Susannah White looks back on the heyday of Devon’s violets
Susannah White recalls a Devon childhood marked by one evocative fragrance . . .
WHENEVER I see a delicate purple violet nestling beneath the hedgerows, I think about the past.
Dawlish in Devon, where I grew up, was famous for violet production, and it was this scent that pervaded my childhood.
I can remember splashing fragrant drops of Devon violet perfume from a glass bottle on to my clothes, handkerchiefs and pillowcases.
There are records of violets being shipped from Dawlish Station to London as early as 1868, and Linda Finlay’s historical novel “The Flower Seller” provides further insight into the lives of these early growers, who transported posies to the station using a donkey cart.
Most Devon farmers grew Princess of Wales (Odorata) violets. This variety has a deep blue flower and a strong fragrance, but some farmers also experimented with lavender-coloured Parma violets.
Violets are usually remembered for their scent and beauty, but they are also edible.
From 1817, a man called Ernest Jackson produced
Devon violet cachous (pastilles) which were meant to freshen breath and soothe sore throats.
From the early 1900s, many people enjoyed violet cream chocolates.
The heyday of the Devon violet industry came after World War I, when ex-servicemen were encouraged to plant smallholdings on the outskirts of Dawlish.
Over the 1920s and 30s their trade was booming, providing valuable employment for local men and women who worked as pickers and packers.
By the 1930s there were around 200 acres of violets growing near Dawlish, and we can only imagine how beautiful these fields must have looked when in bloom.
Posies of violets, packed in old corset boxes and separated by tailors’ trimmings, were loaded on to a special violet train which transported them from Dawlish Station to Covent Garden in London.
Even after the train had left the platform the scent of violets lingered along the seafront where the station is located.
When the posies reached London, they were sold by flower-sellers. Rich gentleman bought violets as gifts for sweethearts or for button-holes, while ladies pinned corsages of violets to their dresses.
My own memories are steeped in the aroma of Devon violet perfume.
When I was growing up, a wide range of perfumed products were available.
Some of these used synthetic ingredients to capture the scent of violets, but they always evoked a beautiful image of the actual flowers.
On my tenth birthday I was proud to receive a beautiful box of mauve notelets infused with Devon violet fragrance and tied together with a purple bow.
During World War II violet production declined – growers were ordered to dig up flowers and plant vegetables instead.
The war also affected the perfume industry, as violet scent was often displayed in pottery containers decorated with a red glaze.
This glaze contained iron, rationed during the war, so more glass bottles had to be produced.
In the 1950s and 60s the popularity of violets waned and the number of violet farms decreased.
In an attempt to counter this, locals held a Violet Ball, where a girl was elected as Violet Queen, complete with princesses.
This queen, elegantly costumed in the colours of violets, was driven through Dawlish town centre on a carnival float beautifully decorated with flowers.
Around 1974 my sister and I decided we wanted to take part in the Dawlish carnival ourselves, so my mother made us Devon violet dresses with purple net skirts and shiny green tunics.
She also pinned purple caps with green stalks at their peaks to our hair.
To complete the image, we rubbed a few drops of Devon violet perfume on our wrists before parading in front of the judges, holding out our petal skirts and wafting the scent of violets all around us.
It was great fun and, due to our mother’s sewing skills, we won first prize!
Sadly, I used up my violet-scented notelets years ago, but I kept the purple-ribboned box that they came in.
Nowadays, I use it to store violet memorabilia, including a bottle of perfume, a bar of scented soap and the photograph of my sister and me dressed up as flowers.
Every time I lift the lid to look inside, I inhale the faint scent of Devon violet perfume which still lingers within it. ■