Langdon Hall - Day 3

Today is our last day. We rose at 7.30 and had our breakfast. One of only two parties up at that time we were seated, unasked, at my favourite table, in the corner, north side of the restaurant ... Yogurt, fruit, cereal, muffins, juice and coffee ... just a wonderful buffet with a great mix of breakfast/brunch foods.

Off R went to his massage. I sat on the white veranda and then started sketching the exterior of the front of the main house, the southern side (to the right of the front of the house) where The Cloisters are situated and the back courtyard on the eastern side. I asked for coffee and kept writing.

Our time was winding down ... we packed our things, sorted out our account. I asked for a history of the house and got this pamphlet from which I freely quote below. I seemed to recall that some fancy pants or other owned the house and my memory did not fail me.

Here follows a "Slightly Skewed History of Langdon Hall" from various sources ...

Matthew Wilks (1816-1899) and Eliza Astor Langdon ((1818-1896), the granddaughter of John Jacob Astor, the old dinosaur who founded the Astor empire on fur trading and real estate in the U.S., were living in New York when Matthew Wilks came across an ad for a property named Cruickston Park in Galt, ON. He bought the estate with the intention that he would use it as a summer residence. Eventually the property grew to one thousand acres.

In 1892, the youngest of their seven children, Eugene Langdon Wilks ((1855-1934), returned to Canada, at 37, after attending school in England and working in Western Canada. He married a local girl, Pauline Kingsmill, the great-granddaughter of the founder of nearby Galt, ON.

Time magazine once described Eugene Langdon Wilks as a "New York socialite". At the turn of the century, he rented a house from George W. Vanderbilt III so you get a sense of the sort of crowd he moved in.

In 1898, Eugene Langdon Wilks purchased 29 acres at the NW corner of the Cruickston property and an adjoining 76 acres.

It was Eugene and Pauline who hired an architect to build a new residence. It was built in the Federal Revival style popular in the U.S. in the 1890s between 1898 and 1901. It was designed by New York architect Edward Lee Young and construction was supervised by Toronto architect Eden Smith. Originally, it held 32 rooms over 25,000 square feet and was meant to used as a summer residence. The house was finished by 1902.

Distinguishing features of Langdon Hall are "the semi-circular fanlight above the main entrance door and the full-height neo-classical portico with pediment supported by Ionic columns."

In 1914, Pauline fell ill with cancer and died in 1914. The couple had no children. She had been attended to by Marguerite Briquet, a Swiss nurse, whom Eugene subsequently married the next year. They had three daughters: Catherine Claude, Anne Marguerite and Marion Lucille. The family divided its time between a home in New York city, their chateau near Tours, France and Langdon Hall.

Eugene Wilks died in 1934 and the family remained at Tours. With WWII, the French army commandeered the Tours chateau so Marguerite and her three daughters took up permanent residence at Langdon Hall.

Catherine Langdon Wilks married Garth Thomson and she inherited Langdon Hall when her mother passed away in 1961. They continued to live there with their son Graham Thomson until 1980 and sold the estate as well as 30 acres in 1982 to Gabriele Kutz-Wenzel and her husband, veterinarian Dr. Rudolph Wenzel, sometimes referred to as a "German industrialist". They sold it to Dedi-Care Group Inc. in 1986.

My eagle-eyed husband R found a stone, resembling a headstone, near the spa entrance in The Cloisters bearing the name of both Catherine Langdon Wilks and Garth Thomson (Thomson died in 1997 according to the stone). I was unable to determine if Catherine is still living. In 2002, a reporter in the Cambridge Reporter who knew TGarth homson described said Thomson had described himself as the "only functioning coal yard millionaire in the world".

In 1987, William Bennett, a local Cambridge architect, and his wife Mary Beaton bought the estate. They made extensive renovations and opened the hotel in 1989. After acquiring the house with the help of a group of investors, Bennett and Beaton, searched antique shops and auction sales in the countryside and picked up silverware, pictures, antique furniture and Oriental rugs to furnish the house.

In a related news story ... Eugene's sister, Katherine Langdon Wilks (1854 - 1948), daughter of Matthew Wilks, upon Matthew's death in 1899, assumed ownership of Cruickston Park and bred prize-winning horses. After her death in 1948, Katherine's nephew Matthew Wilks Keefer modernized the farm operation and bred prize Hereford beef cattle. In 1968, Matthew Wilks Keefer gifted the estate to the University of Guelph, which took possession of it on his death in 1973. In 1996, the University disposed of the manor house and 53 acres. This was acquired by a young couple from Cambridge, Jan Chaplin and Mark Fretwurst, who later acquired the remaining 913 acres in the year 2000. Their stated desire is to preserve the estate for future generations.

(Source: The History of Langdon Hall brochure; Internet searching; region.waterloo.on.ca; factiva)

Langdon Hall - Day 2

I don't sleep well in new environments even ones as luxurious as Langdon Hall. Last night was no exception despite the comfortable king size bed and the tomb like darkness which is my preferred mode of sleep!

