Word Wenches

Punches and Pugilists—Random Fcts on Regency Boxing

Andrea here, offering yet another down-the-rabbit-hole research discovery today. I love research, as part of the fun is discovering things you didn’t know you wanted to know! Now, I am not a bellicose person, so I’m not at all interested in an actual boxing match. But as I needed to know a few specifics about ‘pugilism’ for a WIP scene, I had to research a few basic things.

And voila! Down the rabbit hole! Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I find the history of just about anything fascinating on an intellectual level, and as I happen to like sports (the other Wenches have dubbed me the ‘Wench Jock’) I actually found myself very interested in the resources I found. One of the most intriguing is “Fighting Words," an online exhibit from the Hesburgh Libraries at the University of Notre Dame, from which I have cheerful poached some of the following information.

The Art of Marbling

Andrea here, talking today about books. No surprise there—we do that a lot here at the Word Wenches! But my topic today isn’t about the words on the printed page, but rather the remarkable art of the decorative papers that were traditionally used to create beautiful cover and endpapers in book.
 
Alas, today it’s becoming a lost art, but I recently saw a marvelous exhibit at the Grolier Club (it’s a wonderful society dedicated to the arts of the book and book collecting) in New York City on the art of contemporary marbling, so I thought I would share some of the fabulous creations and give a short explanation of the history and process of marbled paper.

Wooden Spoons

Anne here, and today I'm blogging about a very humble, yet often beautiful implement many of us will have in out homes. I'm talking about wooden spoons.

I have quite a collection of wooden spoons. I love the look and the feel of them, but also the practicality of them. Wooden spoons don't scratch your pans or bowls, they don't conduct heat, they don't react with your food or leave harmful chemicals, or change the cooking temperature. The photo on the right is of some of my wooden spoons I keep in a metal egg basket. I keep it on the bench top beside the stove and I like it because I can see whichever spoon I want at a glance.

Some of my spoons are beautifully carved, some are simple but hand-made, and others are probably machine-made. Some were gifts from people who know I like lovely wooden spoons. A few are souvenirs.

Wooden spoons are pretty much universal and reflect the domestic life of ordinary people. They have a very long history, probably starting from the earliest times of human cooking, when sticks were used to stir or cook food. Spoons predate forks by thousands of years, going back as far as the Paleolithic Era. Wooden spoons have been uncovered alongside gold and silver versions in the tombs of ancient Egyptians, indicating that their owners saw them as useful enough to be considered essential even in the afterlife.

Ten Favourite ... Pieces of Viking Jewellery

Christina here with a new feature on Word Wenches, where we will list favourite objects in a category of our choice. Today I have chosen Viking jewellery, because I find it fascinating and beautiful to look at, and there is so much to choose from!

As part of my research into the Vikings, I have obviously visited an awful lot of museums to view artifacts from that era. I am always especially drawn to the jewellery and although it was incredibly difficult to choose, below is a list of my top ten favourites so far. The Vikings were superb craftsmen and I would happily own any/all of the following:-

No 1 has to be the ring that inspired the first of my Viking stories. It is kept at the Historical Museum in Stockholm, and as I’ve mentioned previously I own an exact replica of it. Some jewellery company was given the right to reproduce part of the treasures kept in Scandinavian museums and I was lucky enough to be given this by my parents. The ring is a stylised snake or dragon with two heads, and I love the intricate design as well as the overall simplicity.

An Amazon Adventure

A Return to the River Sea

By Mary Jo

The Mayhem Consultant likes a good warm weather winter getaway, so when I studied some possibilities, I saw that Viking was doing cruises between Manaus, Brazil and San Juan, Puerto Rico.  (The picture at the left was taken as we took a tender out to the Viking Sea when we arrived in Manaus at sunset.)

Manaus is on the mighty Amazon river, a thousand miles from the Atlantic Ocean.  In 2014 we did a cruise of the Upper Amazon coming from Peru and it was great.  We were on a very small ship and spent much of our time on skiffs going into the jungle to see sloths and giant lily pads.

