Dear Readers,Today I take a brief break for editing Book 7 in the Amanda Cadabra series to bring you the finale of my 2021 search for the cozy village (which I intend to take up again this spring). Having found the apple of the my dreams, I went in search of lunch at a 16th century hostelry in nearby Standstead Abbotts.
Stanstead Abbotts (also spelled Stanstead Abbott) bears the distinction of having been recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086 – a sort of survey of the taxable resources and power bases of the country of that time. The village was called Stanstede, and the Abbotts was added probably because it passed to the abbots of what is now Waltham Cross. Its main claim to historical fame is that, apparently, it was given to Anne Boleyn, second unfortunate queen of Tudor king Henry VIII.
There I found a splendid 16th-century pub with a kindly and knowledgeable host. He showed me around, explaining that the building began life as a monastery in 1538. Thereafter, it morphed into a coaching inn and finally The Red Lion pub. You’ll find a lot of Red Lion pubs on these shores. Why?
Red Lions?There are two schools of thought: one is that it was an emblem on the coat of arms of the house of Lancaster (more of them next week!), which was a major player in the fortunes of these isles. The second is that it dates back to when James IV of Scotland became James I of England in 1603 after the death of Elizabeth I. The story is that, on his triumphant procession into London, he commanded that the Scottish heraldic symbol of the red lion be displayed on all public buildings, including necessarily, inns and taverns. To date, there are 547 Red Lion pubs in the UK.
In just such a setting, with aged beams above and a large brick fireplace warming the room, you would expect to find Amanda Cadabra and Detective Inspector Trelawney discussing murder and lunch. The Sunken Madley pub, of similar antiquity, is, of course, The Sinner’s Rue. The Christmas Ball of Book 2 in the series, Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets, is set in the function room above.
But back to the Red Lion. The restaurant within the pub is the warmly named Amico Amici, and, from their tempting menu, I ordered lasagne. While I waited, my host brought some historical papers relating to the sale of the pub as it changed from owner to owner. On the yellowing formal documents of sale, written in a fine italic hand, were details of everything a new buyer would find on the premises. My favourite was the mention of a ‘beer pulling engine’. A mystery! Enthralled, I enquired of my host what this might import. It’s what we’d call a tap, the large vertical handle you see on a bar that staff pull to allow the amber nectar to flow into the waiting flagon below.
Bidding farewell to the friendly manager and staff, I set out from The Red Lion. There was one more stop to make. To the 13th century.
There is a mention of a priest of the village in the Domesday Book, and the original church of St James is thought to have been Saxon. The present structure is primarily 18th century, but there are parts hundreds of years older, so I made sure to photograph the good bits for you.
This porch is 15th century, and the doorway inside is 13th century. As you pass under the small wooden roof and place your hand on the stone as you enter the church, all at once you are united with the hundreds, if not thousands of feet that have trod the same surface, of hands that have touched that same place: worshippers, penitents, crafters, builders, theology and arts students, and, like me, simple tourists who admire architecture and have a love of history. And of course, who are in search of inspiration for a notable feature of Amanda Cadabra’s village: Sunken Madley’s St Ursula-without-Barnet, which is also a medieval church.
In the nave, I found the strangest pews I’d ever seen. These, I learned from the guidebook, are called box pews. That’s
right, they are literally boxed in with high wooden partitions. Here we have another link to the Amanda Cadabra series. These are shown in an engraving by the artist William Hogarth, namesake of our very own former Chief Inspector Hogarth of the Devon and Cornwall police and Thomas Trelawney’s boss.
You can see the pews in the second of William Hogarth’s series of Industry and Idleness here. The idea was to give the parishioners privacy. Back in the more austere days of the 14th century, there was nowhere to sit in churches. After that, wealthier parishioners got their own seating, in their own private pews, nicely enclosed and even including a table and fireplace! (And affording an opportunity for a covert nap) This did no favours to the organisation of the interior space of the church. So the ecclesiastical establishment gave in and had ordered rows of pews built with a central aisle for symmetry and a, no doubt symbolic, path to the altar.
Finally, the last photograph taken, I returned to the car and took the road south to what was once the kingdom of Middlesex, and home. The summer, astronomically speaking, was over, but there will be more field trips and photoshoots to come. Not only that, but there are developments with the new book, the seventh in the Amanda Cadabra series, to share with you.
More of that, next time.
Happy reading,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
It was our first date. I chose my clothes with care. I even felt, oddly enough, a little nervous. Would this meeting be all 
that I hoped? I’d seen photographs, of course, but today was the day when I’d see The One in the flesh. There was something of an age gap. In fact, that was not the only gap.
For I was going to meet the apple of my eye, rare, ripe and two hundred years old. And it felt like a date. This was the day that I would see with my own eyes, for the first time, the Hormead Pearmain. Three years ago, I’d never heard of it, or indeed, thought all that much about apples in general, let alone an obscure variety. And yet, since 2018, it had taken on a life of its own and even a personality.
As you may have read in a previous Letter to Readers, when I created Amanda Cadabra’s quaint English village of Sunken Madley, I knew that it would have strong rural connections, in spite of being, technically, in the county Greater London. Nevertheless, it is practically on the Hertfordshire border. I did my research and discovered that, once upon a time, the county was known for its orchards. A hundred years ago, there were 800 of them. Even now, there are a staggering 400.
