Victorian Photography

 

A Ferny Book Leads to Squirreling

 As I research original sources from the 19th century, I find myself curious about little tidbits I might find. If I see an advertisement or a letter with an address, I will hop over to Google Maps and look it up. Bonus if there's a street view! Here's a recent example:

Note the ferns on the cover!

And, this got my attention; a name and address!

Ethel Kershaw, Radcliff House, Pudsey

Who was she?  Lookit! I found her in a 1911 census!

Ethel May Kershaw, only daughter of Hugh, 50 & Eleanor Mary, 42. They've been married 17 years. Hugh is a "medical practitioner."  Who else is living in the house?

The Hyland family: 

Samuel, aged 70, retired cashier & Eleanor, aged 59; married 31 years  

Only son/ child, Frederick Hunter Hyland, aged 19 and in medical school. 

Servants: 

Annie Dales, 58, general domestic servant. Single.

Marie Roze Buxton, 19, the cook. Single. 

Boarder:

Charles Suffield Brown, 24, medical student. Single.

What can we surmise about this household?

They only had 2 servants, so they were not regarded as wealthy. They have two young men who are medical students, which leads me to believe that Dr. Kershaw was a teacher at the local school or a mentor of sorts. 

 

What about the relationships of the Hylands and Kershaws?

It's possible that Eleanor Hyland & Eleanor Mary Kershaw were sisters. It seems strange to us that they would have the same first name, but this was common practice to name daughters after their mothers. E.g. Marie Antoinette's sisters were all Maria Something. They were then called by their middle names or a nickname by their families. Just the name Elizabeth could become Lizzie, Eliza, Bess, Beth, etc. etc. allowing for all the daughters to be named after their mother Elizabeth.   

Back to Ethel, who started this whole thing! What can we gather about this young girl?  Either she was interested in drawing or this was a textbook. It was published in 1878.

There are questions in the back which suggests this was a class she took or a book someone lent her because she had an interest in drawing:

But what about Radcliffe House in Pudsey?  Was it a grand estate? Is it still there?  I searched for Radcliffe House, Pudsey, England on Google Maps.  YES!  It's still there. And . . . it's a mental healthcare facility now. You'll be able to see some disappointing photos of the exterior and interior of the house. The current decor has wiped out original architectural features and the character the house would have had originally. 

 

If you click on Street View (Upper left corner of the screen) you're facing a row of back yards. What pretty gardens everyone has!  Turn around clockwise, and you'll get a view of the side of Radcliffe House. Those trees (or shrubs?) must be very old. In front of the hedge are rocks all along the lane, which could have once been a garden wall. 

Keep going clock wise and follow the lane of Radcliffe Gardens and you'll see a sign for the house. There's no really good view of the whole house from Google Maps. Here's a view from Radcliffe Lane. It's a fun little jaunt around the block, tho.

Further research :

*History of Radcliffe House

*Old maps of Pudsey

*What exactly was a "retired cashier" in 1911?  Accountant?  

*What happened to the medical students? 

*What happened to Ethel?  Did she marry? Have a family? Stay at Radcliffe?  

But this is where I need to stop. Seriously. If I were researching family history, or working on a project specifically for this, or getting paid for my infernal curiosity, then I would continue. But I will end it there and leave you with a coupla ferny illustrations:

2022 Planner, Journals, & Notebooks Line-up

 My first video in a very long time!  With a brief update at the end of the video: 

The Fernery

Now I am hesitating to post this, because it's not a Fernie's World story!  But I wanted to share some photos I took at a local university greenhouse. I'll spare you the PROPER botanical names--mostly so I don't have to look them up right now! So without further ado, behold!  I give you ferns!

Spores on the underside. 

And a coupla non-ferns:

Rubber tree plant. It was because of Wardian cases that rubber became abundant in the
British Empire. It's also what helped to win WWII; all thanks to Dr. Nathanial Bagshaw Ward.

 Orchids:

Fernie's World, Chapter 7: Special Delivery

Illustration from On The Growth of Plants in Closely Glazed Cases, 
by Nathaniel Bagshaw Ward.

CHAPTER 7: Special Delivery

“Fernie!  Fernie!” Papa called in wild excitement. “There is a delivery for you!” Fernie came running down the hallway before she reminded herself she must not run indoors like a galloping horse—as Papa had just done. She met him in the back of the house, outdoors. “What is it, Papa?”