The Amazon is the largest river in the world in terms of water flow.  (The Nile might be longer, but that question is debated.)  This cruise on the Brazilian Amazon was very different from the upper Amazon.

The Amazon watershed is vast and many rivers flow together to make a river so mighty that it has been called the river sea. (The image of the Amazon watershed on the left is from Wikipedia.)

Manaus is the capital of the Amazonas province, and it's smack dab in the middle of the Amazon rain forest.  Driving from the airport to the riverside, I was struck by how any land that wasn't covered with buildings or asphalt was being claimed by the jungle. Intense bursts of greenery were everywhere, such as the picture on the right.  I took that when we were on the bus to the river to show the rain forest exuberance.

At the height of the late 19th Century rubber boom, Manaus was one of the richest cities in the world and many great singers and dancers performed at the dazzling neo-classical opera house.(Picture of the facade is on the left.)

One reason I was intrigued by the idea of Manaus is because it's the setting for most of Eva Ibbotson's wonderful A Company of Swans, the tale of Harriet Morton, the shy, dance-loving daughter of a rigid Cambridge academic who runs away from home to join the chorus of a Russian ballet company

A Company of Swans is Eva Ibbotson at her witty, romantic best, and I couldn't resist the thought of visiting the opera house where Harriet and her friends performed.  But the end of the rubber boom was hard on the city, and there are still signs of poverty. 

The picture of the colorful banner on the right was taken from the opera house garden and a dark and rather rundown building is visible between the banner and the opera house. The opera house was closed for most of the 20th century, but has now reopened as a performing arts center, and the city has developed a sizable industrial economy.  It's also a major port for shipping on the river.

We got home just last night and I'm very travel fatigued, so I'll say more about our journey later.  For now, I'll suggest reading A Company of Swans so you can fall in love with Eva Ibbotson's magical Amazon!

Mary Jo

What a Quiz!

Nicola here. This weekend we took part in our local village charity quiz, fifteen teams trying to answer questions on everything from the names of Disney princesses to Olympic swimming champions. Amazingly, we won - as a team we knew a lot of obscure, random general knowledge! - plus we raised some money and enjoyed an evening out with friends and neighbours. It was all very good humoured, unlike some of the quizzes I've been involved with where professional teams got very irate if they didn't win!

I’ve always liked the word “quiz.” It's got a fun feel to it, and, being a writer, I've often wondered where the word originated from. I remember it featuring in Georgette Heyer, but as a description of a person rather than an activity. So I set out to find out more.

Perfume Unmasked

Pat here: As I may have said before, one of the fun parts of writing historical novels is the dive down research bunny holes. I’ve just spent a lovely few hours scrounging around in the insane details of British law, how magistrates were appointed and criminals brought to court, when there was essentially no police force in rural environs. And along with that, I followed a side trail into manorial law, an entire blog by itself. Suffice it to say, my hero, as heir to a manorial estate, is a law unto himself. He doesn’t like it much, though. (above photo is manor and accompanying village--not quite the one I imagine as I write but pretty anyway. See the manor way in the background?)

When In Rome

Anne here, and today I'm diving right back into the past — my past and actual ancient history — sort of.

If you'd asked me, I probably would have said that my fascination with the Roman era began with the superb book and TV series I Claudius — but I'd be wrong.

When I was a student, I fell heavily for the Asterix and Obelix comic book series by René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo. If you don't know it, it's a very funny satirical French series about a village of indomitable Gauls during the Roman Occupation. The stars are Asterix (the small smart one) and his friend the huge and not-too-bright Obelix, who delivers menhirs (giant stones). And of course their tiny dog, Dogmatix.

The Romans haven't been able to conquer this village because they have a secret weapon — a magic potion created by their druid, Getafix.  Yes, Get-A-Fix — the series is full of puns of this sort. The names are hilarious. There is a bard called Cacofonix, an ancient called Geriatrix, the chieftain's wife is called Impedimenta, the fishmonger is Unhygienix, and his wife is Bacteria. 

The Roman names are also hilarious — centurians with names like Armisurplus, Ignoramus, Crismus Bonus, Dubius Status and Nefarious Purpus, Vitriolix, an architect named Squareonthehypotenus and so-on. It's all beautifully silly and fun.

Whenever the Romans try to conquer them, the villagers line up for their potion and POW! Roman soldiers go flying in all direction. Only Obelix needs no potion — he's permanently invincible, having fallen into a cauldron of potion when he was a baby.

Pancake Day!

Nicola here, blogging about food (which I seem to do quite often!) Tomorrow is Shrove Tuesday, otherwise known as Pancake Day, Mardi Gras and various other names around the world. Like many festivals that have become popular celebrations, Shrove Tuesday originated in the Church calendar and is still observed as a religious festival by many people.

The name Shrove Tuesday comes originally from the word “shrive” meaning to absolve, as it falls just before the beginning of Lent. The name Mardi Gras, “Fat Tuesday” is more descriptive, however, as it gives a clue to the theme of eating up all the rich food you might then forsake during the 40 days of Lent, when people would be expected to fast and pray. Meat, eggs and various milk products were forbidden.

Water Wise

Water Wise Bermuda

by Mary Jo

Anne Gracie found this interesting article from Atlas Obscura which describes how the island of Bermuda has managed to survive and flourish with absolutely NO natural sources of fresh water: no streams, lakes or rivers.   Since the Mayhem Consultant and I spent a brief honeymoon there, Anne suggested that I might revise the original travel blog with an emphasis on how how the island has managed with no natural sources of drinking water.

Except one: Rainwater. 

On our previous visit, our guide pointed out the white limestone roofs of all the buildings and explained that they caught rainwater and channeled it into cisterns under the houses.  At the time, that was just one more interesting fact about the island, but the AtlasObscura article explains a good deal more about this brilliant but simple architectural feature that made it possible to support one of the greatest population densities in the world.  (About 65,000 people on a mere 21 square miles of land pieced together from 181 islets.) 

All roofs on the island are required to be made of limestone and designed for rain catch.  The island is actually made of limestone so when erecting a new building, the stone taken from the ground can be used for the inch thick roofs. And those roof are TOUGH.   Some island roofs have lasted since the 17th century. 

 

Anne Gracie found this interesting article from Atlas Obscura which describes how the island of Bermuda has managed to survive and flourish with absolutely NO natural sources of fresh water: no streams, lakes or rivers.   Since the Mayhem Consultant and I spent a brief honeymoon there, Anne suggested that I might revise the original travel blog with an emphasis on how how the island has managed with no natural sources of drinking water.

Except one: Rainwater. 

On our previous visit, our guide pointed out the white limestone roofs of all the buildings and explained that they caught rainwater and channeled it into cisterns under the houses.  At the time, that was just one more interesting fact about the island, but the AtlasObscura article explains a good deal more about this brilliant but simple architectural feature that made it possible to support one of the greatest population densities in the world.  (About 65,000 people on a mere 21 square miles of land pieced together from 181 islets.) 

All roofs on the island are required to be made of limestone and designed for rain catch.  The island is actually made of limestone so when erecting a new building, the stone taken from the ground can be used for the inch thick roofs. And those roof are TOUGH.   Some island roofs have lasted since the 17th century. 

 

Hair

Anne here and today I'm talking about hair — specifically hair in the Regency and Victorian eras, not just hairdos but exploring a few attitudes to hair.

Hair (on the head — not so much elsewhere) has long been regarded as a woman's glory, and for much of history most women grew it long. Short hair on a woman signified that either they had been ill and their hair cut off to conserve their strength, or that some other disaster had befallen them. In Ancient Greece when the burial of the dead in the ground began, widows would cut their hair and bury it with their husbands. Centuries later women accused of being Nazi collaborators had their heads forcibly shaved to shame and humiliate them. 

However in the Regency era it became very fashionable (if also a trifle daring) to chop off your hair.  Thus we have some young ladies looking like this. This is a portrait of Lady Caroline Lamb.

At the same time, other young ladies kept their long hair and their maids arranged their hair in elaborate updos. (If you want to watch a short video on how to create a regency-era hairdo, click here.) Only young girls wore their hair loose, as long, loose hair on a woman was supposed to carry sexual connotations. When she turned 15 or 16, a girl would put her hair up, signaling her new status as a young woman. Married women and older women often covered their hair for the same reason. See my post on turbans.

The appropriation of statues from Ancient Greece and Rome, and works of art brought back by travelers returning from the Grand Tour, sparked a fashion for the "classical look" with curls and hairstyles resembling those statues and drawings, with hair worn in a simple chignon, with curls and ringlets softening the face or trailing over the shoulder.

Jane Austen’s Career

Pat here:

The heroine of the Regency historical mystery series I’m currently scribbling is a novelist. She’s not poor, but she has expenses her income can’t meet. So I was interested in how much she might earn as a beginning writer. Of course, Jane Austen instantly came to mind.

It’s a fascinating bunny hole to dive down. Did you know writers had to pay for publication then? It didn’t necessarily have to be upfront, but one way or another, they paid for the printing. If one was well known and had an influential patron who could recommend your books so a group of people would pay in advance, one might serialize and pay as you go. Neither my heroine nor Austen were in that position.

The Long and Winding Rhodes

Andrea here, looking out on another very grey, gloomy and cold day here where I live. January has been a dreary month, so it’s no wonder that I’m in the mood to plot more foreign adventures to sunny climes, especially as this past November I took my first trip abroad since before the pandemic.
 
For me, travel—even if it's done in an armchair—always brightens the spirits. It sparks a sense of wonder as I explore new sights, sounds and tastes. And of course, it  lights a fire to the imagination if I get to visit place that I want to feature in my books. The November trip—an amazing cruise from Istanbul to Athens—was extra special because it did include a fascinating place that I have in mind for upcoming stories . . .

Fond of Fire

By Mary Jo

Taming fire was surely one of the most significant developments in human history.  Probably the discovery happened numerous times and numerous places, but the results were profound. Fire provided warmth, hot food, the ability to venture out into darkness, fire pottery and bricks.

It could also be a tool for long distance communication.  There's a marvelous scene in The Return of the King, the third Lord of the Rings movie, where signal fires are lit to summon the troops to battle.  It's breathtaking to watch the fires catch on distant peaks.

 

Heirs and Spares

Nicola here, talking slightly tongue-in-cheek about a certain trope in fiction, that of birth order. The concept of the “heir and the spare” is something that has been discussed quite a lot lately and it’s a theme that those of us who read historical romance are very familiar with. The noble family is desperate to have an heir (usually male, since women can’t inherit the majority of British titles) and that person will be expected to carry on the traditions of the family, inherit the title and any entailed fortune that goes with it. They will be in line to take the responsibility for the crumbling stately pile and if it really is crumbling, find an heiress whose inheritance fortunately comes from trade or some other source, to prop it up. It feels like a heavy weight for the heir to carry. The emphasis here is on responsibility and continuity. However, there’s a snag. What if something happens to the heir? Then you will need a spare – two boys at least – to ensure the continuation of the family line. So, to be on the safe side, most families try not to stop at one.

Legitimate or not?

Anne here, writing with a sense of frustration — and no doubt preaching to the converted. The frustration is caused by the number of times I've come across books where an unmarried prince (or a king or a duke or any nobleman, actually) discovers he has a son, because some years ago he slept with a woman and unknowingly got her pregnant. Fast forward several years and he comes across this child and his mother, and decides to marry her and make the child his heir. 

Noooooooo!  I want to shriek. Actually I'm probably likely to stop reading at that point because it shows what I think is unforgivable ignorance of the laws of inheritance — historical laws particularly, but the law remains pretty much the same for contemporary titles of nobility.

These days for most people illegitimacy is no longer even an issue; nevertheless, especially in the past, it was a huge issue. An illegitimate son born to a noble father could not inherit his father's title, regardless of the child and father's wishes.

An illegitimate son born to a king might be given a title—for instance on reaching adulthood, the illegitimate sons of Charles II were given dukedoms, along with estates and wealth, and their own sons, if legitimate, could inherit their title, but they could never aspire to be King.

Because that would create chaos. Until recent years there was no way of proving paternity, so the closest men could come to ensuring they had true heirs of their body was through marriage. Of course, marriage was no guarantee of fidelity, which was why women were frequently 'cabin'd, cribbed, confin'd.'

The Edible Yule Log

The Bûche de Noël

by Mary Jo

Yule logs have a long tradition in Northern European winter festivals, probably a fusion of winter solstice customs with Christian Christmas celebrations.  Traditionally a large log would be dragged into the house and lit on Christmas Eve and it was supposed to burn for at least three days, or better yet, till the New Year. 

This made a great deal of sense when household gathered around a hearth, but as times changed and hearths were replaced by wood burning stoves, what became of the Yule log?

Why, it became a cake!  In 19th century France, the Yule log tradition was transformed into the magnificent Bûche de Noël, a delicious roll cake designed to look like a Yule log.  The filling can be chocolate, vanilla, or perhaps chestnut cream.  (I always go for chocolate. <G>)  The icing is often chocolate but can a pale butter cream.  In either case, the icing is scored with a knife or fork to create the appearance of bark. 

The log is often decorated. There may be holiday items like little Clauses, but I like the traditional bright berries and meringue mushrooms designed to make the log look more foresty. 

I'd heard of Bûche de Noël cakes, but didn't meet up with them in person until fairly recently.  I was delighted when they appeared at my local gourmet market, saddened when the market no longer brought them in, and was ecstatic when a French bakery opened nearby and began to offer the real thing.  They were a stunner at Christmas Eve parties and disappeared until only smear of crumbs and icing were left.

More recently, they have started to appear in multiple markets, a happy benefit of globalization of food.  The one I got this year was less elaborate, but it still tasted very, very good!

Have you experience a Bûche de Noël?  If so, what did you think of it?  Did you imagine ancient northern forest--or was it mostly about the chocolate? <G> Tell me about it!

Mary Jo, with one large slice of log preserved in the freezer to surprise and delight later.

Wondrous Memories

2022 is hurtling into history, and given events, will no doubt make a huge splash in future history books. My life wasn’t quite so momentous as world events, but our trip to Israel and Egypt is definitely one for my books, both fictional and real. What are your year’s wondrous memories? Do you have plans for more in 2023?

Here’s to peace, love, and joy for all in the new year!

Cats and Christmas Trees!

Cats and Christmas trees

By Mary Jo

Cats have been around since time immemorial and Christmas trees became popular in the mid-19th century, when Victoria and Albert introduced the German custom of decorating trees into the British royal palaces and from there to most of the English speaking world. (In other words, they went viral. <G>)

And if Victoria had a cat, it probably climbed her tree.  But cameras, especially easy to use cell phone cameras, have really helped cats in Christmas trees become a true internet meme. (The image of the black and fallen tree is from Facebook and I think of it as "My work here is done. <G>)

At least a couple of times when I was a kid in our farmhouse, cats brought down our tree  and very messy it was. That hasn't happened in many years because tree stands are much more stable now.

I've had a few cats who were Christmas tree climbers, and many of them enthusiastically bat at low hanging ornaments.  ("Look, they hung all these nice play toys just for me!")

The cat below, right, is the Mayhem Consultant's cat, Reggie the Rascal.  Don't believe that innocent look.  He has climbed trees and he loves scooting up tree decorating ladders, then prowling the valances.

But mostly my cats are content to lounge underneath and possibly check the tags to see who gets what.  (That's PandaMax on the left, doing exactly that.)

 

The number of jokes about cats climbing trees and sometimes pulling trees them over got me to thinking about pets in Christmas trees in general.  Cats are small and agile and have claws designed for climbing.

Probably a ferret would also be a climber, but they aren't that common as pets. Parakeets and other pet birds can fly across a room and land on a branch and perhaps cause some damage if they're larger types like macaws. 

Dogs aren't built for climbing, but a friend of mine assures me that the enthusiastic wagging tail of a Labrador retriever can reap a serious harvest of ornaments!

Thus, the number one rule for pet owners who put up trees it to PUT UNBREAKABLE ORNAMENTS ON THE LOWER BRANCHES.

We have a nice collection of lightweight, hard to break plastic apples that look pretty and have a  high tolerance for being knocked across a room.  (They make a distinctive rattling sound as they roll merrily across a hardwood floor at 2:00 am.

So the bottom line is that with decorating care it's possible to have both pets and trees which is good for those of us who love both.

Do you have experiences with pets and Christmas trees?  Tell us about them!

Mary Jo

Nicola on the Grand Tour!

Nicola here. Back in the 18^th century it was considered part of a gentleman’s education to take the “Grand Tour,” a trip through Europe with Italy as the main destination. The young, upper-class man of means and rank would set out, accompanied by a long-suffering tutor or family member, on this educational rite of passage and would return home supposedly with a greater understanding of classical culture and often with some works of art tucked under their arm.  The phrase “bear-leader” that you come across in Georgette Heyer originated with the poor tutor/chaperon/guardian who had to try to keep the youth out of trouble and instill some knowledge in him!

With the advent of mass tourism in the nineteenth century, these itineraries were opened up to the rest of us; women, families and those without a title (!) who would take a guide book along rather than a tutor. So, when we (my husband and I, to quote the late Queen) planned a holiday to Italy to see the Roman ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum, we decided to take in at least a few other elements of the Grand Tour on our way - a journey through the Alps, some shopping in Milan and a stopover in Paris!

Support Your Local Drug Dealer

I’m pretty sure I’ve started writing a Regency soap opera. I’m not at all sure if this is a marketable direction, but my Muse is temperamental. After the pandemic isolation, she became a ghost of herself—which may be why I ended up writing about ghosts. But I wanted to go back and try my hand at writing straight Regency historicals again—and soap opera is what happened. I’m calling it a mystery, but that was only after I went back in and added clues and eventually came up with a dead body.

On Darkness

Anne here, pondering darkness. But first, a little story from my past. As a teacher, I took many kids away on camp. Many schools these days site their "camps" in warm, comfortable buildings, but some of the schools I worked at couldn't afford that, so we pitched a motley array of borrowed tents on the ground, under the sky. (The photo below was taken by my friend Fiona McArthur.)

Many of those kids had never been out in "the bush" as we call it here, generally meaning untamed country, the wilderness, often national parks, and early on, I discovered something that quite shocked me.

Having grown up in cities, and often on high-rise housing estates, the concept of the dark of night was completely unknown to the students. Wherever they went at home, there were security lights, and even where there weren't any (or they were broken), the general light pollution of the city ensured that they could still see, more or less.

Far from the city, camping out in "the bush" they were away from street lights, there was no light pollution and, if the moon was hidden by cloud, it was dark — completely, utterly dark. And for some of them, that was unexpected and quite frightening.

Atmosphere and Memory

Nicola here, pulling up a Wench classic blog from a few years ago as I’m travelling at the moment, far from my laptop!

Today I’m musing about the atmosphere of particular places. I’m taking us back a long way in English history, beyond the Regency, beyond those ubiquitous Tudors, to a time before the Norman Conquest when England was split into the Anglo Saxon seven kingdoms. The village where I live has a recorded history that goes back to this distant time – there are actual documents from the era relating to events that happened in this very place over a thousand years ago and I find that mind-blowing. As I walk along the footpaths and over the hills I frequently imagine how it might have looked in that time and try to see all the way back through the mists of history to think myself back there.  I can be pretty successful at this; when it’s quiet and I’m standing on the Ravens’ Fort and all I can hear are the birds singing and I feel the breeze on my face I can persuade myself, for a split second anyway, that I have travelled in time. Then an aeroplane flies over and I think perhaps not after all.

Certain places have a very strong sense of atmosphere. I’ve been to battlefields such as Flodden and Culloden where the whole landscape feels as though it is steeped in the bloodshed and suffering of the men who died there. I’ve visited historic houses that feel imbued with the personalities of the people who lived there, and I’ve wandered happily through gardens that feel peaceful or visited buildings that have a joyous atmosphere. How much of this is down to the emotional memory of the place and how much is down to my imagination, I cannot say. As writers and readers of historical fiction I think we all step into that other world. One of my books looks at “stone tape theory” which was an idea popular in the 19^th century and later in the 1970s that places retain emotional memories in their very fabric. This is one theory said to account for ghostly sightings. It’s an intriguing idea around which to build a timeslip novel.

Dolls' houses

Anne here. A few weeks ago, Christina blogged about Tiny Things, which I also enjoy. Recently I've been watching one of those "reality" TV shows where people compete to be the best at something — you know, like those cooking shows. In general I don't like that kind of show — putting people under time stress to make stuff and every week someone is a loser until finally only one "winner" is left. But despite my misgivings, I watched this one because it was all about miniatures and dolls' houses. It was a UK show called The Great Big Tiny Design Challenge and you can see a bit of it here.

I had to admit, I found it fascinating — I've loved miniatures and dolls houses since I was a little girl. But in the end, I found the show frustrating. I would have liked less frantic competitive making, and a slower program that really showed you what each person was doing — perhaps sharing and explaining some techniques. But I suppose that would only appeal to people interested in making miniatures themselves, whereas a competition with winners and losers is no doubt more appealing to a wider audience.

As far as I know, dolls' houses have only been around since the 17th century and then, in Europe, they were originally made not as play objects, but as teaching tools, intended for mothers to instruct their young daughters in how to run households. It was also to show off wealth, as the girls learning these lessons were practicing to be the lady of the house — not the cook or one of the servants.

In the 19th century, the concept of childhood changed (at least for the children of the rich) where play came to be regarded as natural and desirable for children. (The children of the poor kept working for a living, just like children in poor countries today.) The 19th century, particularly the Victorian era, is when dolls' houses came into their own. As well, industrialization meant that they became more affordable for more people. This period is still one of the most popular for miniature makers and dolls' house creators.

East Meets West

Andrea here. As you may have noticed, some of the Wenches have recently been gallivanting around the globe, as the world begins to open up to exploration. I’m adding to the exotic travelogue, as I’ve just returned from an amazing journey through the ancient treasures of the Mediterranean, starting in Istanbul and ending in Athens.

Istanbul has always been at the top of of my To-Do List, as its exotic allure of East meets West, and its place as  such a special crossroads of history have always fascinated me. So I’m going to talk a little bit about the city, and my whirlwind impressions, though that won’t begin to do justice to the rich tapestry of its past and present.

One of the pleasures about taking a cruise on a Viking ship (the modern-day cruise line, NOT the longboat of one of Pia's fabulous heroes!) are the resident historians, who give evening talks on each destination. One of the basic points our professor made was that the city’s has three distinct “personalities,” reflected in its three different names throughout history. Though the site has been inhabited since Neolithic times, the first great city was said to be founded by by a Greek king named Byzas around 660 BC and became known as Byzantium. (Its acropolis was on the site of today’s Topkapi Palace. (Left: Hagia Sophia; Right: Islamic astrolabe from the Museum of Islamic Arts.)

 

Islands in the Sun

By Mary Jo

A week ago, I told you about the first part of our recent cruise vacation, which described London and the shipboard experience.  Today I want to talk about our three ports of call while we were still in European waters. 

Originally we were scheduled to stop in Tenerife in the Canary Islands, then Madeira, then Bermuda when the ship was most of the way across the Atlantic.  But Bermuda's landing requirements were so complicated and difficult that the cruise line canceled Bermuda and added in Lisbon as the first stop out of Britain.

Lisbon

Great idea!  We visited Lisbon once before on our way to cruising the Douro River in Northern Portugal, the cruise that inspired my book Once a Soldier.  I remember it as a hilly city of broad boulevards, which were a result of a devastating earthquake in 1755.  The destruction was vast, and much of the city was rebuilt according to more modern principles.

