FROZEN CHARLOTTE

Ruth made a special gift for a friend of hers in NY. It was inspired by a poem she read years ago and wanted to do something special with it. I asked her to send me a picture so I could "picture" what she did. Here's her email explaining about it, and the poem and 3 pictures.
(The actual poem was sent to us in beautiful form and font, but when I copied it into the blog, it just didn't come out in the correct form, no matter what I tried. Nevertheless, here it is.)

Happy Christmas Eve, Mom & Dad!

When you called yesterday, I must've been at Julie's house! We were having our long awaited movie date - that was our Christmas gift to each other: TIME. We had so much fun! We watched "Leap Year" and "The Nanny Diaries", two CUTE chick flicks! And of course we had snacks and Diet Coke!

It's been awhile, but you'd asked that I send you pictures of that thing that I made for my friend in New York, that "book" scene I put together based on an old poem, which was also based on a true story (actually TWO similar incidents occured in, one in 1830 and another 1839. When the second event occured it inspired the writing of the poem as a warning to young girls), which later resulted in the production of Frozen Charlotte dolls. Here's the poem, it's a little long but a quick read:

A Corpse Going to a Ball
Later known as “Frozen Charlotte”
by Seba Smith, 1792-1868
Based on a true story of a young woman named Charlotte J. who died in 1830.

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.

I found this poem several years ago in a doll magazine and it fascinated me and I've always wanted to do something with it. I finally did! I used a paper mache "book" for the box. The silk ribbon embroidery on top is something I made awhile ago for the cover, I had the horse and carriage pin cushion on hand, I painted the scene inside and used glass glitter for the snow. It was fun! I like the way it turned out. Brenda received my box to her yesterday - and already opened it! - and she loved it to.

So there you have the story of "Frozen Charlotte"! Have a Merry Christmas Eve! It's snowing right now and is quite pretty - we're going to have a white Christmas! I know I'll be talking to you soon. I LOVE YOU!!

Ruth