The Countryman’s Daughter

The legacy of lost things

1-100_0612 — A clock face made by reader David Severs’ ancestor Hugh Pannell with the herringbone pattern around the outer edge of the dial and around the name boss, along with the rare ‘Clock & Watchmaker’ inscription.

I’ve had some more feedback from readers following the column I wrote about the stones marked with the herringbone pattern typically used in the construction of traditional North Yorkshire moorland homes. Reader John Severs had referred me to a book entitled ‘Life in the Moorlands of North-East Yorkshire’ written in 1972 by Marie Hartley and Joan Ingilby. There was a section on this specific type of masonry along with some photographs featuring a well-known local family, the Weatherills.

Another reader, John Buckworth, has emailed to say: “Good to read your article re. Mr G. Weatherill. We were a customer of his some years ago and a great admirer of his craftsmanship. I pass his stone yard at Ainthorpe quite frequently and still see the antiquated home-made crane to lift the headstones. Also there’s a piece of carved stone on his wall depicting a fox’s mask, brush and hunting horn. Most country people followed the hunt and I find this a great tribute to the past way of life. Being now in my 80s I am a great admirer of country life and your father’s writings.”

He added: “I think the old crane was built by his grandfather…There are some very fancy and OTT headstones. However when my wife’s father died, he was a man of the soil and we walked into the stone yard at Ainthorpe and there was a piece of rough Yorkshire sandstone which fitted the man admirably.”

My editor at the Darlington and Stockton Times, Hannah Chapman, spotted something relevant on a weekend walk: “I was walking on the Cleveland Way yesterday (north from Lordstones café) and I’m sure I spotted a stone in the path with the grooved diagonal pattern you wrote about in the Chop Gate area. Could the old stones from houses in the area have been used to build paths?”

I think Hannah probably has a point – why not reuse stones from the tumbled down moorland buildings in the construction and repairs of our public walkways?

I also received a couple more stories about ‘lost things’ and how difficult it is to discard a lone earring. Monica Ganz contacted me all the way from America about a bracelet her mother had given her: “It had a daisy as a charm. I loved it, because the daisy was painted yellow and white…I was delivering newspapers on my bike and somehow the Daisy fell off, never to be found again. When I was older in my 20s, I was water skiing. I wore these cute little gold huggy earrings that had small diamond on them. Of course…the earring popped off…I still have the bracelet and the one earring…Why do we lose treasured items? Hard to know why, right? And it’s hard to part with them.”

I wonder if it is more the memories and feelings that are held within the precious item that makes it hard to let go?

David Severs from Northallerton had his own fascinating story too: “You might be interested to know that in Saywell’s ‘History and Annals of Northallerton’ he recounts how a gardener’s newlywed wife had lost her wedding ring in their garden and 14 years later, in 1796, it was found when a customer cut into a turnip and found the ring inside.”

David also mentioned how the herringbone pattern was used in the decoration of clocks and watches: “Herringbone engraving was used on the brass dials of long-case clocks in the early years of the 18th-century in London … said to be a sign of quality. Some clockmakers used it until about 1740. My ancestor Hugh Pannell, the Northallerton clockmaker, was in business until he died in 1788. I have traced well over 100 of the clocks he made and many of them have herringbone engraving. Most clockmakers decorated the spandrels on their brass dials (the corners) with cast-brass decoration; a few engraved the spandrels; and even fewer left them undecorated: Hugh did all three…Most of his dials have herringbone engraving somewhere. Incidentally on the photograph (seen here) he described himself as ‘Clock & Watchmaker’ and this is very rare indeed. In very many years I have found only one example by one other clockmaker whereas I have found five examples by Hugh Pannell, three of these dials now being in the USA.”

I’d love to hear from you about your stories, memories, opinions and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 9th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 7th August 2024.

Praying for a Tony award

A painting from the chapel of Pius V Santi Giovanni e Paolo (Venice) by Joseph Heintz the Younger depicting the miracle of St Anthony of Padua and the Mule. Credit: Didier Descouens – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=62705004

My column last week about lost precious things made me think about the non-practical methods we employ to try and find them again. Having been brought up a Catholic, I was taught that there was a saint to pray to for almost every problem in life, and it was to St Anthony that you had to turn if you lost something.

