Word Wenches

Celebrating The Shamrock on St Patrick's Day!

Nicola here! Today is St Patrick’s Day, the feast day of the patron saint of Ireland, and if you’ve read Wench Susan’s post earlier in the week you will already be in the mood to celebrate with a pint of Guinness and some delicious soda bread!

Whilst the harp is the official symbol of Ireland, found everywhere from Guinness glasses to official coinage, the shamrock is another symbol that is as widely recognised and popular. It is said that this little sprig of green was important to the druids and that St Patrick used it to explain the concept of the trinity in his teaching, as it has three leaves.

The original shamrock has been identified as being either the lesser or the white clover, although down the centuries there has been a lot of discussion amongst botanists as to what genus of plant it actually was. Normally it has just the three leaves; if you find one with four then that is especially lucky! References to it in medieval literature refer to beautiful fields of it in flower – there is a story that St Brigid decided to stay in County Kildare when she saw a meadow clothed in glorious shamrock/clover flowers.

Simple Pleasures Then and Now

Nicola here! Today I’m musing on a few of our favourite things and whether our Regency heroes and heroines would have valued the same pleasures that we do.

A recent poll of 2000 people aimed to make a list of all the simple things in life that make us happy. At number 1 was one of my own favourites, a freshly made bed. I confess I iron all my bedding because I enjoy the lovely cool, smooth feel of freshly laundered bed linen so much. I don’t enjoy ironing at all but it’s worth it for that moment when you slide between the sheets (or between the sheet and duvet) and smile with pleasure.

In the past I suspect that the enjoyment of beautifully laundered bed linen must have been the privilege of the rich, those people who had a laundry and maids to deal with all their washing, drying and ironing. If you were the laundry maid you probably fell into your own bed at the end of the day so exhausted that you didn’t even notice the state of the bedclothes!

A Romance Readers Convention

Anne here, writing from the Australian Romance Readers Convention in Canberra, the capital city of Australia. And if you want to know why on earth I'm dressed like a slightly demented 1920's dowager and holding a glass trophy — you'll have to read on.

Canberra is a small city, halfway between the two largest cities of Australia, Sydney and Melbourne and is more or less a government city. It was created from scratch — a century ago there was nothing but a few farms and bushland here — as a compromise between competitive states — none of whom wanted another state to be the centre of the new federal government. 

But enough of that history — this was a Romance Readers Convention, and for a full three days I've talked nothing but books and romance and writing, meeting authors and readers from all over Australia, as well as from New Zealand, the US and Canada.

Travelling the roads of Regency England with Louise Allen!

Nicola here, and today I am thrilled to welcome Louise Allen back to the Word Wenches! As well as being a hugely popular and award-winning author of historical romance, Louise is a lover of London history and especially the Georgian period, and is the author of Walking Jane Austen's London. Today Louise is talking about how her research has led to her writing two other non-fiction books that are a must for both authors and history-lovers alike: Stagecoach Travel and Following the Great North Road. I can recommend both books very highly indeed and it's a great pleasure to hear from Louise about the background to the books.

Over to Louise:

One of the joys of writing historical romance is the research – and, of course, it is one of the worst temptations as a displacement activity. You look up which inns served the stagecoach route to Bath for one sentence in the novel and the next thing you know it is four hours later, you’ve bought a book of stagecoach timetables (expensive), an 1812 route map (even more expensive) and you are side tracked into wondering what the food was like at the inns in Newbury.

Sailing the Southern Seas

by Mary Jo

Serious birdwatchers keep life lists of all the varieties of birds they've observed, and I've known travelers who keep track of all the countries they've visited.  I don't actually keep count, but I've certainly noticed that if you want to build up the list of countries you've visited, the Caribbean is a great place to travel.  So many islands, most of them sovereign nations, and each with its own history and identity.

