Prof. Dr. Otto Wilhelm Thomé Flora von Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz 1885, Gera, Germany The Chelsea Flower Show is on our TV screens again and I always enjoy seeing the clever garden designs and wonderful plants that have been so carefully planned and nurtured for the event. However, the other day, as I wrestled with the rampant weeds in my own garden and tried to pull up the buttercups that have suddenly appeared from nowhere, I was reminded of a wonderful experience from my childhood. I was walking the dog in the fields surrounding the village when I opened the gate into a meadow that I rarely visited. This meadow had clearly been ‘neglected’ by the farmer for a long time (perhaps deliberately) and, as a result, all the native pasture plants had taken hold again. On this particular day, in the sunshine, it was an absolute delight as all the plants seemed to have come into flower at the same time. There were cowslips, buttercups, daisies, purple orchids, clover, vetches and birdsfoot trefoil, to name just a few. Everywhere I looked there was another species, the meadow was buzzing with insects, birds were singing in the hedgerows and the warm sun was highlighting the colours and shapes of the wild flowers. I wanted to stay there forever. No-one had planted this meadow, no-one had tended it, primped and preened it for show, weeded it or fed it and yet it was more beautiful than any garden I have ever seen at Chelsea. As I remembered this walk through the wild flowers I suddenly had the urge to down tools and leave my garden to its own devices. Sadly, though, it would probably be the bramble that lurks beneath the pyracantha and the ivy on the wall that would take over, and not a gorgeous array of wild meadow flowers.
I am not the only one to appreciate the cowslip blooming in May in its natural habitat. Now that spring has arrived at The Cottage Farm, work begins in earnest. However, the author still has time to appreciate the meadow flowers:
Harrowing and rolling take place this year right upon blossoming time, for the grass is still short. Late harrowing enables us to distribute more wormcasts and molehills, and leading the horse round the borders of the meadow, primroses, dog-violets, cowslips, and what Snowey calls “barnicated winkle” (which is his name for the variegated periwinkle) greet us in full blossom.
As promised in last month’s blog post on primroses, here is some information on the making of cowslip balls, as mentioned in Alison Uttley’s Little Grey Rabbit books.
I am not the only one to appreciate the cowslip blooming in May in its natural habitat. Now that spring has arrived at The Cottage Farm, work begins in earnest. However, the author still has time to appreciate the meadow flowers:
Harrowing and rolling take place this year right upon blossoming time, for the grass is still short. Late harrowing enables us to distribute more wormcasts and molehills, and leading the horse round the borders of the meadow, primroses, dog-violets, cowslips, and what Snowey calls “barnicated winkle” (which is his name for the variegated periwinkle) greet us in full blossom.
As promised in last month’s blog post on primroses, here is some information on the making of cowslip balls, as mentioned in Alison Uttley’s Little Grey Rabbit books.
Cowslip balls are made by tying the flowers together on a string and then winding the string into a ball. Another method is to make a ball from dried grass and then push the flower heads into the grass to make a ball of flowers. Cowslip balls are also known as ‘tossies’ or ‘tosties’ and were made in many parts of the country – from Wales and Gloucestershire in the West to Cambridgeshire in the East. They were then tossed about while singing an accompanying rhyme (the rhyme varies from county to county).
Also as described in our previous blog post on primroses, Little Grey Rabbit was a busy brewer and made a lot of wine, including cowslip wine. Still, she could claim that she made it for the medicinal benefits as cowslips are noted as helpful for rheumatism, palsy and nervous troubles, as well as being a sedative and therefore good for insomnia. Little Grey Rabbit might also have used the cowslips as a cosmetic treatment for spots, wrinkles, sunburn and freckles (though I am not sure grey rabbits suffer from wrinkles and freckles!).
Our book, Mrs Beeton’s Jam-making and Preserves includes a recipe for Cowslip Wine, as follows:
Procure 4 quarts of cowslip flowers, 4 quarts of water, 3 lb. of loaf sugar, the finely-grated rind and juice of 1 orange and 1 lemon, 2 tablespoonfuls of brewers’ yeast, or ¼ of an oz. of compressed yeast moistened with water and ¼ of a pint of brandy, if liked.