I remember as a youngster praying to him when I had mislaid an important item, but unfortunately cannot recall if my prayers were ever answered or not. Traditionally, you were supposed to recite an old couplet that went:

“Tony, Tony, turn around, something’s lost and must be found.”

There is another, perhaps more reverent rhyme written by Julian of Spires, a German Franciscan monk and contemporary of St Anthony who was particularly known for being a gifted writer and musical composer noted for his ‘rhyming offices’, prayers, that are said or sung. He wrote this one about St Anthony in 1241, about 10 years after the saint’s death.

“The sea obeys, the fetters break, and lifeless limbs thou dost restore,

while treasures lost are found again, when young and old thy aid implore.”

St Anthony is known as either Anthony of Lisbon, the Portuguese capital where he was born on 15th August 1195, or Anthony of Padua, the northern Italian town where he spent much of his later life. He planned to travel extensively to preach and hoped to become a missionary, but his recurring poor health curtailed his ambitions. He ended up in Padua and became one of St Francis of Assisi’s most famous followers. He founded a Franciscan community and became known as a champion of the poor and as a gifted preacher celebrated for his simple yet compelling delivery. St Anthony died battling poor health on a return journey to Padua on 13th June 1231 (now his saint’s day).

He earned a reputation for performing miracles, including reviving several people after they had been confirmed dead, reattaching severed limbs simply by praying and holding them in place, getting a newborn baby to declare out loud who his real father was after said father had accused his wife of cheating, and other miraculous achievements involving people with a whole plethora of illnesses and disabilities. He was also said to induce wild animals to behave in surprisingly sophisticated ways when in his holy presence. As the patron saint of lost things such as possessions, people and even faith, he is also credited with many miracles that recovered seemingly unrecoverable losses.

Thanks to his miraculous reputation, he was canonised less a year after his death on 30th May 1232 by Pope Gregory IX, and considering he was not yet 36 when he died, he must have been a remarkably charismatic and impressive man. In January 1946, Pope Pius XII named him ‘doctor of the church’ which in Roman Catholicism indicates his theological writings are considered particularly important.

The original reason he became patron of lost things is thanks to a story that involves a novice monk who stole Anthony’s book of psalms in which had written personal notes he used for his sermons and teachings. The novice took the book, then deserted the Paduan Franciscan community. Anthony prayed fervently for the return of his book and for the novice to return to the faith. His payers were answered, and the repentant novice came back, forgiven and welcomed once again by the community.

There are websites that celebrate St Anthony, and they encourage the faithful to submit their success stories of having found lost stuff after praying to the saint. Some could be just good luck, while others are much harder to explain. One story involves a teacher who lost an earring. She scoured her classroom including looking under her desk and chair. Just as she gave up, the cleaner arrived with his dust mop, and she explained the situation, asking him to look out for it. That night she said her prayers to Saint Anthony and the next morning, there was the earring lying under her chair in the same place she had looked the night before. She asked if the cleaner had for some reason placed it there, but he said he had not found it, despite looking out for it.

So how did it get there?

I’d love to hear from you about your stories, memories, opinions and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 2nd Aug and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 31st July 2024.

All is not lost. Or is it?

I have a collection of single earrings thanks to having lost their partners. But what do I do with them?

My story about wedding rings a few weeks ago sparked a few comments about ‘lost precious things’. If you recall, I told the tale of my mum nearly losing a diamond ring on Christmas Day, the same day dad had given it to her. Luckily, we found it in the kitchen bin before someone had chance to empty it.

Lynette Brammah got in touch to tell me her story: “I stupidly put my precious gold Chanel earrings in before going into the pool in France when the girls were young. I stripped off, swam and when I got out realised one was missing. I was gutted. The girls looked for hours with their goggles on to find it in the pool but to no avail. Years later, I was packing for my holidays and there, in my denim shorts pocket, was the earring!”

Lynette hadn’t removed the earring but believes it had come out when she was pulling her T-shirt over her head and had miraculously found its way into her pocket. “I thought I’d kept the one on its own so got very excited when I found it, but then I couldn’t find the one I kept. They were never reunited.”

Clare Powell says: “When I got my second Borzoi, Iygor, I was walking him on York Racecourse when he was a puppy. Stupidly I wore my favourite silver earrings that were a present from my husband. Of course I lost one. But, for the next eight years, until Iygor died, I would look for that earring every morning on the racecourse as I walked him. Not surprisingly, I never found it! I have since bought two similar pairs, but they were never as good as the originals, and I barely wear them.”