And so, in my mind, apple trees grew up around Amanda’s village, and the variety would be the Victorian Hormead Pearmain. My journey to find the particular fruit I was to finally to photograph today was one that had taken some persistence and something of a fascinating detour. However, on a fine Sunday morning, summer edging into autumn, I reached my destination.
Although, when I chose the Hormead Pearmain, I had confidently imagined I would easily find entire orchards full, it turned out that the trees are scarce and precious. One of the very few places to see one, and bearing fruit, was the Tewin Orchard Nature Reserve. It is a village orchard near the River Mimram and not far from the Hertfordshire town of Welwyn Garden City (pronounced well’-in). The orchard lies only a mile or so from Hertingfordbury, where my round of summer field trips began.
The warden of the orchard is none other than the celebrated Hertfordshire naturalist, Michael Clark, author of a Apples: A Field Guide. When I drove up the little tree-shaded drive, I saw Michael sitting on a chair, reading a book. He looked up with a welcoming smile, directed me where to park and soon we were on a short walk to reach the two apple trees. Michael left me to my photography with an invitation to come up to the cottage afterwards for refreshments.
And there is was, on the tree which not so much taller than I am, in green and red, plump and perfect: my Hormead Pearmain. As you can see in the photo below, there were, in fact, four apples on the young tree, but there was one that was the best. I photographed and filmed, watching for the best light as the sun went in and out of the clouds. Time flashed by until I felt I had all I could get.
Up at the house, I met Anna, Michael’s talented and kind wife. I had marvelled at the beauty of the garden, which is her creation. I spent a fascinating hour with them, hearing stories of how they met and the delightful history of the cottage. Michael gave me 
a map on which he pointed out a breathtaking view of the Mimram valley, and so there is a future destination for a field trip, perhaps in the spring. Although Michael seems to regard himself as but an amateur artist and photographer, all of the beautiful illustrations in the book were painted by him, and he also took all of the photographs.
I came away with a gifted copy of Michael’s book and … the apple, which he invited me to take. I went back for more photographs and film, and my last act was to pick that finest fruit. I stored it lovingly in my car to be taken home.
However, the day was not yet over. I had arranged to lunch in the village of Stanstead Abbotts, some 9 miles away to the east. But that is a story for next week.
Love at First Bite – a Taste of …
This story would not be complete without the purpose of the apples of Sunken Madley being fulfilled: to be eaten.
The choice fruit sat there for a few weeks. I kept thinking that I must cook something unique, but there always seemed to be something more urgent or important to do. Finally, the moment came. The Hormead Pearmain is a cooking apple, and I decided to make something very simple, and to be fair, quick. Chopping it up, I couldn’t resist sampling a piece. This was a revelation.
Over the course of my life, I’ve eaten a few varieties: Golden Delicious, Cox’s, Granny Smith’s, Jazz, Braeburn, Bramley, Pink Lady, Royal Gala and Russet, to name the most popular here in the UK. In my experience, apples are dense in texture, a little tart, sweet, and above all, apple-y in flavour. This is what I expected. However, the Hormead Pearmain was light and airy in texture. Yes, it was a tang of tartness, but then came layers of flavour: not just apple but that of pears, cherries, apricots and peaches. It was astonishing. A world of fruit trees in a single fruit. And that from a cooking apple.
I didn’t want it all pureed, so it needed very little heat. I put it in a ramekin and added a topping of crushed pecans and cashews. Every bit was a delight. The pieces melted in the mouth, the nuts put back the crunch and set off the softened fruit that was still sending waves of flavour. I can hardly wait until this year’s apple season to go back for more.
So, there you have it. I do hope that one day you have the opportunity to meet and sample Amanda’s apple for yourself. In the spring, I hope to return to photograph the Hormead Pearmain in bloom and bring those to you here.
Thank You For …
The reviews on Book 1, Amanda Cadabra and the Hidey-Hole Truth have shot up from around 100 to almost 250. I would like to express my heartfelt appreciation to everyone who has so kindly taken the time to express their enjoyment of the story. I literally gasped, put a hand to my heart and teared up every time I saw the numbers jump. Also, thank you to everyone, especially in the last month, who has followed me on Bookbub, rated or reviews the books on Goodreads, joined the newsletters, downloaded, read, bought, recommended any of the books and even written to me. I am immensely moved by your appreciation and support, and feel all the more inspired to bring you the best sequel possible, as soon as possible!
Meanwhile, next week (when I also hope to bring you some news of the progress of Book 7), I shall finish the story of my extraordinary day in Hertfordshire. For there were more delights to follow. This was the highlight of the summer. Of course, at that time, I was not to know what an extraordinary December awaited. But that is a moment I shall always cherish: when I met my apple.
Happy January,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
What happened last Sunday? It set off 4 free days for Amanda Cadabra and The Hidey-Hole Truth. There were some 25,000 downloads. So this is a quick narrative stop-off to say a heartfelt thank you to everyone who participated in such a landmark event for me, Amanda and the series.
Just so you know what I did last summer, the fourth of my research trips (you can read about the others among these Letters) took me to The Barnet Medieval Festival to see the re-enactment of the Battle of Barnet, mentioned in the Amanda Cadabra series.
It’s important to the stories. This conflict would have ranged across Monken Hadley, the real village on which Sunken Madley is based. The re-enactment is an annual event and is key to the plot of Book 4: Amanda Cadabra and The Rise of Sunken Madley.
So much for past books. This was also a field trip for the story I am currently preparing for you, the seventh in the series.
