A Message From Jenny Wren

 My Dear Friends and Neighbours,

I write you today with the worrisome news that our dear friend Old Mary has taken ill. I did not see her at church Sunday last, and went to Thisteldown to see if all was well, only to find Old Mary abed and quite weak. I sent word back to Carlyle House that I meant to stay with Old Mary and tend to her needs. Now that I am a married lady, I am no longer maid to Lady Elizabeth and I have taught Flossie, my friend and Elizabeth’s new maid, how to tend to Elizabeth’s hair and wardrobe so I am at liberty to stay with Old Mary.

Not two days after I came to Thisteldown, Mr. Penn came to pay a call upon Old Mary, for they are dear friends. He was worried for his friend and insisted we repair to his home where Old Mary may have every comfort. This was a kind gesture as the cottage can be draughty if the fire is not tended. Mr. Penn’s coach came, transported us to his house and that is where we have been for the last few days.

You are all kind folk and your good wishes, flowers and visits have been an uplifting sight but Dr. Thornton begs me to ask you please to allow Old Mary to rest so she may regain her strength. He thanks you all for your care and concern but feels Old Mary must not be disturbed so she may get well again. I shall keep you all abreast of Old Mary’s progress and ask that you remember her in your prayers.

Such ominous news, and not a fortnight after we were all so shocked by the fire at the Butcher’s Shoppe. Twas providence that had Alice Powell and Hetty Thorne out taking their exercise that day and noticing the smoke coming from the upper floor of the Butcher’s Shoppe. This allowed the men to form a bucket line from the horse pool at the Rose and Crown to put out the fire. Of course there is damage to the living quarters of the Owens’ but thankfully it was confined to the kitchen and part of the girls bedroom. Lady Elizabeth immediately said the girls must come and stay at Carlyle House whilst the repairs were being made, though Mary, a shy girl, would not leave her mother. Salley, was thrilled at the prospect of living with her best friend Sophia who attends La Forge with Salley upon her recently granted scholarship from the Amberleigh Trust.

Mrs. Medlyn, sister of Mr. Thomas who has come to live with him and keep his house was also happy to have the girls come and stay at the rectory. Such a kind woman, a recent widow herself, she helps her brother through his grief. Seeing how he enjoys tutoring her eldest son, she has encouraged him to take on more students which he has thought seriously about. He says another curate may be the thing to help with duties while he attends to educating some of the local children. He has applied for another curate who shall arrive in a few months’ time.

We are a strong village and look after one another, something that is a comfort to us all. I thank you all for your concern for my husband who is with his regiment en route to Gibraltar and thence to Corsica where he will surely see battle. I welcome your prayers on his behalf and beg you to also remember Alice Powell’s brother, William, who shall also be engaged at Corsica. I thank you dear friends most fervently for your friendship and love.

Spring is in the air

 Spring foraging

aconites

Hello My Dears,

Spring is in the air, the birds are active and we have the cheerful faces of the aconites to greet us in the wood. I do love this time of the year when nature wakes from its long winter slumber. The sound of the woodpecker hollowing out a dead branch to make its nest tells me it is time once again to forage for those things I need to replenish my medical cupboard. It is also a nice time to enjoy a walk in the woods and see little vestiges of green, those harbingers of spring.

Since young Salley Owens got her scholarship to La Forge, she and Sophia Marlowe have been constant companions and I am missing her company on my foraging walks. I shall have to speak to her after church on Sunday to see how she fares. Lady Elizabeth tells me the girls have been inseparable since school commenced after the holidays. A life long friendship, I hope.

As I was going into the wood, I spoke to Good Tom Meyrick about the taps for the birch trees and he accompanied me into the woods to see if the sap was running. Once the days lengthen and the sap begins to flow it is time to tap the birch tree for a taste of its nectar. This is a special treat indeed. There is naught so sweet as the first juices of the birch, tis like a taste of spring itself.

