Category Archives: Gardening and flowers

Fairy Flowers: 1903

The May Fairy Cecily Barker

The May Fairy, Cicely Mary Barker

Fairy Flowers

Those who had to pass at night through lonely places, such as woods and moors, in the olden time, used to be on the lookout lest they should come upon the fairy folk, or be surprised by them. People regarded these imaginary creatures—who were also called “pixies,” and other names—with some curiosity, and a little fear, too. Indeed, they spoke of them as the “good folk,” though they did not think them always good, but supposed they had rather a liking for doing mischief.

One of the funny things about the fairies was the sudden way in which they appeared or vanished from view, and another was that they could make themselves quite tiny if so inclined— small enough to hide within the bell of a cowslip. To sip the dew of morning or evening was a pleasant refreshment to them, and their fondness for dancing was shown by the fairy rings to be seen in meadows or parks. These rings, however, can be easily explained. They are caused by a peculiar fungus which we in circles after moist weather. No wonder is it that some woodland and wayside flowers came to be linked with the fairies, because they were supposed to haunt these.

People seem never tired of discussing what the name ‘foxglove’ means, for while many think this showy flower of the glades was really so called from some connection between it and the fox, a larger number declare it was the ‘folk’s glove,’ since the bells were thought to serve as a hiding-place for the fays or fairies. Some say the flowers were used by these little creatures as caps, gloves, or as petticoats, perhaps, when they were very small.

According to one old author, the fine films spun by the gossamer spider made mantles for the chiefs among them. The delicate flower of the wood-sorrel is known in Wales as the fairy-bell, from a belief that these beings were called to their nightly gambols by a sound which its petals gave.

In Brittany, also in parts of Ireland, the hawthorn, or May-bush, is called the fairy thorn, and fairies are said to hold meetings under the old and twisted bushes to be seen about some moorlands. Fairies were thought to avoid places in which yellow flowers abounded. White ones attracted them, such as the common stitchwort of our hedgerows and the frail wood anemone, touched with a pinkish tint, which soon loses its blossoms when the rough winds of spring are blowing. Even yet there are boys in Devonshire who will not gather the stitchwort, lest, as a result, they should be ‘pixy-led,’ and in the Isle of Man the St. John’s Wort is held to be sacred to fairies, so the traveller is careful to avoid stepping upon the plant.

Young elves, the Norwegians said, are fond of sheltering themselves under the rosemary or the wild thyme. Likely enough, sometimes when the little brown lizard happened to be seen gliding amid the tufts of heather, people thought that it was a fairy, for it was supposed that they did not always appear in their favourite colour of bright green, but now and then dressed in dark grey or brown. The plants oddly called toadstools have had also the name of ‘pixy-stools,’ or, about North Wales, that of ‘fairy tables.’ That common hedgerow plant, the mallow, which has showy purplish flowers, shows in autumn small round fruits, to which the name of fairy cheeses has been given. But the fairies did not always sport about wild or shady spots. Our ancestors thought that parties of them visited gardens, and played at hide-and-seek amongst the tulips.

J. R.S. C.

Chatterbox, J. Erskine Clarke, M.A., editor, 1903: p. 211

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: The 2018 RHS Chelsea Flower Show is drawing to a close. Mrs Daffodil has read about a horticultural trend called “fairy gardens,” where tiny fairy residences and garden accessories are added to wee landscapes. Mrs Daffodil wonders if, like “hummingbird” or “butterfly” gardens, with their carefully chosen, nectar-rich plantings, “fairy gardens” are designed to attract the fae creatures? Perhaps the hints above will suggest plants to include and avoid. And, if any of Mrs Daffodil’s readers’ fairy gardens do entice any of The Gentry to take up residence, Mrs Daffodil suggests installing a “trail cam” to capture the evidence. The Fairy Investigation Society would be most interested. 

 

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

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The Floral Fête: 1892

 

A Floral Phaeton Santa Barbara

THE SANTA BARBARA FLOWER CARNIVAL

In April 19 the city of Santa Barbara California, engaged in a magnificent Floral Festival, a “Battle of Flowers,” which lasted four days. The affair was a success from first to last, and reflects great credit upon the inhabitants of the city, for everybody from mayor to common citizen seemed to have a hand in the enterprise. The event was evidently based upon both sentiment and good sense; it was a grand holiday, adapted to the tastes of all, from gray-haired men and matrons down to little children. And much to the credit of the city be it said that those elements which during public holidays so frequently lead to excesses of various kinds were entirely wanting. This open-air flower-festival was as innocent and pure as it was gay and cheerful.

santa barbara floral fete tandem floral cart

In our churches and Sabbath schools a day known as Floral Day has for some year been quite generally observed. The Santa Barbara festival was an enlargement of this—a city instead of a mere congregation participating. Such consistent methods of engaging in public festivals are commendable, and it is with pleasure that we devote space in this issue to some notice of the event.

