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Garden Hermits, Aunt Catherine, and Clement's Departure
I secured a charming book by Gordon Campbell called The Hermit in the Garden from Imperial Rome to Garden Gnome. My impression is that with the exception of the paid fortune telling hermit in London's Vauxhall Gardens, actual hermits for garden hermitages were far and few between after 1830 with the longest running documented post at Hawkstone from 1784 to 1915 held by generations of the same family. In 1801, the Hawkstone hermit was--at least for a period--an automaton operated by a talented voice actor. From both Vauxhall and Hawkstone, I get a vibe of early theme park, not a big surprise as the goal of adding a hermit with hermitage or hermitage alone to the gardens of vast (vast by today's standards) landholders in the 1700s seems to have been to provide a place to awaken and indulge deep melancholy feelings (sensibility) in visitors without much taking into account any actual suffering. This motivation strikes me as not dissimilar to the reasons people today ride roller coasters although the emotions sought were quite different.
@Gracie_DeForest In Pride and Prejudice, Longbourn--which from what I have read would have been a 1,000 acres or less and hence small--had a hermitage and a wild garden. It was there that Lady Catherine behaved so abominably to Elizabeth. I could not help noticing that Lady Catherine in PIP seems to have lost her Lady Bracknell edge. If you're not familiar with Wilde's The Importance of Being Ernest, Dowager Lady Grantham in Downton Abbey is a close second. I rarely watch Downton Abbey myself (the evil footman/butler makes my skin crawl) but the few times I
have seen it Dowager Lady Grantham always has the best lines. For example, "I was right about my maid. She's leaving to get married. I mean, how could she be so selfish?" In Pride and Prejudice, one of Lady Catherine's funnier sallies is "Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?" In a similar vein is Lady Bracknell's take on Mr. Worthing's status as a foundling, "To lose one parent, Mr Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness." Now that Clement won't be around to look for what rhymes with "lass" and provide us with inspiring tracts on garden architecture and features, I dare to hope that Lady Catherine or a another character will step into the comic relief breach left by his departure.
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