Which is how I was able to add four new countries to my list on our recent cruise on the Wind Star, a combination sailing and motor yacht that carries only 148 passengers.  (It was the first ship of the Windstar Cruise line, so it can get confusing. <G>)  

I've been on cruise ships of all sizes from the Queen Mary II down to a sailboat with only the Mayhem Consultant and me and the British couple who sailed the boat, and I can honestly say that all were well run and very enjoyable.  But I have a particular fondness for small ships, whether Windstar or Viking or Lindblad/National Geographic or UniWorld.  I'm never keen on crowds, plus on a smaller ship, it's easier to get acquainted with interesting fellow passengers, and easier to get on and off.  

We left Barbados at dusk on a Saturday afternoon, one of six cruise ships docked in a U shape.  The ships peeled off one by one.  We were the smallest.  It's usual to have a "sail away" party on deck with music and free drinks as the ship heads out to sea.  This sail away was special because once we were well away from the island, the sails were unfurled while the most wonderful music was played.  I had to find out what it was, and discovered it was Vangelis's theme for the movie 1492: The Conquest of Paradise.  Here's a video playing the theme with powerful images of the movie intercut with images of Vangelis and other musicians as they played.  It was REALLY great theater!  My all time favorite sail away. (The sails are motorized, or it would take a much larger crew to sail the ship.)

We visited Barbados, St. Lucia, Grenada, and St. Vincent and the Grenadines.  (That last country could be a rock music group. <G>) All had been British colonies.  (Map to the left by KMusser, from Wikipedia.  The islands we visited were all in the lower right corner.  Click on the map to make it larger.)  

 

As an Anglophile by inclination and profession, I love seeing the British elements that have gone into shaping each individual country.  (The same is true in Bermuda, Jamaica, and the British Virgins, other British influenced islands I've visited.)  Typically they are divided into parishes that are formed around the Anglican churches built by the early settlers.  They have names like St. Michael's Parish or St. Peter's.  (Almost always male saints, but there was a St. Lucy's on Barbados, I think.  <G>)

This picture from Barbados shows a common theme on all these islands:  Cannons and fortresses for defense, since all these islands were fought over, not infrequently changing colonial masters.  I've already blogged about how the Caribbean islands were passed around so I won't go into that here. Suffice it to say that the British ended up with a lot of the islands in the Southern Caribbean, the French acquired islands such as Martinique and Guadeloupe,  and the Dutch landed several, also.  

Many of these islands became independent in recent decades because the desire for freedom is powerful, but small countries can be on shaky economic ground.  The ones we visited all retained helpful ties with the UK, and they largely rely on tourism.  

But each island is unique and delightful.  This picture was taken from a grand mansion on St. Lucia, a ruggedly volcanic island.  We visited the mansion, owned by one of the island's most powerful families, when doing a tour of the island.  (With most cruises, there are a variety of land excursions you can take.  Sometimes free, more often at an additional charge.  The Mayhem Consultant and I tend to choose overview tours that show us a fair amount of a place.) 

Usually the Wind Star would leave St. Lucia at 3:00 in the afternoon to head for her next destination. But THIS was SuperBowl Sunday!  An American cultural rite not to be ignored.  So the Wind Star spent the night moored on St. Lucia, and arranged for a large screen TV to be set up outside a nice beach bar so that football fans could watch and eat and drink and hoot and holler together.  I'm not at all a fan, but I thought that was a pretty nice thing to do for people who actually care about football.

I was bemused to see the reception area plastered with banners for the Seattle Seahawks, and not anything for the New England Patriots.  Wouldn't it be more fair minded to have both teams represented? Then I learned that Windstar is based in Seattle, so fairness didn't come into it. <G>

Grenada, called the Spice Island, is as lush a place as I've ever seen. They supply 20% of the world supply of nutmeg as well as producing cinnamon, cloves, mace, bananas, organic cocoa, coffee, and more.  The central highlands are a secondary rain forest where different crops are intermingled, which is healthier than monoculture, which is the practice of planting masses of the same crop.  This makes them vulnerable to disease.

