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A New Year Calamity! #35

The New Year’s Eve Balls at Hoar Cross hall were usually the highlight of the year. After twelve months of hard work, especially running the Mediaeval Banquets twice a week through the winter, we were always ready to see out the year in style with a big new year party. In those days it was always black tie for the men and long dresses for the ladies – usually around 500 people bought tickets for an evening of entertainment with a dance band, disco and a meal. At midnight a man dressed in traditional Scottish regalia, including a kilt and sporran, would pipe in the new year with his bagpipes. Down the Long Gallery he would slowly walk and into the Ballroom wi...

Royal Visitors at Hoar Cross hall #49

With the King's Coronation looming on 6th May in the UK, I thought I'd do some royal family related articles this month starting with royal visitors at the hall in the 1920s. I also have a book called Queen Alexandra's Christmas Gift Book which was left in the Library and shows personal photos from her own camera which she took of the royal family between 1900-1910 -  a rare insight indeed into what the royals did in their leisure time!  I will be sharing these photos over the next month leading up to the Coronation and hope you find them as fascinating as I do. Royal Visitors From earliest times the king's court has travelled around the kingdom so the king...

Rags to Riches #63

My family originated from Derby and my parents were married there in July 1952.  Mum was 19 and dad was 36 so quite a bit older.  They both lived in Derby and were very arty; my dad went to the Derby Sketching Club in his free time and my mum attended art college.  I’m not sure where they met but it was either at something art related or at a dance, as was usual in those days.  My dad was a sculptor by trade; I think his interest was sparked by seeing all the beautiful alabaster in Italian churches during the war. My parents on their wedding day - 1952   After the Second World War he set up his own business making alabaster lamps, bowls and candles...

Motor Racing Days #64

Although my blogs are about living at Hoar Cross hall, I would just like to give a bit of background about my dad’s motor racing career in the years leading up to moving to the hall as this will set the scene for later instalments of my story.  With the Silverstone Grand Prix recently in the news, I thought this would be quite topical! As mentioned my dad used to be a motor racing driver but he actually started off racing motor cycles in the 1930s.  Because of this he became a despatch rider during the Second World War and spent a lot of time in North Africa.  After the war he started racing motor bikes at nearby Donington Park and he raced there up to the...

Moving Into a Mansion #67

As summer turns to autumn my thoughts have gone back in time to 1970 when my family moved house at this time of the year - not to any old house, but to a 70-roomed stately home in Staffordshire!  The whole process of moving  was done over the summer months as we lived about 20 miles away in an old vicarage with a large garden and lots of outbuildings. This house was about 200 years old and they say Bonnie Prince Charlie marched past it on his way to battle back in the day, for all you history buffs out there!  Actually I love history and I think my interest was fuelled by living in these historic houses as a child.  My dad used to be a racing driver in the 1...

A New Year Calamity! #75

The New Year’s Eve Ball at Hoar Cross hall was usually the highlight of the year.  After twelve months of hard work, especially running the Mediaeval Banquets twice a week through the winter, we were always ready to see out the year in style with a big new year party.  In those days it was always black tie for the men and long dresses for the ladies – usually around 500 people bought tickets for an evening of entertainment with a dance band, disco and a meal.  At midnight a man dressed in traditional Scottish regalia, including a kilt and sporran, would pipe in the new year with his bagpipes.  Down the Long Gallery he would slowly walk and into the Ballr...