Whilst I was in Scotland I made several visits to castles and gardens. It felt rather strange, and on the whole was surprisingly enjoyable. I suppose that I’d never pictured myself being the sort of person who went to view country houses in Britain, and in fact whilst walking about one old castle the realisation dawned upon me that the whole thing was distinctly Regency. A teacher once called those English walking holidays – like the one that Elizabeth Bennett goes upon with her uncle and aunt to the Lake District – the first kind of tourism. The whole thing is really quite British. But whilst I would probably have dreaded being dragged around them as a child, I found the whole experience as a grown-up girl really rather fun.
All in all, it’s surely quite natural that I should be so enthralled by these kinds of old houses. I’m obsessed with old clothes, so why not old furnishings? Set and costume of course go hand in hand, and I’m so glad that this realisation has dawned upon me. I shall no longer scoff at looking around the not-so dusty rooms in the future.
The day following my arrival in Aberdeen was spent at Castle Fraser, which is a pleasant drive out of the city. In terms of the house itself, it was definitely the favourite of the three places I went to in Scotland (two outside Aberdeen, and one outside Edinburgh) for a whole host of reasons. I found fewer things to catch my attention in the first few rooms we entered, but as our tour progressed up and down the castle I grew more and more interested in the things that I was seeing.
The first few rooms were really quite what were to be expected for large houses: the old-fashioned kitchen, great hall, the library, and so on. There were the obligatory high ceilings and twisty passage, and, if my memory serves me correctly, the obligatory tourist-tastic ghost stories. At this point the visit to the castle didn’t really feel like anything hugely special, although a ladies’ parlour game from the 18th century which resembled pool was an interesting concept and contraption.
As we slowly gained height and progressed through the storeys, more things began to catch my eye. I didn’t write very much down so I can’t quite remember which rooms exactly I refer to – there were a few bedrooms, a nurse’s (or governess’s? Some kind of female servant) room, and a drawing room which were of high calibre, if you like – it’s these smaller rooms that I refer to.
Stunningly beautiful armchair, decorated with strips of tapestry work
In my opinion, what made Castle Fraser such a brilliant place to visit is that it gave a clear indication of daily domestic life for women in the 19th and early 20th centuries. There was a strong sense of the everyday; in some cases because the rooms were furnished just as they were lived in (the last lady of the house illustrated books, and her works were all around on the walls), in others simply because of the way in which they had been laid out. What I mean to say is, that some rooms were extremely connected to a particular woman, and others were more general, and merely contained artifacts relating to their usage as bedrooms. And yet, whether directly personal or less so, in all of the rooms there was a real sense of somebody having spent a portion of their life there.
If I had to pick something which stood out of me above everything at the castle, I would say textiles, without a shadow of a doubt. The rooms which I speak of were full of the most amazing, stunning examples of beautifully-stitched, wonderful textiles. Embroidery, tapestry, patchwork, lace – when I speak of domestic life, I mean to say that it’s clear that textiles played a central role in the lives of the women who lived here.
It perhaps shouldn’t be so surprising. Culturally, I think that we are used to the idea of women embroidering flowers or knitting socks during the day – depending on their social class this domestic needlework might range from knitting a silk purse (as in Thackeray’s Vanity Fair) to simply darning socks. But it’s my belief that Castle Fraser was one of those places which provides a kind of turning point, leading to a true realisation of just how major the role of textiles was. It dawned strongly even upon me, with my own absorption into the sector, proving that I am, after all and despite everything and all my being outmoded, a product of my time. As I said, the examples of textiles there were simply exquisite. Everything that could be decorated, or improved visually, was done so by the fitting of an embroidery of some sort. In one bedroom there was a particularly aweing quilt spread in its glory over a double bed with hangings on all sides – all hand-stitched, of course.
There were fire screens fitted with embroideries, beautiful cushions, carpeted steps, and in one room the most beautiful white lace trimming a mantlepiece of all things. The idea of trimming a mantlepiece shelf with lace would never have occurred to me, but the sheer volume of textiles in the set of rooms which I talk of, as well as their quality and at times inventiveness, definitely says a lot about the lives of women in the “olden days”, as some are wont to call it. It’s clear that since there was so much of it, the creation of textiles was most probably about all that they did do. The results are fabulous in that there are so many well-executed pieces to pour over, and yet there’s a certain element of hopelessness embedded in the whole thing. It’s a bit like when you watch a film set in the Regency period (specifically, I’m thinking of Douglas McGrath’s 1996 adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma starring Gwyneth Paltrow) and whilst it’s all very pretty and fresh, after a while you can’t help but notice that their lives comprise of reading, playing the piano, needlework, short walks, and gossip. There weren’t any other options for gentlewomen – of course they didn’t work. The idleness of wealth and class is something which has historically been celebrated – the use of expensive materials, the ownership of many many dresses, the possession of large and lofty houses, to demonstrate to others that you had somebody else to do the washing, ironing, cleaning for you – that you could afford to be idle. These women didn’t have anything else to do. Satisfaction in a job well done can be found easily in the creation of textiles, yet at times all this ornamentation and drapery is so superfluous, that you realise that their lives must have been so empty. And yet, conversely, textiles was something of their own – something which could be used as a way of creating community within groups of women, to bond, to do something of value and merit for theirselves, even if it was perhaps limited. I don’t have the answers; I’m sure that books have already been written. But it’s worth a visit to the house if you’re anywhere near the area, or will be paying a trip to Aberdeen. I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did.
Click on any photograph to enlarge.
Information on Castle Fraser can be found on the National Trust for Scotland’s website.