They also have the famous St. Georges University where Americans who want to become doctors study if they failed to get admitted to a US university.  It's a good school, too.  We shared a dinner with a couple where the husband had graduated from St. Georges and now has a successful practice as an ENT in New Jersey.  The University has grown tremendously in recent years, with many foreign students bringing money to Grenada. We were told that the university represents 20% of the island's GDP.  (!)

But tourism is by far the most substantial source of revenue, and the islands do it well, each with its own special flavor.  I loved Bequia (pronounced Beck-way), a small island in the St. Vincent and the Grenadines archipelago. One of the lovely things about a small ship is that it's possible to visit small islands that could never accommodate the giant cruise ships with thousands of passengers and crew.  The residents of Bequia were wonderfully warm and welcoming.  In fact, these four tour guides tended to break into song with dance moves when we stopped at different sites.  They were pretty good, too! 

The Grenadines contained the sort of beautiful, unspoiled tropical islands that we dream of.  In fact, scenes from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies were shot on some of the islands.  

I'd always thought it would be marvelous to explore the Caribbean on a sailing ship, and I was right.  The Wind Star used motor power when necessary, but unfurled the sails whenever possible.  Not only is wind power silent and free, but it made the passengers happy.  

So as I gaze out my window at Mid-Atlantic snow and watch the temperature drop, I dream of sailing the southern seas in comfort, with good food and much pampering.  Really, cruising doesn't get much better than this!  (Often cabin stewards will make towel critters when they make up your cabin. That cute little elephant to the left is a good example.  Fun!)

If you could fly away for a warm winter vacation, where would you go?  The Caribbean?  Florida?  Arizona?  Or would you rather go to Colorado and ski?  <G>  Let me know so we can share our holiday dreams.

Mary Jo at the Sail Away. For the record, I was drinking ice water but the Mayhem Consultant insisted on lending me his rum punch since that was more in the spirit of the occasion. <G>

History and Fashion at Kensington Palace

Nicola here, with a “what I did last weekend” sort of a blog about my recent trip to the absolutely charming Kensington Palace. The Palace is small - by royal standards -and feels cosy and intimate, and the current exhibitions illustrate life there during the late Stuart and Georgian eras. There’s also a lovely exhibition about the family life of Queen Victoria and last but not least, a fashion exhibition with gorgeous gowns that were worn by the current Queen, her sister Princess Margaret and Diana, Princess of Wales.

But to start at the beginning…

In 1689, when William and Mary came to the English throne as joint rulers, they were looking for somewhere private to live outside London because William, who suffered severely from asthma, needed to escape the polluted air of the city. They chose Nottingham House in the village of Kensington, and transformed it into a palace. Nowadays Kensington Palace is in central London, adjoining Hyde Park, and is the official London home of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (and Prince George!)

Visiting Other Worlds

Nicola here. There’s a meme going around on Facebook at the moment that is proving very popular. It asks: “You have been transported to the location in the last book you read. Where are you?” The answers flood in, from Scotland to the West Indies, from the New York of the future to London in 1515 and all times and places in between.

This meme set me thinking about world building, creating a setting that is real and vivid enough to make readers believe in it, literally to be transported there in their imaginations. Whether it is the fantasy world of a paranormal novel or the literally out-of-this world creation of science fiction, the writer faces the challenge of making it real for the reader. This happens in historical fiction as well, of course. We have a framework within which we set our stories; the era, the politics, the social history, fashions, etiquette etc and from within all that detail we craft a world that is compelling (I hope), a world which makes the reader feel that they are stepping back in time.

A Land of Alpha Castles!

Nicola here and today I'm talking about alphas but in a slightly different way. I’ve recently come back from a trip to Northumberland, in the far north of England. Northumberland is a history-lover’s paradise. It has more castles than any other county in England. It’s past has been shaped by violence and conflict: Viking raids, Scottish incursions, battles and rebellion. I was staying in the village of Bamburgh, in the shadow of the iconic Bamburgh castle, once the seat of the Anglo Saxon Kings of Northumbria.

I think of Northumberland as the land of ""alpha castles," big, strong and built to show power and military might. Sometimes you will come across fortified houses that have been given the title "castle" but when you look at them up against the big ones their pretty little crenellations look as though they will fall over at the first sight of a trebuchet. It was important that Northumberland's castles could withstand serious attack, at least until the 17th century when the threat from Scotland diminished.

London Adventures!

Pat here:

In all my travels, I’ve never had the opportunity to spend more than a couple of days at a time in London. That’s barely enough to remember how the underground works and orient myself. This summer, we spent ten wonderful days basking in the history I write about.

Claimed by the Laird - Scottish Brides Book 3

Nicola here, celebrating the publication of Claimed by the Laird, the third and final book in my Scottish Brides trilogy.

Writing a Scottish-set Regency series has been great fun. It’s allowed me to mix romance, danger, adventure, pirates and whisky smugglers with wonderful settings, feisty heroines and gorgeous heroes. I’ve been able to draw on my many trips to the Highlands and to do lots of research into everything from bagpipes to shipwrecks. I’ve flown to Fair Isle and walked the walls of ruined castles. I love my job! 

Particularly lovely has been the reader feedback; I’ve already been asked if there will be any more Scottish Brides books and because I always enjoy revisiting a series, I’d never say never. There are some characters who are already asking for a sequel… One reader told me that they wanted to join the Highland Ladies Bluestocking Society, the club that two of my heroines belong to. I'd like to be a member too!

The idea for the Bluestocking Society arose from my reading about the Scottish enlightenment and the discussions and intellectual meetings that took place mainly in Edinburgh. The Poker Club, the Select Society and the Oyster Club were examples of real Scottish clubs where scientists, writers and thinkers met to discuss ideas and eat delicacies such as salt haddock. These were male-dominated (as in the picture) but it struck me that well-to-do, independent minded women could also form their own society. The members of the Highland Ladies Bluestocking Society discuss books and reading but they also have an improper side and an interest in activities as various as life drawing and belly dancing!

What Wenches Recommend - July

Nicola here, fresh back from the RWA conference in San Antonio, Texas, where I met up with several of the other Wenches plus other friends old and new, and had the best time!

This is the July What We’re Reading. This month though, we’ve decided to shake it up a bit and call it “What Wenches Recommend.” This could be anything from books to food to places to visit or anything you like. So once you’ve seen a few of our favourite things this month, let us know your recommendations too! 

 First up, an old favourite from Pat:

I've not had a lot of good luck with books this month, but found a complete collection of the Jeeves and Wooster series with Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry. We'd not seen all of them so really enjoyed catching up on missed episodes. If you haven't read the original P.G.Wodehouse stories, give some of them a try first so you can see how beautifully they carry out these characters!

http://www.amazon.com/Jeeves-Wooster-Complete-Hugh-Laurie/dp/B001V7UXG2/wordwenches0b-20

http://www.amazon.com/Jeeves-Omnibus-Illustrated-P-Wodehouse-ebook/dp/B002TX6ZKU/wordwenches0b-20

Storytelling - Big Oaks from Little Acorns

Nicola here. Today I’m reflecting on the sorts of story ideas that catch our imagination. Last week on my way to the Romantic Novelists’ Association Conference I called in at Boscobel House in Shropshire to do a spot of research. Boscobel is the house where King Charles II hid from the Roundheads after his defeat at the Battle of Worcester in 1651. The story is very famous; hunted by Cromwell’s soldiers in the aftermath of the battle, Charles took refuge in an oak tree in the forest that surrounded Boscobel and he and his officer Captain William Careless (not the most confidence-inspiring name!) slept in the branches whilst the Roundheads scoured the forest around him. Later, cold, wet and in low spirits, Charles was taken to Boscobel House where he took dinner, dried his clothes before the fire and slept in a hiding place in the attic.

The Shrinking World

Anne here, pondering about how this world of ours is shrinking. Quite a few of my friends are heading overseas at the moment — some are already there, some have recently returned home, one is on a plane as we speak, and plenty more are preparing to go in the next few weeks. And they're not short journeys, either — in every case their destination is the other side of the world, changing hemispheres and seasons, as well as countries.

When I was a kid, the world was an enormous, unknowable place, and not only because I was a child, with a child's perspective. It was full of pockets of mystery. Timbuktoo was more or less a place of myth, a storybook place somewhere in the far, far beyond. Now several of my friends have been there. I have the postcards to prove it.

Let There Be Light . . .

Cara/Andrea here,
The summer equinox arrived this past weekend, which always puts me in a very travel frame of mind. Long days, glorious golden light, balmy nights—they seem to sing a siren’s song, beckoning one to set out and experience new sights, new settings.

Now, those of us traveling today just whip out our i-phones and snap away merrily, recording our peregrinations with the mere flick of a finger. Regency travelers required far more skill to capture the essence of a place—and so in homage to the art of travel, thought I’d share a small sketch of one of my favorite artists of the era.

“Had Bonington lived, I would have starved.” —JMW Turner

Despite his short life—he died of tuberculosis at age 26—Richard Parkes Bonington is recognized as master of the Romantic era. His brilliant rendering of light and his ability to capture the magic of a seemingly mundane moment earned him the highest accolades from his contemporaries—including Turner and Eugene Delacroix, with whom he shared a studio for a short time.

All that Glitters… An interview with jeweler Renee Huff

by Mary Jo 

A good convention is enhanced by having a dealer room, which sff cons have always known.  Romantic Times conventions are going in the same delightful direction, which is how I came to meet Renee Huff, who had traveled down from Kansas to New Orleans to set up a jewelry booth.  She had a range of styles, but of course I was drawn to the antique pieces.

In particular, I was attracted to a lovely Victorian chain unlike any other I've ever seen.  Renee explained that it was called a book chain because the links were shaped like little books, and the piece was gold over brass. The links are hollow, so the necklace is very light weight, a big plus. There was also a locket with a garnet, and I love garnets.  I put it on.  I took it off, I considered.(Click on the image to enlarge and you'll see the wonderful detail.  For all pictures, hover your cursor over the image to see a description of the piece displayed.)

Home Improvements Historical Style!

Nicola here. One thing that always interests me about the castles and old houses I visit is the different stages in their life; the way in which their purpose changes over the years and so they change shape and the usage of the rooms varies and the gardens are altered and each generation develops the property and leaves their mark on their home. It struck me recently as we planned some renovations to our cottage that the process we go through is not so different from that of grand builders of stately homes, only on a much smaller scale! (The picture is Appuldurcombe House on the Isle of Wight - more on that later.)

Ashdown House, for example, was used as a hunting lodge for several hundred years and so was not lived in permanently. It therefore remained architecturally unaltered all that time because there was no change in its purpose and so no need to spend money on alterations. However the moment the Victorian Cravens decided to take up residence there on a full time basis, they changed it completely. The house was too small to be an aristocratic family home so they extended it, just as people build extensions now. They added two wings, with a ballroom, a smoking room and a billiards room, and most importantly, one suspects, they built servants’ quarters to house the thirty eight people who waited on them! The gardens were also considered too plain so they remodelled them as well with a fashionable Italianate parterre garden that was all the rage in the mid-nineteenth century. 

There is a house in New Orleans….

by Mary Jo

RWA has conferences for professional and aspiring writers.  They are serious and often rather stressed as ambitious and sometimes desperate writers try to make headway. 

In contrast, the Romantic Times conferences are a great big rollicking party. <G>  There are actually a lot of very good workshops at RT (I was on three panels), but it's first and foremost a conference for readers.  The authors are there as bait, to see our friends, and to promo our books.  
 
A major reason I opted for this recent conference is because I love New Orleans.  It's a great city and we were right on the edge of the French quarter.  Go out the front of the hotel, and there was Canal Street.  Go out through the garage and there you are on a very narrow little street with great little restaurants and shops.