We selected three trees to tap; you must alternate between the trees so no harm comes to them, and only take enough for your purposes. I filled two jugs and Old Tom, one, this day. It was a day when you can feel the first warmth of the season and we enjoyed a good conversation as we walked.

Tom fashioned the taps from sticks of the elder whose centre is soft and may be easily removed. Once that was done, he bored a hole into each of the selected trees and gently put in the taps. Meanwhile I cast around for a few good rocks to place the jugs on to catch the flow of the sap. Tis a slow process, I will make use of the time waiting to take my basket and forage. Then we may each have a taste of this ambrosia of the woods.

The day was just right for this job, the sun gently warms the air and the wood is heady with the early morning scents of its inhabitants. The daffodils are blooming in cheery little patches here and there lending splashes of sunshine to the earthy floor; the snowdrops just finishing their cycle.

Now the trees are devoid of leaves, it is easy to spot the gauls in the oak trees, needed to make ink. I have been fortunate to find several of those today as well as a nice owl feather to cut for a quill.

Once the jugs were filled, Tom and I made our way back to my cottage where we enjoyed the sweetness of the birch with our lunch of fresh bread, cheese and apples from the store. Days like these are the most enjoyable. I hope you are enjoying the kind of day you like best also.

Affectionately,

Old Mary

 The birch sap, ready to enjoy.

                                                 

A Closer Look into Our Residents' Lives, Part 3

We’ve had a glance into the private lives of several of Amberleigh’s residents over the past few weeks. This week we conclude with part three which is Old Mary’s poignant story.

Earlier this year Old Mary was called to London to make her good-byes to her Aunt Olympia, sister to her dear Mama. Aunt Olympia was instrumental in helping a very young Mary to enter into medical school passing for a boy, so eager was she to be a doctor. Her father, a physician himself, would have been scandalized to know his daughter was dressing as a boy but at the same time would have been proud of her hard work and determination in being the best at all she studied. In everything, Mary was the son he had always wished for.

To say good-bye to Aunt Olympia, Aunt Olly as she was affectionately known, was also to say good-bye to the last link to her mother. All the medical training in the world cannot cure old age and so it was with most dear and tender feelings for this woman she said her last farewell.

For Mary, London was a place she thought she should never again return. She had not yet made peace with her former life, nor the loss that accompanied it. Oh, there are many tales of lost love, but perhaps this one differs from those. Old Mary has lived in Amberleigh so long, no one knows she was once the very lovely Miss Pearce or that she was betrothed to a man she adored. Young Mr. Denbigh was as besotted with Mary as she with him and begged her to marry and journey with him to India, where they would make their fortune. But Mary knew she would be a hindrance and that their life together would begin sooner if he went alone. So devoted to one another, the only thing they could give each other before he left was one innocent night of love. Letters to and from India were much delayed in travel, it being a six month journey by ship, and so there was a long silence between the two. After a time, Mary realized she was pregnant; not wanting to bring scandal to her family, Mary wrote to her dear friend Jerusha Penrhose of Wyndham House in Bexford.

Jerusha arranged for Mary to stay in a small cottage in Ead, a nearby village, for her confinement. All the while her family believed she was caring for her sick friend. Mary gave birth to a son, who was the greatest joy of her life; she delighted in being a mother and doted upon this most adored child. A letter arrived one day for Mary urging her to make haste in returning home for her mother was gravely ill. Once again, dear Jerusha had a plan to place the child in a foster home until such time as Mary could return. Jerusha had three children of her own and the addition of Mary’s son would cause talk, something they agreed was not wise so Mary reluctantly left her son in Jerusha’s capable hands and returned home.

Her mother was ill for quite some time but did finally make a recovery. This was a most happy occasion which was interrupted by a letter from India informing Mary that her best beloved had succumbed to malaria. The world stopped that day for Mary. All she had left now was her precious son. Jerusha had been keeping her informed of the baby’s progress but there had been no word for a time. Mary sent yet another letter to Jerusha only to have a reply from her husband informing Mary that Jerusha had been thrown from her horse and killed instantly. Their plans for Mary’s baby were their own and only Jerusha knew the name of the foster parents which left Mary with no means to find her son. Shock, grief and utter disbelief were all she had.

