The Cornflowers of Mellowdene

It is a Cornflower tradition that, when a child reaches a particular age, they are celebrated with a siorda - a recognition of their official inclusion into the inner family. I don't fully understand it but that isn't really a concern - it is part of the travelling community's history, and although this particular branch of the Cornflower family have left the nomadic life, young Brady was due to be honoured.

Actually, he is physically a little young for the siorda - the Pause currently delaying our Sylvanian ageing - but it was considered unfair that he suffered the delay, waiting an unspecified period. His parents - Wester and Betsy Cornflower - argued that he had waited long enough and that Brady had mature outlook for his age. The current Cornflower elder - Wester's brother Trafalgar - agreed and a date was set.

Why am I telling you this? Well, putting aside that the Cornflowers are distantly related to the Buttergloves, Cecile is personally involved because she has made the celebratory siorda cake.

Wester and Betsy had arrived at Butterglove House to collect the cake, and as it was an opportunity for a minor family gathering, Trafalgar and his wife Athaliah had come from their shared home with my brother Newton. They had brought tiny Nugget so that he could play with Russell. 

 

In addition, Wester's sister Tabitha - her husband being my cousin Jonathan - had crossed the Field separating their home from ours.

 

Everyone admired Cecile's cake and then we settled down, Nugget and Russell entertaining us with the noises that - we were convinced - were their own private language. 

 

Small talk over, Brady was the first proper subject of conversation. But it evolved.  

o 0 O 0 o

"His grandfather would have been proud of him," said Wester. "He has that curiosity of wanting to know what's around the corner."

"Aye," said Trafalgar, "he would have made an excellent scout in our travelling days."

 

"Is he still infatuated with the forest?" asked Tabitha. "I remember a couple of years ago you saying he kept disappearing into there."

 

 

"Isn't that dangerous?" said Cecile. "Tall Tree Forest has a reputation."

Trafalgar harumphed. "It's an odd place, granted. But not dangerous."

Betsy nodded. "I was a little concerned at first. The forest is so dense there was a fear he might get lost, but we soon realised that the odd aspect of the forest actually prevents that happening."

"That's right," said Wester. "Walk a number of yards and one loses all sense of direction but if you keep going, you find yourself walking out of the forest, not too far from where you entered."

 

Trafalgar smiled. "Odd, as I said. I know there are crazy tales about it being haunted, some even claiming a hint of distant voices, but branches creak in the wind, leaves rustle, and woodland creatures aren't always silent in their activities. No. The oddness is that you can't pass through it. I like to think of the forest protecting us from getting lost."

"And that's why I have no fears about Brady playing there," said Betsy. 

 

"I don't see the attraction," said Athaliah, looking up from Nugget and Russell who were entertaining each other by puffing out their cheeks and blowing air at each other. Each time they made a noise they would giggle.

 

"Well, he thinks he might be able to understand the forest if he can map out how entry and exit points relate."

I listened to this with interest. I was aware of a mild superstition of the forest. You may recall Vivienne Honeydew being a little frustrated about her son Button venturing there. Accompanied by Brady, now I think of it. I also remember Merlin's description of "The Year of the Rabbit" when Mellowdene's four founding families couldn't pass through the forest and had to circumnavigate it further inland.

"So how did the Cornflowers originally reach Mellowdene?" I asked. "Not through the forest, I'm guessing."

 

"You know our family used to live in wagons," said Wester.

 

Sylvester Cornflower with his five children

 

I nodded and he continued.

 

 "Our father drove our wagon through the pass.You probably know the one. It's an established road separating Tall Tree Forest from other, less unusual woodland."

"Right." I suspected that this would be the same route taken as the four families, now developed into a more hospitable road. A thought occurred. "What prompted your father to take that road? Do you know?"

Trafalgar raised his brows. "Have we never said? Hmm, maybe not. I suppose you need to understand our father."

 

Tabitha smiled sadly. "He was a lovely dad. After we lost mum he took care of the five of us but it became difficult as we grew, packed into one wagon."

 

"It's true," Wester added. "Sylvester Cornflower was the best dad. He had travelled all his life but he knew that he couldn't care for us properly whilst we were on the road. He'd heard of of Mellowdene and by chance we were near to a road that led here. As children we didn't fully understand his reasons at the time, but his decision to settle made sense. As newcomers we were welcomed by some lovely people. That helped the change in our lifestyle."

 

The word "newcomers" sent my mind into another direction. The Umberhounds had been referred to in those terms after their arrival into Sylvania. Some robed figures had brought them to our shores - the figures I now suspected were of the Sylvanian Order, should Mulder Honey-Fox's theory be correct. Had Sylvester Cornflower been such a newcomer? 

 

I wanted to be tactful in my questioning, and an affectionate Russell gave me time to shape my words.. 

"So - how far can you trace back the Cornflower family tree? Do you know - or would the travelling make that difficult?"

"Oh, there are many generations of Cornflowers," said Trafalfar. "I couldn't name them, but we go back to a time in the Sylvanian middle ages when we separated from the Buttergloves."

"That long ago?" Well, that scrapped the Sylvanian Order idea. In any case, how could it have been true if our two families are connected? I felt like an idiot.

 

"There's even documentary evidence of our connection, dear, distant cousin!" Trafalgar laughed. 

  

"Really?"

"It's stored in our out building. I suppose we should really donate it to the Hansel Museum. Keep it safe and consolidate our Mellowdene connection while we're at it. Merlin would have a field day. What do you think, Tabitha, Wester?"

The two siblings agreed, Wester saying, "It's a family decision so we should ask Boswell and Godolphin but I'm sure they'd be happy with that."

o 0 O 0 o

They were. The museum received a tapestry and some parchment documents. 

Merlin was, as expected, excited. He suspected the tapestry depicted the time when the Cornflower family separated from the Buttergloves, perhaps even recording the time they took the Cornflower name. It wasn't local history; it was beyond Mellowdene - possibly a significant medieval event.

"What about the documents?" I said, once Merlin had accepted them from Trafalgar and had given them a brief but efficient examination. "How have they survived given their age? Trafalgar said they'd been stored in an out house and before that they would have been stuck somewhere in their wagon."

"I understand your curiosity, Jack. It's a good question. Kelvin Waters has the original copy of some early Mellowdene journals that wouldn't survive handling by most paws. We have copies, but Kelvin won't release the originals from their sealed case."

"So, what about these parchments? They are much older aren't they?"

"Oh yes. But they've been kept away from sunlight and preserved in shallow boxes lined with keepmint. Have been for most of their existence. The same preservative that Kelvin now has in his case and that we use in the library. It prevents moisture damage and rot."

 

I had forgotten about the gentle fresh odour that pervaded in Mellowdene County Library. The library shelves were treated to supposedly eliminate any fusty smells from old books but I hadn't really considered that this herb had another purpose. That said, the old-fashioned name keepmint was a giveaway.

"That's fortunate, then," I said. "What about the contents? Is there lots of useful information?"

Merlin scrunched his muzzle. "Sadly, there's not a lot I can understand. Most is written in charak, a language used by some travellers. We'd need someone to translate."

"Don't any of the Cornflowers read it?"

"Not really. Sylvester Cornflower couldn't read and he only had a rudimentary knowledge of the contents. His wife was more literate, and the tradition was that she would teach charak to their children when they reached their siorda day. But that didn't happen. None of the children were old enough when their mother passed."

"That's sad," I said, thinking of our own dear mother. "Does that mean you can't learn anything about the Cornflower history until you find a translator?"

"Trafalgar knows a smattering from a few things Sylvester revealed, but by and large, the documents are a mystery - for now. Well, except for the oldest two. There is a sort of certificate and an accompanying parchment. That was before the Cornflowers fully adopted the travellers' way of life."

"And you've read them?"

"Yes. And they are interesting."

I saw a twinkle in his eyes. I suspected 'interesting' was an understatement. He continued by summarising the contents of the medieval parchment.

"There was a largeish number of Butterglove rabbits getting ready to settle in a calm strip area where a number of other critters were establishing a community. A few of the Buttergloves were uncertain about the location, hearing of nearby swamps appearing from nowhere. There followed a difference of opinion. 

"They couldn't agree on a compromise. During the discussions a caravan of 'flower travellers' passed through the area. One of those who didn't want to settle - Jolean Butterglove - realised that there would never be an agreement with those who did wish to remain, and asked to join the flower travellers. The travellers agreed, but a prerequisite was that those that joined would adopt a new surname - that of a flower - in order to show commitment. Cornflowers grew nearby, so those Buttergloves who left became known by that name."

He showed me the certificate.

I stared at my brother. Was he thinking what I was thinking? That the descendants of the Buttergloves abandoned by the Cornflowers were our direct ancestors? The ones who became some of the Mellowdene founders?

"Was... was the community... the one the Cornflowers left... was it named?"

Merlin shook his head and came out from behind his work desk. 

 

"No. And I suspect the charak documents won't name it either, being more concerned with the travelling life and traditions."

I nodded. I began to air my disappointment but stopped. Why was I bothered? I wasn't a historian. Maybe it was because evidence of Buttergloves living in a medieval era did give a feeling of satisfaction and, of course, it would have been nice to know more. But's let's not be greedy - what I'd already learned should be enough. The feeling that we were an established part of the world was something worth smiling about. I felt the corner of my mouth lifting.

Merlin grinned. 

Confirmation that it was good enough. My brother was happy.

o 0 O 0 o