Dripping Pudding – and Empty Bellies

(It wasn’t called Yorkshire Pudding back then.)

‘Careful, Elisabeth - that leg of mutton cost me best part of a day’s work.’
‘You call this a leg? It’s nothing more than scrag end. I suppose that’s all a day’s work is worth to you, is it?’
‘Elisabeth, my soldiers have less than this.’
‘Ah, but I’m sure there will be dripping pudding for all – and good gravy to go with it, to fill those empty bellies.’
Silence filled the room as the master pondered. With nine children to feed, dripping pudding was a good way of filling hungry stomachs. He was so sure Elisabeth had provisions in the pantry. She was an excellent housekeeper. But lately…
‘Elisabeth, I would like to inspect the larder and your accounts.’
Hollow laughter filled the room. ‘Master Oliver, what accounts? When did we ever keep accounts?’
‘Ah, I suppose you’re right. The less we have to carry, the better, but I think we are going to get through this.’
‘You mean to rule the country, as well as your little family, sir?’
‘So I do, and with God’s help…’
‘Are you really going to go ahead with it, father? Don’t you think the Royalists will stop you in your tracks?’
‘Richard, my son. Loose tongues! Do not mention my business again. Suffice to say that I’ve gathered men, more than enough.’
‘You mean you persuaded them gently.’
‘Richard!’
‘It’s true, mother. His soldiers and their families won’t go hungry tonight. They’ll be sharing mutton and dripping pudding with gravy. I saw father share out the provisions meant for us.’
‘Son, I was sure your mother would have a plentiful supply.’
‘You were wrong this time, sir. I’m afraid the children will go hungry tonight. A good heart won’t fill their stomachs.’ Elisabeth shook her head as a knock came at the door.
‘Will you answer that, Richard?’
‘Yes, father.’
Three women stood outside, soldiers’ wives all, holding out covered trays.
‘Give – and ye shall receive.’ They uncovered the trays. Roast mutton, dripping pudding and bread.

Master Oliver smiled at his wife. ‘The Cromwell's won’t go hungry this night either, wife. The Good Lord Doth Provide.’