Mrs. Pearce fell ill once again and this time did not recover. It was then Mary made the decision to go to Bexford and try to find her son. Armed with no information and little help from Jerusha’s grief stricken husband who knew very little of his wife’s friends and acquaintances Mary settled at Thistledown Cottage in Amberleigh. Even if she could not be with her son, she could be near him in this small way while she searched.

After so many years, the memories of her own true love still reside in Old Mary’s heart as do those tender emotions for her infant son. How does Old Mary cope with such loss? Will she ever come to terms with life’s perfunctory assignations? Who among us knows what life has in store?   

A Closer Look into our Resident's Lives, Part 2

In part one of A Closer Look into our Resident’s Lives we saw what Lady Elizabeth Marlowe and Jenny Wrey aka Jenny Wren were facing. This week our dear Alice Powell seems to be caught in the middle of other people’s ambitions. Read on to find out just what is going on at No. 7 Butcher’s Row.

Old Mary, who considers the residents of Amberleigh her family, has noticed a change in Alice Powell, our most loquacious villager, who is lately as quiet as a mouse and not so eager to engage in a friendly chat which she was wont to do, opening her window and calling a hello to passers by. Her Aunt Dorcas, whom she lived with, recently decided to go and live with her son to be nearer her family, most especially her grandchildren which left Alice at odds as to who would reside at No. 7 Butcher’s Row with her, for she is merely one and twenty and propriety expects a companion of sorts to maintain her good name. Luckily her cousin Henrietta, Hetty to friends and family, eagerly accepted the invitation put to her by Aunt Dorcas and Alice’s brother William to fill that role for Alice. At first rejoicing at someone closer in age to have as a chaperone, Alice soon found life had become quite different sharing a home with her cousin. Hetty is a most prim sort of woman and has curtailed much of Alice’s enthusiasm for conversation reminding her such forwardness is unseemly. Hetty would make Alice into a demure, modest young lady that any young man in search of a wife may find appealing yet Alice does not fit this mould which is quite in opposition to her own good nature. Further, Hetty believes Mr. Clutterback the new curate, is a perfect candidate for Alice to marry, something which has frustrated and distressed Alice.

Hetty, a lovely woman of five and twenty is much too young to be a woman of five and fifty, one could safely presume. She wears caps (and has suggested Alice do the same) professing to be “on the shelf.” What should cause one so young to adopt such puritan values is what has been on Old Mary’s mind. After several thwarted attempts, Old Mary is not daunted and will discover the answer to this conundrum and with luck, in time to stop Hetty's matchmaking.

The new curate in the village, one Mr. Neville Clutterback, practices economy as an art form. He was delighted with this offer to assist Mr. Thomas at Amberleigh and Constance. Now that he has a curacy, it is only a matter of time before he shall be gifted a parish to serve and upon doing so he shall have chosen a bride so that he may set up his house immediately upon accepting his first living, wherever it may be. Having met the congregation his thoughts rest upon Miss Powell whose cousin has allowed him to see the thriftiness and demure qualities of this most charming young woman he hopes to make Mrs. Clutterback in time.

How can Alice escape the notice of Mr. Clutterback when Hetty puts him in her path at every opportunity? What possess Hetty to want to marry Alice off? Will Old Mary discover what motivates Hetty to behave in such a prudish manner? Who can tell what will happen next in this complex little triangle in the parish.

A Message from Old Mary

Hello My Dears,

June is a time full of pleasant pastimes and tasks to be done. Our little village is thriving with activity, all of us happy in the warm sun of these longer days. Have you heard that our dear Charlotte Watson has left us to marry and settle in Rushton? I know you all join me in sending our best wishes to her in this new chapter of her life. Lorne Bratten, nephew of Leandrea Wallis has returned from a trip north and is a much welcomed help at the Rose & Crown Inn. Our dear friend Patience Blackthorne of The Brambles is off for high adventure touring Italy with her chaperones. She will be sorely missed but perhaps at some time in the distant future she may enthrall us with her tales of high adventure. We also have the pleasure of welcoming Miss Lavinia Rose Westcott to our Amberleigh family. I am sure we shall all delight in making her acquaintance.

You will no doubt have heard the news that a regiment of the His Majesty’s Army has set up their camp just outside Cheltenham so you may just see some of these fine young men looking impressive in their uniforms when you visit Bexford Market next. I dare say we may even have some of them at our Midsummer Masque. I have had the pleasure of meeting one Captain Venning, a most agreeable young man, who tells me they will remain in our area until August.

The morning of June 10^th saw us all pause in awe to watch the Count and Countess Von Alland arrive at Carlyle House in their grand equipage and four beautiful greys. The Count and Baron Marlowe were tutored together as children, I’m told, the Count being the son of the Ambassador to England from Vienna and a good friend to his Lordship’s father. Lady Elizabeth tells me the Count and Countess will demonstrate a dance called The Waltz at our Midsummer Masque.

Have you all been sewing your costumes and getting your masks in order for this most anticipated event? I have had a very clever idea for my own costume, I wonder how many of you will recognize me? It shall be glorious dancing the night away enjoying the pleasure of one another’s company, do you not agree? Lady Caroline, Lady Elizabeth and Leandrea Wallis have put much effort into the ball for your enjoyment and I’m sure it shall be a most enchanting evening for us all.

The happy news of Mary Thomas’ pregnancy can only be made more joyous in the knowledge that we may expect another new resident in Amberleigh in the new year from Lady Elizabeth. Both are delighted their babes shall be born shortly after the new year and hope they shall be lifelong friends. The Thomas’ have the added good news of Reverend Thomas being gifted the living of Constance in addition to the living of Amberleigh. With this added responsibility a curate will be joining our realm in order to assist the vicar and I know you shall all welcome Mr. Neville Clutterback into our family when he arrives in mid June.

Our summer fete grows closer and proves to be a day of pleasure for everyone. Lady Caroline and Lady Elizabeth have worked with Mary Thomas for some time now to create a day of fun and an evening of music and dancing that shall rival all other fetes in our environs. I hope you are all working diligently on your entries for the competitions. I hear there will be many categories to admire this year and I for one am looking forward to the day.

Speaking of the fete, have you noticed the elder flowers? I believe they are one of the prettiest harbingers of summer. Frothy clusters of tiny buds burst into bloom making the hedgerows look beautiful. The berries have their own uses but the flowers may also be used to great advantage. This week I’m brewing a little elder flower sparkling drink to enjoy on one of those long, hot summer days and a little extra just for the fete. This is something all the family may enjoy for it is not spirited. Perhaps you will also brew a batch for yourselves and one for the fete for all to enjoy.

Here is my recipe should you care to make this refreshing drink:

to 1 Gallon (4 ½ litres) of water add:

4 or 5 elder flower heads with as much of the stem cut off as possible

juice 2 lemons then quarter the rinds

2 tablespoons of white wine vinegar

1 ½ pounds (750 grams) of sugar

Stir this mixture all through the day then on the second day pour it through a fine sieve or cloth into bottles. Put the bottles in your cupboard and in two weeks you shall have a lovely effervescent drink to enjoy.

With all my best wishes,

Old Mary

Foraging in Ackley Wood

                                                                                       

Dear friends,

Even in the coldest days of winter a little springtime can be found. Since the trees have the beginnings of bud and the birds are more vocal these past few mornings my apprentice, young Salley Owens, and I went on a little walk to do a bit of foraging. It was a fine sunny day, crisp and calm, perfect for a stroll in the Ackley Wood. A nice meandering walk gives one the opportunity to take morning exercise as well as be productive. Baskets in hand, shawls wrapped tightly about us, Salley and I set out in the hopes of finding some early violets.