“See for yourself,” he replied. “It is from Mr. Ward. Can you not guess what it might be?”

Fernie could not contain her exuberance as she gazed at the large crate before her. “Oh, Papa!” she exclaimed. “Is it one of his cases?!”

Papa opened the crate to reveal that it was indeed a Wardian case; one of the first.

Mama came to see about what all the fuss was.

“Oh, Mama!” cried Fernie. “Look what Mr. Ward has sent us all the way from London!”

Mama eyed it with less enthusiasm. She knew it must be plant-related and it appeared by all accounts to be one of those giant cases that Mrs. Ward had related to her in their correspondences. Mrs. Ward did not seem to mind as much, even though these cases were taking up every square inch of the Ward household. Was the FitzWilliam house to be invaded next? Mama consoled herself with the thought that since they were in the country, perhaps there was room for it outside. Surely it would not have to be kept in the house as it would be in town?

“I think this shall fit very nicely in the drawing room,” suggested Papa.

“Oh, now MISTER  FitzWilliam, not the drawing room!”  she said emphatically. This was too much to be born. For, what would the ladies say at her next tea?!

 “Where do you propose, then?” he asked, more mildly.  He knew she was rightly vexed when she addressed him thusly with an emphasis on “Mister.”

Fernie watched this exchange doing her best not to speak out of turn, for it was a time when children did not speak so freely with their elders. She knew the case should come inside and be placed in an advantageous area--for that was its purpose. It must come in the house. It must!

“Perhaps in your library,” suggested Mama. “For then you may monitor it daily.”

“Well, that is a thought,” agreed Papa. He looked at Fernie, who was practically dancing in wild anticipation. “What say you, Fanny?”  They both knew this placated Mrs. FitzWilliam when he used her proper name.

Finally! Now it was her turn to speak!  “Could we not transport it to my bed chamber?” Fernie asked tentively.

“Yes!  YES!”  cried Mama with such a violent enthusiasm as to startle Papa. “Of course! That is the perfect place for it. For then Fanny shall have access to it as often as need be!”

Papa smiled. “My dearest Mrs. FitzWilliam, I am happy at your wise suggestion. That is a much better course of action than for it to be in your drawing room.” He turned to the footmen and requested that it be taken to Fernie’s bed chamber.

Fernie regarded her father and mother with wonderment. They were both smiling with satisfaction; Mama because she had prevented this monstrosity from being housed in her drawing room, and Papa because he had successfully brought it into the house with Mama in agreement. Fernie marveled at such a negotiation and smiled, too. Her own Wardian case!

These are later versions of the variety of Wardian cases.
Fernie's would not have looks so elegant! (Image from Wikipedia)

Click here for some BEAUTIFUL Wardian case illustrations from Nik The Booksmith!

Chapter 5: A New Neighbour Brings A Time Peace

CHAPTER 5: A New Neighbour Brings A Time Peace

“Hullo!” came a voice behind Fernie, disrupting her reverie. She turned to see a boy about her age.

“Hullo,” she said.

“What are you doing?” he enquired, walking toward her. Well, skipping more than walking, with gangly arms swinging to and fro.

“I’m studying the fronds on these ferns.”

“Fronds?” he said, grinning. “That is my name!”

Fernie giggled. “Your name is Fronds?” 

“No,” he corrected himself. “I mean, Fronde is my surname. So my family is ‘The Frondes.’  But our family is originally from France and most people mispronounce our name as ‘FRAND, or sometime FRAND-EE. Then my mother started saying ‘Frande’ with the accent on the D, but then people started saying FROND-AH, but it is properly pronounced FROND,” he explained in a rat-a-tat way. “I am Edward,” he said almost as an afterthought, and made a polite bow.

“I’m Fer…” she began, but corrected herself. “I am Fanny FitzWilliam.”

“Oh!” exclaimed he. “We shall be great friends!  My father is to teach at university with your father.”

Fernie smiled shyly to herself. Could it be? Could they be friends?  But she asked, “Your surname is truly ‘Fronde?’”

“Yes,” Edward nodded in animation.

Fernie was curious, in spite of her shyness of meeting this new person. “Do you know what a real frond is?”

“I dunno,” he said, picking up a stick and tossing it into the brook.

“It’s one of these,” she said, crouching by a collection of ferns. “Did your father not teach you of fronds?”  

