Patum Peperium

A Letter From The Colonies...

Man About Mayfair

Sir Basil Seal

The Canadian press awaits 

King George IV & Princess Elizabeth.

 

My Dear Viv,

It seems that the Child-In-Chief President "I Hope you didn't want to keep the Change" Obama, will soon be winging his way across the Big Water to visit the Great White Mother.  I'm sure Her Majesty is breathless in anticipation to be meeting real life gangsters from Chicago. While first hiding her hand bag in the cupboard, and placing more Blues around the family silver, she will want to discuss the challenges facing the leader of a one party democracy.  She knows a bit about that, since it's sort of like being the Queen of England.  Of course, the GWM is an old hand when it comes to post colonial dictators, socialist party leaders, and run away bureaucracies but she hasn't entertained a messiah since Blair was sent packing.  Plus she has already watched the destruction of her own Kingdom by their messiah, so she has a pretty good idea what's in store for her cousins across the Great Water. Since 1952 she has greeted and waved goodbye to all U.S. leaders except Lyndon Johnson, which didn't interrupt her royal slumber in the least.  They are all dead or writing their fictional memoirs somewhere as she still sits smiling on her throne.  Which is why it would be unwise to underestimate the GWM.  Hell, she even had to meet with that complete ass, the dancing Trudeau (he's gone too).  The meeting is unusual since Obama is there, not for a State visit, but just to enlarge the U K's carbon footprint.  And of course, to drop off a Barnes and Noble gift card for Incapability Brown so he can get himself some DVDs that actually play in the UK.  Note:  Obama was caught re-gifting when Brown visited Washington  a few weeks back, in case you didn't know...Brown gave Obama a piece of a slave ship, but Obama didn't understand the significance since he's not authentically black.

The protocol people are in overdrive on both sides of the Great Water. Her Majesty's office is searching for a suitable gift for the first not authentically black socialist president, trying to convince Incapability Brown that slobbering on Heads-of -State is not quite the thing, and ordering all Fleet Street photographers to simultaneously run out of film when anyone sees the flick of the First Bic.  I mean, the American press has it down pat, shouldn't be that hard.  They also have to stock up on Goji Berry and kumquat rain water and vegetarian snacks which Obama favors, since he is a man of the right people, after all.  They did have to explain to Her Majesty that "vegetarian" is and old American Indian word which means "bad hunter".  They have also been trying to come up with a tactful way to direct Obama to Savile Row in order that he might order some suits that actually fit. One does notice the unsightly gap at the back, doesn't one.  Although this is a tough nut since it is a tradition that American Presidents "dress down" in order to be seen as "one of the mob".  Well, at least as much of one of the mob as Ivy League multi-millionaires can be.  Which is silly since in America even the wearing of a cheap off the peg suit is seen as snobbish.  If the President dressed like the mob he'd wear shorts, t-shirt, flip-flops and backward ball cap, and that's when he's at church. 

 Meanwhile, the Americans are trying to find some evidence somewhere which proves that a messiah outranks a Queen, explaining to Obama that Her Majesty's real name is not Helen Mirren, asking Mrs. Blair to teach Mrs. Obama that "curtsy-as-insult thing" she had going on,  scouring the basement for any unopened gifts which the Queen might like, stocking up on Kools, and lining up a fence in Chicago just in case Rahm does happen to get anywhere near the family silver.

So, as you see, it should be a very good time had by all.  I'll want you to hang about afterward and get all the dish from Her Majesty. Write back and tell all.  It should be fun. 

Yours,

Baz

.

 

Do not forget, It's Tuesday!

.

While You Wait....

Man About Mayfair
 Sir Basil Seal

Here's a little tidbit from Sir Basil while you are waiting for something really profound to show up on these pages.  Good luck, and all that...I want you all to toss this little gem to the top of your Netflix queue and to watch it with more than rapt attention.  The film in question is School for Scoundrels or How to Win Without Actually Cheating! (1960).  Not, I might add, the sophomoric and ridiculous American remake, mind you.  This is a British film directed by Robert Hamer and stars Ian Carmichael (Bertie Wooster, Lord Peter Wimsey), Alistair Sim (Scrooge), Terry-Thomas, one of the early "Lady Seals" Janette Scott with great cameos from Dennis Price, Peter Jones and John Le Mesurier.

Based on the Life-manship books of Stephen Potter, this film is a complete joy, staying true, as it does, to the spirit of the books. Sim is fantastic as Professor Potter and Ian Carmichael is great as the downtrodden Henry Palfery.  Terry-Thomas, is of course, Terry-Thomas and one never tires of looking at Janette Scott.  Well, I did, but then I was married to her, so it doesn't count.  I know you will enjoy it, although you might want to read the books first (as if you haven't already) to get the full effect.  In the film you will visit Yeovil and see a Swiftmobile.  Don't ask, just watch.  And see if you catch the hilarious Joan Greenwood voice parody...Priceless.  For the uninformed, you will also need to rent Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) and The Importance of Being Ernest (1952) both fantastic films, to be able to catch the Joan Greenwood voice parody.  Yes, Joan Greenwood was also a "Lady Seal"...

Do so now.

A Visitor For Mr. FLG

PP's Man About Mayfair

Sir Basil Seal

Later that same day at the hospital....

Knock on the door...

FLG:  Holy Shit!  What the fuck do you want now?

Nurse peeks in...

Nurse:  Uh, Mr. FLG?

FLG:  Oh, Hello Nurse.

Nurse:  Mr. FLG, there's a, uh, strange man here...Asking to see you...

FLG:  Strange?  Strange in what way?

Nurse:  Well....He's wearing a fawn cashmere overcoat, is holding a rolled up umbrella and is wearing a hat...

FLG:  Wearing a hat is strange? Cashmere overcoats are strange, I'll admit, but a hat?

Nurse:  Well it's not a normal hat, it's like an old style hat and he asked me to have tea brought up later and to send up the val-let, whatever that is... 

FLG:  Wait.  Is this a tall man, Savile Row tailoring, homburg, ridiculously plummy accent who looks, in spite of it all, very dangerous?

Nurse:  Uh, Savile Row...

FLG:  Nice fucking clothes!

Nurse:  Well yeah, and if homburg means funny hat then...

FLG:  Send him in.

Sir Basil Seal (entering the room and handing coat, brolly and hat to the nurse):  FLG my dear chap...Was in the "hood" as they say in America, and thought I'd drop by to see how you were.  Hope you don't mind...