The leaves crunched under our feet as we went on. Snowdrops were plentiful and such a cheery sight. Drifts of them here and there beckoning us to come closer. Salley is an eager pupil and so we talked of the healing properties of the snowdrops. The ancients used them readily to clear their minds and improve their memories which prompted Salley to rub the leaves on her forehead to help her remember all the things we talked of on our walk, clever girl. We added some leaves and flowers of this cold weather friend to our baskets.

We passed by the birch and checked that the plugs held fast so that when the sap begins to run we may collect it and enjoy the medicinal benefits of the sweet nectar from this beautiful tree. It should not be long now for the catkins are showing already. After examining the tree, a bit of bark was taken for making ink later on.

Good Tom Meyrick came upon us as we studied the primroses whose bright green foliage made a nice contrast against the fallen leaves of autumn. Their yellow blooms, just beginning to open, brought a splash of warmth to the forest floor. Tom spoke with us a for a time and told us of some rose hips he came across near the fallen elm he was chopping for firewood, a most welcome suggestion.

Winter savoury was spotted near the sitting stone, sheltered by that ample rock and growing freely. We were careful to only take a small quantity for our purposes and went on to pick some new nettle leaves to add to our baskets. Nettles aid the circulation and it is said the Scots rub them upon their legs to induce warmth. The soft new leaves made into an electuary with sugar and honey help to aid shortness of breath and wheezing which will help Samuel Tilghman.

Our baskets were brimming with helpful plants, barks and mosses, both ground and tree, so we made our way to the old elm where Good Tom Meyrick advised us the rose hips were plentiful, to complete our scavenging. Tis good to walk and talk on a sunny day in the wood: a most productive morning and leading to an equally productive afternoon of sorting and preserving our bounty. We were too early for the violets today, but we’ll forage again when they are in bloom.

                                                                   Fondly,
                                                                          Old Mary                               

Making Ink

Old Mary's Ink Receipts 

Dear Friends,

Harvest time is upon us so I’ve been busy toiling in the garden

as most of you must also be hard at work doing, putting up things for winter, preserving, salting and pickling. Nuts and berries seem to be in abundance this year so once my winter stores are complete I thought I would use some of the excess to make inks. Normally I make iron gaul ink but there are other, simpler recipes worth trying and I thought I would share some of mine with you.

Blackberry ink is a rich purple liquid and yet it dries a grey/black colour making it a nice contrast to your paper. The recipe is not a difficult one to make up, unlike the iron gaul ink, it only takes a few minutes instead of a few days, or weeks depending upon which receipt you choose to follow and as soon as the mixture cools you may begin writing.

You will need a small sauce pan, half teacup of water and half a teaspoon gum arabic. Remember, blackberries stain. First you will put a handful of berries in your pan and add the water. Bring it to the boil and let it bubble for one minute. Take the pan from the heat and use the back of your spoon to press down on the berries to release their juices. Strain the fruit pulp from the liquid (you may set your fruit pulp aside to make a tart later on.) Once the liquid is strained, add the gum arabic and stir until dissolved. At this point add a couple of drops of your favourite oil, such as lavender or rose. This will make the mixture smooth and easy to write with. Let this cool, and perhaps make your tart in the meantime, and when you are through with your tart, your ink should be ready to use. Keep in mind that this is an ink that should not be stored, but used sooner rather than later. Some use just half teaspoon of vinegar and half teaspoon of salt instead of the gum arabic but I find this mixture tends to be too thin and does not write well.

Elderberry ink is made in the same way, and produces a deep vermilion ink that dries a beautiful plum colour. This ink stores better than the blackberry ink when kept in a tightly sealed ink bottle.