Before the visit of President Harrison to the Pacific Coast early in the current year, C. F. Eaton, of Monticello. suggested among ways of showing general appreciation of the presence of our chief magistrate a “Battle of Flowers,” such as may be seen every year in the city of Nice, France. The idea was adopted and the result was so satisfactory that later on a score of the leading citizens resolved to inaugurate an annual season of floral festivities. For this purpose the Santa Barbara Floral Festivities Association was formed. This year witnesses the first season of its usefulness. It is the intention of the association to incorporate, and thus to provide for such a festival yearly in Santa Barbara.

floral wheels of the bicycle club santa barbara

This season’s festivities began with a display of horticultural products in the pavilion at the fair grounds. Owing to the lateness of the season and the remarkable weather of the past month. it had been feared that this would not be a very brilliant success. So much is always expected of Santa Barbara because of her celebrity as the home of the rose and many subtropical flowers, that more than one true friend of the city shook his head over the prospects of the horticultural exhibit. But it was a decided and pronounced success, as all who visited the pavilion testified.

Santa barbara carriage in louis style

But the great event of the carnival was the street procession which signalized the triumphal entry of the goddess Flora to this fair city. At an early hour of the day on which it took place, the people on the main street had begun to decorate their several places of business so that all might be in readiness for the pageant of floral cars and other vehicles passing. Much taste was shown in adorning the buildings, and garlands, cornucopias, vines, pampas-plumes, evergreens, flags and hunting were everywhere used in abundance. Many windows were converted into flower-gardens, filled with lilies, roses and other flowers.

The day itself was all that could be desired for making a success of the procession. All the forenoon State street was one surging mass of pedestrians and carriages. Hundreds of strangers were everywhere present, every street-car was filled, and the busses and hacks did a thriving business. All the people were bent on having a thoroughly good time and on making the most of the day.

Santa Barbara decorations of Devoniensis roses

It was nearly two o’clock when the procession began to move. The first vehicle that followed the band of music and the marshal with his aids was a grand floral float twenty feet long and eight feet wide, drawn by four large gray horses ridden by boys and led by four men dressed in semi-oriental costumes. The float stood about five feet from the ground and from the top downward was draped with moss and calla-lilies. The top was painted and upholstered to resemble water upon which floated five shell-like boats. The four smaller boats were occupied by beautiful young girls. Each boat was supplied with golden oars and silken sails. In the larger and more beautiful boat sat the goddess Flora— Senorita Carmelita Dibblee. Behind the goddess and rising above her was a very handsome canopy of silk— outside yellow, inside pale azure-blue with delicate figures of small roses. This was draped with tassels and ropes of silk. The sails were of white satin. Ribbons of satin passed from each boat to the hands of the goddess.

Of the many other vehicles which entered into the pageant, there is not space to give a description here. Some of them are shown in the annexed engravings, made from photographs. Suffice it to say that they represented the application of much taste and skill, while it was plain to see that flowers without stint were available for the occasion. One native flower of which all Californians are proud — the eschscholtzia, was used with lavish profusion, and roses loading the air with fragrance, lilies, callas, marguerites, smilax and wild brodiaeas were among other kinds freely employed.

During the four days of the festival a brilliant reception, a grand tournament, and a ball were given; also a competitive display of flowers and fruits, for which numerous cash prizes were given. No sooner was the floral fête-day over, than the participants began to consider the good reasons apparent for an annual perpetuation of the day in Santa Barbara. It is to be hoped the example here set forth may be widely heeded, and that such fête-days may be multiplied throughout our land.

American Gardening 1892: pp. 395-396

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  Mrs Daffodil is desolate at not having any illustrations of the shell-like boats of the Goddess Flora and her attendants, but hopes that the floral carriages will make up for the lack. Mrs Daffodil understands that there is a similar entertainment held every year in Pasadena, California called “The Rose Bowl Parade” where floats entirely made of various sorts of vegetation delight viewers. It has something to do with American foot-ball, which is not the proper sort, so details are scanty in the British papers.

Mrs Daffodil normally leaves matters floral to the gardeners, but Angus McKew, head gardener at the Hall, has been good enough to inform Mrs Daffodil that the Eschscholzia is also known as the California Poppy, while brodiaeas are commonly called “cluster-lilies.” Mrs Daffodil is greatly obliged to Mr McKew and will try to temper the Hall’s requests for cut flowers.

 

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

The Mystery of the Italian Flowers: c. 1900

Italian flowers illustration San Francisco Sunday Call

 

To the Editor of The Sunday Call.

Sir: The accompanying recital of fact is fully vouched for. The part I myself took in the incident—being in Italy at the time, as this story states—is truly described in every particular; the part taken in it by my relative, as mentioned in the story, is presented exactly as she told it to me after my return to America and confirmed by a record made at the time by Mrs. ___, who is also mentioned in the narrative.

The late Wilkie Collins, the English novelist, with whom I was well acquainted and to whom I first related the story (a man, as is well known, who gave much attention during his life to occult subjects), told me at his home in London that he had investigated at least 1,500 alleged instances of supernatural visitations and that this one was the best authenticated of any that had come under his notice. I inclose the names of the persons who had part in this experience. Yours truly,

*____

*Name of writer and names in narrative in possession of The Sunday Call.

Some years ago, in the course of travels which ultimately took me twice around the world, I found myself fin Naples, having arrived there from a leisurely trip that began at Gibraltar and had brought me by

easy stages and by many stops en route through the Mediterranean. The time of year was late February and the season, even for southern Italy, was much advanced; so in visiting the island of Capri (the exact date, I recollect, was February 22) I found this most charming spot in the Vesuvian bay smiling and verdant and was tempted by the brilliant sunlight and warm breezes to explore the hilly country which rose above the port at which I had landed.

The fields upon these heights were green with grass and spangled with a delicate white flower bearing a yellow center, which, while smaller than our American daisies and held upon more slender stalks, reminded me of them. Having in mind certain friends then in bleak New England, from where I had strayed to this land of summer, I plucked a number of these blossoms arid placed them between the leaves of my guide book—Baedeker’s “Southern Italy”—intending to inclose them in letters which I then planned to write to these friends, contrasting the conditions attending their Washington’s birthday with those in which I fortunately found myself.

Returning to Naples, the many interests of that city put out of my head for the time the thought of letter writing and three days later I took a train for Rome, with my correspondence still in arrears. The first day of my stay in Rome was devoted to a carriage excursion into the Campagna, and on returning to the city I stopped to see that most interesting and touching of Roman monuments, the tomb of Cecilia Matella. Every tourist knows and has visited that beautiful memorial, and so I do not need to describe its massive walls, its roof, now fallen and leaving the sepulcher open to the sky, and the heavy turf which covers the earth of its interior. This green carpet of nature, when I visited the tomb, was thickly strewn with fragrant violets, and of these, as of the daisylike flowers I had found In Capri, I collected several and placed them In my guide book, this time Baedeker’s “Central Italy.” I mention these two books, the “Southern” and the “Central Italy,” because they have an important bearing on my story.

The next day, calling at my banker’s, I saw an announcement that letters posted before 4 o’clock that afternoon would be forwarded to catch the mall for New York by a specially fast steamer from Liverpool, and I hastened back to my hotel with the purpose of preparing, and thus expediting, my much delayed correspondence. The most important duty of the moment seemed to be the writing of a letter to a very near and dear relative of mine in a certain city of New England, and to this I particularly addressed myself. I described my trip through the Mediterranean and my experiences in Naples and Rome, and concluded my letter as follows:

“In Naples I found February to be like our New England May, and in Capri, which I visited on Washington’s birthday, I found the heights of the island spangled over with delicate flowers, some of which I plucked and inclose in this letter. And speaking of flowers, I send you also some violets which I gathered yesterday at the tomb of Cecilia Matella, outside of Rome —you know about this monument, or, if not, you can look up its history and save me from transcribing a paragraph from the guidebook. I send you these flowers from Naples and Rome, respectively, in order that you may understand in what agreeable surroundings I find myself, as compared with the ice and snow and bitter cold which is probably your experience at this season.”

Having finished this letter, I took from the guidebook on “Central Italy,” which lay on the table before me, the violets from the tomb of Cecilia Matella, inclosed them, with the sheets I had written, in an envelope, sealed and addressed it, when it suddenly occurred to me that I had left out the flowers I had plucked in Capri. These I recalled, were still in the guidebook for “Southern Italy,” which I had laid away in my portmanteau as of no further use to me—accordingly I unstrapped and unlocked the portmanteau, found the guidebook, took out the flowers from Capri, which were still between its leaves, opened and destroyed the envelope already addressed, added the daisies to the violets and put the whole into a new inclosure, which I again directed, stamped and duly dropped Into the mailbox at the banker’s.

I am insistent upon these details because they particularly impressed upon my mind the certainty that both varieties of flowers were inclosed in the letter to my relative.

Subsequent events would have been strange enough if I had not placed the flowers in the letter at all—but the facts above described assure me that there is no question that I did so, and make these after events more than ever inexplicable.

So much for my own part in the affair—now for its conclusion in New England.

My relative mentioned above was living at this time in a hotel In a New England city where she had a suite of rooms comprising parlor, bedroom and bath. With her was a child of some eight years of age, daughter of a very dear friend, for whom she cared after the death of the mother, some years before. On the same floor of the hotel were apartments occupied by Mrs.__, a woman whose name is well known in American literature and with whom my relative sustained a very intimate friendship. I am indebted for the facts I am now setting down not only to my relative, who gave me an oral account of them on my return from abroad, but also to Mrs.__ , who made and preserved a written record, of them at the time.

About 10 days after I had posted my letter inclosing the flowers from Capri and Rome my relative suddenly awoke in the middle of the night and saw standing at the foot of her bed the form of the child’s mother. The aspect of the apparition was so serene and gracious that, although greatly startled, she felt no alarm. Then she heard, as if from a voice at a great distance, the words. “I have brought you some flowers from W__.” At the next Instant the figure vanished. The visitation had been so brief that my relative, although she at once arose and lighted the gas, argued to herself that she had been dreaming, and after a few minutes extinguished the light and returned to bed, where she slept soundly until 6 o’clock the next morning.

Always an early riser, she dressed at once and went from her bedroom, where the child was still sleeping, to her parlor. In the center of the room was a table, covered with a green cloth, and as she entered and chanced to glance at it she saw to her surprise a number of dried flowers scattered over A part of these she recognized as violets, but the rest were unfamiliar to her, although they resembled very small daisies.

The vision of the night was at once forcibly recalled to her, and the words of the apparition. “I have brought you some flowers.”” seemed to have a meaning, though what it was she could not understand. After examining these strange blossoms for a time she returned to her chamber and awakened the child, whom she then took to see the flowers and asked If she knew anything about them. “Why, no.” the little girl replied; “I have never seen them before. I was reading my new book at the table last night until I went to bed. and if they were there then I should have seen them.” So the flowers were gathered up and placed on the shelf above the fireplace, and during the morning were exhibited to Mrs.__, who came in for a chat, and who, like my relative, could make nothing of the matter.

At about 4 o’clock In the afternoon of that day the postman called at the hotel, hearing, among his mall, several letters for my relative, which were at once sent up to her. Among them was postmarked “Rome” and was addressed in my handwriting, and with this she sat down as the first one to be read. It contained an account, among many other things, of my experience in Naples and Rome, and in due course mentioned the inclosure of flowers from Capri and from the tomb of Cecilia Matella. There were, however, no flowers whatever in the letter, although each sheet and the envelope were carefully examined; my relative even shook her skirts and made a search upon the carpet, thinking that the stated inclosure might have fallen out as the letter was opened. Nothing could be found, however, yet 10 hours before the arrival of the letter flowers exactly such aa it described had been found on the center table!

Mrs. __  was summoned, and the two ladles marveled greatly. There was a large educational institution in the city and Mrs.__ suggested that the flowers be offered to the inspection of its professor of botany, a man whose reputation for learning in his department, was international. They lost no time in calling upon him, and the flowers were shown (without, however, the curious facts about them being mentioned), with the request that he state, if it were possible, whence they came. The professor examined them carefully, and then said:

“As to the violets, it is difficult to say where they grew, since these flowers, wherever they are found in the world, may be very much alike. Certain peculiarities of these specimens, however, coupled with the scent that they still faintly retain and which is characteristic, incline me to the opinion that they come from some part of Southern Europe—perhaps Southern France, but more likely Italy. As to the others, which, as you say, resemble small daisies, they came from some point about the bay of Naples, as I am unaware of their occurrence elsewhere.”

The San Francisco [CA] Sunday Call 5 July 1908: p. 2

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  That enigmatic person over at Haunted Ohio has written before of such mysterious floral deliveries in connection with the seance room, where they are called “apports.” Given the regularity with which exotic flowers showered those in attendance, flowers must been a heavy item in a society medium’s budget. The  narrative above, if it is reliable, is much less explicable.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

A Violet Luncheon: 1891

A VIOLET LUNCHEON

The Latest Fashionable Fad for Giving Floral Dinners

A Pretty Whim That is Proving Popular

Some Suggestions that will Doubtless Be of Use to Entertainers.

New York, Jan. 8. The holidays are well past and all the busy social world has turned its attention to dinners and luncheons, to balls and to germans. As surely as each season succeeds the last, as surely as society exists, so surely will each winter bring its own fashions and its own ways of doing the things which have been and which will be so so long as youth exists and the gay world goes on.

This season’s special fad is the giving of floral dinners and luncheons; not that there is anything either new or fresh in the use of flowers or in the giving of dinners, but in the exclusive use of one flower. Not long ago the correct luncheon was designated by one particular color which was seen in cloth, in flowers, in china, and even in the ices, but that is past and gone. To-day we hear not of yellow luncheons and of pink dinners, but of rose dinners and violet luncheons. Truth is that fashion must have change and often it happens that that change is not for the better, but in this instance the crown must be given to the later fancy, for none can deny that a rose dinner has more of poetry and more of beauty than one of pink can ever attain. So it is that to new ’91 must be given a high place in honor of the good taste and good judgment he has shown.

The floral dinner, or luncheon, as the case may be, is a notably good thing for many reasons—it allows of an exquisite decoration, and it prevents that most ruinous mixture of tints, which is all too often seen.

The requirements for a violet luncheon are not many, nor need they be costly, but they must be dainty and elegant and thoroughly harmonious. The cloth should be of fine, perfectly laundered linen damask, the china creamy white with decoration in gold, and all the color should be concentrate din the centre cloth and in the lovely blossoms themselves.

violet runner for luncheon

A Violet Luncheon table runner

The centre cloth should be oblong, of length and width sufficient to cover well the centre of the table. Its material should be fine Japanese linen lined with violet silk and its decoration violets worked in silks of Asiatic dye. The cloth should have on all four sides a hem-stitched hem and the flowers should be scattered over the centre. They will be not only handsomest, but most durable, if embroidered, but as the work is tedious, some busy women may prefer a quicker method. To them be it said that if each flower be painted flat in wash dye paint and then outlined with embroidery silk, the effect will be good, and, where time is an item, the method is desirable. The design shows a section of the cloth.

The light for the violet table should be that of candles, and the candles should be set in beds of violets. To accomplish this last result some little knowledge is required, but no skill beyond a dainty woman’s reach. A circular shallow pasteboard box should be provided for each cover; in the centre of this should be made fast a candle socket. The entire box should then be filled with freshest violets, with the candle rising form their midst. The shades should be in butterfly form, as the illustration shows.

violet luncheon butterfly shade

A Violet Luncheon butterfly light shade

The making and setting of the candle shades can be accomplished with but a small amount of work if care be exercised to use just the right materials. To support the butterfly a bit of white wire must be secured to the bottom of the box and must be cut a little shorter than the candle. The shade itself must be cut from drawing paper, then painted and lastly lined with mica or isinglass. When the butterfly is complete it must be attached to the wire by which means it will be kept fast, yet allowed to sway a little. The lining of mica removes all anxiety on the score of fire, as it is absolutely non-combustible. The effect of the candles set in beds of flowers and shaded with butterflies is more beautiful than it is easy to realise without seeing them. The lovely modest flower which everyone loves makes the most beautiful candlestick possible, and the butterfly shades are so delicate and so perfectly in harmony as to make it difficult to imagine any others in their place.

violet luncheon menu

A Violet Luncheon menu card

The final bit of decoration is the menu card, which is indeed a rarely lovely one. It is made from celluloid, and has a strip cut in it through which a bunch of violets is passed. On the strip is painted in gold lettering some apt quotations, and below is written or printed the menu. The completed card is a bit of real beauty, besides giving to each lady a bunch of the favored flower and a graceful memento of the occasion. The illustration shows the arrangement of the flowers.

There remains, now that the cloth, the china, the lights and the cards have been considered, only the edible portion of the feast upon which to expend a share of time and thought. It would be worse than poor taste to make suggestion to the lavish Southerner or Missourian as to the viands meant to grace her table. The hospitality and the perfection of cookery for which these ladies are renowned would make such suggestions intrusive, but even to the wise a word may be whispered, and so a few hints are ventured.

For bonbons, let candied violets be served and let them stand in dainty dishes at intervals over the table, that guests may help themselves at will. Let the menu be not too long and let the dishes be delicate as well as toothsome. Let the viands be such as are fit to approach the lovely violets, and let each course in its turn be as perfect in its way as the flowers are in theirs. In other words, avoid hearty roasts and elaborate dishes, for if the luncheon of to-day has one great fault, it is its too close resemblance to a dinner. If the fashion of the day were to be attacked at all, it would be on the score of the hearty luncheons, and if a word of advice dare be offered it would take the form of advocating simple viands and luncheons, which shall at least approach to being what their name implies. G.L. B.

St Louis [MO] Republic 11 January 1891: p. 4

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: It seems as though the Violet Luncheon hostess would spend so much of her time painting or embroidering cloths, cutting butterfly shades, and lettering menu cards that she would have no time to even consider the refreshments, merely snatching whatever came to hand from the pantry shelves.

To be perfectly frank, Mrs Daffodil considers the advice to avoid lavish dishes for luncheon superfluous. In her experience, luncheons for ladies rarely err on the side of abundance: a scrap of lettuce, some artistically arranged cottage-cheese, and a cup of lemon squash masquerading as an adequate repast.  Invariably, after thanking their hostess for a charming entertainment, and having emptied all the dainty dishes of bonbons in desperation, those in attendance would make a rush for the local pub where they might restore their fainting tissues with a “plow-man’s lunch.”  This, no doubt, saves expense for the hostess, but engenders resentment in her friends, and, if bridge is to follow, creates conflict and irritability where harmony ought to prevail.  One cannot expect players to be able to concentrate on their bidding on only a few candied violets.

 

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

The Hog Pen: 1840s?

s at a trough Rowlandson 1790

Pigs at a Trough, Thomas Rowlandson, c. 1790 http://collections.britishart.yale.edu/vufind/Record/16686781887 sewing machine lady

Talk about Hog Pens.

The dirty, disgusting things! but they must have some place in this world that God made so beautiful, so there is no use grumbling about it.

When I was a girl we used to have a model pen of great model hogs right before our door, and when the neighbors all wondered how farmer E. happened to raise such big hogs, my Pa would tell them with an air of satisfaction, it was because they were so near the house that they got a taste of most everything to eat. When we began to grow civilized, the hog pen didn’t look pretty to us, for the trees in the yard grew large and drooping, and their brown and yellow leaves could not fall upon the green grass and wither and rustle as the great spirit of Poesy designed, but they could shower down in eddies into the dirty pen, and the old hog “Savage,” would nose them into a heap and nestle her plump, bristled sides down among them and grunt like the gladdest hog in the world. Sister loved her vines and posies and neat yard, and I loved poetry and pretty things, and we used to get our girl-heads together and grieve, and guess how it would look all grassy and green where the hoggery was. Then we set our little woman’s wits to work, and coax, and plead, and said our yard might be fixed nicer than Uncle Timothy’s because it was gently sloping, and our kind Pa consented at last, though he said, after that he could not hope to excel his neighbors in any thing except poor hogs, but he was willing if we would let him leave the great big swill trough (hollowed out of a giant chesnut) right under the twin peach trees. I looked at sister, and she looked at me I read hope in her eyes, but in mine she did not see its reflection. I said w-e-l-l, but my lips lingered over the little word like a tardy spinner’s lingers over a knot of soft flax. Sister, hopeful girl, said we could put a wide cover on the trough and hide it all over, and then some of our pots and boxes of plants that were sitting around in the yard could be placed on it, and she thought it would be making something rather pretty out of an old, unsightly swill trough.