FLG:  Not at all Sir Baz, just hanging out here with the wife and child...

SBS:  Ah, child is it...I wondered what that strange smell was.  Well if you have a child, then I have a small token for the curtain crawler. (Tosses a set of keys over to FLG.)

FLG:  Uh, thanks Sir Baz, you shouldn't have.  (Looks at keys.) What the fuck is it?

SBS:  Those my dear fellow are the keys to the 1954 Kaiser-Darrin, in white, with the Cadillac 304 V-8 which is now parked downstairs...I thought the tyke might get a kick out of it don't you know...Hope the wife won't object...You can drive it, of course, till the small one is ready...

FLG:  Oh no, I'm sure she'll be pleased, uh, thanks again...

SBS: Don't mention it my good man. Always happy to help out a friend. Congratulations on the old happy occasion, although I see you did not take my advice on the proper role to play in this little drama...No matter, you young fellows know what's best, I'm sure...

FLG:  Well, yeah, I guess...So how've you been and what are you doing these days?  I sure have missed you at FoN you know.  I'm writing a few things over at PP now for Mrs. P...

SBS:  Oh, tut, tut my good man...No one misses FoN...A load of rubbish that...No, no I was just in the area and thought I'd say hello...Can't stay long mind you.  And I did catch some of your tourette-in-print over at PP...Jolly good it was, jolly.

FLG:  Great, I think...The wife is sleeping now, should I wake her?  I'm sure she'd love to meet you.

SBS:  No, no...I have found that a women waking and finding Sir Basil standing at the foot of the bed, especially when there is a daughter about, is not always a good thing...Better let her rest up a bit before the happy reunion...You know, too many visitors in one day can be tiring...

FLG:  Yes, I guess you're right.  We did have some, uh, visitors, earlier...

SBS:  Yes, I did note that...Those chaps seem to be speaking with you quite a bit these days...Not that it's any of my business, of course...

FLG:  Of course...You know Sir Baz, you live about 800 miles from here...How did you happen to be in a neighborhood 800 miles from your own?

SBS:  Is it that far?  My, my I must of dozed off or something...Possibly wired...Asleep at the wheel and all that, what?  Well, I just wanted to be here to lend my support and the support of our friends to you, you know, in case there was anything you wanted to talk about.

FLG:  What kind of things?

SBS:  Oh, you know, just things...Loose lips sink ships they used to tell me...Not important anyway...Just wanted you to know we're keeping an eye on you and the family...What are friends for?  Anything you need, you just call your old Uncle Baz...I'm just an old duffer out and about...It's always nice to know who one's friends are...Well, I shan't keep you my dear fellow....Tell that miserable girl to forget the 

tea...Terrible service in this hotel, what?  You might want to move to the Ritz...Let me know, I can arrange it, if you'd like...Well, tootle-loo and enjoy the motor...

Sir Basil exits and FLG wonders, not for the first time, if the folks at PP are as nice and innocent as they seem...Something to think about...Old duffer my ass...Now where the fuck is that remote?

.

The Smoking Jacket As Opposed To The Smoking Gun...

Relish The Gentleman

Sir Basil Seal

Mrs. P has started on haber as well as dash, so I, of course immediately started actually reading her post...I gleaned a bit about pipes, anniversaries and a suitable wardrobe as well as a mention of the venerable smoking jacket.  Well, as you have probably guessed by now, I not only own a velvet smoking jacket, but actually wear one.  And as such, I thought it best to discuss it with all of you first before Mrs. P can do irreparable harm.  Contrary to popular belief, you can wear a smoking jacket without actually smoking, although, I personally would consider you a complete and utter wuss if you don't puff like Bette Davis while wearing yours.  Yes, just as most of you wear a baseball cap (probably backwards) without actually being a member of a baseball team, you can don the jacket without actually lighting up (tobacco) and shocking all your friends at your Whole Foods organic balsamic vinegar tasting party.   Anyway, one treats a smoking jacket as if it were a dinner jacket, except that a smoking jacket is "at home wear" worn for entertaining at home.  It should be worn with a formal shirt (with bow tie) and trousers (black or midnight blue) or gray flannels and a pair of black velvet (personalized motif optional) or leather Alberts.  You can also wear a less formal shirt with a scarf or ascot tied jauntily about the neck.  The  smoking jacket is one of the last vestiges of men's wear which survives (barely) from the era when men wore different clothing based upon time-of-day and location.  If you are of a daring and devil-may-care nature you could also don the velvet smoking cap with tassel colored to match your jacket...But we are venturing into professional territory here, so tread carefully.  I must say that the smoking jacket is one of the quintessential items which need inhabit a gentleman's wardrobe and I've been told that the chicks dig it.  So, there you are.  A variation on the theme is the men's cashmere robe or gown, which is worn over your shirt and tie after you have removed your jacket.  This was a favorite look of Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street fame.  I wear them both to great applause.  So should you.  When you purchase your velvet smoking jacket, you need also pick up your gunmetal cigarette case, your Ronson lighter and several packs of Chesterfield King non-filters.  Do it right son, or don't do it at all...

About Midnight Mass

Man about Mayfair

Sir Basil Seal

Sir Basil Seal's Guide for heretics planning to attend 

Midnight Mass

(PLEASE STAY AWAY)

As some of you know, it is somewhat the fashion for the Prods (read heretics) to crash our party, as it were, and attend the Midnight Mass. Usually at the largest and most ornate cathedral available in the area. This is, of course, a true case of "church envy" which the Prods (read heretics) only openly admit to at Christmas. Well, if you must, and one must welcome all kinds into the house of God, one supposes, I have set forth some rules for you to follow. This will help to alleviate our pain as you drink the Holy Water and generally stink up the place:

Note: I personally will be at the Tridentine, or Latin Mass, I like to keep it old and cold, but don't think for one minute that I won't be watching...The following pertains to the Norvus Ordo, or New Order Mass (don't even get me started), since your heathen hide won't be allowed into a Latin Mass. Do not come and sully the Latin Mass. Visit the New Order Mass and let the Vatican II folks reap what they have sown. The Midnight Mass, held at the stroke of midnight as Christmas Eve ticks into Christmas Day, has its origins in the belief that Christ was born at exactly that hour. Note: For you prods and sadly, for some Catholics, Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. Not J. C. Penny. Note: A Roman Catholic priest is addressed as 'Father' and you will address a bishop as...Well, you won't address a bishop as he wouldn't speak to a Luther loving heretic such as yourself. Rule 1: Arrive early and take a seat in the very back...Please leave the good seats available for the true Christians. And if you don't turn off that damn cell phone and Ipod, you will be taken out and burned at the stake. Burned nicely, but burned none the less. Peace, brother. Rule 2: Dress appropriately, although I have personally driven shorts and t-shirt wearing supposed Catholics from the Temple myself, I would ask that you refrain from dressing like your children as usual and wear adult clothing, i.e. suits for men and dresses for women (Note to Episcopalians: dresses are for women only). At least remove the baseball cap and put some damn socks on, you reformation rabble... Rule 3: Open your heart to the spirit and symbolism of Christmas portrayed in the Mass. There will usually be lots of sacred music, Christmas decorations, candles, scripture readings and perhaps a crèche. Unlike a mainline Prod service, the Mass is actually a worship service in which God is present. And our God does not believe you are the center of his universe. Get over it. Rule 4: This is important, so listen carefully...If you are not a Roman Catholic, do not, I repeat, do not take communion in a Roman Catholic Church. Sleep quietly, pretending to pray, while the true Christians receive communion. It is considered very rude to leave during this part of the Mass, so sit tight, it will not kill you to miss part of American Idol on this occasion. Rule 5: When everyone kneels, you kneel. When everyone stands, you stand. When everyone sits down, you sit down. There is a Missal in the rack before you, inside you will find the service, so you can follow along. Sorry, no video is available, you will actually have to read it... If you need help, ask a Catholic. Before entering a pew, Catholics genuflect toward the alter, so do not knock some poor old blue hair down in your rush to take her seat. And while you are there, it would probably be good to genuflect and then prostate yourself before the altar and beg forgiveness for being the miserable heretic that you are. Rule 6: If you are given a candle, hold onto it...There will be a time during the service where you will have to pull it from your nose, (or if an Episcopalian, other orifices), and light it. Rule 7: If you are at a non-Latin Mass, you will need to have washed your filthy hands...You will be asked to make the sign of peace, or some such nonsense, which means shake hands all around like Methodists. (A Methodist is a Baptist who can read) I personally never do this as a sign of solidarity with the Holy Father, so you can stand still and glare balefully at those around you if you like, I do. Do not use this as an excuse to grope the girls and women, (or men if you're an Episcopalian). Don't give anyone germs, or worse... There you have it...Please don't, but if you must go, follow these simple rules, but it would be best if you just stayed home and watched the telly and played your new video game, like you always do. 

M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S

Patum Peperium is officially on holiday. Do check in occasionally as we never know what the writers will do or say.

A Gentleman And His Jewelry

Relish the Gentleman

Sir Basil Seal

A while back, our Moscow correspondent, Mr. Dareboy, wrote asking for advice from Sir Basil on Swiss watches.  He was in the market, and had, I believe, purchased a watch from Raymond Weil.  A very fine watch, to be sure.  But the question we have to ask here:  Is why does one want a Swiss watch?  Let me step back here a bit and discuss gentleman's jewelry.  A gentleman can wear four pieces of jewelery: a plain and non-obtrusive wrist watch, a wedding band and in the United States, a "class ring" which identifies the gentleman as an alumnus of an university, or as a member of a club or organization, such as a branch of the armed services.   (This serves the same purpose as the "regimental, or club neck tie" in England) and cuff links. Some of these "class rings" are disqualified, such as the ones obtained from the military academies, due to their being the size of an automobile radiator worn on the hand.  Not exactly subtle.  This means, of course, that you need to leave your Super Bowl ring at home as well.  In the past, it was common in England for the gentleman to sport a "pinky ring".  This was not done in the United States, and has pretty much 

vanished all together outside of the gay community.

As a menacingly well groomed gentleman, let me say that as with clothing, the gentleman's jewelery should be subtle and not noticeable.  For example:  If you have your tailor monogram your shirts, the monogram should never show.  It is not placed on the cuff (what? you forgot your name?), or the breast pocket (you should not have a breast pocket anyway) of the shirt. The proper placement is on the front of the shirt midway between the waist and the breast. And since you wear a suit coat and never take it off in company, the monogram will never be seen except by you, your laundress and your tailor. The point that I am making is that it is the height of vulgarity to wear things which draw attention to themselves and to you.  Buying items to try and impress others and not because you are buying something of quality which you desire is not only vulgar, but stupid.  A gentleman pays no attention to advertising.  He doesn't have to.  He knows quality, knows what he wants and goes out and buys the best quality item in his price range, whatever that might be.  And in case you were wondering....No one was impressed.  When you leave someone's presence, they should remember you as a well dressed and well groomed gentleman, but not be able to say exactly why. You should leave this impression subconsciously, not smack them on the forehead with your Rolex.  I must note here that you should not purchase a Rolex.  Trust me on this one. 

Your items should be made of gold (sterling silver if you must, but if you wear gold, they are all gold, if silver, then all silver) and of good quality, but not large and vulgar. They should not be cute or fey... Nothing reeking of office parties or dirty weekends please.  Simple, simple, simple is the rule to follow here.  And please note that something in good taste is not necessarily the most expensive.  Lord knows there are many vulgar expensive items out there.  Chose your clothing and your jewelery for yourself and with an eye toward simple elegance.  I personally have worn a succession of Gruen Curvex watches on ribbon bands, sometimes black leather, throughout my lifetime, I have one on now as a matter of fact.  These are the original Curvex watches from the 30's and 40's with the Swiss movement which I have collected over the years.  In the 1990's Gruen came out with reproductions of the 

original Curvex with quartz movements.  I purchased many of these for day-to-day wear and keep the originals for more formal occasions.  Why?  Because I like the watch, it is of fine quality and it is perfect for someone like me who has thin wrists.  Yes, I do own a 1962 Rolex Oyster Perpetual Datejust (a gift), a Cartier Tank Americaine and a gold Maurice Lacroix Les Classiques Gents.  All very fine watches, but rarely worn.  Please stay away from the submariner, pilot, mountain climber, 

astronaut watches unless you are a submariner, pilot, mountain climber, astronaut, and then please only wear them while at work.  It is the same rule which applies to non-cowboys wearing cowboy hats and boots...You understand, I am sure.  I have a friend who could afford any watch in the world but who has always worn a Timex Dress Watch on a ribbon band because he likes it and it does what he needs a watch to do.  Plus, he has no need to impress anyone.  Simple Elegance.  But please remember that wearing a plastic runner's watch with your suit (are you listening President Clinton) is a no-no.