 

In the 1800's, "frond" was a term specific to ferns. It has since
evolved to mean any fern-like palmate, feather-looking leaf
structure with leaves that branch off from the main stem. A
new, unfurled frond is also called a "fiddle head." 

“Father has been away in India and we were staying with Granny but then Father came back from India and now we are all moved here.” He spoke very fast and swung his arms as he talked and then leapt over to Fernie and bounced down onto his stomach to gaze at the fronds. “Are these fronds?”

Fernie smiled. “Yes.”

“Well,” said he.

“Well,” said she.

And then they both looked at each other and smiled.

He looked at the fronds and then at her and said, “I am still rather uncertain as to what fronds are. I do not see how they are at all different from leaves. For are they not leaves such as we have on other plants?”

Fernie nodded. “Yes, they are the leaves specific to ferns. Fern leaves are called fronds. For you see,” as she pointed to the stalk and traced outward with the feathery leaves, "The leaves extend from the stalk. And sometimes, other leaves extend from there. The structure can be very intricate." 

Fern images courtesy of Pixabay

Edward looked up at the trees and around him and thought about this. He grinned. “I gather I would not talk about the fronds of a chestnut tree, then.”

Fernie grinned back. Did he not know of ferns at all?  How was this that he had not learnt anything botanical from his own father. But then, she supposed that if Papa had been away in India, she would not have had the advantage of knowing about fronds, either. Even if it were her last name.  Then she laughed anew. That would be very humourous indeed!  Fernie Frond.

He laughed with her and said, “What is so amusing?”

Did she dare tell him?  She looked at his grinning face and said, “My own father calls me Fernie because I love ferns so much.”

Edward laughed even more. “I understand why you laughed at my name! What a fine joke for you!” and he leapt up. “And now for me! We shall have such good fun in other company. For I would suspect that no one else knows what a frond is.”

“Indeed,” Fernie affirmed.

Fernie looked at the sunlight overhead and surmised that it was close to noon. She sighed and pulled out her timepiece. It was no use. It was not noon, but she could not tell what the hour was. However, she did know that when the sun was at such an angle as it was, it was most certainly time to make her way back home.

Edward looked at her looking at the pocket watch. “Father says I mayn’t have my own timepiece until I can tell time. I am well-impressed that you can tell time!” 

Fernie blushed and looked down.

Edward looked at her face with realization and said, “You are still learning! How wonderful for you that your own father gave you a timepiece with which to practice! For how may I practice with no timepiece?" he declared in wild gesticulation.  That is what I asked Father, but he did not see my reasoning.”  Then he grinned anew.

Fernie looked at Edward. He did not seem to be bothered by his circumstances at all. And he had somehow described her own circumstances as much more advantageous than she felt them to be.

She said, “I must go home now for Mama will be asking for me. Would you like to go back with me?”

“Yes, let us make haste and. . . frond at once, Fernie!” said Edward, and he ran ahead of her down the path. Fernie laughed. He was very quick in both understanding and movement. She had a new friend. She gathered up her collections into her satchel and began down the path. Edward had stopped a little ways ahead to wait for her.

Edward Fronde. Fronde!  Of course they would be friends—or as Edward was to say later, they were great fronds.

Chapter 4: Timepiece

Read-aloud version of this chapter.   

Playlist of the whole Fernie's World series.


Fernie made her way down the back path to the Northern part of the estate. The sun was a bit higher and brighter now, but it was yet early. She would have ample time to explore and collect and draw her finds.

She often thought she would have ample time, only to discover that it felt as if there was never enough time! She could lose herself for hours and then find herself late to tea, with an admonishment from Mama. Papa had given her one of his pocket watches, but she had not yet mastered the telling of time beyond being able to tell if it were noon. As much as William had tried to explain it to her, it was a difficult task to her. She was adept at learning all manner of difficult vocabulary, but the numbers of the clock seemed to swim in front of her. She was frustrated at this lack of comprehension on her part. Papa told her that it would make sense to her eventually. “For,” he remarked, “There was a time when you didn’t know about time or even that there was such a thing as a timepiece. Is that not so, Fernie Girl?”

Fernie had nodded. “Yes, Papa.”

“When you are ready, it shall come to you. Your m” and Papa paused and cleared his throat. “Your mind works differently, and that is how it is. I would have you be no other way than as you are, my dear girl.”

“Mama says,” Fernie began.

“Yes,” Papa had agreed. “I am familiar with your mother’s position on such topics as these. However, you possess a great many natural skills and talents and gifts that others mayn’t ever have. If you are late to telling time,” he said, striking a match for effect, “I advise you to enjoy it!” and he lit his pipe.

“Yes, Papa.”

“I rather suspect,” Papa continued, “That there are two kinds of time in some minds: Now and not now.” He looked down at his daughter.

Fernie had never thought about it before, but that was exactly how she felt!  When she was studying a fern intently, nothing else mattered. She forgot about hunger or thirst, or if she were hot or cold. She cared not for anything else. When she was drawing or painting, she was focused only on that.

“That is the main point,” he concluded. It is why,” he said, patting his pocket, “I am so diligent in the keeping of my own timepiece!”

Fernie laughed, as he knew she would. “Truly, Papa?”

Papa nodded. “Truly. And there are others like us, even if you are not yet acquainted with them.” He winked at her and gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

Fernie paused as she reached the top of the first hill. She looked down to survey her path, and took a deep breath in. How fresh it smelled! She turned and continued into the shade of woods, to find one of her favourite fern places. It was on Queens Brook, but higher up. She found a place to sit; albeit a bit cold and damp. She examined some different ferns at their beginning stages of growth, and pulled out her field notebook and her pencil.

Ferns unfurling. Photo from Pixabay.com

She spent the morning drawing different ferns and from different angles. She was careful not to collect any this early in spring, as she wanted to make sure they would grow and thrive. Papa had told her never to take all of any plant, and if there were only a few, to find more or only take one, if need be. He had told her that if she were going to study ferns, she needed to do it properly.

She pulled out her field flask and took a drink, reflecting on Papa’s teachings. “Proper” to Mama, and “Proper” to Papa had two different meanings, ‘though they were the same word!  

Papa was concerned with procedure and following directions in a correct order. “Proper” meant following the rules of Nature; seasons and weather patterns and the natural order and conditions in which all things grew.

“Proper” to Mama meant “What would the neighbours think?” 

Papa cared not for what the neighbours thought. They already thought him a bit peculiar, ‘though he didn’t seem to mind; for he had said, “Indeed, they mayn’t say it to me directly, but botany is not a science that interests everybody. However,” he had emphasized, “Those it does interest, are my truest friends.”

Fernie thought about friends, too. She counted Cook and Mrs. O’Brien as her friends, ‘though they were adults and worked. William was her friend, ‘though he was her brother. She did not have any friends who were girls or her own age, much to Mama’s dismay. She did her best to force Fernie into layers of petticoats to go visiting with her when she attended teas. But, as she overheard Mama and Papa discussing one evening, “It is as though she were in another world entirely!  Fanny’s World where she says nothing, but I surmise she must be thinking of something amusing and then laughs at her own jokes. It is unconscionable. There we were at Lady Constance’s and Fanny refused to so much as look at dear Florence!  Conversation was out of the question. And Florence was making such an effort to engage her! Why, she even asked her about ferns. But Fanny said nothing and then found something about which to be amused because she laughed so much she snorted, which was very vexing to Lady Constance, especially.”

Papa replied with, “Lady Constance was vexed, was she? Oh, dear.”

Mama continued. “Indeed! And all I could think to say was, ‘If my eyes were closed, I would think it was Frederick sitting here with us, for father and daughter have the same laugh.’ But still Lady Constance remained vexed. We left shortly thereafter. And still Fanny said nothing on the way home, in her own world, still!”

Papa had found this whole tale very amusing. “Yes,” he agreed. “She can be in her own world for a while longer. Why disrupt it? It is a wonderful world to be in.”

Mama had not replied, but Fernie understood her silence to be that of disagreement, while at the same time one of acquiescence that there would be no use in further discussion.

After that, Papa had taken to referencing “Fernie’s World,” with Fernie. 

Mama was not pleased.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The "Now, not now" time distinction comes from A.D.D. and social media expert Peter Shankman, author of Faster Than Normal* and host of The Faster Than Normal podcast. Here's a video:

Really great article about growing up "not normal," like Fernie.   

*Affiliate link

Chapter 3: Fernie's World

Chapter 3: Fernie's World

It was spring. How green everything was appearing to be!  Fernie did notice the colours of flowers and trees blooming, in the early daylight. Mama’s crocuses had already pushed through the dirt, and the daffodils were now in their full glory. She knew that most people loved the pinks and the yellows and other Spring-ish colours. But her favourite was what she called “new green.”  Her beloved ferns were the best part of that.