Have you noticed that the word ‘stupidly’ is featured in both these stories? It is usually because we recognise that we have done something daft when such mishaps occur and therefore only have ourselves to blame. Although one could argue that an earring falling out is not necessarily the wearer’s fault.

Clare had a second story: “A friend of mine had a heavy gold elephant charm on a bangle…One day she was visiting a friend and she lost the elephant…she hunted the house, dug around in rubbish and backs of chairs and sofas, but did not find it. She was brokenhearted as it meant a lot to her. Then, about five years later, her friend was getting rid of her sofa, and as they turned it on its side to get it out of the house, out dropped the gold elephant. They were finally, happily, reunited.”

One of my most regretful losses was one of a pair of diamond earrings which I wore every day. I like to use my favourite stuff rather than keep it for best because I feel it is a shame to keep beautiful things hidden away. I accept that there is a risk that they could get lost or broken, but the hours of joy they bring to me make up for it.

When I first lost it, of course I looked high and low, retraced my steps and shook out all of my clothes, but more than ten years later, it still has not turned up. However, I cannot bring myself to get rid of its lone partner. How can anyone throw a diamond earring in the bin, even if they are never going to wear it again?

In fact I have a stash of single earrings languishing in my jewellery box, none of which match, so they will never get worn. But what can I do with them? I know people these days often have several piercings in their ears in which they wear single earrings, and there are certain jewellery websites that sell lone earrings, so I could perhaps try and find some that match. I have tried to find a partner for the only one I really care about, which is the diamond one, but have never found one that looks the same. Obviously I can’t sell it because it is for pierced ears and I have worn it. Therefore, it looks like it, and the rest of my singles collection, will sit for evermore, unworn and unappreciated.

Unless you have any bright ideas?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 26th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 24th July 2024.

Tradition carved in stone

I’d like to thank John Severs who got in touch after my appeal a few weeks ago to know more about stone markings I had seen on a 19th century property near Chop Gate. I likened them to a repeating arrow pattern, like a feather or the skeleton of a fish.

John has a book entitled ‘Life in the Moorlands of North-East Yorkshire’ written in 1972 by Marie Hartley and Joan Ingilby. There was a section on this specific type of masonry along with some photographs. The wordy description reads: “The forms of finish are herringboning, scutching, slew axing, diamond hammering, batting, draughting used for margins, and the Victorian rock-faced (natural and deep rock) employed for instance on railway bridges. Herringbone, the earliest finish, and scutching, popular in the nineteenth to the early twentieth century are especially characteristic. The former inspired by the shape of the backbone and bones of a herring or kipper, developed two forms, a plain ribless (the rib being the backbone) generally used on farm buildings and simple dwellings, and the draughted finely axed, showing a neat rib, running horizontally across the centre of the wallstone, and employed on mansions and yeoman’s dwellings.”

The farm I visited had the stones without the higher-status ‘rib’ described above, and yet they were elegant in their varying shades of brown, sand and gold. There’s no explanation as to why these particular patterns were used, but being near to the coast, fishing played a large part in the lives of North York Moors folk which might explain the design. Herringbone dates back to Ancient Egyptian and Roman times when it was seen on jewellery and in block paved roads, then later used in flooring, brickwork and textiles. But why did the moorland stonemasons carve the pattern into their stones? Was it for a practical reason, or was it simply pride for a traditional technique of centuries past that made each stone look like a piece of art? I have heard that the surface would be scored to ensure the binding mortar would have a better purchase on the surface, however I don’t know if that is true.

Regular reader Clare Proctor happened to be speaking to a couple of people who were very familiar with moorland stonemasonry. They were a builder and an architect who have spent all their working lives on the North York Moors. She wrote: “They tell me that the patterns are purely there because the stonemason was creating a flush face. The higher the status of the building the higher the quality of dressing the stone. So a grand house would have quite smooth stone but a shepherd’s hut would have just lumps of undressed stone. It’s sandstone so it’s quite easy to work. Ian Thompson and Peter Rayment were my sources of wisdom!”

Despite the information, I am still unsure as to whether the herringbone pattern has a practical purpose or is simply decorative. So do tell if you know! Reader Sarah Mason also got in touch about stone masonry, but this time referring to Australia where she used to live: “Bricks made by convicts were marked by arrows,” she wrote and directed me to the Museum of History New South Wales, based in Sydney.