If you must look into a Swiss watch then I recommend:

The Cartier Tank Americaine 

The original plain model.  No goofy colors.  

Remember, cute is bad.

The Jaeger LeCoultre Reverso

The Frank Muller Masterbanker

The Patek Philippe Calatrava

And yes Mr. Dareboy, no one should wear jeans.  Sadly, myself and the Countess are the only two people I am aware of in the United States who do not own a pair.  The same applies to t-shirts...These are to be worn as undergarments.  And tennis shoes, or sneakers should only be worn while performing athletic endeavors, but, alas the damage is done and everyone looks like a slob.  And 30 years of feminism has turned our girls into boys with breasts with no grace or style.  (I'll have to get into the tragedy which is the modern American woman in another post).Oh, but they are comfortable...How one could claim that stiff denim is more comfortable than worsted wool is beyond me, but there you have it. I hope this helps Mr. Dareboy. I must confess that I know nothing of current Russian culture and society but I do hope that you have not picked up to much nastiness from the United States, although I fear you have if everyone is wearing jeans.  Nice people (mostly) in the States, but remember it is ruled by the lowest common denominator.  And I do admit, England is worse, and has fallen farther.  I always liked the Romanovs myself.  People may call the Windsors stupid, but you know what?  They still have a throne to sit on...

More of Sir Basil's manly understandings of worldly matters 

can be found at Feast of Nemesis.

Probation

Man About Mayfair

by Sir Basil Seal

Mr. Robbo T. Llama Butcher

You

have been nominated for

membership

in

our august society.

You will submit your application

and

consider yourself on super secret probation.

During

your probationary period you will

take this work of art entitled

"Still Life"

(notice the fruit)

and

display it on your website(s), make it your screen saver

and

display it, suitably framed of course, in your study

and

your office until further notice. 

 

If

 you appreciate this beautiful work of art 

more and more each day

then

 you are a suitable candidate

 for our society. 

We
 
will be in touch.

The Committee

RCBfA

Bond, Literary Bond...

Relish the Gentleman: Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

I realize that you are all aware of this already, but I wanted to point it out just on the off chance that someone has been on holiday, or, in hospital and wasn't paying attention...May 28, 2008 is, of course, the centenary of Ian Fleming's birth, and to mark this momentous day and year Ian Fleming Productions Ltd (which is wholly owned by the Fleming family and administers Ian's literary estate) has commissioned some special works to commemorate the event. This is strictly concerning the literary Bond and not the movies, which are a different thing altogether. EON Productions owns the film rights and their Bond is a different character from the one depicted in the books. I personally do not follow the film Bond, but for those of you who do, there is a new Bond film due out in November of 2008. Of course there have been continuation Bond novels written for years by several different authors. I have not read any of these, because I personally do not like the idea of continuing books after the author is dead. I will make an exception in the case of Devil May Care. Faulks has gone to great pains to write as Fleming and he has kept the story in the original time frame, not yanking Bond into the present where he has to give up cigarettes, trade his Bentley for a REVA, watch his cholesterol intake, be wary of date rape law suits, get in touch with his feminine side and drink bottled water instead of whiskey. Here are some highlights of the years festivities:

Imperial War Museum For Your Eyes Only: Ian Fleming and James Bond Thursday 17th April 2008—Sunday 1st March 2009

To celebrate the centenary of Ian Fleming’s birth, Imperial War Museum London is producing the first major exhibition devoted to the life and work of the man who created the world’s most famous secret agent, James Bond.

Featuring fascinating material, much on public display for the first time, For Your Eyes Only will look at the author and his fictional character in their historical context and examine how much of the Bond novels were imaginary and how far they were based on real people and events. This exhibition will explore the early life of Ian Fleming, his wartime career and work as a journalist and travel writer and how, as an author, he drew upon his own experiences to create the iconic character of James Bond that continues to have global appeal.

For Your Eyes Only
Ian Fleming and James Bond is the new book accompanying the Imperial War Museum exhibition and written by Ben MacIntyre, a columnist and associate editor on The Times. The book is published by Bloomsbury and will be released on 17th April.

Bond Bound: Ian Fleming & The Art of Cover Design
A major exhibition ‘Bond Bound: Ian Fleming & The Art of Cover Design’ will be on show at the Fleming Collection from 22 April to 28 June 2008. The exhibition, covering each book published, will also chart the role of artists and designers in creating and defining the Bond look. Casino Royale, the first of the Bond novels spanning half a century, established the James Bond brand. It was a compelling mixture of sex, style and violence that soon turned Bond into the most famous fictional secret agent in history. This provided artists and designers with invaluable opportunities to maximize their talents.

Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang
Not only was Ian Fleming the creator of James Bond, but he also invented Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang for his young son Caspar, and it went on to become the most famous and best-loved car in fiction.

This treasured story inspired a film and a musical and is celebrated in this lavish, highly collectible new edition, complete with its original timeless artwork by John Burningham, one of Britain’s most popular author/illustrators. It will published in hardback on the 8th April by Puffin Books.

James Bond: The Authorized Biography
First published in 1973, this book has been reissued in conjunction with the Ian Fleming centenary. Highly recommended.

"Five years ago, Pearson wrote the best-selling authorized biography of Ian Fleming. At the time, like most of the many million James Bond fans around the world he assumed that Bond was nothing more than a figment of Fleming's highly charged imagination. Then he began to have his doubts - doubts which soon were reaching such a pitch that the British secret service tried to warn him off the scent. Despite this, he finally became convinced that James Bond was not only real but was actually alive.

Thanks to a change of policy within the secret service (for reasons which Pearson carefully explains), he was invited to embark upon a companion volume to his life of Fleming. This was a book which must surely be one of the most extraordinary biographies of our times - the authorized life of a myth, the official biography of James Bond."

The Moneypenny Diaries
This is an authorized book edited by Kate Westbrook. First of three books in the series. Already published in the UK, the final book is being published there this year. We find out that her Christian name is Jane...