Like my mother whom I am rapidly resembling, I was awake much too early, for no visible purpose, but was able to hold off and lay in bed until 8.00 a.m. I left R in bed and went with newspaper, books and journal in hand to the white veranda on the north side of the mansion. It has big white patio chairs that you can snuggle up on to. Everyone seemed asleep then, few guests running around. It felt wonderful, peaceful, warm but not humid. The weather was perfect. What more could a girl ask for? I worked on this blog entry and read my books.

When R woke we had breakfast in the courtyard besides a pool of small fish, bull frogs and water lilies. The food is great but so rich - we need to slow down and eat in moderation Ikeep saying ...

I rushed off for my spa treatment. The spa is located in the building known as The Cloisters which is also used for guest rooms. Afterwards we raced off to the Stratford Festival, which is 45 minutes away, to see a production of Cabaret. I knew this was one of the few musicals that R would consent to see and we were not disappointed (more on that anon in a future blog).

R saw Simon Callow traipsing down the street and I saw Brian Dennehy (both in productions at Stratford currently).

Once many years ago, I used to say to R that I wanted to retire in Stratford. It's a pretty town with its Victorian houses and the swans, the Thames, the proximity to the theatres. Now, I think, not so much. Outside the confines of the theatre venues, I find the people oddly unfriendly and closed off the way small town people can sometimes be. And I think ... do I want to be the only Italian girl is a sea of WASPs? And R, much wiser than me in many areas, had already vetoed the idea. He's right, I don't want us to be seen as the outsiders, the bi-racial couple from Toronto for the rest of my short life in a small town.

When we returned to Langdon Hall in the late afternoon there was a wedding shoot in progress in the courtyard. R overheard that the groom was from Stoney Creek, where my mother and brother live. Later, we saw them, a very photogenic couple - he, handsome, black haired, in a dark suit; she in a beautiful cream coloured summer dress with a lovely smile and gorgeous, dark hair - holding hands, smiling and sweetly walking the grounds of the estate.

Time for dinner, time for moderation, I caution R! I kept it simple. I ordered the Deerfield Greens as an appetizer with, and I quote: "Shaved Crudités, Late Harvest Vinaigrette, Smoked Cashews, Powdered Goats Cheese, Flowers" and then the Pacific Halibut with Confit Lemon Crust accompanied by small perfectly cooked raviolis in a delicate sauce (R's choice yesterday).

I am rarely in a position where I am tempted to skip dessert but here I wanted to because everything is so rich that my system has started to rebel somewhat. I only ate half of something called a "Hazelnut" with nougatine(?), praline cream and caramel ice cream. Delicious but overwhelming.

I am saturated with this food. It makes it easy to skip lunch which is not part of our package.

After dinner we strolled around the grounds, clip clopping in my black mules over the grass and the gravel, walking to the pool, through the vegetable garden, the croquet lawn. I wish we could stay longer.

We went back to our room and happily crashed. It was a great day!

Langdon Hall - Day 1

Langdon Hall Country Hotel & Spa, Friday July 4, 2008

"No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart." The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

With a big anniversary coming I wanted to treat R to something special. Years ago, possibly even in 1989 the year that it opened, we went to this luxurious country hotel called Langdon Hall in Cambridge, Ontario. In 1989, the Deluxe rooms were $125-$150 per night; superior rooms, $175 ... needless to say this has escalated somewhat.

It’s nestled in this spectacular venue complete with a wonderful restaurant presided over by executive chef Jonathan Gushue, its own vegetable garden and greenhouse, a luxury spa, wonderful trails, tennis courts, an immaculate, if small, pool and a croquet lawn. Fancy, no? Yes, but beautiful.

We returned one other time in the 1990s but after that our fortunes shifted and it was no longer a viable alternative for a quick, fun weekend. Now it's stupid money to stay there (seriously stupid); however, we had always hoped to go to Paris on our anniversary this summer. It falls in August but we have planned to take la carusa to Disney World in Florida next month. I felt I could justify the expense for this special occasion. J is at camp for two weeks, so the parents shall frolick ...

This one time country home for the rich (one of the original owners was a descendant of John Jacob Astor's) definitely has a "wow" factor as you drive up the long driveway. The stateliness of the house hits you, only the seriously rich could have envisioned this as a country home. The photo above does not over-promise.

A decription from the Globe and Mail when Langdon Hall first opened in 1989: "The front door of the main house opens into an atrium gallery, whose upper level is encased in paned glass. The public rooms - a library, a conservatory, a downstairs billiards room, an upstairs reading room (furnished with antique chairs once owned by John Jacob Astor) - are warm and intimate in scale, and decorated with a collection of superb antique Irish mahogany furniture imported by [architect William] Bennett and [Mary] Beaton." Much has remained the same (the billiards room has been moved to the first level).