The current monarch, Elizabeth II, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, is a descendant of the Duke of York, who won the battle on that occasion. And there in the photo is his flag with the lions and the fleurs-de-lis. But because of the dense fog that day, supplemented by the smoke of cannon fire, the battle could have gone either way, and someone else could have ended up in The Big Chair. It was, in fact, a crucial point in the history of these islands.
The weather conditions that prevailed on 14 April 1471 play a role in the new Amanda Cadabra book. So I wanted, in some way, to experience what it may have been like. On top of that, I wanted to meet a monk, which I did. Two, in fact. One of whom was a genuine, modern, cleric. The other, the Mad Monk of Mitcham, a medieval jewellery specialist and craftsman who serves the re-enactment community with both replicas and the genuine article, was able to show me some pieces that were 2000 years old, and told me about common accessories at the time of the battle. But that is a research story for another future book.
I was tremendously impressed by the knowledge of the re-enactors, who were kind enough to talk to me after the event. Historical accuracy is key for them. Their costumes were handmade, and many of the props were lovingly constructed by the re-enactors themselves. Others are supplied by re-enactment props
and costume specialists.
Excitingly, I was able to see first-hand how a costume that will appear in the next book was made. I visited a hat stall where I learned about the white linen caps that women wore: required by law at the time to cover their hair. Felt hats could go over the top of the cap.
During medieval times, there were waves of Sumptuary laws designed to differentiate between the social classes. How much notice was taken of these in practice is debatable (I’m guessing, very little). In theory, specific fabrics, such as satin and velvet, and certain colours were allowed to be worn only by the élite, for example crimson, dark reds, royal blue and purple. Others, including surprisingly bright ones like blue, russet and yellow, were worn by the lower classes. All of this has 
gone into the new Amanda Cadabra book. Women’s dresses were made of linen or wool, and the re-enactor who explained all of this allowed me to feel the weight of her skirt – heavier than any dress I have ever worn.
‘But you get used to it,’ she explained cheerfully.
Surprisingly, there were a fair number of women on the battlefield, as you can see from the photos. We know that certain noblewomen did lead armies into battle over the course of the medieval period. But what about ordinary female folk in Britain? There is evidence that they supplied the fighters with water, medical aid, ammunition and even fired weapons. We don’t know if they did actually fight. But then we also don’t know that they didn’t.
I hope that this has enabled you to savour some of the excitement I experienced on that action-packed day out and its breadcrumbs to the next books. I have now finished the second draft of the new Amanda Cadabra and have begun the first editing pass. Next stop: I go to meet my apple. An unforgettable, emotional encounter and a remarkable horticulturist made for the high point in and grand finale to my field trips of the season. You never forget the moment you first see …. But more of that to come. Next time, as it’s a festive weekend marked by feasting, I’ll be announcing the new Glorious Cozy Food Quiz, an all new, all picture puzzle for few fun Christmas or otherwise moments.
Happy Holidays,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
Dear Readers,
Starting this very day, until Wednesday, 15th December, Amanda Cadabra and The Hidey-Hole Truth is free to download from Amazon. Even as we speak, an email is going out from Bookbub to 2,800,000 cozy mystery subscribers and, of course, to our own subscribers to broadcast these glad tidings. Here is a little 30-second video for your entertainment with (a shortened version of) some brand new winter-themed music from the overwhelmingly talented, videographer’s angel, Australian composer Aaron Kenny:
Yes, I did say I’d report from the thick of the historical battlefield, and I shall, next week, but I just have so much to tell you that it needs to keep for another seven days. You see, in preparation for today’s huge event, for which I have been hoping and planning for three years, I have prepared some new goodies. In case you aren’t yet in the know, what is this Bookbub of which I speak?
In their own words, ‘BookBub is a free service that helps you discover books you’ll love through unbeatable deals, handpicked recommendations, and updates from your favorite authors.’ They have a subscription list of millions. It can take, yes, years for your book to be accepted to be included in one email on one day. They take only 10-15% of submissions (which come from both independent authors and traditional publishers), and the standards, to put it mildly, are high. And, as I say, after three years of attempts, one midnight, I saw the acceptance email and was stunned with joy.
I would like to pay tribute, at this point, to all of the readers who posted a review of Amanda Cadabra and the Hidey-Hole Truth, helping it to achieve the milestone of 100 Amazon reviews. I have no doubt that this was a significant factor that prompted Bookbub’s decision to accept it for a highly-prized Bookbub Featured Deal.
Thanks to Daniel Becerril Ureña for his professional and creative cover, to Kim, our editor, Daria Lacy for her flawless formatting and to Laurence o’Bryan and Tanja Slijepčević of Books Go Social whose advice, experience and services have helped guide my marketing journey . I would also like to express sincere appreciation again to Kim, to best-selling author and friend Tim Brown, to Paula, Katherine, David, Katherine (yes, I’m lucky enough to know two fine ladies by that name) and all of the dear friends and readers who have always expressed such encouraging and heart-warming faith in me, the books and the prospect of increasing success.
So, the good news arrived. But that was only last month. Not much time to prepare. However ….
Cover RevealIn honour of this auspicious occasion, our skilled, deft and inspired illustrator Daniel, whom I cannot thank sufficiently, has pulled out all the stops, crammed this extra project into his already busy schedule and, for Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets, produced this thrilling cover. Feedback so far has been: ‘I love it!’ ‘Makes you want to read the story’, and ‘fab’. I hope that you like it too.