“Like putting a gossamer robe on a dirty plow boy,” said I, pouting; but she said we must be thankful for small favors and bide our time.

Pa grew dearer and better every day, and often after a hard day’s work he would put his big arm chair under some of the shady trees on the site of the banished hoggery and read, and look very happy. At last he said he thought some day he would move that stinking trough clear away, and then we waited the next morning until he was plowing on the other side of the hill, and we hurried and opened the big gate and laid rollers all the way from the trough across the street, and then ladled out the contents, and after a little rest we worked with hand spikes until we trundled the old nuisance off on the mission it was meant for. Our Pa laughed heartily because he had two such able girls who could help to make their humble home prettier and pleasanter.

Rosella.

Daily Ohio State Journal [Columbus OH] 20 December 1854

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: Yesterday was International Pig Day, hence to-day’s focus on the porcine. Mrs Daffodil really does not care how “dear,” “hard-working,” or “better” Pa was; he should have moved the pen, trough and all, at the first hint from his daughters. Girls before swine….

Mrs Daffodil understands that “Pa” was fond of his hogs, but that did not require that the family should cast table scraps before them just outside the back door. Most unhygienic.

In 1818 an English traveller and agricultural reformer, William Cobbett, observed of American farmhouses there was “a sort of out-of-door slovenliness…You see bits of wood, timber, boards, chips, lying about, here and there, and pigs tramping about in a sort of confusion.” It was not until the 1840s that the tidy farmhouse with white picket fence and “dooryard” to keep domestic animals at bay became the standard.  It obviously took “Pa” a bit longer to thoroughly grasp the idea.

 

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

Modern Valentine Flowers: 1911

Costly Flower Valentines

No one welcomes St. Valentine’s day more heartily than the florists unless it is the candy dealers. The modern valentine is a far cry from the lace paper and cardboard affair. Also it costs a lot more than the old-fashioned sort. The old time valentine was often a serious proposition—so serious that the sender never dreamed of inclosing his card, knowing that the recipient would have no trouble at all in guessing where it came from. The average young man sent one a year—that is, if he sent any at all. The modern way is different. Oftener than not the donor’s card goes along with the valentine, and if a leading florist is to be believed one young man will send half a dozen floral valentines.

This is speaking generally, of course. There are exceptions, as, for instance, a young man who the other day placed an order with a florist to be delivered to a certain young woman on St. Valentine’s morning by 8 o’clock. He was particular about the hour, wanting to be first in the field, he said. His valentine was to be of violets made into a heart-shaped design ten inches at its widest part, pierced with a slender dagger of solid gold bought at a leading jeweler’s. This was to be inclosed in a pure white satin paper box, tied with four-inch wide violet satin ribbon. The girl who didn’t like that valentine would be hard to please, the florist admitted, even though the donor’s card did go along.

 

Violets for the Girl

Violets, he said, are a popular valentine for the reason that they are a popular corsage decoration. They mean faithfulness, and it is easy to form them into a heart-shaped bunch. In one case instead of sending the usual long violet pin with the flowers, the florist put in a pin supplied by the customer, made of silver, topped with an enamelled Cupid.

“Corsages are in the lead for valentines, next come boxes of cut flowers, preferably roses, next fancy pieces combining flowers and china or silver or gold—the latter, though, usually going to older women,” said the florist.

“Some young men take the trouble to find out a girl’s pet flower and won’t take anything else. A 10-inch across bunch of lilies of the valley is ordered for one young lady and we have orders for gardenia, camellia, and orchid valentines made up in corsage size.

Pink carnations are the favorites of one young woman who will get two dozen of the finest we can send as a valentine.

“White lilacs are ordered for the valentine of a woman who is devoted to this flower, which is not easy to get at this season. I have the privilege of mixing white and pink lilacs if I can’t get really fine white ones.”

One of the most costly valentines ordered at this store is destined for a widow. This is made of the finest specimens of orchids, the sort shading from pink to lilac. It is a three-story affair, standing when finished about three feet high. The lowest round contains two gilded wicker oval baskets, between which rises a tall gilded rod adorned with two oblong gilded vases one above the other. Baskets and vases are lined with zinc and will hold water. When sent each receptacle will be filled with orchids and orchids will drop from one to the other, practically covering the whole frame.

Another orchid valentine is of the same order, but smaller, consisting of one oval basket with a handle following its widest part, and which covered with orchids gives the basket a two-story look.

China cupid in gondola Bonhams.com

China cupid in gondola Bonhams.com

Pink Roses Final.

“Valentines of silver gold or china receptacles filled with flowers did not originate with florists,” a Washington flower dealer said. “I don’t mean large pieces, but dainty, fine, often costly vases and small jardinières which may be used simply as art objects. One of these, in the shape of a gondola, a bunch of cupids sitting in the prow, the whole thing not more than nine inches long, represents a valuable kind of porcelain. I understand, and the article is almost a work of art. This, filled with violets, goes to a lady for a valentine. A silver box with a hinged cover, about 8 by 5 inches and 5 inches deep, was brought in last year to be fixed up with violets for a valentine. It was intended for a jewel box, I believe.

“All sorts of vases in all sorts of shapes are utilized to carry the flower valentine, some of them quite tall and not costly; others smaller and costing a stiff price. These, as a rule, go to older women. When fancy flower pieces are sent to young women the foundation is usually of fancy straw or wood.

“When a man comes in and orders a certain kind of roses and a good many of them sent to a young woman as a valentine I generally take a good look at him, for that sort of order oftener than most others indicates something really doing in the sentiment line. At other seasons to send roses to a girl doesn’t mean nearly so much as when they are sent on St. Valentine’s day. Roses by common consent mean love, and when a man picks out the deepest pink variety in the store—well, as I said before, it usually means something doing. Send his card with it? Yes, indeed.”

The candy dealers, too, have taken to using all sorts of china receptacles filled with bonbons for valentines. Some are low and flat; others two stories high; not unlike an airship, and each when divested of the candy is a pretty ornament for table or cabinet.

One variety of the two-story pattern has a hollow champagne bottle poised aloft and filled with bonbons. The lower part is decorated china and the bottle is removable.

In the leading confectioners’ exquisite example of Dresden and of Sevres china shaped as boats, pony carts, wheelbarrows, and automobiles are included in the novel candy holders provided for those able to pay pretty well for a valentine, and though the connection between sentiment and bric-a-brac is not very clear, at the same time this is the style of valentine the up-to-date girl is quite likely to prefer.

The Washington [DC] Post 12 February 1911: p. 6

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: Violets, in the language of flowers, mean modesty, love, and faithfulness. If they are white, “candor” or “innocence.”  They have long been a staple of Valentine’s Day; they are also associated with half-mourning. There is a moral there somewhere, but Mrs Daffodil does not care to dwell on it.

One does wonder what the language of flowers has to say about a three-feet-high arrangement of orchids destined for a widow? While orchids signify “beauty” and “refinement” in the language of flowers, Mrs Daffodil associates them with the nouveau riche and “stage-door Johnnies” of the Music Halls. Perhaps the giver of the orchids intends the recipient to exchange her weeds for flowers.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

“What Can I Do With Birch Bark?” Nature Crafts: 1890

 

A birch bark notebook painted with strawberries, given to HRH Prince Albert Edward, later King Edward VII, on his 1860 trip to Canada. http://www.royalcollection.org.uk/collection/84321/notebook

FOR MOUNTAIN LAKE AND SEASHORE

Novel and Artistic Uses for Summer Spoils

What May Be Done with Birch Bark and Corn Stalks

Shell Portiere

Mermaid Scarf

“What can I do with birch bark?” writes a correspondent. “I spent last summer in the lake regions of Maine, and gathered quantities of beautiful pieces, some of them very large.”

There are so many beautiful uses to which birch bark can be put that I scarcely know where to begin. A piece 7 by 9 or of any desired size makes a nice cover for a blotter. Paint or draw with India ink some little sketch, and fasten to the blotters like a book by punching holes in the corners and running a ribbon through, with a bow at either end. Dark red makes a pretty contrast with the gray brown of the bark.

It will cover an old frame most artistically. Use pieces of any size, fastening them on with very small tacks and letting edges and corners curl up here and there. A bit of gnarled twig, a pine cone or a pretty piece of lichen can be placed at each corner. This would frame a woodland etching delightfully. Brackets and wall pockets may be covered with the bark alone, or with bark and lichens. Mounted on wide, handsome ribbon it makes the daintiest sort of souvenir menu cads. Write the menu on the bark with India or brown ink in quaint, irregular letters and tack the pieces on ribbon a very little wider, and two inches longer on each end than the bark. Fringe out one inch of this. They may be mounted on white, pale green, pale or dull gold, light blue, dark red or golden brown.

AN ARTIST’S FANCY.

In the country home of an artist on the borders of Lake George is a room in which birch bark has perhaps found its artistic limit. As in most country houses the room is a low one. About two and a half feet from the baseboard a narrow moulding of plain wood runs around the room, and the ceiling is of beams stained to represent old oak. A dado is formed of golden corn stalks cut into regular lengths and nailed to the baseboard at the bottom and the moulding two and a half feet above. The top is finished by running lengths of stalks horizontally, thus hiding completely the strip of moulding. A sharp, small saw must be used to cut the stalks into equal lengths, and as straight, firm and even stalks selected as possible. The side walls are covered with a greenish gray or grayish green cartridge paper. The frieze, ether or ten inches wide, is formed of irregular pieces of birch bark nailed to the wall with small brads. The joinings are hidden or emphasized by trailing bits of Florida moss or pieces of beautifully colored lichens form tree trunk and fence rail. It is finished top and bottom with a moulding of corn stalks. Long, slender brads are used to nail the stalks that form the dado.

