Our most important fête day was that upon which the Badsey, Aldington, and Wickhamford Flower Show was held. The credit, for the original inception and organization of this popular festival, is almost entirely due, I think, to the public spirit and determination of my old friend and co-churchwarden, Mr. Julius Sladden, of Badsey, and it gives me much pleasure to record the debt of gratitude which the three villages still owe him.
The Show is held as nearly as possible on the day of the ancient Badsey wake, in most parishes still celebrated on the day of the patron saint. In the case of Badsey the anniversary of the wake is the 25th of July (St. James's day). As a wake Badsey's observance is a thing of the past; it was formerly a time of much cider-drinking, a meeting-day for friends and relations, and for various trials of strength and skill, though I believe the carousals outlasted the sports by many years.
Nothing happier, in the way of a revival, and more civilized enjoyment, could have been devised than a flower show, and it is now one of the most popular fixtures of the neighbourhood with exceedingly keen competition. Besides fruit, flowers, and vegetables, the exhibits include such produce as butter and eggs, and my wife was very successful with these, but on one occasion was rather disappointed to find a beautiful dish of Langshan eggs, almost preternaturally brown and rich-looking, disqualified. The judges were not acquainted with the peculiarities of the breed—then a new one—and the reason for disqualification, as we afterwards discovered, was "artificially coloured." I believe exhibitors have been known to use coffee for this purpose, and the judges, who had not the exhibitors' names before them, fancied this to be an instance.
The children's exhibits of wild flower bouquets I always considered at this and similar shows far the most interesting and beautiful among the flowers; but, unfortunately, they very soon droop in a hot tent and look rather unhappy.
Aldington Band was the outcome of a desire for musical expression on the part of a few parishioners with some skill and experience in such matters; it included performers on wind instruments and a big drum. The Band was unfortunate at first in purchasing instruments of differing pitch, as was discovered by my wife on attending a practice at the request of the members. She pointed out the fault, and found an instructor from Evesham to give them a course of lessons, so that with a new set of instruments they soon improved. It was difficult, at first, to find a suitable place for practice. A neighbour, a little doubtful as to their attainments, suggested the railway arch in one of my meadows as a nice airy spot under cover, but later expressed doubts as to the safety of the trains running overhead on account of the violence of the commotion beneath! This, of course, was mere chaff, for they soon became so efficient that a large room was found for them in the village, and eventually they were annually engaged to perform the musical programme at the Badsey, Aldington, and Wickhamford Flower Show. My gardener was the leading spirit of the Band, a great optimist and the most willing man of any who ever reigned in my garden. There was nothing he would not cheerfully undertake, and when we had a difficulty in finding a sweep as required, he volunteered for the work and became quite an adept, with the set of rods and brushes I bought for the purpose.
Our postman, though not a villager, was quite an institution; he walked a matter of ten miles a day from Evesham to Bretforton, taking Aldington and Badsey on the way, and back at night. He filled up the interval between the incoming and outgoing posts at Bretforton, working at his trade as tailor. Entering our village each evening, he announced his arrival by three blasts on his tin horn; he was very shy of being observed in this performance, and the people had to catch him as he passed and hand him their letters. He must have walked nearly 100,000 miles in the many years he was our postman, and he told me before I left that more letters were addressed to the Manor when I first came, than to all the rest of the houses in the village together. When correspondence became more general a pillar-box was erected, but I always regretted the loss of the familiar notes of the tin horn.
Among Aldington's amusements no account would be complete without a reference to the numerous concerts and entertainments for charitable objects which my wife organized, and in which her musical talent enabled her to take a prominent part; and although I feel some hesitation in dealing with so personal a matter, I am certain that many of those who co-operated with her in the organization and the performance of these affairs will be pleased to have their recollections of her own part in them revived.
She possessed a natural soprano voice of great sweetness and flexibility, in combination with the sympathetic ability and clear enunciation which add so much to the charm of vocal expression. She was not allowed to begin singing, in earnest, before she was nineteen, for fear of straining so delicate a voice, and she then had the advantage of the tuition of Signor Caravoglia, one of the most celebrated teachers of the time.
His method included deliberation in taking breath, thorough opening of the mouth, practice before a mirror to produce a pleasing effect, and to avoid facial contortion; he would not allow any visible effort, the aim being to sing as naturally and spontaneously as a bird. His wife played the accompaniments, so that the master could give his whole attention to the attitude, production, and facial expression of the pupil.
Signer Caravoglia only consented to teach her on the express condition that she would not sing in choruses, on account of the danger of strain and overexertion. She practised regularly, chiefly exercises, two hours a day in separate half hours. Her talent was soon recognized at Malvern, where she lived before her marriage, and her assistance was in great demand for amateur charity concerts.