The staff is very young, unfailingly polite, vaguely Teutonic in aspect … I guess they are staffed largely from Kitchener-Waterloo residents. Tis a bit disconcerting, blondes everywhere you go! I’m so used to multi-cultural Toronto that it’s bit of shock to realize how different the rest of the province is.

I do have my moments when I think, “What the h*ll am I doing here?” and the adage “You can take the girl out of Hamilton but you can’t take the Hamilton out of the girl” do leap to mind. I have to keep reminding myself to knock that chip off my shoulder and just relax and enjoy it.

I think it’s no coincidence that this trip coincides with my summer ritual of re-reading The Great Gatsby. Ambitious, lonely Jay Gatsby ain’t got nothing on me. Fascinated by the wealthy but equally fearful of their power, he meets an unhappy end (hopefully I will be spared this!).

We walked the grounds re-familiarizing ourselves with the estate. We have a room in “The Cloisters” (our room was #35 and named "Twin Flowers"), a “L” shaped two storey building housing guest rooms and the spa on the lower levels.

Again from the Globe and Mail: "The accommodations in the main house tend to be framed with the mansion's original panelling and molding, beautifully restored, and hidden behind improbably thick, brass-appointed doors. The rooms in The Cloisters, a new wing constructed along the south side of the house, have a softer look, with floral curtains and pastel walls. Some open onto little terraces, shaded by arbors."

The windows of our room face south towards the vegetable garden (hidden by trees) and ythe other towards the courtyard of the back of the main house. The Cloisters sit between the mansion itself and in consecutive order: the croquet law, the vegetable gardens which provides the restaurant with its green staples, a greenhouse and the tiny perfect pool.

We arrived at 6 or so and dinner was at 7.30. Dinner is served in a many windowed addition to the main house on the east side or back half of the mansion and it is divided into a north and south side of the restaurant. Absolutely enchanting. Fresh crisp white linen, real polished silverware, fresh flowers on every table, candles, full place settings for every course, a pianist playing throughout the meal. Our package came with two three course meals for dinner.

For an appetizer I had the "Chaput Goat’s Cheese Tortellini with Grilled Fennel Hearts, Black Oil, Pine Nut Pistou Ossau-Iraty" (Ossau-Iraty being a French cheese I later learned) which was disappointing, too al dente for me, flavoured with fennel, in a busy array of dabs of sauces I couldn’t make out, artfully arranged on a plate. If the name of the dish is confusing and busy, imagine the taste.

R said, and it was exactly what I was thinking, that it was a sort of 80s style cuisine. It seemed very dated with more thought given to design than taste. And you only get four!

That reminds me of that old Woody Allen joke in Annie Hall where the two old ladies are complaining about the food in a particular restaurant in the Catskills. “The food is so terrible,” one moans and the other says “And the portions are so small!” If I didn’t like the tortellinis why am I complaining that I only got four?

We fared better with the main course: R had the Pacific Halibut with Confit Lemon Crust which he loved and I had the “Vegetarian Tasting” dish (somewhat fearfully I might add). My friends and loved ones know me to be a committed carnivore but I had had a heavy lunch. A good friend had taken me for a belated birthday lunch at Pangaea and I had had roast lamb and a rich dessert; hence, I opted for something lighter for dinner that night.

The “tasting” consisted of a large white square plate with a small bowl of a luridly green but refreshing cold pea soup, couscous with raisins, and, stewed apricots with a sort of fruit compote. Very simple. Very light.

Dessert was a mandarin sherbert wrapped in a tube like cookie wafer with a lemon cream and cookie base. It was delicious but with each course I felt that there was two much going on – too many ingredients, too many flavours … it wasn’t that the taste was unpleasant, just too busy, trying too hard to be different.

After the dinner we sat on the veranda and were soon joined by three pretty teenagers perhaps no older than sixteen. They were dropped off by a friend in an expensive car. Surprisingly, they were sweet, very polite. One had run up the stairs very prettily in her summer dress and asked politely if they might come in and have hot chocolate inside; they weren’t guests but had attended a function there the week before. Their voices were as Gatsby had said so famously of Daisy Buchanan - “full of money” - soon confirmed by the conversation which turned to trust funds. One self consciously turned to the others and said, “Listen to us! We sound like a bunch of brats!” But they weren’t, at least as far as we could see. The next morning R said to me good humoredly, “I guess not all rich kids are idiots.”

We returned to our room which had a king size bed (a luxury for us!) and a working fireplace, a walk-in shower. The thing I love about Langdon Hall is that it’s so old school as a hotel. Only 50 or so suites. Keys rather than cards to enter, no electronics, no WIFI in your room, just a small colour TV and an old fashioned alarm clock to wake you up. It’s elegant and small and exquisite.

I crashed at 10.30 thinking: I could get used to this!