To provide more fun for you and the new visitors arriving from today, I have added a new feature to the website. So far, each quiz is just ten multiple-choice questions-long. They have been tested by David, a friend and particularly kind beta reader whose fascinating correspondence never fails to give me a lift. Here are the first three, in case you’d like to have a play now. If you want to re-do any of the quizzes, just refresh your page, and you’ll get back to the start. Any feedback would be greatly welcomed: ‘too easy,’ ‘too hard’, or ‘Goldilocks level’.
Yes, if you check the Inspiration section, you’ll find more photographs garnered from my field trips in search of the cozy village. Additional ones are coming soon. And finally, at the time of writing this to you, I have taken advantage of a new feature on Amazon that allows me to tell you more about the series. It’s called A+ Content, and mine now includes a pretty chart about the main characters with customised avatars for each one by graphic artist Soodabeh Damavandi, plus a seasonal and historical background to each of the books. Do have a look, and again, it would be wonderful to hear what you think about it.
It has been a pleasure to share my good news with you. If you would like to be a part of the celebration, please consider sharing the video above or this letter to readers with even just one friend. Thank you.
Absolutely. Battle, smoke, books past and future. The works. Also, a report on the next four days. Until then,
Wishing you a happy winter week,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
A thousand years ago, a kingdom was formed. The name of this kingdom was derived from the West Saxons, to distinguish themselves from the Saxon kingdoms in other directions around them. Its name was Middlesex. It existed for a thousand until, in 1965, it was absorbed into London.
The place where I grew up was once in Middlesex, and also, for a time, was Amanda Cadabra’s village of Sunken Madley. And so it came about, that inspiration for this large hamlet was, by chance, brought to my attention there, one sunny weekend in September. It wasn’t even what I’d been looking for.
Which brings me to apples.
When our cozy village was forming in my imagination, I knew that it had rural connections. So, I went looking for what Hertfordshire, historically, has been famous for growing. Yes, you guessed it: apples. Sunken Madley suddenly became bordered by orchards, and you may recall that Amanda’s and her grandparents Senara and Perran’s house is number 26 Orchard Way. The orchard itself is next door and has some … rather unusual features that become apparent in Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets.
But, what would be the variety of apples that would be growing in and around the village? It would have to be an old variety with a name evoking warmth and antiquity. Reading about apples, I made a shortlist, and the winner was … Hormead Pearmain. Into the first book it went, whilst I blithely assumed that, somewhere, there would be such an orchard that I could photograph and film for your delight.
The truth turned out to be somewhat different but much 
more interesting. I set about looking up orchards and, with my first phone call, spoke to Alison Rubens, an outstandingly helpful lady who is the founder of the Chorleywood Community Orchard in Hertfordshire. Mrs Rubes explained that Hormead Pearmain was, in fact, now a rarity. However, she kindly gave m a list of orchards with vintage varieties that I could contact to see if any of them had ‘my’ apple.
I worked down the list. ‘No,’ ‘Sorry, no’ and ‘have you tried …?’ ensued until I came to the last name in the list. A gentleman in what was once called Pinnora in the one-time county of Middlesex. While attempting to contact him, I looked up Pinner, as it is now called. Of course, as a north Londoner, I had driven past and through it and never taken much notice of it. And then ….
The internet presented me with an idyllic, chocolate-box photograph of a high street, sloping up to an old church. The thoroughfare appeared to consist almost entirely of 16th-century shops and an utterly charming pub. I gasped. This was El Dorado. Quickly I planned a route.
Then I made contact with Gerry Edwards of Pinner’s Gerry Edwards Orchard Services. Gerry assured me that he had a young Hormead Pearmain tree on his land. However, he was at present away from Pinner working in Dorset. Nevertheless, Gerry promised, on his return, to take some photographs and send them to me. He explained that there is a reason why these old varieties are no longer grown. In simplified terms: they’re no good. That is, not compared with newer types that are hardier and yield more fruit. They are now grown for interest and for the sake of preservation.
With thanks, I set off on my journey to Pinner, called Pinnora in 1231. I was now filled with a new purpose: not apples but further inspiration for Sunken Madley and photographs for you, dear readers.
On the way, I received a call from one of the contacts on the list. This was none other than the noted horticulturalist and naturalist, Michael Clark, warden of the Tewin Orchard in Hertfordshire. More of Mr Clark next time. I was delighted to hear that, yes, he had two trees and one had fruit. I was welcome to come along and take photographs.
By then, however, I was on my way to Pinner but promised to call back and make an appointment. As I say, more of that to come.
Which brings us to where I landed that day. Pinner is just two miles south of the Hertfordshire border, to which I drew closer for lunch. I had planned a visit to a restored 17th-century hostelry at the edge of Harrow Wield, on the ancient ridgetop road of Old Redding. The front looks over to trees, not apple trees but the woods of the common. The view from the back of the pub is truly spectacular, down over the valley of the River Pinn.
This inn goes by the unusual name of The Case is Altered. It derives from the time when the owner of the, then, cottages changed their use to a public house. I spent a delightful lunch hour. Mine host could not have been friendlier or more attentive, and on the deck in the garden looking over the magnificent vista, I must have had the best seat in the house. This spot is an excellent echo of a small place immersed, as is Sunken Madley, in the countryside even though it is, technically, within the borders of Greater London.
Nevertheless, my dream ‘village’ road beckoned, and so I set forth. And it was as wondrous as the photograph. A perfect chocolate-box high street lined with small shops, where Tudor rubs shoulders with Dickensian Victorian, stretches up to the ancient church at the top of the hill. The jewel in the crown was The 16th century Queen’s Head, bright in the sunshine, fronted by parasolled tables with happy snackers and sippers.
I was drawn as to the lodestone rock. ‘Welcome’ barely begins to describe my reception. Naturally, I asked for permission to take photographs of the establishment. It was granted, but the staff were interested in my reason for visiting. I explained, and soon I was chatting to the highly well-informed proprietor.
Sean White, FRSA (Fellowship of the Royal Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce), is not only an award-winning publican but a sponsor of art, life and all that is fine. He cares deeply both for the welfare of his staff and for those who visit the Queen’s Head. Listening to Sean describe the history and present of the pub was a remarkable experience.
The Grade II listed building was originally residential, a Wealden hall house. These were built for the staff of a noble household. This one consisted of 4 bays, and in this case, one was the cottage next door. It also had a forge. Then it was repurposed into a coaching inn with stables and was originally called The Crown. A nice safe name that meant you were covered regardless of how the throne might change hands!
However, in 1766 the owner, Gideon Loot, took the plunge and named it the Upper Queen’s Head after Queen Anne. (He had another Queen’s Head at the bottom of the road).
One curiosity dates from the 1930s when the wealthy and somewhat eccentric Mr Dawson Billows was the proprietor. He briefly kept a bear in the stables and would take it for walks until, presumably, a more suitable home was found. If this photograph is anything to go by, the household did their best to care for Dawson’s animal guest.
Mr Billows made extensive refurbishments to, and had his name engraved on, the structure. You’d have to have a keen eye to find it, but Sean told me where to stand by the bar and look up. And above on a ceiling beam … there it was.
Coming into the present and uniting with the past, Sean related that on New Year’s Day, when morris dancers make their rounds, they include at the Queen’s Head on their route, dancing inside and out. I must say, I am tempted to pay a visit on that particular day!
Sean kindly emailed me three documents detailing the history of the pub. And, in addition, he gave me a copy of the journal Proud of Pinner, which offers a wealth of information about the town, including historical anecdotes and photographs. Who knows what choice detail may find its way into the Amanda Cadabra series?
One of Sean’s tip-offs was that 
most of the Tudor-looking buildings were just that: ‘looking’ rather than actually dating from that period, and built much later. Sean pointed out which ones were genuine, and you can see the best of them here or on the Inspiration page.
The second vital piece of information with which Sean’s kindly furnished me was that the church was preparing a flower festival in honour of its 700th anniversary. This I had to see, and you will know about if you’ve seen the letter to readers here and the video about that extraordinary event that I came back to experience.
And so I made my progress up the high street towards my final stop: the church of St John the Baptist, where stunning floral preparations were in progress for the coming weekend’s celebrations.
If you’d like to see and read about that, you can find the letter and video here: 700 Years
There, for the moment, we leave Pinner. I have another reason to return in addition to the morris dancers. Sean informed that there is an excellent museum nearby that it would be well worth visiting.
Next stop: into smoke of a famous battle to find yet more inspirational treasures and research for the next two books in the Amanda Cadabra series.
Thank you for coming along on my journey with me. I hope you have enjoyed this expedition into the lost kingdom of Middlesex and the delights of Pinnora.
From next Sunday Book 1, Amanda Cadabra and The Hidey-Hole Truth will be available for free download from Amazon, from 12th to 15th December. I’ll remind you next week in case you’d like to check it out or pass on the good news to your friends.
Back soon.
Holly
PS If you’d love to start the series now:
Hoddesdon is a small but beautiful town in Hertfordshire, the county north of London. It is from here that the Amanda
Cadabra series draws much of its rural spirit, as well as architectural inspiration.
And so, it was inevitable that it should be a field-trip destination for photographs (larger and more on the Inspiration page) for you of cottages, pubs and churches from, ideally, the 16th century when Sunken Madley, Amanda’s village, was up and running.
Before my visit a few weeks earlier, about which I wrote to you last time, to the village of Hertingfordbury, I had never heard of Hoddesdon. However, it had been revealed to me, while on hallowed ground, that there I should find the riches I sought.
To help you get your bearings, the map from the previous letter to you has had a new feature added: the river Lea. This is where I get my water, incidentally. Not that I visit each day in person.
The Lea flows down from the Chiltern Hills to the north, in the county of Bedfordshire, makes its way through Hertfordshire, west through the county of Essex, and finally into London to join the mighty Father Thames. More about the Lea another time. The point is that Hoddesdon is in the Lea Valley. (Please note that this map is an approximation of locations. Best not to base an expedition to deepest Hertfordshire on it.)
Having arrived at the south end of the little town, the first building outside which parked was one I was searching for: Rawdon House, first built in 1622 by the splendidly named Sir Marmaduke Rawdon. This fine edifice could easily have been the inspiration for The Grange, arguably the grandest house in Sunken Madley.
The Grange is home to the village’s oldest and most venerable resident, Miss Cynthia de Havillande , her bosom companion, Miss Gwendolen Armstrong-Witworth, and their friend, estate manager and self-styled ‘butler’ Moffat. Not only that, but it is also the residence of the unattainable Natasha, object of desire of Tempest, Amanda’s perennially grumpy feline familiar.
