The Tale of Castle Cottage (35 page)

And of course, while she was dealing with all these publishing upsets and demands, there were the continued challenges of the war years, as well as epidemics of measles and influenza in the village and periods of dreadful storms, floods, and rains, which ruined harvests and caused great suffering. In June 1918, William got his call-up papers, but his age (forty-six) and a bad knee kept him at home, much to everyone’s relief.

But finally, the awful war was over. Mrs. Heelis could turn her attention to farming, to her sheep, and to the project that she and Willie had long discussed: acquiring more Lake District property in order to protect it from development. In 1924, with Willie’s legal assistance, she bought the 2,000-acre Troutbeck, the area’s most spectacular hill-farm, and five years later, the Monk Coniston Estate, some 4,000 acres of fell and tarn, with several farms and cottages. In the heart of the Lakes, Monk Coniston was a land of incomparable beauty, and the Heelises’ purchase protected it from being carved up into small parcels and used for holiday estates. Again, it was Willie who handled the legal and financial details, while Beatrix undertook the management of the far-flung property. The purchase had been made with the help and cooperation of the National Trust, which bought half the land. Beatrix and Willie kept the rest, to be deeded to the Trust upon their deaths.

In the 1920s, Beatrix produced two more books, the last of her three-decades-long career:
The Fairy Caravan
, published in America by Alexander McKay (who journeyed from Philadelphia to persuade her to do it); and
The Tale of Little Pig Robinson
, published simultaneously in America and England. But she was also busy with her own farms and especially with sheep breeding: her Herdwick ewes were acknowledged to be the best in the district. She collected pieces of fine old furniture (some of which can be seen at Hill Top) and did her best to influence local zoning boards to preserve the vernacular architecture of the area.

Beatrix’s relationship with her mother had never been comfortable or happy, and Mrs. Potter—who lived on at Lindeth How, amusing herself with needlework and canaries—seemed to become even more demanding and querulous as the years passed. She did not approve of her daughter’s love of farming, her countrified and often careless appearance, or her conservation work on behalf of the National Trust. She refused to donate any of her substantial wealth to the Trust or to any other charity, which meant that much of her estate, as Beatrix wrote to her cousin Caroline, would “simply be wasted in death duties when she has hoarded it up.” Healthy to the end of her life (in spite of being so frequently indisposed), Mrs. Potter died in 1932. She was ninety-three. To a friend, Beatrix wrote simply, “I am glad she is at rest at last.”

The last decade of Beatrix’s life was a busy and mostly happy one, with her animals, her farms, and the far-flung properties she owned and managed. She had come to terms with her age. To a friend, she wrote, “Do you not feel it is rather pleasing to be so much
wiser
than quantities of young idiots? . . . I begin to assert myself at 70.” But the late 1930s brought fear of another war and of Hitler, the “brutal, raging lunatic,” as Beatrix called him. She was soon getting out the “dark curtains, rather moth-eaten,” which she had saved from the blackout days of World War I, and stocking up on sugar and biscuits for her two “spirited and affectionate” Pekingese.

The new war brought renewed challenges. “Crops have been a struggle,” she wrote, and markets were difficult: “I had more than three tons of wool to sell.” Her gardens produced vegetables, her hutch rabbit meat, and her cows milk, so the Heelises did not go hungry. But even though she kept busy with work, she was more frequently ill and fretted about having to spend time in bed with a cough when she would rather be up and about. She was hospitalized for serious surgery in 1939, recovered and was active for several years, then fell ill again with the familiar bronchitis. In the last months of 1943, she could look out of the window of her bedroom in Castle Cottage and across the garden to Hill Top, which she still loved with all her heart.

And that is where she died, with her beloved husband at her side, on December 22, 1943. Willie died eighteen months later. And not long after that, the National Trust, honoring their stewardship, announced the Heelis Bequest of some 4,300 acres, including fifteen farms, 500 acres of woodland, cottages, and houses, and funds for maintaining them. It was a magnificent gift. Linda Lear, Beatrix’s biographer, has written of her, “Through her passionate and imaginative stewardship of the land, she challenged others to think about preservation, not just of a few farms or fells, but of a regional ecology, of a distinct farming culture, and of a particular breed of nimble-footed grey sheep.”

