Banks of iron-grey mist were rolling in as we jostled our eerie way in Lady Frankland’s pony and trap to her isolated abode in the middle of Dartmoor. The dank and murky autumn dusk was closing in fast, the dark forest through which we travelled veiled in the thickening vapour that muffled all but the comforting clip-clop of the pony’s hooves on the track. We felt so very alone, and grateful that Perkins, the groom, had lit the carriage-lamps that glimmered through the gloom.
All at once, a blood-curdling howl shattered the silence of the moor, echoing menacingly through the trees. Hair stood on end and hearts began to beat nervously in the most stalwart of breasts. For surely that unearthly sound could only be from the legendary Hound of the Baskervilles, shot by that famous sleuth, Mr Sherlock Holmes, and his assistant, Dr Watson, the previous year?
‘I would advise you, ladies and gentlemen,’ says Perkins, ‘not to walk alone on the moor. You may easily find yourself in a mire and no one will hear your cries for help. Moreover, we seem to have had another hound appear. But never fear, Lady Frankland has invited Mr Holmes to dine in our company tonight, and he expects to solve the mystery of the second Hound of the Baskervilles.’
We were, indeed, relieved to hear it, and to arrive at the safety of Lady Frankland’s home where we were met by the poor, down-trodden maid, Tilly, who rushed around answering the door and introducing guests, and distributing canapés and glasses of champagne while Lady Frankland did nothing but complain about the staff! Otherwise, Her Ladyship made us most welcome, excusing the fact that her husband was in London on another court case. I’m sure the dear lady must feel so very lonely out here on the moor, which is why she invited us all to dinner. But I believe she may have regretted inviting the boorish Lord Westbury with his grand moustache who dominated the conversation with his supposedly superior knowledge of every subject under the sun! He had the habit of introducing himself as ‘Westbury. George. Lord’, and yet was constantly getting everybody else’s name wrong, particularly irritating the Rt. Hon. Charles Appledore, who he addressed as ‘Applecore’ and ‘Applebore’ and even ‘Applejaw’, which was a particular affront as he was the one doing all the talking!
We were, however, a lively company and managed to keep Lord Westbury at bay. The Vicar of Fernworthy said grace but did not inflict any further sermon upon us. Mind you, he had accompanied the beautiful Mrs Amelia Andrews whose husband is away in America, so who knows what is going on there! Mr Andrews designs ships and has apparently just begun work on a new vessel to be called the Titanic which will take ten years to build. Mrs Andrews was encouraging us to purchase passage on this unsinkable ship’s maiden voyage. Lady Frankland told me in an aside that she hoped Lord Westbury would avail himself of this historic opportunity!
The lovely Miss Tabatha Trumpton, a young debutante, informed us of the new London fashions, while Lord Westbury – again – displayed his ignorance by insisting that ladies still sport that ridiculous fashion of the bustle! Mrs Appledore, poor soul, bemoaned the fact that she has six children but that the Rt. Hon. has no money for any staff and so she must attend to everything herself. She is, however, a friend of Emily Pankhurst, so her husband had better look out! A right artful character, he, by all appearances, and it would not surprise me if he were among some devious criminal fraternity. Talking of which, the attractive Mrs Gertrude Pilkington-Smythe revealed several glasses of wine later that, despite her double-barrelled name, she is no more than a common actress – known to Lord Westbury as Dirty Gertie!
Dear Dr Mortimer, as kind and bumbling as ever, expressed his horror at having to deal with the body of Sir Charles Baskerville when he was literally frightened to death by the first hound, having a weak heart. The doctor was emulating the use of population checks which we all considered a most inappropriate subject for the dinner table, although Lord Westbury expressed an unhealthy interest!
Several times during the evening, Dr Mortimer had recourse to smelling-salts to revive the nervy Miss Beryl Stapleton who seems very much under the thumb of her brother, the butterfly-mad Jack. When Mr Holmes arrived, he recognised at once the name of the villain who had perpetrated the dastardly deeds of the first Hound of the Baskervilles affair and was presumed drowned in Grimpen mire. This, apparently, was his long-lost brother which threw us all into much confusion!
Mr Sherlock Holmes was, however, determined to get to the truth! Throughout the evening, telegrams arrived, one of which revealed that a convicted felon had escaped from nearby Dartmoor prison and remained on the loose. What with that and the continuing unearthly baying of the hound, all nerves were on edge! As we enjoyed a sumptuous meal prepared by Mr Holmes’s cook, Mrs Hudson, and served by Tilly and Perkins, the butler – twin brother of Perkins, the groom – Mr Holmes unravelled the mystery which ended in a breathtaking, explosive climax!
The Baskerville Dining Experience presents an evening of a life-time, and is good value for money. The price is all inclusive, covering the carriage-ride, champagne and canapés on arrival, wonderful five-course meal with free-flowing wine, and port with the cheese course, to say nothing of the services of the staff and Lady Frankland’s entertaining hospitality. The meal of genuine Victorian fayre is pre-chosen by arrangement, while a choice of dessert is available on the night and includes Nesselrode pudding, a chestnut ice-cream based on a recipe by Isobel Beeton.
The Baskerville Experience is an off-shoot of Baskerville Carriages and only began in June but has already proved a huge success. To date, every group of guests has dressed in period costume. If your party is prepared to do this and engage in some monstrous role-play, you will enjoy a unique evening that you will remember for years to come. It is ideal for a special event, or for people who seek a jolly good laugh in a bygone era. Over the Christmas period, Lady Frankland is producing a seasonal Victorian evening with Mr Scrooge while the story of A Christmas Carol unfolds.
For further details, please visit www.baskervillecariages.co.uk or telephone 01822 880386. You won’t be disappointed!