Thanks to a programme of rapid urban development instigated by Major General Lachlan Macquarie, who was governor of the penal colony from 1810 to 1821, there was huge demand for bricks which were handmade by the convicts held there.

Prisoners would dig up clay to mix with water and sand and they would work it until it was soft enough to push into wooden moulds. The excess was scraped off, the brick pushed out and once dry, it would be fired in a kiln. In gangs of eight, the convicts were expected to produce 3,000 bricks like this every day.

After a number of thefts, a marking system using arrows was introduced to distinguish the Government-owned bricks made by the convicts from those made for private individuals. According to the 28th July 1928 edition of the Sydney Herald, ‘The Government bricks were not marked with the broad arrow until very lately; the men belonging to the gang are allowed to make bricks for other individuals in their own time, but they are not allowed to use the Government clay.’

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 19th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 17th July 2024.

What’s wrong with Priya the poorly Poodle?

Priya the poodle’s health was deteriorating but we didn’t know why. She wasn’t her normal bouncy self.

RenderedImage — Priya, seen here with Joey, was diagnosed with Addison’s Disease which can be fatal. Now she’s on medication and is full of beans once again

We’ve had another dog-related drama this week, and as it is something I’ve not personally had to deal with before, despite ten years of looking after other people’s pooches, I am assuming there are some of you who also may not know about it. Therefore it is an important story to share.

We were looking after a couple of poodles, Joey, a miniature and Priya, a standard, who are regular guests of ours. A week after they had returned home the owner contacted us to ask if anything had happened while the dogs were with us, as Priya was a bit below par. There was nothing we could put our fingers on. She had eaten well, played happily and was enthusiastic to go on dog walks.

Her owner explained that she had become a bit lethargic and had lost her appetite. He had been to the vet with her, but they just said to keep an eye on her. The dogs were due to come back to us because the family were going on a long-awaited holiday abroad. We agreed that they should still come, even though by the time they dropped the dogs off, Priya still wasn’t herself.

Over the weekend, my son Jasper and I became increasingly concerned. Priya refused all food despite tempting her with treats like cheese and roast chicken that dogs usually gobble up. She spent most of the time sleeping, and whenever she did get up, her normally waggy tail was limp and lifeless.

Thankfully, one of my other customers is a vet and is our go-to if we are worried about any of our charges (if you run a professional dog care business, it is a requirement of your license to be registered with a vet, even if you don’t own a dog yourself). When I messaged her with the symptoms, she quickly replied that we should take her to the emergency surgery right away.

The owner’s own vet was based a good hour away, so we needed his permission for them to share Priya’s health details with the practice we wanted to use which was much closer. It meant we had to interrupt his holiday to let him know what was happening and to ensure we got the necessary consent.

Permission gained, Jasper whisked Priya to our vet who took blood from her to conduct tests in the hope of getting to the root of the problem. She was also hooked up to a drip and had to spend the night in the animal hospital.

The vet who did the initial examination had a suspicion of what it might be. “Addison’s disease, or something like that,” Jasper explained to me when he got back. I thought he must have the name wrong, because that was a human disease, wasn’t it?

When I looked it up, it was indeed a rare autoimmune disease of the adrenal glands that afflicts around 9,000 people a year. However, it is also found in dogs, and when I read the symptoms, it was spot on – lethargy, lack of appetite, and ‘just not themselves’. Other symptoms include vomiting and diarrhoea, increased thirst and limb weakness. Symptoms can come and go, too, but they get progressively worse, so it is important to not delay in getting a dog checked out. Although pretty rare in humans Addison’s Disease is quite common in dogs.

The results of the blood tests came the next day and confirmed Priya had the disease. It is caused by the adrenal glands ceasing production of two essential steroid hormones, cortisol and aldosterone, both of which are essential for life. It can affect any dog but is most common in certain pedigree breeds between the ages of four and six, such as the Standard Poodle, West Highland White Terrier, Great Dane and St Bernard’s. Left untreated the condition is fatal.

From now on, Priya needs to take a steroid pill every day for the rest of her life to replace the cortisol and also needs an injection once a month to replace the aldosterone. She quickly recovered and is back to her old self.

If you have pet insurance that you started before any symptoms appear, then you should be covered. If not, then I’m afraid a diagnosis of Addison’s Disease will be a rather costly affair!

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 12th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 10th July 2024.

Running round in rings

Have you ever lost a precious ring? And did you find it again?

I’ve had some interesting comments about wedding rings. Janet Pearce, who used to be a theatre nurse, informed me of something I did not know: “A wedding ring is the only piece of jewellery that you can keep on when you have a general anaesthetic…Also the surgeon and operating team can keep theirs on.”

That surprised me because I would have expected in our super hygiene and infection-conscious world that all jewellery would have to be removed. But Janet pointed out that a patient doesn’t need to be sterile and the wedding band is taped over to stop the heat from any cauterisation burning them. “When the surgeon and scrub nurses scrub up they do a very rigorous hand clean, moving the ring about, and they wear gloves, so no risk of infection.” She added: “I have never removed mine since my late husband placed it there and never will.”

After Henry VIII’s Reformation it was decreed in England that wedding rings must be worn on the third finger of the left hand. If you were found to be wearing one on the right, as had been the custom before (and still was in many European countries), then you were at risk of being declared a Catholic and executed.

Lucien Smith said: “Fascinating about the rings. I was well aware that certain countries favour wearing a ring on the right…but not that it was a religious identifier…We had our rings made in Brighton, but as my husband-to-be took a strong disliking to the lady in the shop (he still won’t tell me why!) I don’t attach any real romance to them. Which is just as well, as we have each lost our rings for either 10 mins in a nightclub bathroom (me!), or a number of weeks in a drawer (him!).”

The tradition of wearing wedding bands dates back to Egyptian times and it used to be thought that there was a specific vein known as the ‘vena amoris’ that passed from the third finger of the right hand straight to the heart, and therefore should be the one that bore the ring. But it turns out there is no such vein.

Clare Powell, who suggested the idea for the column, said: “Thank you for the research. I had heard about the link to the heart but always wondered why the Dutch wore theirs on the right hand (years ago I worked with a girl from Amsterdam who did this). Might have known Henry VIII and the Reformation had something to do with it!”

And Caroline Newnham says: “I’ve heard this about the heart connection though as Clare says, most Europeans wear wedding rings on the right so it makes no sense.”

I’d like to know if you have a special story about your wedding ring, or any precious ring. Do your ever take it off? Have you ever lost it? And if so, how did you break the news to your other half?

I hope my mum won’t mind me sharing the following story with you. My dad bought her a beautiful ring set with diamonds and sapphires for Christmas in 2016. We had a wonderful day with the whole family, and as we were clearing up after lunch, my mum came rushing into the kitchen with a very worried look on her face. The ring was no longer on her finger.

While Dad and my sons sat chatting, myself, Mum, sisters, and nieces all surreptitiously tore the house apart looking for the ring. We pulled ripped wrapping paper from bin bags, ferreted down the sides of sofas and chairs, checked beneath carpets, tables and cupboards, looked in bathrooms, bedrooms, and all over the kitchen, all the while trying not to look like we were looking for anything. All seemed lost, until seconds before someone was about to empty it, we realised no-one had checked inside the kitchen bin.

It was stuffed full of the remains of our Christmas dinner and I can’t remember who had the delightful job of searching, but there, nestled amongst the yucky debris, was Mum’s precious ring. I don’t think I have ever seen a look of such relief on anyone’s face as that of my mum when we found it.

And my dad, who had spent a small fortune on it, was never any the wiser.

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 5th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 3rd June 2024.

A night to remember

The interesting bricks on a property i visited near Chop Gate caught me eye

The bricks had zigzag marks on them which reader Linda Harman says were created by the tools used to make them

I have had a pleasing update following my appeal for help to find out more about King Henry’s Night. I had been contacted about a year ago by Linda Chambers from the Rosedale History Archive asking if could find anything out about it after an elderly gentleman had told her about the custom that centred around young people going out on a particular night and meeting up with likely suitors. Try as I might, I could find no reference to it in my usual trusty sources, such as my dad’s study, his books and the National Newspaper Archive.

However, Linda herself read my piece and got back in touch saying: “I happened to be at Ryedale Folk Museum last week to look at their exhibition ‘Believe It Or Not’ which highlights the folk traditions and witchcraft which were once very much part of moors life. I happened to see a panel which described The Kissing Ring, a charming old tradition where young people gathered outside late on a summer’s evening. It is believed this was last performed in Rudland in the 1930s when 40 young men and women held hands and danced in a ring singing the words which I have attached. The circle gradually diminished as couples broke away with a chosen partner and the young man would walk the girl home. I think we have the answer to King Henry’s Night!”

And having read the words to the ditty, I think Linda must be correct. They are as follows:

‘King Henry was King James’s son

And all the royal races ran

Upon his heart he wears a star

Right away to the ocean far

So choose to the East

And choose to the West

And choose the one that you love the best

If he’s not there to take her part

Choose another with all your heart.’

So it is likely those who took part in The Kissing Ring would have referred to the occasion as ‘King Henry’s Night’ thanks to the words of the song they would sing.

Linda adds: “While I was there, I bought the booklet, published by the Esk Valley News, which adds detail to what is seen in the exhibition – an excellent read, and I recommend the exhibition to anyone interested in our local folklore. It is so easy to lose sight of local traditions and stories, many of which must now be forgotten.”

It’s true that if we did not have places like the Ryedale Folk Museum, or indeed columns like this discussing old traditions and folklore, then such things will be lost. We should all support local museums and local newspapers in a world that seems to be being taken over by technology. Nothing can compete with real people telling us about real memories, because once they are gone it will be too late.

On the subject of preserving local history and traditions, I had the pleasure recently of travelling to a house up near Chop Gate for work. It was a beautiful old farmhouse that commanded glorious views south across the valley towards Bilsdale.

It was built in the early 1800s out of large stones in varying shades of sand and gold. But what caught my eye were the distinctive markings. They looked like they had been carved with a repeating arrow pattern, a little bit like the skeleton of a feather or a fish. Every stone carried this pattern, and it was as if they had been painstakingly hand-sculpted to create a beautiful effect, and one I believe is peculiar to this part of the world.

I know the pattern was not created by some frustrated sculptor working as a bricklayer, but that it is more to do with the way the bricks were made, thanks to friend Linda Harman who explained: “They cut the clay brick shape then take excess clay off with a brush which makes that pattern.” And Irene Sykes, who lives on the North York Moors, adds: “I think local quarries were excavating different types of stone and so they dressed the stone they excavated using different methods.”

Do you know any more about how these stones were made, and the local quarries they came from? Perhaps you had a relative who was a stone mason. Do get in touch as I’d love to know more!

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 28th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 26th June 2024.

Very hungry caterpillars

The box tree caterpillar can decimate a tree within days

They are very hard to control. These were found in the green waste bin some time after the tree had been chopped up and put in there

I popped in to see my friend Jane the other day and we sat on her terrace overlooking her beautiful garden. She spends hours making sure it is gorgeous, full of healthy-looking shrubs and flowering plants, but she said she had suffered somewhat of a tragedy over recent days. A shrub that she had planted more than 10 years ago seemed to die overnight.

She couldn’t recall its name but said: “It was beautiful with variegated green and yellow leaves, and one day it was fine, and the next it was completely dead!”

Jane had noticed in the days running up to its mysterious demise that it was covered in what looked like cobwebs, and then when it had died and she looked closer, she realised it was infested with caterpillars.

With the help of her husband, they dug up the sad tree, chopped it up and disposed of it in her green waste bin, at the same time as picking off and exterminating as many caterpillars as they could find. They both love animals and nature and weren’t happy at permanently getting rid of the creatures but reasoned that if they can destroy a whole shrub overnight, they cannot be a good thing to have in your garden. Sentimentality went out of the window.

I asked what the caterpillars looked like, and wondered which butterfly or moth they would eventually turn into. Jane showed me her bin with the remains of the brown and withered shrub and there were dozens of the critters still crawling around it. The caterpillars were a couple of inches long with green and black stripes and a black head, and clearly, they hadn’t managed to capture all of them.

Well, this is the kind of murder mystery that the Countryman’s Daughter thrives upon, and as soon as I got back home, I donned my detective hat and set to work. It took me a good minute of eager Googling to crack the case wide open.

Jane’s plant had been slaughtered by the Box Tree Strangler – I mean Caterpillar.