Rawdon House appears now to be occupied by offices, and I was kindly granted permission to photograph and film from the courtyard, as you can see. Incidentally, Sir Marmaduke also built a house for his son, called, coincidentally … wait for it … The Grange, which I hope to find one day in the future. It came to be used as a school.
But that was only the beginning of what Hoddesdon was to offer me.
Opposite and a little further north along the High Street (otherwise unromantically known as the A1170) was a jewel of
a public house — tavern or inn of old. It was built in the 16th century, just the way we like them, or possibly earlier. This hostelry is very much the flavour of Sunken Madley’s The Sinner’s Rue that dates from the same time.
It was here, at The Golden Lion, that I lunched, regaled by a resident of the pub itself with fascinating tales, including one of a member of staff who was required to stay there one Saturday night for the sake of the security of the inn during the hours of darkness. Alone. Unable to bear the ghostliness of the atmosphere, she was unable to last the night and fled. Her room was now occupied by my kindly narrator, who declared that he had never detected the least hint of spookiness anywhere in the building.
Charming as the exterior of the building was, within it was even more so. The old beams of the original timber frame were everywhere to be seen. It was here I lunched, chatting to the splendid barkeep and the pub’s fascinating principal tenant. It could not have been a happier hour, in such beguiling surroundings with the best of company. This was the true Brit pub experience.
However, there was more to see and to capture on (digital) film for you, and so, at last, I re-emerged into the September sunshine and made my way north up the High Street. There I found more glorious sights. Here you can see how the juxtaposition of architectural styles as the village grew into a little town, and in the foreground, that testimony to the British Royal Mail: the red post box.
Next was The White Swan, another 16th-century inn and remarkable for having kept the same name for 400 years. Inside, the old beams and cosy inglenook fireplace are still in evidence, and there was the expected welcome at the bar.
My final port of call, having ended my soft-drink pub crawl, was the 15th-century church of St Augustine’s Church, 
Broxbourne, whose borough encompasses Hoddesdon. This church has the distinction of a mention in the Domesday book of 1086, but the one still standing was built 400 years later. A mere stripling by comparison. In common with many Hertfordshire churches, it was built with mainly flint-faced rubble walls with stone (Ashlar) dressing. Flint, because Hertfordshire has a lot of it. The tower’s eight bells are rung for weddings and to call the faithful on Sundays.
Again, this church echoes Sunken Madley’s own St-Ursula-without-Barnet, which is also a medieval church, though with a more modestly sized graveyard and probably fewer bells. (To be decided. Suggestions welcomed.)
What I was unprepared for was the beauty of St Augustine’s location. It stands by the New River, a tributary of the River Lea, sparkling in the sunlight, a-quack with ducks. I say ‘New River’; it was new in 1613 when it was thoughtfully created to supply the locals with drinking water. The schools were finishing for the day, and a group of eager children were clustered around the ice-cream van (one of which also gets a mention in the Amanda Cadabra series).
I stood on the little bridge over the water, knowing that, wherever I pointed my camera, I would capture something beautiful, whether it was the feathered friends below, the church tower above or the tree-lined path leading away through the park, which could easily be a village green.
And so, with the sun westering and the rush hour gathering, it was time to leave this idyllic setting and head for home. However, I had another field trip planned, for the very next day. But that is a story for the forthcoming letter to you, dear readers.
I hope you have enjoyed this romp through a small historic county town and that it has supplemented your vision of the village of Sunken Madley … just ‘three miles south of the Hertfordshire border and 13 miles north of the Houses of Parliament.
Back soon.
Happy imagining,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
Sunken Madley is a fictional creation for the Amanda Cadabra series, based on the location of a real place. It has its own distinctive character and characters. Into the mix, go all the most endearing features of both real modern villages and some more traditional ones.
I remember reading a quote about the ideal English village where it is eternally the summer of 1932, with cricket on the green with scones and homemade jam. ‘Stands the church clock at ten to three? And is there honey still for tea?’ as Rupert Brook’s eloquent, poetic tribute the English village asks.
You can have a taster of this in the Inspiration section of this website. However, this summer, it has been my goal to offer you much more, both in the letters to readers here and in the gallery of photos under the Inspiration tab. And so I set out on a new tour of Hertfordshire, the county just to the north of Greater London.
The village of Sunken Madley, as you may have read, lies just 3 miles south of the Hertfordshire border (and 13 miles north of the Houses of Parliament). It is still, in spirit, a somewhat rural community. To give you some insight into what the village looks like, it is my pleasure to travel through this particular county in search of, in particular, 16th century, cottages, pubs and churches.
And so, on a glorious summer’s day, my pilgrimage to Hertingfordbury, from who sign the above image is taken, began.
The village has that oh-so-desirable mark of topographical distinction: an entry in the Domesday Book of 1086. There the name is spelt Hertingfordberie, which means “Stronghold of the people of Hertford.’ So it existed before the Normans moved in and started transforming Britain from a Scandi-land to a more French one.
At this point in historical documentary research into what was where and who owned what, it does help a bit if you can fathom the depths of such phrases as ‘with sac and soc, toll and team, infangthief and outfangthief’. In case you’re intrigued by this detail, it meant that, if you had all of those, you could charge me, for example, for the privilege of crossing your land, and take me to court if I rustled your cattle or borrowed your garden rake for too long.
Getting back to Hertford, though. It is the county town, the capital, as it were. It has a number of notable agéd buildings and so is on the list for a visit. However, as it is a town rather than a village, other places have won priority. Nevertheless, it’s a good way to locate Hertiingfordbury, which is just to the West.
