Punch's Cousin, Chapter 202

Barbara Allen clutched her baby to her breast as she ran. She worried that the child would not have enough air. She’d covered him with her cloak so he’d not be noticed as she hurried, panting, through the streets of New Orleans. Her heart raced and she was gripped in panic, but couldn’t help feel a bit proud of herself for what she considered her extreme bravery. Creeping out of the attic cupboard and down the back stairs while Edward Cage screamed and bellowed—just inches away from her—was a courageous, if not foolish, decision.


“Not much longer, Colin,” Barbara cooed softly to the hidden child. She could feel the baby squirming in her arms—most likely confused and wondering why he’d been ripped away from a warm and comfortable house, not once, but twice in the same day.

When she reached Marie Laveau’s house, she approached it cautiously. She knew that at that time of the evening, Marie was out paying calls to the wealthy women in the Garden District. She just hoped that the other occupants of the house—Marie’s so-called family—were otherwise occupied with one of their strange endeavors.

Barbara slipped cautiously into the rear of the dirty building and was relieved to find the house quiet and empty. She quickly made her way up to the corner she’d been assigned and grabbed her satchel. Gently placing the baby on the mattress, she hoped it would not begin to cry and attract attention to them. Thankfully, the baby gurgled softly, just happy not to be bouncing around in the cold air.

From her satchel, Barbara withdrew the blonde wig she’d worn when she first went to Marionneaux as Ulrika Rittenhouse’s maid. Without aid of a mirror, she arranged the wig on her head, using her fingers to feel around her hairline, hopefully ensuring that her own dark tresses were decently contained.

“I will return,” She whispered to the baby.

Slipping into the corridor, she peered around a corner and looked into Marie’s room to make sure that it was empty. As quickly as she could, she snatched a brightly-colored shawl, dripping with silk fringe, from Marie’s bed and threw it across her shoulders.

“This will have to do,” She muttered, hurrying back to her child. Placing the handle of her satchel on the crook of her arm, she lifted the child and, again, covered him with her cloak. The baby protested by kicking at her, but he soon quieted down.

“We’re off, then,” Barbara mumbled. “Jackson Square. Oh, I do hope he comes…”

With that, Barbara rushed from Marie’s house.

Little did she know that Marie Laveau saw her flee down the street—her stolen shawl fluttering the evening wind.

“What’s that girl up to now?” Marie grinned as she followed.

Meanwhile, Robert and Cecil were searching the attic with Marjani and Charles while Adrienne, Meridian and Mr. Punch remained in the nursery.

“There’s not a trace of her.” Robert grumbled.

“Brazen thing—to sneak out with Edward and Ulrika ranting in the next room.” Cecil spat.

“Charles, can you imagine where she’s gone?” Robert asked.

“I’d guess that she’s on her way to the docks, Sir.” Charles answered.

“Why would she do this?” Cecil grunted. “We had everything all nicely sorted out.”

“Sure she panicked, Sir. She’s not thinking too clearly.” Charles said softly.

“I should say not.” Cecil sighed. “We’d best go tell Mr. Punch and Adrienne.”

When the men entered the nursery, Mr. Punch stood quickly, losing his balance slightly as he did. He gripped the back of a chair to steady himself.

“Well?” He croaked.

“She’s escaped.” Robert replied gently.

“Perhaps it’s for the best.” Adrienne said reassuringly.

“It ain’t no such thing!” Mr. Punch answered. “If you’ll pardon me bein’ objectionable.”

“I understand, dear Punch.” Adrienne replied.

“Listen, Chums, I ain’t lettin’ Barbara have that child. I won’t let her do to him what she done to herself, I won’t.”

“What can we do?” Cecil asked. “She clearly wants to be independent.”

“Don’t care what she wants,” Mr. Punch said firmly. We’re gonna find her.”

“Mr. Punch, you can’t leave the house. You’re still recovering.” Robert said pleadingly.

“Maybe I can. Maybe I can’t. But, Charles certainly can!” Mr. Punch said.

“Me, Sir?” Charles asked.

“She trusts you.” Mr. Punch nodded. “Now, go and find her.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-201? If so, you can read them here.