My heart breaks for James---so begin the explosive, true, private diaries of Miss Jane Moneypenny, personal secretary to Secret Service chief M and colleague and confidante of James Bond. Bound by the Official Secrets Act not to reveal anything about her work, Miss Moneypenny is forced to lead a secretive, clandestine life. But, contrary to popular belief, she was not simply a bystander while James Bond saw all the action.

Miss Moneypenny’s experience with mystery stretches all the way back to her childhood in Africa, when her father inexplicably disappeared in action during World War II. Now, as a young woman in 1960s London, Miss Moneypenny unknowingly stumbles upon her father’s trail. In a position like hers, there’s no file she can’t access, and no document she can’t read. Yet Miss Moneypenny is forced to decide whether it’s worth risking everything---her job, her safety, and even international security---for the possibility of finding her father alive.

A life of espionage has personal as well as political ramifications. For Jane Moneypenny, the price is high. Romantic relationships with outsiders are necessarily built on lies, and she automatically questions the motives of every man she grows close to. For as her diary quickly reveals, Miss Moneypenny is involved in far more than office politics.

Guarding so many secrets and with no one to confide in, she finds herself breaking the first rule of espionage. Unbeknownst to anyone, she keeps a diary charting her innermost thoughts and state secrets.

These diaries should not have been written. They were never supposed to be read...

Devil May Care
By Sebastian Faulks writing as Ian Fleming
Devil May Care will be published on Wednesday 28th May 2008 to celebrate the centenary of Ian Fleming’s birth. This new installment in the adventures of the world’s most iconic spy has been written by one of Britain’s most admired novelists, Sebastian Faulks.

'My novel is meant to stand in the line of Fleming’s own books, where the story is everything,' said Faulks, 'In his house in Jamaica, Ian Fleming used to write a thousand words in the morning, then go snorkeling, have a cocktail, lunch on the terrace, more diving, another thousand words in late afternoon, then more Martinis and glamorous women. In my house in London, I followed this routine exactly, apart from the cocktails, the lunch and the snorkeling.'

Picking up from where Fleming left off in 1966 with Octopussy and The Living Daylights, Faulks has written the perfect continuation of the James Bond legacy. Devil May Care is set during the Cold War and features all the glamour, thrills and excitement that one would expect from any adventure involving Bond . . . James Bond.

Quantum of Solace: The Complete James Bond Short Stories
This will be published in August by Penguin. As noted, it is a collection of all the short stories into one volume.

Centenary Edition Hardbacks by Penguin 007
On May 29 Penguin 007 will publish hard back editions of all 14 Fleming Bond books featuring new cover art by Michael Gillette.

It Begins

Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Previously...I, II, & III

It Begins

On that Thursday afternoon I was out on the veranda taking my exercise, which I do each day with religious devotion to maintaining my genteel figah. I had sat down to rest a bit after my second set of martini dead lifts and lighted a Chesterfield when Weimer announced that a Mr. Lout had arrived. Show him in, my good man I said, and The Fiendish One was shown in. A wonderful man, is Fiendish, for a New Yorker, he does seem to talk rather loudly, but I suppose city people develop this habit in order to be heard over all that machinery. But I like him all the same. Like the sportsman he is he manfully agreed to join me in my daily exercise regimen, so we sat and I poured.

We were sipping our way through my rigorous program, reminiscing about our adventures in New York, mutual acquaintances, family, my wardrobe and what have you. I outlined the plan for the morrow, whereby The Fiendish One, Lord St. John and myself had been delegated to fetch Mr. and Mrs. P and their entourage from the airport. The plan calls for breaking out the T'all (yes, I have one, brought over from the "spredin' out far and wide", a 1974 1210 with the magical 393 V8 and the rare 5 speed transmission, if you were to imagine driving your house down the highway, you would just about have the complete picture. Oh, T'all is short for an International Harvester Travelall, best truck evah) and loading the guests and carrying them back, without any stops coming or going per explicit orders from you know who. Being a manly man, who like myself, enjoys doing manly things in a manly way, TFL expressed interest in my rare gem of a truck. I began to outline the history of said vehicle when:

"Do. Not. Move."

"What?"

"Remain. Perfectly. Still."

"I'm not sure I'm reading you..."

"Shhhhhh....If you value your life you will remain quiet and still."

"Well, I say..."

"Ima Knut"

"You're a Ka-nut?"

"No, no, don't you know how to whisper? Ima Knut"

"I think I'm beginning to realize that you're a Ka-nut, but what..."

"No you fool, Miss Ima Knut is walking up the path, and you do not want to meet her. Slide slowly to the floor..."

We slid, and about that time the faithful Weimer poked his oblong head out the door...

"I see sir from your prone position that you have noticed the approach of Miss Knut."

"You're quite the observant one there Weimer...Of course I noticed...You know what to do"

"Yes sir"

"This will be close, you have to buy us some time..."

"I will endeavor to do my best sir"

"Right, you go that way, we'll go this way. OK Lout, do you see that small gap in the hedge over there near the corner? We will slowly, slowly make our way to that opening. Now, follow me and stay low."

We made our slow and agonizing way toward the safety of the hedge. The Lout looked confused, as I am sure he was, but I was too busy praying that Weimer had way-laid Miss Knut at the top of the path to provide any sympathy. We finally, painfully crawled into the hedge and sat up to do a reccee...

"I say Seal, what the hell are we doing?"

"I'm saving our lives, you fool, be quiet."

"But, why are we hiding from this Ka-nut women? Is that her over there with your butler?"

"Yes, that's the demon seed herself, nice bum, you can't see it in that dress, but it's there, but the price you'd pay is way too high, and if you don't keep quiet she'll hear us and then the game's up."

"What the hell does she have on, is that a flour sack or a tent fly? Who the devil is she, does the nose come off with the glasses?"

"She's Ima Knut, and she is the head of the local TRAD chapter. She's always trying to corner me and lecture me on my wicked ways. Of course I'm a professional and don't need any help from her. Last time she cornered me I hugged her and asked her to be my mistress and she ran off crying and swearing to tell the Countess...She didn't, she fears the Countess, so she's not totally stupid, and the Countess knows I have much better taste than that. She always tries to talk me into getting her a gig at the school. I'll tell you about the school later."

"What's TRAD?"

"Traditional Romans Against Décolletage...A real pain in the arse, if you ask me. You know, no sex, no drinks, no fun and of course no décolletage, that sort of thing. Of course most of them are against décolletage because they haven't any breasts, but that's just my theory. But they flock around young handsome priests like flies...Poor fellows can't shake them off for anything. She must have got word of Father M's visit."