I began at the church of St Mary’s. The highlight of the interior is the 13th-century set of three tall pointed windows in the east wall (that’s the one opposite the entrance). Or, if you’d like a more tech spec: ‘a triple lancet’, ‘each is lancet having moulded arches and shafted jambs with moulded capitals and bases’.
Little of the 13th or 15th-century church has survived the dreaded Victorian restoration processes. However, let’s not be too hard on the Victorians. The chances are that St Mary’s would, by now, be but a pile of flints and stoneware, oft-raided by local builders over the last two centuries, if eager Victorians hadn’t done the best with what they knew and had at the time.
Now for St Mary’s greatest claim to fame. The churchyard contains the unmarked grave (to be located on a future visit) of one of the last women in England to be sentenced to death for witchcraft. Her sentence was pronounced in 1712, but she died in 1730. How can this be?
Mrs Wenham was reprieved and then granted a royal pardon by the then monarch, Queen Anne — who is probably best known for the style of furniture created during her tenure of the throne. As some of the villagers had ganged up on the widowed Jane, it was suggested that she move to elsewhere in Hertfordshire. Wiki’s account of the trial is entertaining and showed the attitude of the better educated of the time towards accusations of sorcery.
In any event, Jane lived on and, in our century, inspired two plays.
Now we come to the most exciting aspect of my visit to the church. Whilst wandering amongst the headstones, as one does, I noticed two gentlemen in hi-viz vests near one of the graves. Intrigued, I approached and hailed them. That was when I noticed the bucket.
Soon we were chatting away and exchanging why we each were there. My two fellow visitors were from the CWGC, the Commonwealth war graves commission. Each volunteer visits 5 graveyards near their home and keeps any graves between 1914 and 1945 cleaned and weeded. If anyone knew old churches in the area, it was these two gentlemen.
Having explained my mission, they at once suggested that my next port of call be the borough of Broxbourne and the town of Hoddesdon in particular. There I should find the riches I sought. It being midday, we then made our separate ways, to, naturally, the village pub.
No, not the Bavarian hostelry of operetta fame but the 400-year-old tavern down the road from the church. Here, at a wooden table, in the sunshine, I feasted on a crisply fresh prawn cocktail and chatted with the amiable staff there. It was an idyllic country lunchtime. But there was more.
Opposite the inn were some cottages dating from 17th century, including one intriguingly named The Old Bakery. The deal with very old buildings is that they are more likely to be still standing if they have been in use.
If they have been, in particular, lived in, then it is only reasonable that the inhabitants will have wanted to maintain it to have a desirable level of comfort. This will mean a balance between harmonizing with the existing look of antiquity and modern technology and health and safety standards.
Consequently, you may see, for example, ye double-glazéd 21st-century windows on a 16th-century cottage. However, the owners are maintaining the house for posterity, while honouring the legacy of the original builders, which was, after all, a cosy place for people to live.
Photos taken, local food sampled, the church visited, and the next destination lined up, it was time to up stumps and make for home (and the writing desk, of course).
Next stop then: Hoddesdon,
Happy reading,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
Dear Readers,
The planets are aligned; it is decreed. Yes, this Thursday, 11th November Remembrance Day, celebrated as Veterans Day in the United States, will still see the offer of Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets, free to download from Amazon for just one day.
However, on Remembrance Sunday, 14th November, it is Book 3, Amanda Cadabra and The Flawless Plan, that will be available for free download from Amazon. Just that book and just for the day.
It is in book 3 that Sunken Madley actually celebrates Remembrance Day. There is the moving role-call of those who lost their lives in the First World War, showing how it touched every family in the village.
Not only that, but Amanda and Detective Inspector Trelawney must travel back in time to 1918 and the night of a storm that shook Sunken Madley. Only there can they discover the truth of the murder in the present day.
With Book 2 centring on events in 1940 and Book 3 on 1918 following Armistice Day, this is the perfect weekend for new readers to join the series at zero cost.
Yes, for the first time, both books will be made available for free download over the same long weekend, to add them to your cozy collection. If you’ve already read them and you know of existing or potential cozy fans among your friends, please do pass on the good news.
So, here are the new official dates: Thursday 11th November for Book 2, Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets, and Sunday 14th November for Amanda Cadabra and The Flawless Plan. I do hope that this slight reshuffle is to everyone’s taste and that you enjoy these two books.
Back soon with news of progress on the trail of village inspiration and The Magic Fruit.
Happy Mid-November reading,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
Dear Readers,
First, then, the best news! This week, on Thursday, is Remembrance Day, celebrated as Veterans Day in the United States. In honour of the occasion, Amanda Cadabra and The Cellar of Secrets, free to download from Amazon. For the second book in the series, events that took place during WWII are central, with spies, bombs, and the crucial Canadian connection. It also features a modern-day German hero and his crew, who become especially beloved by the villagers of Sunken Madley.
This offer is just for Thursday 11th November and Remembrance Sunday, 14th November. If you’ve read and enjoyed it, please do share the news with any of your friends who you think may have fun joining the series.
Now the spotlight moves over to you with a special thank you for new a landmark in the series. I am delighted to announce that Amanda Cadabra and The Hidey-Hole Truth has now achieved 100 reviews on Amazon.com. This is entirely due to you who so generously took the time to write and post your thoughts. However, this is by extension thanks to all of you who have posted or spoken a review anywhere at all, for sharing the pleasure that any of the books have given you, for being Amanda’s ambassadors, for spreading the cozy joy.
