Thursday, March 12, 2009

Frozen Charlotte German Bisque Doll Story

Home Sweet Home Bauble
by Julee Herrmann HeArt Collective

A Dreary Victorian tale by Seba Smith:

Young Charlotte (Frozen Charlotte)
Seba Smith

Now, Charlotte lived on the mountainside,
In a bleak and dreary spot;
There was no house for miles around,
Except her father's cot.
And yet on many a wintry night,
Young swains were gathered there;
For her father kept a social board,
And she was very fair.

One New Year's Eve as the sun went down,
Far looked her wishful eye
Out from the frosty window pane
As merry sleighs went by.

In a village fifteen miles away,
Was to be a ball that night;
And though the air was heavy and cold,
Her heart was warm and light.

How brightly beamed her laughing eye,
As a well-known voice was heard;
And driving up to the cottage door,
Her lover's sleigh appeared.

"O, daughter dear," her mother cried,
"This blanket 'round you fold;
It is a dreadful night tonight,
You'll catch your death of cold."

"O, nay! O, nay!" young Charlotte cried,
And she laughed like a gypsy queen;
"To ride in blankets muffled up,
I never would be seen.

"My silken cloak is quite enough,
You know 'tis lined throughout;
Besides I have my silken scarf,
To twine my neck about."

Her bonnet and her gloves were on,
She stepped into the sleigh;
Rode swiftly down the mountain side,
And o'er the hills away.

With muffled face and silent lips,
Five miles at length were passed;
When Charles with few and shivering words,
The silence broke at last.

"Such a dreadful night I never saw,
The reins I scarce can hold."
Fair Charlotte shivering faintly said,
"I am exceeding cold."

He cracked his whip, he urged his steed
Much faster than before;
And thus five other dreary miles
In silence were passed o'er.

Said Charles, "How fast the shivering ice
Is gathering on my brow."
And Charlotte still more faintly said,
"I'm growing warmer now."

So on they rode through frosty air
And glittering cold starlight,
Until at last the village lamps
And the ballroom came in sight.

They reached the door and Charles sprang out,
He reached his hand for her;
She sat there like a monument,
That has no power to stir.

He called her once, he called her twice,
She answered not a word;
He asked her for her hand again,
And still she never stirred.

He took her hand in his - O, God!
'Twas cold and hard as stone;
He tore the mantle from her face,
Cold stars upon it shone.

Then quickly to the glowing hall,
Her lifeless form he bore;
Fair Charlotte's eyes were closed in death,
Her voice was heard no more.

And there he sat down by her side,
While bitter tears did flow;
And cried, "My own, my charming bride,
You never more will know."

He twined his arms around her neck,
He kissed her marble brow;
His thoughts flew back to where she said,
"I'm growing warmer now."

He carried her back to the sleigh,
And with her he rode home;
And when he reached the cottage door,
O, how her parents mourned.

Her parents mourned for many a year,
And Charles wept in the gloom;
Till at last her lover died of grief,
And they both lie in one tomb.


  1. Oh my -- this is a fabulous art piece. I LOVE it, Jul. The cool rusted piece, the doll, and it looks like you used leaves and bark on it too. This kind of art is right up my alley, sweetie. I'm wondering, what did you use for the metal, and what size is this? It's simply beautiful. Kudos to you.

  2. this little piece is about 4" dia the glass is a vintage clock crystal. the metal... hmmm... do you mean the sliver part or the rusty part? the silver is soldering - my FAVE technique! the rusty gizmo is something that my DD found in a parking lot that we came home and pounded into a flat-ish shape that i could use for these baubles! there are twigs and moss and all kinds of goodness in there!

    thanks for your lovey comment, sweets!

  3. very sweet, just like the Victorian pieces! I keep trying to win a lot of those tiny babys and always get outbid at the last minute UURRRRGG LOL

  4. Yes, there is all kinds of goodness in there for sure. That's why I love it. I guess I was referring to the solder, now that I know what it is. I've never attempted soldering, but have often used yummy rusted found objects (RFOs) in my art. I have a magnificent stash of them, most of them scavenged from truck stop parking lots. I spent hours out at my picnic table sorting out my RFOs and putting them in plastic bags. Nails, screws, bolts, washers, wire, flattened metal run over by trucks, etc., etc. Such great stuff, and totally free. Never in my wildest imagination, before I got into altered art, did I envision myself happily scavenging truck stop parking lots for pieces of rusted metal, or anything interesting I could find. I even got a friend interesting in doing that, who doesn't even do art. She enjoyed the hunt so much, she went out on her own to find me RFOs to add to my super fine stash, and she found me some really great pieces.

    I think it's safe to say that those of us artists who are into mixed media end up looking a bit strange, even weird, to "normal" people. I mean truly, who in their right mind would happily scavenge a parking lot and be thrilled with rusted objects???
    I'm so glad us "weird artists" have each other and can relate to the thrill of coming upon a wonderful found object, whether rusted or not. As for me....I'm very partial to anything rusted. Call it an adrenal rush or whatever, but it really excites me.

    And Jul, this art piece also excites me. And I still have the bisque doll I won from you (thank you so much), and I treasure it. I know the day will come when it will be the perfect thing to add to my art. So far, that day hasn't come yet, but I'm sure it will.

    Love ya, sweetie



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