"Good Lord, is there any way she can get past the butler? You're not armed are you? We'll have to warn Father M about this..."

"No, she won't get past him, and no I am not armed but soon will be...Father M will be under the protection of the Countess all weekend, so he's safe. Knut won't dare go up against the Countess. Who would?

We have to make our way slowly down the hedge while Weimer keeps her busy...One of the barns is just down at the end, and we'll be safe there.

"Well, can't we just tell the Countess about it and let her handle it?"

"Good God man, I don't hate the girl that much...You don't know what you're asking. And the problem is that Knut knows I won't tell because the results wouldn't be very pretty. We'll just have to stay out of her way...I haven't the heart to sign her death warrant, along with the rest of her family...You don't know the Countess."

"Well, now what? I say Seal, you have a spot of dirt on your trousers..."

"Let's move out, the Baron's down there somewhere and he'll give us aid and succor. Yes, I noticed the dirt...The Knut has a lot to answer for..."

For Immediate Release

Relish the Gentleman: Our Man about Mayfair 

Sir Basil Seal

You Pathetic Sheep, Why are you wearing your daughter's shoes? Please visit one of my favourite web sites: I Hate Crocs Dot Com... For the pathetic sheep out there who follow fads, this site is dedicated to the elimination of Crocs and those who think that their excuses for wearing them are viable. Do not trot out the "comfortable" clap trap..." "Comfortable" means you are to lazy and childlike to dress like an adult. Besides I'm sure you read an article in Cosmo or somewhere that wearing women's shoes and dressing like a 7 year old will get you laid. Tosser. Give your children their shoes and clothes back and try dressing like a grown up. Wearing your children's clothes will not make you live longer and it makes you look like a complete ass. Believe me, your children think you look like an ass while wearing their shoes too. And stop with the "North Face" jackets already, none of you people even know what the North Face refers to, let alone where it is located. And I know none of you has climbed it. Logo whores. It makes one long for the "Members Only" days...And I'm sure you're probably the last member out there. Park the jacket in the closet next to your snake skin cowboy boots. No matter what anyone says or does, it is never, never acceptable for any man to wear children's plastic clogs. I suppose you're wearing your daughter's underwear as well...The fact that men are willingly doing this illustrates how close our civilization is to complete collapse. Please stop now! You are not European, you really don't like soccer and women's basketball, no one does. You know that clogs are for women and insane asylum inmates and that when you wear them, women are secretly laughing at you and marveling at what a big wuss you are and how easy you are to manipulate, as they should. So turn off "Sex in the City", shave off those ridiculous sideburns, only Elvis can get away with wearing them, give all of your hair gel and other effeminate toiletries to charity, give your ear rings back to your sister, have your plastic surgeon remove the barbed wire tattoo from your arm and the Yosemite Sam from your calf. Although it must be noted that no one can actually see Yosemite Sam since you wear ridiculous short pants which fall to your ankles. Buy a belt and wear your trousers on your waist, do any of you realize how completely ridiculous you look with your trousers worn around your knees? You must know, no one could look into glass and not notice. Take off that stupid backwards baseball cap, visit your barber, not your girl friend's hair dresser, but a real barber. They might be hard to find, but they are still out there, and while there purchase a comb. Return your "Girls Gone Wild" DVD collection and use the money to purchase a pair of actual men's shoes. If you need help, please ask. Yes, I know this hurts but someone has to tell you. It's ok to age, it's natural. Try and do it gracefully. You're never going to have sex with a hot young babe unless you are wealthy and can buy her, and 99.9% of you can't afford it. As for the rest of you losers, the advertisers are lying to you, it's their job. Get over it and take your long suffering wife out to a nice dinner. She will really appreciate the attention, she's earned it by putting up with your crap for all these years. She's the only one who won't call you an ass to your face, (well, at least not all the time) although she thinks you are one, and let's face it, you have given her enough reasons, now haven't you...Are your feeling hurt? Good. Now you know how my eyes feel when I look at your ridiculous shoes!

The Flying Weekend: Countdown

Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Previously...I & II

The Flying Weekend: Countdown

As you all know, when we last spoke I told you how I had left the preparation and organization of my flying weekend in the capable hands of the Countess...I had planned for a few friends to stay for the weekend and generally do as little as possible. As usual, my ingenious handling of the Countess came back to haunt me with a vengeance.

"Basil, Basil wo bist du?"

"Here I am my dear Countess, how may I be of service"?

"You can start by coming out of there and stop hiding behind your dirty books..."

"My dear, they are not "dirty books" they are antiques and I wish you would refrain from using that particular term...It has a somewhat different meaning here in the heartland..."

"I have no idea what you mean, they are old, dirty and smelly...How you can stand it I have no idea. Anyway, I have here the itinerary and schedule of events for the weekend festivities..."

"A what of the who"? What do you mean by festivities"?

"Stop asking silly questions, I have put together the schedule for the motorcade to retrieve Father EEM from the airport and the schedule, seating plan and menu for the banquet in his honor. We then have the school tour and festivities, the Bishop's reception and cocktail party, the field day and the formal dinner. It is all meticulously planned, and I must ask that you and St. John please try to stay out of the way and not embarrass anyone. You two will be responsible for collecting Mr. and Mrs. P and family and her friends from the airport. I have been in contact with Mr. Lout's office and he will arrive on his own on Thursday, he is renting an automobile. Make sure you are here to welcome him and show him to his room."

"Motorcade? Banquet? I believe, my dear that this was to be an informal gathering..."

"Obviously you were incorrect. Everything is set and I have already called Mrs. P and given her the details. Now, do you think you and St. John can handle your assignment without too much trouble"?

"Well, I suppose..."

"Gut, then that is settled. Father EEM will take your room and I have already had the Flash books removed from the shelves and more appropriate titles placed for Father EEM's reading pleasure..."

"Hey, wait a minute, I don't like it when anyone touches my books, and how do know that Father M is not a big Flashman fan"?

"Don't be silly, I am sure that you and St. John are the only two who read those silly things, and Father EEM is a highly educated man and a paragon of the Church. He has more important things to do than read the Flash books. And I hope you will not go into your lawn tennis Fred Perry act if someone wants to play. Not everyone wants to play 1930s tennis, so please do not annoy the guests with your whites, wood and Jack Purcell's rules."

