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| Arriving at work in the rain, June 2024 |
Yesterday was the 14th of July, France’s fête nationale, and as I welcomed the morning visitors into the Château de Javarzay (and out of the rain), we were all in agreement, the weather this year is rotten.
“It’s more like autumn than summer, I’ve put my coat on to come out today” exclaimed one lady and another agreed, “I thought the weather this spring was bad, but summer is no better so far”.
It’s depressing, and the longer the gloom of cloudy days that block out the sunshine hang over us, the lower our moods are slipping. I know the blog has been quiet, aside from the book review tours I’ve signed-up to do, and this ongoing lack of sunlight has certainly played its part.
Water restrictions
Way back on 13th of October, when the sun still shone consistently for days in a row, we were put on water usage restrictions. The water table was at an all-time low and rain (or the lack of it) was on everyone’s lips. As if to prove that she had the upper hand, Mother Nature sent in the rain on 14th of October, and there are some days when it’s hard to remember a week without heavy rainy days, strong winds or storms since then. By Christmas, the water table was at a healthy level, by Easter, it was full to bursting and many local rivers flooded, the water rising to levels not seen in over forty years. There are still waterlogged areas in some of the local fields and the summer sunflower crops are late, the first flowers only just beginning to open.
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| The level of the Boutonne river, December 2023 |
We are now sun deprived and fatigued by the rapid growth rate of the grass and weeds that have become even more difficult to keep on top of. The cherry crop rotted on the trees. We didn’t bother with a potager as the weeds would have strangled the courgettes and keeping the tomatoes free of blight would have been more stressful than beneficial. It’s not all doom and gloom though, as the figs are of giant proportions and the plum crop is looking great.
Giant figs, July 2024
The year without a summer
There have been times when it feels like summer just isn’t going to arrive, but I learned recently of events in 1815 that caused 1816 to be known as “the year without a summer”, and the more I delved into the history books, the more grateful I became for our lives 108 years later.
In 1815, one of the deadliest volcanic eruptions recorded, occurred at Mt Tambora in Indonesia. As well as the devastation, death and destruction locally, a sulphur-filled ash cloud formed that caused disruption over part of the United States, Europe and China throughout 1816. This resulted in temperatures being colder than normal and more days recorded that were wet or with heavy cloud cover, than sunshine – something that feels very familiar this year, although we haven’t suffered with the summer frosts or snowfall that also hit them. The effects of this were catastrophic on the wheat, potato and grape harvests in Europe and it couldn’t have occurred at a worse time for France. Following the Napoleonic Wars (1799-1815), France and Europe were already economically struggling, so the poor harvests led to famine and illness, including a typhus epidemic. The death rate in 1816 was ten times higher than the normal average for that time. As is often the case when pushed to our limits, we realise how strong we are, and great things arise from the devastation.
The first bicycle
Many horses that families relied on for transport and to work the land had either died of starvation or were eaten to avoid the family starving, which led to Baron Karl von Drais inventing the Velocipede. These two wheeled, steerable, human-propelled machines were patented in 1818 and regarded as the first bicycle.
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| Cycling in the Charente, summer 2024 |
Frankenstein
Mary Shelley and friends spent the summer of 1816 in Switzerland and instead of relaxing in the sunshine, the weather kept them all indoors, searching for other things to do. The dark days of that summer inspired her to write Frankenstein, that was first published in 1818.
Jean-François Cail’s potato grater
I’d like to add another event to this list, that ties in nicely with my life and the museum at the Château de Javarzay. Part of our museum is dedicated to the incredible life of French industrialist Jean-François Cail. He was born in Chef-Boutonne in 1804 and finished school at the age of twelve, as there was no money to pay the fees. Most young men at that time would have become farm labourers, but as he turned twelve in 1816, it is no surprise this wasn’t what he wanted from life. Whilst looking for a metalwork apprenticeship he began making a potato grater, piercing holes in an iron sheet, that he sold at the weekly market. This simple device helped to make a potato flour that could be added to the wheat flour and used to make bread. With the poor wheat and potato crops that summer, anything that could reduce waste and help to put food on the table would have been lifesaving. From his humble beginnings he became a great industrialist, building railway locomotives and infrastructure, as well as modernising agriculture and running sugar refineries all over the world. Knowing what I now know about the year of no summer, I like to think he was more than a little bit influenced by this event.
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| Jean-François Cail museum, Château de Javarzay |
While I’m totally fed up with our lack of summer, at least we haven’t had to endure the hardships of those living through 1815 and 1816.
You can read more about the Château de Javarzay in these posts here:
