Comments on: A London Herbal

By: Lynne Perrella

Lynne Perrella — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 12:57:41 +0000

I am a sucker for words and specialized terminology. When I first came upon the term “stillroom book” I found myself going down a rabbit hole. ( Well, actually, “book” is enough to get me enthralled, every time.) So, beginning with the unknown-to-me-but-intriguing word “stillroom” I investigated and learned that books containing specialized salves, balms, curatives, and other bits of folk knowledge would remain WITH the house. A stillroom book. Each successive inhabitant (presumably, the current lady of the house ?) added to the collective log of wisdom. Now, mind you, I have not been able to find a visual of a stillroom book but in my mind I imagine what such a volume might look like. I see a worn-but-stalwart portfolio, consisting of book boards tied with linen strands. Someone has tooled the name of the house on the cover, but the letters are no longer crisp. Inside! — Sheaves of various papers, written by various “hands” are gathered. Some of the writing has faded. Some of the pages are too
brittle to handle. The notations look like recipes or lists. Subsequent residents of the house have notated additions or comments on the old pages, adding to the collective knowledge.
Long ago, cuttings from the gardens were tucked inside, and “ghosts” of their imprints remain on the pages; and the book itself has a peculiar fragrance, a combination of mustiness and sage.
A volume, a relic, a personal history of a house, a stillroom book.

By: Jennifer Newbold

Jennifer Newbold — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 12:40:34 +0000

Thank you for this. I am fascinated by the ways we used to take care of people in the days before paracetamol, hydrocortisone, and omeprazole; I’ve even done trials of some more obscure herbal remedies, although Venetian treacle, with all of its components, needs a degree from the Royal College of Physicians to compound! (And I believe that one of the ingredients is adder fat, and I draw the line at rendering adders.)

Still, at the end of the day, I prefer -ols, -ones, and -ions at Boots to Friars’ Balsam or opeldeldoc!

Liz, Pontefract sounds like a destination I need to plan to visit on my next trip north!

By: Marcia Howard

Marcia Howard — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 11:33:52 +0000

I remember being able to buy a liqourice root from our little corner shop when growing up in the early 1950s. It was like chewing on a piece of wood, and think we paid 1 penny a stick. Loved liqourice sweets too later, especially the one in a sherbet dip, as they made our tongues go black!

By: Caroline Murray

Caroline Murray — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 10:24:40 +0000

Margaret Willes’ books on London gardens are all superb!

By: Eve

Eve — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 10:13:55 +0000

Holborn c.1500 must have smelled sweeter at times when the wind caught these herbal aromas & spread them about – in contrast to the overpowering horse dung & rotting garbage .. delightful!

By: Liz Gilbey

Liz Gilbey — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 08:58:16 +0000

Full of fascinating facts, thank you. Liquorice was the standby in Yorkshire, with Pontefract cakes still a popular confectionary, also known by the old name, Pomfret. These traditional goodies still carry the Pomfret seal on each one.
There is a fascinating history, and even old songs and a poem by John Betjeman.
These days sweet making in Pontefract, which has a wonderful tiled Art Nouveau decoration, is down to Harbour. The aroma drifts over the town, and experts can recognise which sweeties are being made at any given ‘boiling by the subtle but telling differences. Pontefract is worth a visit, has a fascinating history that goes from haunted Castle to Shakespeare, pressed glass production, the liquorice industry and the only surviving mile circuit racecourse.

By: Mathilde Grange

Mathilde Grange — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 08:50:08 +0000

Lovely. I’ve got several in my garden, missing the liquorice.

By: ANDY STROWMAN

ANDY STROWMAN — Tue, 03 Jun 2025 06:44:45 +0000

Beautiful