The Box Tree Caterpillar, which is active during spring and summer, is an invasive species that the RHS says is becoming one of the most common problems in British gardens. It predicts that 2024 will be a bumper year, with five times as many cases reported in the first four months of this year than last. This very hungry caterpillar stowed away on plants imported from east Asia in 2007, although the first moth found in a private garden was not reported until 2011. It quickly became a significant problem in the south east, and steadily began to make its way north, unfortunately landing in Jane’s garden this week.

The box tree is a common sight across the land, often being clipped into geometric shapes or animals by those fond of topiary. If you’ve been to places like Castle Howard, Broughton Hall or Beningbrough Hall, then you’ll have seen some fine examples. But if you have some in your own garden, you need to start regularly inspecting it for this particular critter. If you shake your box tree and moths fly out, then that’s a sure indicator they are laying eggs, so you need to get on the case pronto. The moth (Cydalima perspectalis) has white wings with brown borders, or sometimes is brown all over, and lays its eggs on the underside of box leaves. The eggs are flat and yellow and overlay each other, a bit like tiny fish scales. Initially, the problem can look like box blight, a fungal disease, but a tell-tale sign is the web-like substance that can appear all over the tree. The caterpillars weave this over their feeding area, and once you see that, they can decimate a whole tree within days.

Thankfully, they are only interested in the box tree, so a sure way of keeping them away is to not keep any in your garden. Even when a tree or hedge looks dead, though, it can be rescued with effort and persistence and there is lots of advice online. If you discover it, then you should report it (again online is the place to go to find out how).

One last question – if box tree caterpillars destroyed all the box in the land, would they die out or simply change their diet?

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 7th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 5th June 2024.

Finding a silver lining

I now have a Silveroid teapot stand thanks to a clear out at my mum’s house

The stamp on the bottom reads ‘National Products England’ and ‘National Silveroid’

A couple of challenges for you this week which will hopefully prove that real people can still be more useful for factual information than the seemingly omniscient internet.

Just over a year ago I was invited to give a talk at Rosedale Reading Room and while there Linda Chambers from the Rosedale History Archive asked me if I could find out anything about King Henry’s Night. “I was told about this some years back by an elderly gentleman (now dead) who lived at Thorgill, just along the dale side,” she wrote. “It apparently centred around young people going out on a particular night and meeting up with likely suitors. Not sure what their parents thought but no doubt it was eagerly anticipated!”

I had a look in my dad’s collection of cuttings and files but could not find anything labelled King Henry’s Night. I also looked in a few of his books, Folk Tales from the North York Moors, Folk Stories from the Yorkshire Dales and Yorkshire Days, but again nothing. He did write about occasions where young men and women would go out and perform certain charms and spells in the hope of attracting suitors, but I don’t recall him ever mentioning King Henry’s Night.

I then resorted to that most useful source of miscellaneous information, the British Newspaper Archive, but again, came up empty handed. So, I’m turning to you, dear readers, in the hope that one of you can explain exactly what it is. Perhaps you went out yourself on King Henry’s Night and found your one and only?

The second mystery might be more straightforward to solve. We were having a clear out at my mum’s house when I came across what looked like an old pewter teapot stand that had been abandoned on a windowsill for years. I asked Mum if I could have it. As regular readers know, I drink tea using a proper pot, and a recurring conundrum is how to avoid it scalding whatever surface I place it upon. Now I need worry no more!

Mum couldn’t remember how she came by it, but it was either used at home when she was young or picked up at a jumble sale. There is a stamp on the reverse labelled ‘National Products England’ and ‘National Silveroid’. It brought to mind the war effort and the ‘National Loaf’, but it turns out Silveroid appeared much earlier than that.

The stand looks a bit like pewter, which is an alloy consisting mostly of tin mixed with small amounts of other metals such as copper, lead or antimony. It has been used for making household items since Roman times and in the 17th and 18th centuries it would have been found in every household in the form of plates, cutlery, cups, jugs, buttons and the like.

Pewter was rather soft and prone to dents, and in the late 19th century, Silveroid started to appear. It was far more durable and yet mimicked the stylish look of pewter along with the shine of silver. It was patented in the USA where it was often used for watch cases. I did find a few references to it in the newspaper archive, the earliest of which appeared in the Daily Gazette in September 1878 and read: ‘Silveroid is the name of a new metal which has just been introduced in America in the manufacture of tableware. It has a fine texture, is susceptible of a high finish, and can be supplied at much less cost than anything heretofore used as a substitute for real silver.’