You may make a pretty card receiver for the hall or for a corner of the parlor. Take three long, strong cat tails and cross them as in the illustration, fastening in your last season’s seaside hat, of which you have covered the brim and crown with birch bark, with a rim of lichens or Florida moss. Tie a huge bow of golden brown ribbons were the stalks meet. Laundry lists, card cases, and many such articles can be covered with birch bark, as well as glove and handkerchief boxes.

FOUR SEASONS’S TABLE COVER

Ladies who are making read for a summer in the mountains or by the seashore may be glad of the following idea for fancy work from “M.U.S.:”

“This table cover is made of one yard each of olive and light blue felt. Taking the latter for the centre, I cut the former into four equilateral triangles, couching the same onto the blue centre with a thick strand of pale yellow filoselle.

“After painting in oil with a good deal of spirits of turpentine the appropriate designs on the corners—viz., dogwood bloom for spring, wild rose for summer, oak and maples leaves in red, bronze and yellow for autumn, and holly and mistletoe for winter, I drew with a white chalk pencil a line two inches from the edge of the tablecloth as the depth of the fringe, into which the felt was to be cut after everything as finished. Above this was embroidered a heading for the fringe using two shades of gold colored silk, the darkest a burnet sienna, and the lightest of the same shade as that used for uniting the two tints of felt as already described. Do not attempt to cut the felt for the fringe until the painting and embroidery are done, as it gets unnecessarily beaten about in pinning the felt to the stretcher and would make the embroiderer frantic by catching into her silks.

“Of the embroidery, by the way, although it looks like a bona fide netted heading to a fringe, it is only one of the simple ‘crazy’ stitches—just a line of ‘cat stitch,’ then in the subsequent line each stitch is taken loosely linked to the bottom of the upper stitch—not through the felt, save at the bottom of the stitch.

“This table cover looks exceedingly artistic and expensive, which latter it is not—that is, if you can do the painting yourself.”

If you cannot do the painting you can at least embroider the designs in outline or long and short Kensington stitch with very good effect, almost equal to painting, in fact, if the Kensington embroider is used.

SEASIDE OCCUPATION

“An ingenious girl of my acquaintance,” writes “Bo-Peep,” “has added to her cosey parlor at a trifling expense two artistic and novel specimens of her handiwork. When I describe them to you and tell you the actual cost I am sure all of you who go to the seashore this summer will have next winger a ‘shell portiere’ and a ‘mermaid scarf.’ Do you remember the thin, yellow, almost flat shells which are so abundant on all beaches? Of course you do, but when you saw them by hundreds in the white sand I am sure you never imagined what a beautiful portiere could be made from them. Yet to this use have they been put by my young friend. She pierced each shell with a hot wire, and then with a delicate wire fastened the narrow end of one to the wide end of the next until a string sufficiently long to reach form the curtain pole to the floor was made. Enough of these were fashioned for the entire portiere. At the top they are held in place by a narrow strip of cloth of the same color as the shells. The effect is something like the Japanese portieres, but the coloring being Nature’s own is prettier, and then the cost—twenty cents, the price of the wire, and twelve cents for the strip of cloth.

“For a scarf dainty enough to grace the home of a sea nymph, buy a yard of Nile green India silk. Sew the shells on either end in artistic confusion, putting here and there a pretty bit of dried, golden brown seaweed. Make a fringe of the shells in the same manner as you made the portiere, only join them with Nile green embroidery silk instead of the wire. The scarf shows to particular advantage thrown over a highly polished antique oak frame enclosing a delightful water color of Maine’s wild coast.”

New York [NY] Herald 18 May 1890: p. 14

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: Mrs Daffodil feels that the correct answer to the question “What can I do with birch bark?” is “It makes excellent tinder for lighting the fire or stove.”

Behind stories like this is the notion that the “ingenious girl” must do something with every scrap of birch-bark and sea-weed  picked up in an idle moment. Ladies’ magazines are chock-a-block with ideas for making sea-weed pictures, shell ornaments, and all manner of natural fancy-work. Even on holiday, ladies were not permitted to be idle:

If women staying at seashore resorts will spend part of their idle time in collecting a variety of shells, they may utilize them in the fall for a unique door drapery. Fasten the shells thickly on fish netting, then drape of the netting over a door casing and let it hang down at the sides. The shell trimmed netting also makes an attractive portiere by lining it with a light shade of sea green silk finished material. The Ypsilanti [MI] Commercial 12 August 1897: p. 5

Mrs Daffodil has nothing against shells, but suggests that there is no such thing as “a pretty bit of dried, golden brown seaweed” in a domestic interior.  And the very idea of birch-bark friezes, lichen trimmings, and corn-stalk dadoes would make any self-respecting parlour-maid shudder at their potential for collecting dust and harbouring insect life.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.