From the dining–room, of which, though already seen, and always to be seen at five o’clock, the general could not forgo the pleasure of pacing out the length, for the more certain information of Miss Morland, as to what she neither doubted nor cared for, they proceeded by quick communication to the kitchen — the ancient kitchen of the convent, rich in the massy walls and smoke of former days, and in the stoves and hot closets of the present. The general’s improving hand had not loitered here: every modern invention to facilitate the labour of the cooks had been adopted within this, their spacious theatre; and, when the genius of others had failed, his own had often produced the perfection wanted. His endowments of this spot alone might at any time have placed him high among the benefactors of the convent.
Northanger Abbey, Chapter 23
The relentlessly improving hand of the General at Northanger reigns down on Catherine’s wild imaginings about abbeys: she is very soon disabused of her romantic notions as she tours the Abbey with the General in Chapter 23.
We will look at the improvements the General may have added to his kitchen tomorrow, but today I’d like to try and imagine what Catherine Morland would have liked to have seen, instead of being confronted by a gleaming range of very modern conveniences.
I think she might probably have imagined a room that looked something like this:
(Do remember you can enlarge all these illustrations , in order to examine the detail, merely by clicking on them)
This is the rather magnificent kitchen not of an abbey, but of Burghley House in Lincolnshire the home of the Cecil family.
It is one of the oldest parts of the building, built circa 1555.
The ceiling, as you can see, is appropriately fan vaulted, and has a very tall roof- complete with glazed lantern. This enabled the smoke and fumes from the large kitchen fires, necessary for the cooking of the meat for the household, to rise and escape.
It also has some other “Gothic”-touches : the massive oil painting of a butchered oxen…
…and a chimney fire breast decorated with skulls…how horrid.
These were the skulls of turtles ..used for making turtle soups….
And placed above, a stern warning notice from His Lordship to the staff …Would you join the company of skulls if you disobeyed? *shudder* It brings to mind shades of Mrs Norris, frankly. How horrid
And what would be cooking in this dark and mysterious place?
Suckling pig…?
(Do please click on the video to make it play)
On a spit hand in front of a roaring blaze, turned by some small child or dog?
Served on a large platter?
Of course, Catherine saw none of this……what she did see, we shall discover tomorrow…..


























































10 comments
February 9, 2010 at 10:22 pm
caitlin
I thought perhaps the skulls were servants who trespassed or loitered in the kitchen… not sure I’d trust a dog that close to a roasting pig! Looking forward to tomorrow’s post!
February 10, 2010 at 9:43 am
jfwakefield
That notice was very General Tilney-like ,wasn’t it? The turnspit dog was caged on a wall- so the poor thing could not get near the roasting meat- go here to see an engraving of one (scroll down about 1/3 of the page length )
February 10, 2010 at 10:37 pm
caitlin
I can’t believe I forgot that – I had wondered what breed of dog the turnspit dog would have been related to.
February 10, 2010 at 11:52 pm
jfwakefield
They were – I say were for the breed became extinct in the mid 19th century, when the introduction of smoke jacks made them redundant– a form of terrier. Some commentators thought they were related to the Welsh Corgi. Go here to see a picture of a stuffed turnspit.
February 11, 2010 at 10:23 pm
caitlin
What a sweet little guy, poor thing. Your wellspring of information never ceases to amaze me! Thanks!
February 12, 2010 at 2:55 pm
jfwakefield
I agree, poor little thing: the cooks in Baht were the last to give them up. *sigh*
February 9, 2010 at 11:45 pm
Cathy Allen
As I read your daily postings, I keep thinking, “How can she top THIS?” — silly me! I simply must stop doing that, and merely enjoy the show. How does “stupendous” sound? How about “astonishing, astounding, amazing?” And that’s only the “A’s” (I’m so happy that WORD has a thesaurus built in!) oops, I left out “awesome.” I think I’ll just fall back on my old standby — fascinating.
WIthout your research, I’d never have guessed that such a kitchen still existed, and that it is in such beautiful condition. I’m certainly glad that I do not have to polish all that copper…and, that I don’t have to cook there! I’ll take our self-cleaning stove with the easy-wipe cook-top, and microwave technology.
Thank you, Julie dear,
CEA
February 10, 2010 at 9:45 am
jfwakefield
It is a marvellous relict, isn’t it? I can highly recommend a visit:-)
And you know, this blog is my release valve-I cant help obsessing about these details
February 10, 2010 at 11:48 am
Deb
I knew my kitchen was missing something–a painting of a butched ox! Just the thing to welcome my guests. And I could move the skulls of all the deer my husband has shot over the years from the back of the garage to a spare wall over my oven!
I do love the vaulted ceilings! And all the windows. And the copper!!
Deb in Wisconsin
February 10, 2010 at 8:03 pm
jfwakefield
LOL- so that’s the next make over sorted out, then