"And very good rules they are...Let me tell you..."

"What"?

"Nothing, nothing my dear Countess, I was just perusing this schedule and thinking of my wardrobe...Must do a little brushing and polishing before everyone arrives...Yes, it looks as if you have it all covered..."

"Gut, then memorize all of this and keep St. John away from the liquor cabinet please."

Humm...I wonder if anyone would think me rude if I were to be out of town on the weekend of my own party?

In The Begining

Relish the Gentlemen : Our Man about Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Previously...

One day...

One day I hung up the telephone after some telephonic communication with Mrs. P. I had come up with, if I do say so myself, a brilliant idea for wasting time and resources. I might add that I happen to be quite good at wasting t and r but anyway...My idea was to host what I liked to call a "flying weekend", where I would invite the various and sundry folks involved with PP to my house, well to the house I live in since it actually belongs to the Countess, and we would spend a weekend drinking, playing, tripping the light fantastic, and did I mention drinking? And it would be a "flying weekend" because I would take those who were brave enough or drunk enough if bravery is not their thing, up in my little Tiger Moth, which is a bi-plane, don't you know. Let's see, we would have the Ps, and small p's of course and The Fiendish Lout had expressed willingness and Father M., who unknown to him was my "ace in the hole" was an enthusiastic supporter. Mrs. P was planning on bringing her friend Charlotte and h. and as always Lord St. John would be lurking about the place as well. Well, yes I knew you would all agree to the brilliance of my plan and now the only thing left was for me to get permission for said plan from the Countess. She, of course has always been the proverbial putty in my hands, so I made an appointment to see her and when I was admitted to her study the next week I began to outline my plan:

"My dear Countess" I said...

"Nein, no, you vill forget about it"

"But my dear Countess, I wanted to tell you about a little thing I was planning..."

"Nein und abermals nein...That would mean no..."

"Well, my Dear, it is just a few friends for a weekend..."

"Which will mean you and silly St. John running about playing with the Tiger Lily and with myself looking after your guests, who will be camped in front of the liquor cabinet no doubt...And I am sure St. John will insist on bringing one of those horrid women of his, I have no idea which trailer park he is getting them out of...Maybe if he would opt for more teeth along with more clothing it would not be so bad...I can't imagine that sweet Mrs. P would want to spend the weekend with all of you silly people....The answer is No"

"My Dear it is a Tiger Moth, and that will not be the case I assure you, and..."

"NO"

(At this point dear reader I am sure you are shouting that my flanks are in the air and I must fall back immediately while I can still save the guns. I know you are, but wait a bit, old Basil is an old campaigner and knows what he's doing...Told you I had an ace in the hole...Whites of their eyes and all that, what?)

"Well my darling Countess, as you say, I will give Father M. a call and rescind the invitation...I better get cracking..." Turning to go of course.

"Wait, do you mean that The Father EEM has agreed to come for this flying thing"?

"Why, yes, he was very keen on coming, he wanted to see the school and..." (She is the Governor of The Academy of the Sacred Heart, a local Catholic Prep school for young ladies. Actually she owns it, which is why she's the Governor.)

"Well, why did you not say so? Now, go away I will be busy planning this all out. It must be extra special for Dear Father EEM...I will call Mrs. P immediately and begin preparations. Let's see...There will be the motorcade from the airport and bishop's dinner, must call the bishop immediately, select an entourage from the school, schedule tour and welcome festivities...Oh it will be splendid...Father EEM here...Who would believe it...Go away, I will have it all worked out very soon...Let's see now, the menus will have to be done and the guest rooms prepared...

I had already sauntered down the hall..."Hey St. John, old chap, we're on!"

...One Recent Afternoon...

Relish the Gentleman: Our Man about Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

...One recent afternoon...

"Basil? Basil! I know you're listening to me because your knuckles are turning white. So put down the Ambler like a good boy and have your tea."

"Prefer coffee."

"Well, you're having tea today."

"Coffee."

"My dear Sir Basil, drink it or wear it..."

"Prefer coffee."

"I will tell the Countess."

"Alright, I would love some tea."

"Ah, that's what I thought." said Mrs. P as she pours.

"I noticed that the Lord Justice has cleared the Duke of Edinburgh in the death of "she who will not be mentioned in front of Sir Basil" said Mrs. P as she passes him the Minton.

"Damn shame, that."

"What do you mean "shame"? I thought you would be pleased."

"Far from it, I would have much greater respect for His RH if he had detailed Bond to do her in. It's not like the chap has much to do these days."

"Basil!"

"Yes, it would have been so much sweeter, although quite a bit late, if you ask me...He could then be known as "The Duke of Death" and endorse a new line of designer hand guns or something. The possibilities were just endless."

"My Dear Sir Basil, you are quite evil you know."

"Yes, thank you, but keep in mind that I'm not an unfeeling man, just an uncaring one". "Speaking of evil, did you know that I have written the story of our Flying Weekend..."

"That's wonderful!"

"The unedited and uncensored version of the story of our Flying Weekend."

"That's terrible, not to mention probably unwise and immoral in some way."

"Not to worry, I have it all under control...I remember it vividly...Let's see, there was you and me, Mr. P and The Countess, the Baron was corrupting your children, Father M. was busy being feted all over town by the students at the Sacred Heart, for all I know they may have him locked up in a room over there still, I do know they have a shrine to him in their chapel...The Fiendish One was there, I know because I couldn't keep him and Mr. P away from my Cockburn, your friend Charlotte came and I think she had a husband with her but I'm not sure if he was the one that was locked in the garage all night or not, and Lord St. John was there that weekend too, because he kept swearing that the Countess' German relatives were all ex-Nazis and kept mentioning that her Great Aunt had slept with Hitler. How the Countess has put up with old Sin Jen all these years I'll never know...There was the dinner and reception in honor of Father M., you know that guy gets a lot of attention...The white tie midnight festivities and that one lady who had, I must say, immaculate decotellage, Mr. P and I asked her..."

"I believe you better let me have a look first."

"Well, we didn't ask her right off, because the Countess was near, but we were getting ready to..."

"I better look at it first."

"Well, ask Mr. P, she had this strapless thing in black I think, and we were all on the veranda when her...

"Send it to me first."

"Nonsense, we have a broad minded readership, do we not? Besides Irish Elk would be interested in how she...."