‘So, where is the next book?‘ I hear you ask. Last time I showed you the magic circle, in which I had printed out of all the higgeldy-piggeldy first draft and arranged in a pleasingly artistic arc on the carpet. Here is a photo of the next stage completed. During the journey from the floor, all sorts of rearranging, adding and excluding has taken place. (I fully admit to having added the tea cup stain. I just didn’t feel I’d be giving you your money’s worth without it.)
All of this now had to be ordered in Word, and countless changes have occurred during that process, with the bulk of the writing added, bringing the total word count up to around 82,000. More news on the next (now completed) stage to follow.
To further encourage the writing process, I have with immense pleasure and relief, handed over the advertising on Amazon and Facebook to my wonderful promoters Books Go Social. This means I’ll have more time to actually create the books.
One thing my field trips this year have shown: I need proper business cards. So together with the immensely patient and skilled designers at Plasma Design and my talented illustrator, Daniel Becerril Ureña, this is the result: in gold and black ink on a transparent background.
When I opened the parcel, I didn’t know what it was. The cards had arrived 2 weeks earlier than I expected. ‘Thrilled’ does not begin to cover it! The version on the left is a graphics file, and the one one on the right is a photograph of the same card showing the glint of gold. I’ve had rave reviews so far. I’d love to know what you think too, so please drop me a line or find me on Facebook or Twitter.
Next time I’ll be telling you about another research trip for the series and … for the next two books.
Happy November reading,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
Dear Readers,
With the air clearing and restrictions lifting, it has been time to make hay while the su
n shines. After the dull summer days, the skies above the county of Hertfordshire have turned, sporadically, to blue and gold. Whenever the weather was apt for photoshoots of charming English villages redolent of Amanda Cadabra’s beloved Sunken Madley, with camera batteries charged and memory cards with plenty of space, I ventured forth.
It has been quite a journey and one that I shall share with you. However, this week I wanted to tell you of my most recent outing to a once-in-a-lifetime experience in a medieval church. It sits upon a hilltop of what was, long ago, the ancient county of Saxon Middlesex, once home to the Amanda’s village before it was subsumed by Hertfordshire.
This was founded well over a thousand years ago, before that most famous date in English history: 1066 marking the Norman Conquest. On the plus side, the Normans brought with them some novel notions on cooking, castles and cathedrals. They were also into building churches. Lots and lots of churches. Many of our existing ecclesiastical buildings owe their founding to this medieval period. Including … wait for it … the fictional St Ursula-without-Barnet of Sunken Madley fame (based on St Mary the Virgin, Monken Hadley), and, my latest discovery, St John the Baptist, parish church of Pinner.
It was quite by accident that I found that St John’s was about to celebrate the 700th year since its founding that very weekend. It was to be marked with a resplendent Flower Festival, the like of which had never been seen by that historic structure. Next time I will tell you more of the strange and wonderful chain of events that led me there.
The church and it’s long history reminded me so much of our dear (even if imaginary) St Ursula of Sunken Madley that it was even that I simply had to attend.
I was moved by the warmth of the welcome from the busy flower arrangers there, and amazed by the sheer beauty and creativity of the designs expressing thanks for nature, the arts and other aspects of life. Some of the ladies were from St John, others from neighbouring parishes; flower clubs and a local florist were taking part. They kindly allowed me to take photographs both during preparations and on the day. These images, Chartreuse has compiled into a video to commemorate this extraordinary and dazzling. Here it is for your delight:
Meanwhile, Amanda Cadabra and The Hidey-Hole Truth have been elected to be this month’s Giveaway by the Feathered Quill website. This is the home of the Feathered Quill Book Awards (Amanda Cadabra and The Strange Case of Lucy Penlowr had been submitted for the Adult Fiction Award for Mystery. I’ll hear more next year.) So if you know of someone who enjoys a free cozy mystery, then here is the link for a spin of the wheel for just the addition of your email address. (This is deleted at the end of the offer.)
The InterviewEarlier this month, I received news from journalist Katherine Russell that she had included an interview with me in an article about the experience of women in the publishing industry. I have to say that as an indie author, it has been a happy ride for me. However, Katherine certainly had some interesting questions, and, if you’d like to read the article, you can also hear from the four other authors who responded so thoughtfully.
This is all very well, I hear you say, but what about the next sequel in the Amanda Cadabra series? I have not been idle on that front, I promise you, and can supply supporting photographic evidence for your inspection, as you shall see.
Book 7 is probably the most intricate plot to date and came to me in odd excerpts, in no particular chronological order, and usually in the hours normally associated with rest. This meant a succession of scribbled notes, dialogue and narrative passages in my journal that had to be typed up. Until I found that reading my notes written bleary-eyed was more of a challenge than actually getting up and beavering away at the computer. After all seemed ready, each and every Word document had to be compiled into a single file. That file had to be printed out. All to the tune of … 50,000 words on almost 250 pages of A4 paper.
Next came the task of applying myself with marker pen, scissors and paperclips, to arrange the pages, passages, and conversations. I set them out on the floor in a semi-circle around me, into something approaching the order in which they appear in the book. This is a process that takes many hours. And this is what it looks like:
I have now completed the next stage but news of that next time. More to come: photos and a strange and wonderful journey on the trail of Amanda’s favourite fruit and more Sunken Madley inspiration. Until then, dear readers,
Happy September,
Holly
PS If you want to start the series now:
