Over Hill and Dale to Farringdon

The Folly in Farringdon;
a church hall built by a 'mad' rector

Upon arrival back to the Reading Room, having been gone one whole day, I found an unfamiliar book on my desk. The JASNA International Visitor, Kathryn Libin, had found a book she thought I might be able to use in my search. It turned out to be 'a gem', containing not only instructions for the sickroom, but many of the recipes with which I am now very familiar as well as the anticipated effect(s) of using the various foods.

The title of the book (get ready for this...) is:

Anonymous. (1818). The new female instructor: or, young woman’s guide to domestic happiness being an epitome of all the acquirements necessary to form the female character, in every class of life: with examples of illustrious women to which are added, advice to servants; a complete art of cookery, and plain directions for carving: also a great variety of medicinal and other useful receipts in domestic economy; and numerous other interesting articles, forming a complete storehouse of valuable knowledge. London: Thomas Kelly.

Birdies shorn into shrubs (Farringdon) 

We (the VFs and CHL staff) certainly do get a kick out of these titles, especially when these days one tries to come up with a short, laden with meaning combination of adjective and noun, or adverb and verb. Maybe the long flowing description approach should be revisited? I certainly knew what I was going to get when I opened this book. Well, hold on there, I didn't plan on reading heavy doses of religion in a guide to domestic happiness, nor messages reinforced throughout reminding women about their inferiority and subservience to men, and warnings that if anything were to go wrong within the home re: finances, health of the family, survival of children, performance of servants, etc. it was definitely the woman's fault. The section on medicinals was interesting in that there were advertisement type comments about the sworn effectiveness of such and such a recipe... and if it doesn't work, 'you did something wrong' or 'you failed to follow the medical man's advice'. I thought as I read, 'How easy is that, you simply blame someone else when things don't turn out?' I wonder how women coped with this sort of messaging? To what extent were these ideas accepted as the right and proper way for society to function? Or was rejection of these values more widespread? There is so much more to explore.

And then  I got to marvelling anew how studying  aspects of daily life as I am (feeding the sick/household sewing) can lead to all sorts of other areas of study...way leads on to way, as in Robert Frost's poem.

The view north having just emerged from the woods

After that wonderful day of research I met Laura and Sue, two Chawtonites, at the top of the drive to walk to the next village of Farringdon for a meal in the pub, The Rose and Crown. What a perfect walk...along paths, over stiles, across fields, through woods...and there we were after about a half hour. The weather was ideal. The meal and the conversation were delicious. I learned about what Chawton House was like before its transformation into a working library....when it was a series of flats, about the pool that used to be on the grounds, about the gangster who used to live in the Stable Block, about how his bodyguard let partygoers use the restroom during the annual Chawton Ball when the temporary toilets failed...life in Chawton lo' these last 32 years. I am truly sorry to miss the Chawton Fete on August 7; I'll be a bit further north visiting cousins and arrive back here on August 8.

Fab!

Our walk back to Chawton was into the brilliant pink sunset...absolutely stunning. I was thrilled that my friend Kathryn in North Vancouver (sooooo many babies named Catherine - with varied spellings - born in the 1950s!) recalled that a member of her recent tour group in India lived in Chawton.