Hotel Room

                                                          18th Century Hotels

 

Dear Readers,

The precursor to the modern hotel was the inn of medieval Europe.  For a period of about 200 years from the mid-17th century, coaching inns served as a place for lodging coach travellers.  Inns began to cater for wealthier clients in the mid-18th century.   One of the first hotels in a modern sense was opened in Exeter in 1768.  Hotels proliferated throughout Western Europe and North America in the early 19th century, and luxury hotels began to spring up in the later part of the 19th century, particularly in the United States.

Some English towns had as many as ten inns and rivalry between them became intense, not only for the income from stage coach operators but from the revenue from the food and drink supplied  to the wealthy passengers.  

Apparently The George Inn at Norton St. Philip claims to have had a licence to serve ale from 1327 and identifies itself as Britain's oldest tavern.  The George has a long and interesting history.  The diarist Samuel Pepys passed through here on his way to Bath from Salisbury.  The Royal Clarence Hotel is a former hotel in Cathedral Yard, Exeter, Devon.  It is often described as the first property in England to be called a hotel.

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This is a plea.  Over the many years I have written this blog I have sometimes asked you folks who read it to write to me about something I wanted to know.  I have never had any reply.  Over the last four weeks I have had over 10,000 likes from Hong Kong.  I am of course very pleased that you people from Hong Kong like the blog, but why do you like it?   Please will one of you write and tell me what it is about it that you like.   I will be very grateful.

patricia.huthellis@googlemail. com            

 is the email address.

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From Samuel Pepys    May 1st  1665 in London

'To Westminster, in the way meeting many milkmaids with their garlands upon their pails, dancing with a fiddler before them.'

From Dorothy Wordsworth   May 1st 1802 in Westmorland

'As soon as breakfast was over, we went into the garden, and sowed the scarlet beans about the house.  It was a clear sky, a heavenly morning.  I sowed the flowers, William helped me.   We then went and sate in the orchard till dinner time.  It was very hot.  William wrote the Celandine.'

 From Gerald Manley Hopkins   May 1st, 1872 in Lancashire

'We have a cherry tree from head to foot every branch sleeved with white glossy blossom.'

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 Hotel Room

 

Imagine the cellars, 1718

 storing meat

fruit and onions,

apples on slats

maturing, ripening

within peeling walls.

Mouse holes and

a smell of damp and decay.

 

A smaller room attached -

 a game larder,

where pheasants, snipe,

partridges, rabbits, hares

and ducks are hung on hooks

or from the rafters.

Large clay pots sit in the corner

full of earth and potatoes.

 

See the rooms, basement now, 2018.

Pristine white walls, Farrow and Ball,

arches and pillars over large bed

black sofa, black cushions,

lush bedside lamps,

the bathroom heats underfloor

large bath, rolled white flannels

gold taps.

 

Where has all the magic gone?

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With very best wishes, Patricia

 

No prizes for guessing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I glimpsed a Child. The Mind Cupboard.

                                                                            Cowslips
 

 

Dear reader,

The cowslip is a cousin of the primrose and is also an early spring flower. Formerly a common plant of traditional hay meadows, ancient woodlands and hedgerows and the loss of these habitats has caused a serious decline in its populations and now fields coloured bright yellow with its nodding heads is a rare sight.

Like many other spring flowers, the cowslip is closely associated with English folklore and tradition, including adorning garlands for May Day and being strewn on church paths for weddings.  The cowslip has many folk names due to its historical importance and fame.

The name cowslip actually means 'cow-slop' (i.e. cowpat) in reference to its choice of meadow habitat.  Native cowslips will grow in sunlight or semi-shade and are suitable for open woods, orchards and road verges.  They have a preference for chalk and limestone but will tolerate a wide range of other soils.  Cowslips produce a strong scent and will attract bees. 

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Dear Friends Everywhere, I am putting on for the third time the poem:  'The Mind Cupboard'.  Since I put it on the blog the first time I have had over 10,000 people 'liking' it so for those of you who didn't get to see it the first time, here it is again.

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From D.H, Lawrence   April 30th  1915 in Sussex

'There is a wagtail sitting on the gate-post.  I see how sweet and swift heaven is.  But hell is slow and creeping and viscous and insect-teeming; as is this Europe now, the England.'

 

From Dorothy Wordsworth  April 29th 1802 in Westmorland

'A beautiful morning- the sun shone and all was pleasant.....William lay, and I lay, in the trench under the fence - he with his eyes shut, and listening to the waterfalls and the birds.  There was no one waterfall above another - it was a sound of waters in the air - the voice of the air.  William heard me breathing and rustling now and then, but we both lay still, and unseen by one another; he thought that it would be as sweet thus to lie so in the grave; to hear the peaceful sounds of the earth, and just know that our dear friends were near.'

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I glimpsed a child

 

on the kitchen chair

feet dangling

legs swinging

 

large brown eyes stared

from a dusty pale face

 

she didn’t smile or speak

 

about seven years old I thought

Syrian perhaps or Iraqi

her clothes once pink and green

now mud stained and torn

 

her silver bracelets sparkling

in the sunlight

 

I made her Moroccan mint tea

offered her cake

kissed her cold cheek

dried her tears

 

I fetched more sugar

but on return I saw

the chair was empty

the child gone

dissolved in the morning air

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The Mind Cupboard

 

My mind cupboard overflows

with unwanted debris.

It needs a spring clean.

 

I will brush away the cobwebs

of cheerless thoughts.

Scrub out the stains of childhood.