Goal for the Day: Decide for the Common Good

King George VI
The Royal Collection

Much like King George VI, very often, we’re put in unexpected positions wherein we’ve got to carry out actions that frighten us or that we simply don’t want to do. “Bertie” was quite content with his life as it was, and the prospect of being King George VI was a rather daunting one. Still, he carried on, because he knew that what he was doing was for the benefit of his people.


Now, the rest of us don’t have to worry about ruling an empire per se. However, each of us is in control of our own little realm. Sometimes, we have to make decisions based on what’s practical and necessary as opposed to what feels good or comfortable. With these decisions often comes immediate disappointment. But, that disappointment is always short-lived when you consider the overall benefits of your decision.

When you consider what’s best for your empire, even the hardest decisions have clear answers.

Object of the Day: A Souvenir of the Coronation That Never Happened, Edward VIII

King George V wasn’t too keen on the idea of his eldest son, known as “David” to the family, becoming king after his death. He and his Queen, Mary of Teck, both thought that David was too flighty and wild to be a good monarch. George V hoped that his son, “Bertie” would one day be king, but wasn’t quite sure how that would come to pass.


When George V died, David was next in line for the throne. He styled himself King Edward VIII and got about to business. Actually, he got about to keeping company with Wallis Simpson. That was the problem. Could this questionable divorcee possibly be the Queen Consort? Everyone had an opinion—especially Edward VIII.

In November of 1936, King Edward VIII (who had only been “King” since January) called the Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, to Buckingham Palace to express his desire to marry Wallis Simpson (when her divorce was final, of course). Baldwin informed the King that the British people would never accept the marriage and advised him to give up his foolish notions. Edward stated that if he couldn’t marry Mrs. Simpson, he would abdicate. Edward was given three choices: he could give up Mrs. Simpson, abdicate, or marry without the minister’s consent. He made his decision.

On the evening of December 11, 1936, King Edward VIII made his final broadcast as King. Addressing his people, he stated, "I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as king as I would wish to do without the help and support of the woman I love."

With his abdication, “Bertie” would become King—as George V wished. Bertie, unprepared for the throne and not really wanting to be king in the first place, styled himself as King George VI. This made his daughter, Elizabeth, the next in line for the throne. And, we all know how that worked out.

Since coronation plans for Edward VIII were already underway and since the British are a practical people, they kept the same coronation date for George VI. King George VI and his consort, Elizabeth (the Queen Mum), were crowned on May 12, 1937.

As was the case with any coronation, a variety of commemorative souvenirs had already been produced with the likeness of King Edward VIII. The majority of these were scrapped as new merchandise was manufactured with the faces of George VI and Elizabeth. Some of these pieces of Edward VIII memorabilia still survive, but they’re rare. Here’s one!

I find this mug, and its brother which also bears the grim face of Edward VIII, very amusing. I display it next to a commemorative mug of George V and Mary of Teck and the coronation mug of George VI and Queen Elizabeth which shows the same coronation date. To me, it’s a reminder that one should always be prepared for change.

Film of the Week: Harriet Craig, 1950

There are other people besides Joan Crawford in this 1950 Columbia Pictures film based on the play of the same name by George Kelly. Really, there are. But, Crawford dominates the entire picture and holds it in her tiny, polished claw. And, she should. Director Vincent Sherman was correct in letting Miss Crawford swagger and growl her way through the picture. It is, after all about a domineering woman with control issues and a lot of resentment. If you believe everything you read, then, you might think the picture was about Crawford herself.

Harriet Craig is a clinging, cold, manipulative, jealous, petty, neat-freak with a penchant for lying and keeping everything looking perfect. Hmmm… Regardless of any resemblance to the present-day image of Miss Crawford, Harriet Craig is a retelling of a story that had been around for quite some time. Kelly’s play was first produced in 1925 and spawned two film versions—one silent, in 1928, the other, in 1936 starring Rosalind Russell.

This was the period where Crawford had finally abandoned her shop-girl-makes-good persona for the broad-shouldered, hard woman roles which allowed her to continue her career well into her Pepsi Cola days. This wasn’t her first time at the rodeo.

Miss Crawford is perfectly steely and alternately vulnerable in the part as Harriet trounces through the lives of those around her and generally makes existence unbearable for her man’s man husband (played by Wendell Corey). They are joined by Lucile Watson, K.T. Stevens, Allyn Joslyn (a decade before he was driven to wild fits by The Addams Family) and the always-old Ellen Corby who doesn’t look as old as she did as “Grandma Walton,” but has the eternal, “frail, old lady vibe.”

Yes, it’s more than a little melodramatic. Yes, there’s scenery chewing. In fact, there’s some scenery-breaking. But, what do you expect from a Joan Crawford movie from 1950? That’s part of the appeal. You’ll get wasp-waisted, broad-shouldered, overly-lipsticked, severe-hairdo Joan at her very best as she weaves her way around some decent actors and some exceptionally ugly lampshades.

A good time will be had by all—except possibly for Harriet. But, she’s used to it.

Humanitarian of the Week: Geraldine James, OBE

Geraldine James’ extraordinary talent has led her across many media. She has shared her great skills as an actress with audiences via the stage, television and film, and has created a vast array of characters which run the gamut from high drama to camp.


James was born in Maidenhead, Berkshire. Her father was a cardiologist who divorced James’ mother when the girl was fourteen. Miss James’ mother, an alcoholic, was often gripped by her addiction and would be confined to her bed for extended periods of time. James described her childhood as “miserable. My mother was an alcoholic, in and out of hospital my entire childhood. My father, a doctor, divorced her when I was 14. My brother and sister and I had no one to turn to, and we never spoke about it. I couldn't tell anyone, 'It's Christmas Day. Mummy's in bed and no one's cooked us dinner.' We thought we were freaks. When you're a child, you blame yourself and think you're a bad person because Mummy is in bed crying and won't get up.”

Despite her trying upbringing, James excelled in her studies and was educated at Drama Centre London. In the late 1970’s and 1980’s, James made several memorable, high-profile television appearances. During this period, she also had featured parts in films such as Gandhi and The Tall Guy.

Miss James’ range is apparent. The same woman who played opposite Dustin Hoffman in the Broadway and West End productions of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice is also the woman who played Harvey Pincher’s mother in Little Britain. Recent film appearances include the two newest Sherlock Holmes movies, Alice in Wonderland, Made in Dagenham, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and the new version of Arthur.

In addition to her busy career, Geraldine James is an active patron of the National Association for Children of Alcoholics (NACOA) which offers assistance and counseling to people who grew up in conditions similar to those in which Miss James was raised. She said, the NACOA “offers a lifeline to children like me. Mummy was finally saved by Alcoholics Anonymous and spent the last ten years of her life sober. Having my mother back was fantastic.

For her exceptional talent and her enormous giving sprit, Geraldine James is our “Humanitarian of the Week.”

The Belle Époque Today: “Dare to Wear,” Glass Dresses by Diana Dias-Leão

The Walker Art Gallery

Fourteen dangerous dresses constructed of glass and two lethal barbed-wire corsets are the centerpiece of a new exhibit at the Walker Art Gallery in Liverpool, England. The collection, created by Diana Dias-Leão, chronicles the artist’s experiences in the fashion industry as well as showcases her remarkable glass-making prowess.


More so sculpture than couture, the dresses represent Miss Dias-Leão’s belief that the attitudes of those in the fashion industry have put more of an emphasis on appearance than substance. With this collection of shimmering glass gowns, she hopes to encourage people to look past the trappings of fashion and view it as simply a covering for what’s really important.

This unique and attractive collection is on display at the Walker Art Gallery through the end of September. Admission is free; so, if you’re in the Liverpool area, you should definitely pay a visit.



Dare to Wear - About the artist from National Museums Liverpool on Vimeo.

Her Majesty’s Furniture: A Gothic Revival Display Cabinet, 1844

Display Cabinet
and Stand
French, 1844
Ebony, Bronze,
Glass
The Royal Collection

Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were keen aficionados of a variety of architectural styles. One of their favorites was the Gothic Revival and they collected several examples of furnishings in this style during their marriage.


This ebony, bronze and glass display stand with figures representing Architecture, History, Sculpture and Numismatics was one of two which were purchased as monumental cabinets for the Royal Library at Windsor. The other piece actually belonged to King Louis Philippe of France. Sadly, that display stand no longer survives.