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©THE FAN MUSEUM TRUST
Museum
The Fan Museum
12 Crooms Hill, Greenwich
GREENWICH’S DELIGHTFUL Fan Museum—the only one of its kind in the world—is a tiny jewel box of an affair, exuding an air of elegance from the second one steps in from the street—the charming Crooms Hill. The museum itself is housed in two Grade II–listed buildings dating back to 1721.
The ground floor houses the permanent collection of fans and fan-making equipment. Garnered from all over the world, the fans, dating from the 11th century to the present day, have been displayed with immaculate taste. The museum owns more than 3,500 fans, and more are being bequeathed all the time. There’s no way the museum can possibly display all these at once, so, very cleverly, the second part of the collection upstairs is a temporary exhibition, which changes three times a year, thus engendering a devoted following of regular visitors. From February through June the special exhibition running will be “A Touch of Dutch—Royal Fans from The House of Orange.”
The more closely you look at the museum the more you realize that everything within and without is fan-shaped. The “secret” garden at the back, in British-Japanese style, the parterres and pond are fan-shaped—even the wrought iron gazebo has fan-shaped struts.
The best time to visit the Fan Museum is on a Tuesday or Sunday afternoon when afternoon tea is served in the exquisite Orangery. For shopaholics, the tiny shop is an Aladdin’s cave of fan-themed dainties.
www.fan-museum.org
Sandra Lawrence
Restaurant
Ciro’s
7-8 Bishopsgate Churchyard
IT MAY SEEM STRANGE to recommend a restaurant whose food is at best described as average. But nobody goes to Ciro’s for the food. For this is one of London’s few remaining survivors of the Victorian craze for “Turkish Baths.” What’s more—it’s subterranean.
At the height of their popularity, there were around 60 public “Turkish” baths; now only a couple remain. Broad Street Turkish Baths managed to survive World War II bombs and the wrecking balls following the war. Tucked away behind Liverpool Street Station, all that’s visible at ground level is a tiny, rather exotic-looking kiosk, a combination of gothic and Victorian general-purpose “Eastern” interior design, with stained-glass minaret-windows, colorful faïence tiles, terracotta molding and a Moorish onionshaped dome that would have held the old water tanks. This merely houses the staircase down to what would have been the old steam rooms, dating back to 1871 (though the amazing decoration is from 1894).
Downstairs, the old baths themselves and the marble seats are now sadly blocked off; but the former steam rooms, with their stunning tiled ceilings, columns and exotic mirrors remain, even if the opulent Alhambra-inspired couches and carpets have to be left to the imagination. The place currently houses the City branch of the Ciro’s pizzerias. Personally, I look forward to a time when the place is more sympathetically used, but for now, it’s definitely worth the price of a not-bad pizza to enjoy this stunning venue.
www.ciros-bishopsgate.co.uk
Sandra Lawrence
Window Shopping?
The London Silver Vaults
Chancery Lane
STAYING WITH THE SUBTERRANEAN theme, a visit to the London Silver Vaults instills in one an almost Dickensian feel. They’ve been in Chancery Lane for more than 100 years and have been a Mecca for silver dealers for decades. A series of underground “streets” of secure lock-up shops, the heavy metal doors open to reveal a cavalcade of silverware from trinkets costing a few pounds to elaborate masterpieces that won’t leave much change from a quarter of a million.
From the ultimate in restrained taste to the frankly vulgar, there is something for everyone: old Sheffield plate, jewelry, watches, cutlery, goblets, wine-coolers, napkin rings, a giant ice bucket shaped like Cutty Sark and a family of giant silver elephants.
Although silver is never cheap, there are genuine bargains to be found. For the average visitor-off-the-street, there is an almost naughty sense of forbidden fruit—it feels as though you shouldn’t be there—and yet it is open to ordinary folk as well as trade. I always think of the place as being filled solely with antiques, but a lot of modern designs are creeping into this murky world, which glimmers and sparkles in the dark like pirate treasure as one descends from the street.
www.thesilvervaults.com
Sandra Lawrence
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COURTESY OF LONDON SILVER VAULTS
Book
Elizabeth & Leicester: Power, Passion, Politics by Sarah Gristwood,Viking, New York, 370 pages, hardcover, $27.95.
IN THE PREFACE TO HER TOPNOTCH historical study, Sarah Gristwood notes that the relationship between Britain’s Queen Elizabeth I and her courtier, Robert Dudley (Earl of Leicester) is “no easy Romeo and Juliet love story.”
Elizabeth Tudor (1533–1603) is a favorite among England’s long list of sovereigns. When she was informed at age 25 that she was now Queen of England, immediately William Cecil (Lord Burghley), who would become her loyal, lifelong secretary, set to work forming a new government. Although Cecil would play a leading role in Elizabeth’s reign, it was Robert Dudley who would star in the Queen’s life. He became her irreplaceable “sweet Robin.”
For centuries historians have attempted to determine whether or not the two had a sexual relationship. Even today the massive interest in this point fails to abate. Did they or didn’t they? In Gristwood’s well-informed opinion, based on years of research, it is simply impossible to know with any degree of certainty.
Elizabeth and Robert Dudley had first met as young children among the courts of King Henry VIII. The new queen instantly made Dudley her Master of Horse, a position that would guarantee proximity to her. The two encountered each other almost daily, not just as courtier and queen but as a man and woman enormously attracted to each other.
When she assumed the throne, questions arose about whom the queen should marry in order to ensure the succession and England’s world position. Buoyed by her sudden power, Elizabeth flirted shamelessly with Dudley. When very young, he had wed a noblewoman from Norfolk named Amy Robsart. Two years into Elizabeth’s reign, Amy died mysteriously, prompting cruel speculation that either Elizabeth or Dudley, or the two conspiring together, had murdered her so that they could wed. Gristwood contends that Amy was most likely killed by an accidental fall.
When Elizabeth miraculously recovered from smallpox a few years into her reign, she declared that in another such emergency, Robert Dudley should become Protector of the Realm. After bestowing on Dudley the title of “Earl of Leicester,” Elizabeth settled his political importance by appointing him to her privy council.
If the most lucrative gift Elizabeth gave Leicester was that of influence, she also showered him with material gifts. Through the Queen’s largess, Leicester acquired estates in 20 counties.
Popular history gives credit for the English victory over the Spanish Armada to Francis Drake and other sailors, but Queen Elizabeth recognized the pivotal part Leicester played. Leicester’s health began to fail in the weeks following the sinking of the Spanish fleet. He contracted malaria and died on September 4, 1588.
In graceful prose, Gristwood observes that Elizabeth and Leicester’s contemporaries attributed their lifelong fidelity to “synaptia”—a hidden conspiracy of the stars, whose power to rule human lives at that time no one doubted.
Katherine Bailey
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