Another ink from the garden bounty is walnut shell ink. The squirrels have done part of the job for me by discarding the shells under my walnut tree and so a pleasant walk in the garden to collect them was time well spent. You will need the shells of 4 walnuts, a teacup of water, one teaspoon of vinegar, one teaspoon of gum arabic and half teaspoon of salt. Wrap the collected shells in a cloth and crush them with a stone until they are reduced to small pieces but not dust. Place the shells and water in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Add the salt, gum arabic and vinegar, turn down the heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Let the mixture cool and then strain it through a cheese cloth into your ink bottle being mindful that your cloth, or sieve will be stained in this process, in fact, this ink stains clothing wood and hands so please do use caution when preparing. Once your ink is strained, a tightly sealed container will keep it fresh.

For those of you living in town, tea may be used as a means to make ink. Save your discarded grounds and add five heaping tea spoons full of tea grounds into half a tea cup of boiling water. Black China tea is best for this although you may use India tea as well for a softer coloured ink. Let this steep for at least 20 minutes, then strain. Add half a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of vinegar, a teaspoon of gum arabic and again, a few drops of your favourite essence oil. Decant into your ink bottle and use as needed. This ink produces a lovely brown ink, much like the iron gaul ink.

As you know my garden is my inspiration for many things so I am happy to share my receipts with you. Other berries such as raspberries may be substituted in the first receipt to create different colours of ink for your writing and drawing. Nature’s generous bounty always provides for us. I look forward to seeing you all at the harvest celebrations.

With affection,

Old Mary

Featured Resident

Featured Resident
Old Mary  

No one can remember when Old Mary took up residence in the abandoned cottage at the edge of Ackley Wood. She gave up living in the busy metropolis of London to enjoy a simpler way of life. Gone are the days when she was known as Miss Pearce; today the villagers simply refer to her as their much loved Old Mary, the herbalist. Mary is a petite woman who could be described as pleasingly plump with pure white hair and kind green eyes that accentuate her peaceful countenance. She has a laugh that is contagious and can tell a story to make you hang on her every word. She doesn’t mind living alone, she has Walsingham her grey cat for company and together they keep house quite happily.

Never was there a home so snug and inviting as Thistledown; a one room cottage filled with herbs hung to dry and shelves of bottles filled with herbal concoctions. A simple curtain divides the common area from her bed nook which is strung with lavender and hops to encourage sweet dreams. An ancient table and two chairs stand just inside the door by the window and there is a comfortable chair near the fire punctuating the cosiness of the room. The bouquet of scents from the drying herbs mixed with the earthy aroma of the dirt floor tantalise the senses and beckon one inside.

Thistledown cottage and its gardens exude the feeling of home and draw people to it. A steaming cup of herbal tea, made from the herbs grown in Old Mary’s garden is always offered and guests sit and chat amiably at her table by the window or in the front garden on a bench good Tom Meyrick fashioned for her out of a limb that came down from one of the mighty oaks in the Ackley Woods during the great storm.

Mary is the one the villagers come to when they are poorly, or just have something troubling them and need a chat to cheer themselves up. Her welcome smile and herbal tea give comfort, making Mary one of the most popular inhabitants of the village. But Mary isn’t an eccentric old spinster, she is a licensed medical practitioner, so say the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries who bestowed the title upon her. She also has the distinction of having contributed some of her herbs to the Chelsea Physic Garden which is a great source of pride for her. Yet even with these prestigious accolades, Old Mary prefers to be known as a simple herbalist.

Tudor Owens, the butcher, is a fast friend for her help in curing his daughter Salley of a lingering illness. Her table is often augmented with a nice joint in thanks for this most appreciated deed. Salley visits with Mary often and helps to harvest the herbs and hang them, something she has taken a great interest in and so Mary imparts her wisdom to her enthusiastic apprentice hoping it will live on in the youngster.

For Mary life is full; cultivating her precious herbs to be made into the draughts and medicines that are so sought after suits her just fine. A quiet existence with many friends who make up her family is what she came to Amberleigh for so many years ago.