 

A History of Stripes

Nicola here. A couple of weeks ago I visited the Whitchurch Silk Mill. Built in 1813, on land owned by Winchester Cathedral, it was built by the Hayter family and then developed by William Maddick. Through the 19^th and early 20^th century it produced silk, providing work for the local populace and going through some hard times and some good like many small businesses. From 1911 the mill wove silk for Burberry, producing 22 different colours of silk lining for their famous raincoats. In the 1980s after falling into disrepair it was restored as a working museum using traditional machinery and methods.

Visiting the museum was completely fascinating. Weaving silk is a very complicated business but it was so much easier to understand when you could follow the different steps in the process and even have a go on the silk looms yourself. It was also a real insight to see what working conditions were like in the Victorian age – some of the child workers started at nine years old!

The Whitchurch mill has always specialised in stripes and there was a very interesting exhibition on show about striped designs and their history. Stripes in
nature have long been an inspiration for designers. Stripes can be used as both camouflage and as warning. Both prey – zebras, for example – and predators such as tigers, have stripes that allow them to blend in. Snakes, various insects and even badgers have them to scare the predators away.

London Calling!

London calling!

by Mary Jo

Did you know that cruise ships migrate like birds?  In summer they flock to Europe, cruising from Nordic regions to the Mediterranean and more.  In autumn, they turn and head to the Western hemisphere, particularly the Caribbean.  They do this because tourists follow the sun, and so do the cruise ships.

This means that ships do repositioning cruises twice a year, spending days crossing the Atlantic with very few ports of call.  This is great if you like lots of lazy days at sea and the Mayhem Consultant and I do.  Hence we cruised from Southampton in England to Miami, with three stops in Europe and seven glorious sea days. 

 

Saddle up!

Andrea here, My current work-in-progress—a fictional biography of Lady Hester Stanhope—has called for me to think about riding a horse—or more specifically, about how ladies of the Regency era rode a horse. Lady Hester was a “neck and leather” rider, which in Regency cant means she was a superb horsewoman who loved galloping at a devil-may-care pace across the countryside.

And that was no easy feat, considering that it was considered scandalous for a lady to ride astride. Lady Hester, who broke  most every rule in the book regarding feminine deportment, didn’t pay much attention to that limitation. And the fact that she had a special skill for breaking ornery horses to saddle made the neighboring gentlemen very willing to turn a blind eye on her wearing breeches and boots because she helped them with their difficult mounts.

But most ladies of the era didn’t possess such skills, or such practical neighbors, and so were consigned to perching themselves on a side-saddle. So I thought I would do a quick dive down the research rabbit hole to look at the history of this contraption.

Interview on The Winter Garden!

"Remember, remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot …”

Christina here and tomorrow is Guy Fawkes’ Day here in the UK so what better time to interview Wench Nicola about her new book THE WINTER GARDEN? It was published last week and is based on the infamous Gunpowder Plot that Mr Fawkes was involved with in 1605. He was part of a group of Catholics who had decided to kill the King by blowing up Parliament, but they were betrayed and ultimately their plot failed. I was lucky enough to read an ARC of this story and it is absolutely fabulous! I seriously couldn’t put it down – if you’d like to read my review you can find it here, but I’d recommend you read it for yourself!

Here’s a short summary:-

1605: Anne Catesby fears for her family. Her son, the charismatic Robert, is secretly plotting to kill the king, placing his family in grave danger. Anne must make a terrible choice: betray her only child or risk her family’s future.

Present Day: When her dreams of becoming a musician are shattered, Lucy Brown takes refuge in her family’s ancestral home in Oxfordshire, once home to Robert Catesby, the gunpowder plotter. There she starts to have strange visions of a woman in Tudor dress, a woman whose story runs parallel to and then converges with her own. Lucy is determined to find out more about this apparition and in doing so uncovers a chain of secrets that have been hidden for centuries…

Regency Speak

I have spent the last couple of years writing contemporary mysteries and before that, Victorian romances. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve attempted Regency cant. I have an entire thesaurus of words, but my head simply isn't picking up the speech patterns that allow boxing cant or catty insults the way it used to do. Worse yet, the hero is American, and now I have to wonder how much of Regency-speak an American might use. Or a spinster who spends more time in books than society. Oh, and then there are the Frenchmen and the country folk. . .