Ontario and Quebec), and Nova Scotia into a federation of four provinces on July 1, 1867.
Tim and I celebrated by visiting Fort Rodd Hill Historic Park where red and white t-shirts, picnicking families, and festivities marked the day. 
The park is also home to Fisgard Lighthouse, the oldest lighthouse on the west coast of Canada. The building is beautifully maintained, with interactive displays for visitors of all ages. 

 Wandering through the somewhat crowded space, I was struck most by the gorgeous vistas seen through sparkling glass held by pristine window frames. A lot of care has gone into the caretaking of this site. 

A rather strong wind blew the clouds away and we lifted our faces to the sun and welcomed the warmth. I hope it returns every day.

Fort Rodd Hill was constructed at the end of the 19th century, in conjunction with Britain who feared war with Russia. No shots were ever fired in war, no battles ensued here. The gun emplacements, one of which is seen above, are now empty. Children climb on the embankments. Families play games, couples lounge on blankets spread on the grass.

As part of the festivities, there was a shooting display. I recently re-read Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front, and when the machine gun stat-stat-stat sounded, I thought how terrible it would have been to exist in the trenches under such a barrage of noise and fear for days on end, as the soldiers of World War I experienced. 

How fortunate are we who live in peace. Much of the world is not so blessed. The UK is celebrating the Queen's Jubilee Year and the Olympics. Later this month both the USA and France celebrate their Independence and Bastille Days. Let us celebrate humbly, knowing that freedom is precarious and hard-won. 

Happy Canada Day! 

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary at the Little Red House.