I also found the exact same paragraph in a number of other newspapers in subsequent years, so I did wonder how long it had to be around for it to be no longer considered ‘new’.

Six years later in 1884, there were adverts extolling the benefits of the product, but they now tell us that Silveroid is ‘the cheapest substitute for silver yet introduced, which being of a uniform white colour throughout, renders Nickel or Silver Plating quite unnecessary. This Metal is specially adapted for Steamship Fittings, Railway Carriage Furniture, and Art Metal Work. Specimens and price on application.’

So what do you know about Silveroid, what happened to it, and what are ‘National Products England’? Do get in touch via the usual channels!

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 7th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 5th June 2024.

Band on the hand

Wedding bands date back to Egyptian times

Reaction to my column featuring Australian reader Sarah Tyson’s suggestion of composting dog waste was almost universally one of revulsion. There were expressions of fear about salmonella and e-coli being present in the compost, concerns about lingering unpleasant

odours and a general aversion to handling something that has come from a dog’s back end.

Despite these worries, Sarah assures us there is no smell once it decomposes (don’t forget is is mixed with 50% vegetable scraps), and that it quickly breaks down into an environmentally friendly natural compost. But it is recommended that the site is positioned well away from your regular compost heap. Another reader (also called Sarah) advises that it would be fine to put over flowers and other garden plants but that it shouldn’t be used on edibles destined for the table. She adds: “I can’t say it appeals to me, but apparently if it’s broken down properly it doesn’t smell. I won’t be experimenting though.”

There are plenty of people out there who do it, and lots of help can be found online. It is not recommended that you use waste from dogs who are ill, take medication, or that are fed on a raw meat diet. Although the compost should not be used on edible plants, it is very good as a mulch and also can improve the quality of nutrient-deficient soil. I would recommend reading up on it before giving it a go.

Let’s move on from dog waste to a more pleasant topic suggested by regular reader Clare Powell, that of wedding rings.

“Why do we wear them?” she asks, “Where does the tradition come from? Some feminists refuse to wear them because it’s seen as a chain. When did men start wearing them? Some men won’t wear them, they think it threatens their masculinity, or are they keeping their options open? I have girlfriends who don’t always have theirs on or swap them around. I happen to have four rings on that finger, but that’s because I love bling!”

The tradition of wedding rings can be traced back 5,000 years to the ancient Egyptians, where both men and women wore twisted rings of braided reeds or hemp on their fingers to symbolise the romantic commitment to one another. The 2nd century Greek historian Appian of Alexandria is supposed to have described a vein that ran down the finger directly to the heart called the ‘vena amoris’ or ‘vein of love’. Wearing a ring on that finger meant that a couple’s love for one another was bound by the never-ending circle.

Having done some research, it’s unclear whether Appian actually did mention that vein, but there is no doubt that Henry Swinburne, a 17th century York-born ecclesiastical lawyer, did.

In his work ‘A Treatise of Spousals, or Matrimonial Contracts’ published in 1686 he wrote: “The finger on which the wedding ring is to be worn is the fourth finger of the left hand, next unto the little finger, because by the received opinion of the learned in ripping up and anatomising men’s bodies, there is a vein of blood, called vena amoris, which passeth from that finger to the heart.”

Unfortunately, despite how fitting and romantic it all sounds (apart from the ‘ripping up and anatomising’ bit), Swinburne was talking utter claptrap. There is no such vein, and all the veins in our hands are pretty much the same, with no unique heart-bound one.

What is interesting though, is that he says the ring should be worn on the left hand. Swinburne was a staunch Anglican, and in 1593 began to work for the Dean of York Minster. This was a mere 50 years or so after the Reformation where Anglicism became the state religion and Catholics were persecuted. The Church of England established its ‘Book of Common Prayer’ in which it stated that a wedding ring had to be worn on the left hand. Up until then, in most other religions throughout Europe including Catholicism, wedding bands were worn on the right hand. In England, if you were caught with your ring on the right, you would be identified as a Catholic, accused of treason and possibly executed.

I was married to a Dutchman for 20 years and had always wondered why in the Netherlands they wore wedding rings on the right and not left hand.

And now I know!

I’d love to hear from you about your opinions, memories and ideas for columns. Use the ‘Contact’ button on the top right of this page to get in touch. This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 7th and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 5th June 2024.