"Let's see, where did I put the Countess' phone number?"

"I'll send it to you this afternoon"...

The English Godfather

Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

I have a Goddaughter. Yes, I do, and before any of you bemoan this child's fate, or berate her parents apparent lack of judgment, please remember that The Countess is her Godmother and my superior officer and keeper. So, the choice may not be quite as rash as it seems at first blush. But back to my Goddaughter...I have watched her grow from a rather beastly mewling baby into a beautiful and accomplished young women. She has become a very fine young lady and to our joy, if not all together hers, she has recently moved to St. Louis to begin a new job.

We are delighted to have her near once again. It was due to this recent move that I had the pleasure of dining with said Goddaughter at a dining establishment last week. It was after this most enjoyable meal, as we sat over our port and coffee, that I realized my Goddaughter was indeed a very beautiful woman. I beamed benevolently upon her as I thought of her fresh beauty, warm and humorous personality and her six figure income, which she has earned by her own smarts and hard work. Of course, at that moment my smile became a frown as a young man approached our table to share some inane comments with the Goddaughter. It was actually the same young man with the ridiculous haircut and oily smile who had slimed by our table on four previous occasions to share inane comments. I began to have suspicions about this cretin's motives for annoying me with his continued visits. He couldn't possibly be yearning for my conversation. What did this hooligan want? Ahhhhh......I glanced across the table at my beautiful Goddaughter, and it was but the work of an instant and I saw the light. Gold digger, huh? Sniffing about above your station, what? Well, old Uncle Basil has seen right through your scheme my good man. I was young once too, and wrote your play book as well, you whippersnapper....

Of course, I went to work immediately. I played along with this scenario, inciting the young thug to join us. Pulling up a chair and inquiring if he would like a glass of port or maybe some very light beer. Lemonade? His evil intentions were plain to see, written as they were across his forehead just below the horns. I had the young cad marked immediately. I had to bide my time and suffer though his bumbling attempts to ingratiate himself with the Goddaughter. He was barking up the wrong tree there, but I still had to make sure, since you never know what a women will do out of spite. He was a salesman of some sort, of course and probably used facial creme. He looked the type.

When the Goddaughter excused herself for a moment, I pounced. Yes, (I said) to this wolf in off-the-peg clothing, we are always so thankful when our young lady can have a few happy moments, in her otherwise tortured existence. Well, what I mean to say is, that normally due to her schizophrenia and multiple personality disorders, she spends much of her time under sedation. Occasionally, when the meds go really bad and the axe murderer personality comes to the fore, as it did with that last unfortunate boyfriend, the doctor, by the way, said that even without the actual member, he might live a full life at some point in time, well...The jury decided that it really wasn't her fault, you know, being ill, and not herself, as it were. Yes, it is always a blessing, these rare moments of peace and happiness...Yes, and such a pretty girl too...What a shame.

When the Goddaughter reappeared, I explained that the young gentlemen in question had said something about an early start in divorce court the next morning and had rushed off. Left his compliments, of course. No, no number was left, I'm sure he will get in touch with you one way or another. Would you like a little more coffee, my dear? How about some nice strawberry cheesecake? Just the thing, what? We are so glad you're back home safe and sound...

Basil Seal's January Reading Assignment

Man About Mayfair
Sir Basil Seal

Here are some recommendations for your January reading assignment. I would normally like to see you finishing off around 3 books a week, but I will settle for 1 per week since I know you will whine about having to work, wives, husbands, kids, pets, etc., etc. So, I will settle for 1 per week. Clock's ticking, so let's get started, shall we?

Into the Jaws of Death: Epic Fights of the Victorian Army by Col. Mike Snook -"...Snook sets the scene and describes several battles in what is often referred to as “the small wars” of the British Empire in its prime. In Afghanistan and the Sudan, the British fought fundamentalist Islamic fanatics while in two wars against the Boers in South Africa, they fought civilian soldiers who made superb use of the terrain and used modern weapons. While there were problems in the British Army of those days—an overly centralized bureaucracy, lack of a system to select and properly train officers, and insufficient opportunity to handle large units in peacetime maneuvers—some commanders overcame them but others failed. Among the military truisms that Snook illustrates are, before the battle, the necessity of not underestimating the enemy, obtaining and making good use of intelligence, and making appropriate plans and ensuring that sufficient resources are available to carry them out. In the tremendous stress of battle, the commander must make good use of his staff; maintain communication with subordinate commanders; be able to read the terrain; and, most importantly, understand the situation at hand in order to make the proper decisions..."

The Wreck of the Medusa: The Most Famous Sea Disaster of the Nineteenth Century by Jonathan Miles -"...In this spellbinding account of the disaster, historian Jonathan Miles describes how, after the wreck, the privileged few claimed the lifeboats, leaving 146 men and one woman adrift on a makeshift raft to fend for themselves. Without a compass, hit by a vicious storm the first night, and exposed to sweltering heat, the raft survivors set upon each other: mutiny, mayhem, murder, and cannibalism ensued. When rescue eventually arrived, only 15 people were still alive. Meanwhile, those in the boats that made it to shore were forced to walk a dangerous 200-mile walk through the desert. Gripping, mesmerizing, and so unbelievably horrible you won't believe it ever happened, The Wreck of the Medusa is narrative history at its finest."

The Verneys - A True Story of Love, War and Madness in Seventeenth Century England by Adrian Tinniswood -" ...Just as Inside the Victorian Home took you on a tour of how Victorian era people really lived, The Verneys lets you experience the turmoil of the 17th century through the extraordinary true stories of one remarkable family."

The Thin Red Line: The Eyewitness History of the Crimean War by JulianSpilsbury- "...The Crimean War invites description as the first modern war. The combatants, administrations were sufficiently developed to sustain a major campaign at the far end of long and tenuous supply lines. Technical innovations -- rifled muskets, steam warships, the electric telegraph -- shaped operations. Yet at the same time the Crimea can be described as not merely dated but retrograde. In particular the British army emerged as something from a museum. Locked into an atrophied Wellingtonian legacy, it was commanded by superannuated figureheads and empty-headed incompetents. In consequence Britain's soldiers were sacrificed in ill-planned battles, left to die in charnel houses called hospitals, and allowed to rot from privation and disease. The Crimean War was in fact a complex synergy of post-Napoleonic and pre-Great War elements. It confused participants as well as baffled historians..."