It was early yet. Mama was still in her room, but would be drinking her morning tea and writing her letters. She was not to be disturbed during this time, which was often most of the morning. Nurse was busy with her younger siblings in the nursery and Papa was already gone to university to teach. She loved these early mornings best when she was free to do what she wanted—which was to wander amongst the freshly springing ferns.

She went down to the kitchen and asked Cook if she would make her a meal to take with her on her morning outing. “Goin’ fer a jaunt, are ya Fernie Girl?” 

Fernie smiled. She no longer felt the sting of Florence’s words in her ears. Cook’s cheerful face and tone of voice expressed her kindness and caring. She was Fernie more and more to those whom she loved, and those who loved her. What had started as an affectionate name from Papa, had stirred its way into her home life, and rested in her heart, forever protected from Florence’s unkindness. She did not yet have the courage to say that her name was Fernie, when meeting new acquaintances. Mama would not have wanted her to say she was not Fanny, as that was her proper name. But on this morning, in the warmth of the kitchen as Cook went about her tasks, she was content. 

“Where’s that field satchel o’ yours, then?”  Cook asked, spreading a slab of  butter onto a slice of bread. “I think I’ve just enough gooseberry jam left for that bread, if ya like,” as she scraped out the jar and swiped it across the butter. She put another slice of bread on top and secured it in a beeswax sack.

“Oh, yes please!” Fernie replied and placed her satchel on the table.

“Now what else?”  Cook said. “Have yer tea, here” as she set down a cup. “And a quick bowl o’ porridge.” 

Ordinarily, Fernie would be in the dining room with all the proper accoutrements of breakfast. She liked these less formal, early-morning times just with Cook and her helpers.

The kitchen door swung open with a bang. “Oh, Bessie was giving me a time, this morning!” came a voice. It was Nellie, one of Cook’s helpers, with a pail of milk. She looked at Fernie sitting at the table. “Oh, Miss Fernie!  You’re up early!”

Cook and Fernie both nodded. “We are getting her ready for her morning outin’,” said Cook. She reached over and deftly dipped a ladle into the milk and strained it into a small pitcher. “Here ya go! Fresh from the cow!” and poured it into Fernie’s tea.

As Fernie finished her breakfast, Nellie recounted her difficulties of getting Bessie into the barn for milking. Cook stood at the stove, commenting with an occasional “Oh, dear,” as she moved pots about and added more wood to the fire and checked the oven. Then she finished packing up Fernie’s food and put it in her field satchel. “That should keep you well-fed this morn,” she said as she closed the flap. “You have yerself a good outin’, now Miss Fernie!”

Fernie took a final bit of porridge and slurped her tea as she had seen Papa do with his coffee, and then she grabbed her bag. “Thank you!” she said and she was out the kitchen door, skipping through the dew of the day. 

WELCOME to The Fern World

This is the premiere of The Fern World website and blog. What began as a we-love-ferns digi-kit has turned into a whole series. We begin with Nik The Booksmith's Much Ado About Ferns:

To read the story of Fernie's World, you can click on the tab above to follow along. Updates every Friday! 

Here's Hali's fern journal:

It is a Booksmith journal and includes the first story of Fernie's World. It is also a Traveler's Notebook and comes with:

*4 inserts/notebooks: one lined, one drawing paper, one "eco-printed" green dyed paper, and a Junk Journal insert with a combination of lined, ink-stained, fern-imprinted, ledger and music paper. Paper is all 32 lb. paper and is fountain pen/rollerball friendly.

*The first chapter of Fernie's World is included as a booklet 

*An ephemera packet: cards, fabric, lace, washi tape, music paper

*Gold fountain pen, ink cartridges & ink blotter page

To construct the journal, I combined The Adventures in Booksmithing course along with The Hollow Back Binding course. To learn how to make your own Booksmith tomes and a whole lot more, here's a link to Nik's FABULOUS online classes: Nik The Booksmith's Booksmithing courses.  Here's a link to her Nik The Booksmith YouTube channel for more tutorials and inspiration.

To learn how to make your own Traveler's Notebooks, here's a link to my Ledger & Lace Teachable classroom for a free course.

Here's a video flip-thru of the journal: 



Here's the story:

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