Boil the sugar and water together for about ½ an hour, skimming when necessary, and pour, quite boiling, over the rinds and strained juice of the orange and lemon. Let it cool, then stir in the yeast and cowslip flowers, cover with a cloth, and allow it to remain undisturbed for 48 hours. Turn the whole into a clean dry cask, add the brandy, bung closely, let it remain thus for 8 weeks, then draw it off into bottles. Cork securely, store in a cool, dry place for 3 or 4 weeks, and it will then be ready for use.
Cowslip wine is pretty potent on its own (it supposedly has narcotic properties) so Mrs Beeton’s habit of slipping in a ¼ of a pint of brandy to many of her wine recipes will make this a powerful brew!
Also as described in our previous blog post on primroses, Little Grey Rabbit was a busy brewer and made a lot of wine, including cowslip wine. Still, she could claim that she made it for the medicinal benefits as cowslips are noted as helpful for rheumatism, palsy and nervous troubles, as well as being a sedative and therefore good for insomnia. Little Grey Rabbit might also have used the cowslips as a cosmetic treatment for spots, wrinkles, sunburn and freckles (though I am not sure grey rabbits suffer from wrinkles and freckles!).
Our book, Mrs Beeton’s Jam-making and Preserves includes a recipe for Cowslip Wine, as follows:
Procure 4 quarts of cowslip flowers, 4 quarts of water, 3 lb. of loaf sugar, the finely-grated rind and juice of 1 orange and 1 lemon, 2 tablespoonfuls of brewers’ yeast, or ¼ of an oz. of compressed yeast moistened with water and ¼ of a pint of brandy, if liked.
Boil the sugar and water together for about ½ an hour, skimming when necessary, and pour, quite boiling, over the rinds and strained juice of the orange and lemon. Let it cool, then stir in the yeast and cowslip flowers, cover with a cloth, and allow it to remain undisturbed for 48 hours. Turn the whole into a clean dry cask, add the brandy, bung closely, let it remain thus for 8 weeks, then draw it off into bottles. Cork securely, store in a cool, dry place for 3 or 4 weeks, and it will then be ready for use.
Cowslip wine is pretty potent on its own (it supposedly has narcotic properties) so Mrs Beeton’s habit of slipping in a ¼ of a pint of brandy to many of her wine recipes will make this a powerful brew!
Cowslips were also made into cordials and cowslip ale. Indeed, Beatrix Potter has an illustration of Cecily Parsley making cowslip ale in her book Cecily Parsley’s Nursery Rhymes (see above). Diana Astry (1671 – 1716) provides us with the following recipe for cowslip ale:
Add a peck of cowslip pips (the pips or peeps are the yellow flower petals) to a ‘kinterkin’ of ordinary ale after it has finished working. Stop it up and leave for 2 or 3 weeks.
A peck is the equivalent of 16 ‘dry’ pints and a kinterkin is a cask of ale (16-18 gallons) like the one in the Beatrix Potter illustration. So a peck is an awful lot of cowslip flowers. Sadly, cowslips are increasingly rare (hardly surprising given the making of cowslip balls, cowslip wine and cowslip ale, but also due to a loss of habitat). Therefore, I do not advise picking a peck of cowslips from the wild. On the other hand, there are lots of reasons to plant native cowslips in your garden. The internet abounds with information on the medicinal and culinary uses of cowslips and, of course, they are beautiful, as this lovely photograph shows.
Add a peck of cowslip pips (the pips or peeps are the yellow flower petals) to a ‘kinterkin’ of ordinary ale after it has finished working. Stop it up and leave for 2 or 3 weeks.
A peck is the equivalent of 16 ‘dry’ pints and a kinterkin is a cask of ale (16-18 gallons) like the one in the Beatrix Potter illustration. So a peck is an awful lot of cowslip flowers. Sadly, cowslips are increasingly rare (hardly surprising given the making of cowslip balls, cowslip wine and cowslip ale, but also due to a loss of habitat). Therefore, I do not advise picking a peck of cowslips from the wild. On the other hand, there are lots of reasons to plant native cowslips in your garden. The internet abounds with information on the medicinal and culinary uses of cowslips and, of course, they are beautiful, as this lovely photograph shows.
Photograph by James Broadbent (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
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