 

I will replace the brass hooks

corroded with salt tears,

empty all the screams

hoarded through the years.

 

I will replace the accumulated ashes

from the worn shelf-paper,

with virgin tissue.

 

I will chase and catch the wasps,

relieve them of their stings.

I will refill this cupboard

with love, and learnt, brighter things.

 

 

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With very best wishes, Patricia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Slow Lane

                                                                Garden Snails
 

 

Dear Reader 

It is thought that the first land snail evolved as soon as there were plants on land - about 350 million years ago - when plants required very wet conditions.   Survival  on land meant a period of unfavourable conditions with climatic variations affecting the snail whose body is still largely water.

Wild snails live from 3 - 7 years while those in captivity can live up to 25 years. Slow motion large land snails made for easy catching and good eating as early as 170,000 years ago.  Until now the oldest evidence of Homo sapiens eating land snails dated to roughly 49,000 years in Africa and 36,000 years in Europe.

Snails were originally considered a food for the poor but over time it became associated with luxury and sophistication.  The first recorded use of snails in cooking dates back to ancient Rome, but it was the French who really embraced the delicacy. In fact escargot has been a part of French cuisine since the Middle ages.

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The idea for the poem I wrote this week came to me when out for a walk with Francis in our locality.  We spied two large snails sitting on top of a telephone box built into the pavement.  For two or three minutes we enjoyed staring at them although they were perfectly still, doing nothing.  And then I thought of walks in the past years through the village and, although not exactly exciting, at least some of the things we looked at were moving!  How things have changed in old age. Still I liked the quiet peaceful snails, I felt cheerful watching them.  They had gone when we went back that way the day after.

                                                                               

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From Samuel Pepys April 22nd 1664 in Kent

'I was called up this morning before four o'clock.  It was full light to dress myself; and so by water against tide, it being a little cool, to Greenwich; and thence, only that it was somewhat foggy till the sun got to some height, walked with great pleasure to Woolwich, in my way staying several times to listen to the nightingales.'

From Francis Kilvert  April 25th 1876 in Herefordshire

........came slipping, sliding, scrambling down the precipitous path of deep red mud, greasy with rain....In a field adorned with a noble pear tree of majestic height and growth in full blossom I found cowslips and the first  bluebells and the young ferns uncurling their crozier heads.'

                                     

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The Slow Lane

 

On walks we watched

the trains

come and go

peered into neighbours

front gardens

looked through their windows

eyed people

walking their dogs

spoke to them

peeked into cafes

smelt sweet scents

strolled to the river

spied small silver fish

swimming in the stream

entered the village shop

chose some cards

a Victoria sponge cake

and some strawberries

 

but that was then

 

now living away from that

part of town

we stand silently

for a minute or two

watching two snails

sitting on a green telephone box

motionless

 

today's excitement

in a small moment

 

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With best wishes, Patricia

Going back

 Dear reader,

I thought this was a funny story.  President Mokgweetsi Masisi of Botswana said that he was demanding that Germany took 20.000 elephants and let them loose in Berlin.  This was because Botswana has been angered by reports that Berlin is considering banning the import of hunting trophies from protected species.   If this happened a ban would harm its economy and exacerbate issues with burgeoning elephant populations. 

Can you imagine 20.000 elephants roaming around Hyde Park if they were sent to Britain as threatened by Namibia?

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56 million years ago elephant species originated in Africa and remained there for the next 3 million years.   20 million years ago, elephant ancestors spread across the land bridges from Africa to Europe to Asia.

Calves are the centre of attention in their family groups and rely on their mothers for as long as three years.  Elephants can live up to 70 years in the wild.  They communicate by touch, sight, smell and sound; elephants use infra sound and seismic communications over long distance.

Given their tremendous size and strength, and because they gather in groups, elephants have few predators to worry about.  Lions, hyenas and crocodiles may attempt to prey on young or sick elephants.  They are renowned for their memory, intelligence and sociability and, as with humans, these traits make them particularly vulnerable to stress and to trauma and its longer-term psychological consequences.  

Finally elephants hate bees, and they do cry.  They bury their dead and pay tribute to the bodies and bones.

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From Gilbert White  April 8th  1770 in Hampshire

'No birds sing, and no insects appear during this wintry, sharp season.'

From Dorothy Wordsworth  April 9th 1798 in Somerset

'Walked to Stowey, a fine air going, but very hot in returning.  The sloe in blossom, the hawthorn green, the larches in the park changed from black to green in two or three days.'

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Going Back

 

The old farmhouse,

surrounded by

rhododendron bushes,

was a funny old place,

full of twists and turns

passages and panelled rooms,

a large sunny kitchen

with green lino floor,

a dark larder

full of hams and baskets of eggs,

while dogs slept in the small

drying room where it was warm.

 

There was a ghost, of course,

a smuggler killed fighting another

over a brandy run aborted.

I felt it, twice,

a middle of the night experience, ice cold, terrifying.

My dog wouldn't go in there,

just growled.

 

Tadpoles were caught in the streams,

ponies were ridden over the forest,

lots of apple crumble,

toad in the hole, beef stews,

and dumplings eaten

picnics on the lawn,

squirrels watching, watching....

a cosy family house

the children's home.

 

But now?

Years later it is reformed.  It is a

mansion.  Rebuilt with mega money.

All the farmyard magic gone,

the sun that used to filter

through dusty windows,

the back door with never a key,

the old farmhouse destroyed,

no longer a home but a fort.

A prison. Cameras everywhere

watching watching......

 

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With very best wishes, Patricia