When she was sorting through family letters years before her own death, Beatrix wrote to a friend that all the stories of illness and dying—the subject matter of most of the letters—left the wrong impression. “The milestones are all tombstones!” she wrote. “But the record of the cheerful jog trot round of life between them is not well kept.” I hope that, as you have read through the Cottage Tales, these small stories, light and whimsical as they are, reflect something of that “cheerful jog trot” that was Beatrix Potter Heelis’ wonderful life.

 

Susan Wittig Albert
Bertram, Texas, October 2010

Resources

Denyer, Susan.
At Home with Beatrix Potter
, New York: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., 2000.

Hervye, Canon G. A. K., and J. A. G. Barnes.
Natural History of the Lake District
. London: Frederick Warne, 1970.

Lear, Linda.
A Life in Nature: The Story of Beatrix Potter.
London: Allen Lane (Penguin UK) and New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2007.

Potter, Beatrix.
Beatrix Potter’s Letters
, selected and edited by Judy Taylor. London: Frederick Warne, 1989.

Potter, Beatrix.
The Journal of Beatrix Potter, 1881–1897
, transcribed by Leslie Linder. London: Frederick Warne, New Edition, 1966.

Potter, Beatrix.
The Tale of Mr. Tod
. London: Frederick Warne, 1912.

Taylor, Judy.
Beatrix Potter: Artist, Storyteller and Countrywoman
, revised edition. London: Frederick Warne, 1996.

Glossary

Canna.
Cannot.

Dost’a.
Do you.

Gert.
Great.

Grave.
To cut, as to cut turf or peat.

Haver.
A bread made of oats.

Mappen.
May happen, perhaps.

Metal paving.
Metaled lanes that are paved roads.

Mezzlement.
A mystery or puzzlement.

Pattens.
Traditional Lake District women’s shoes, wooden soles, leather uppers.

Rive.
To cut.

Tatie pots.
A potato stew.

Wigging.
Dressing-down, lecture, chiding.

Recipes

Mix the eggs, mayonnaise, and mustard together and season to taste. Spread half of the slices of bread with the egg mixture and layer fresh mustard or garden cress on top of each one, reserving some cress for garnishing. Place the remaining slices of bread on top, and cut each sandwich diagonally into four triangles. Arrange the sandwiches on a platter and garnish with the remaining mustard and cress.

Badgers love carrots in all forms, but especially in cakes.

Mix together all dry ingredients. Beat eggs and stir in the oil. Combine the wet and dry ingredients. Add carrots and nuts. Pour into three greased 9-inch layer pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 25–30 minutes.

 

FROSTING

Combine all ingredients and beat with an egg beater until of spreading consistency. (Modern cooks will be glad to use an electric mixer.)

A favorite in the Lake District, especially on a gray and rainy day. Serve with a hearty salad for a one-dish dinner. And please don’t leave out the parsnips.

DUMPLINGS

Season the beef with salt and pepper and toss with flour until coated. Heat the oil in a frying pan and brown the beef. Transfer to a large kettle, along with the rest of the flour. Place over medium heat, add the onions and bacon, and cook until the onions are translucent. Add the remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce to a simmer while you make the dumplings.

Work the flour, baking powder, butter, salt, pepper, and rosemary together until they are crumbly, then add just enough water to make a dough that is not sticky. Form golf ball–sized dumplings and drop these into the stew, pushing them under the liquid. Cover the pot and simmer for 2 hours. Serves six.

This North Country dessert is said to have been developed in 1907 at The Gait Inn in Millington in the East Riding of Yorkshire, although the Udny Arms Hotel in Newburgh, Aberdeenshire, claims to be the pudding’s birthplace. Like other English puddings, it is a moist, fruity cake topped with a sauce instead of a frosting.

TOFFEE SAUCE

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 10-inch round or square baking dish. Sift the flour and baking powder together into a small bowl. Place the chopped dates in a small bowl; add the boiling water and baking soda and set aside. In a medium bowl, beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in egg and vanilla. Beat in the flour mixture in two or three additions. Add the date mixture to the batter and fold with a rubber spatula until blended. Pour into the greased baking dish. Bake until set and firm on top, about 35 minutes. Cool in the baking dish.