A Look at Lima

by Mary Jo

When I blogged about our cruise on the upper Amazon, , I threatened another blog about Lima, the capital city of  Peru.  I don't make idle threats. <G>  But never fear, mostly I'm going to show pictures.

I spent very little time there, just two overnights in a hotel, and a coach tour of city highlights the morning before we flew into Amazonia to catch our cruise boat, but Lima made a strong impression on me.

Peru itself is a fascinating country, sharply divided into three distinct climate zones.  The coastal area where Lima is located is harsh, narrow desert, and the city's microclimate produces months of fog but almost no rain despite its closeness to the Pacific Ocean.  Most of the city's water comes from rivers that flow down from the Andes, the dramatic mountain backbone  of the country.  (Luckily, our touring day was lovely and sunny.)

The Winter Bride: an interview with Anne Gracie

by Mary Jo

TWO Word Wenches releases are due on April 1st!  An abundance of good reading.  I waved my hand first to claim an ARC for Anne's The Winter Bride. This second book of her Chance Sisters Quartet is another delight.  (Abby's story, The Autumn Bride () was first in the series, and chosen by Library Journal as one of the Top Ten Romances of 2013.  AND has just been listed as an RWA RITA finalist!)

Alissa Baxter: A South African Novelist

by Mary Jo

The Word Wenches have always taken a global view of the romance community of readers, writers, and publishers. As I like to say, the sun never sets on the Wench empire since we have authors from the US, the UK, and Australia, and I like to count Jo Beverley twice because of her many years in Canada. <G>

But there are English speaking authors in other countries as well, and one is my friend Alissa Baxter, a South African. Alissa started her writing career with traditional Regencies, which are still available as e-books at RegencyReads.com.  I connected with Alissa and her mother, Tess Baxter, through our mutual love of Regencies, and we've been friends ever since.

Writers like to try new things, and Alissa became the first author to have a chicklit novel published by a South African publisher. I really enjoyed Send and Receive because it captured the essence of what it's like to be young, single--and South African. Young and single is universal--I liked the way every single guy the heroine meets is evaluated at least briefly as a potential mate before Angie finds The One. At the same time, I was intrigued by the South African setting and the cast of young people trying to find their place in the world.

AMAZON: Adventures on the River Sea

by Mary Jo

These days when we talk about Amazon, we're probably referring to the mega-selling online site, but I'm just back from a visit to the real Amazon, and it certainly explains why Jeff Bezos chose to name his company after the mightiest river in the world. 

The longest river in the world can be disputed--just exactly where do the headwaters begin?--but everyone accepts that the Amazon River is the largest river in the world.

 Statistics abound: the water flow is greater than the next seven rivers combined.  The world's largest drainage basin by far.  The estuary at its mouth is 150 miles wide. The Amazon Basin includes parts of nine different nations. No wonder it's sometimes called the "River Sea." 

The Amazon is a distant place of jungle and danger, myth and mystery, and Sean Connery movies.  Naturally the Mayhem Consultant and I wanted to visit. <G>  For several years, I've been eyeing an Upper Amazon cruise offered by the partnership between Lindblad Expeditions and the National Geographic Society. 

 

Slipping through time with Christina Courtenay!

Nicola here! Today I’m welcoming Christina Courtenay back to the Word Wenches to talk about her latest time slip novel, The Secret Kiss of Darkness. Christina is a multi-award winning author of historical romantic fiction and as I am a huge fan of time slip novels I couldn’t wait to quiz her about her latest book!

Christina, welcome back to the Word Wenches! Please tell us a little bit about The Secret Kiss of Darkness.

The Secret Kiss of Darkness is a time slip novel set in Devon, in the south-west of the UK.  The heroine in the present has her life totally disrupted when she almost bankrupts herself to buy a portrait of a mysterious 18^th century gentleman at an auction.  There’s forbidden love, smugglers and romance, as well as a gypsy’s spell!

The story was inspired by a Van Dyck painting in the National Gallery here in London, which looked so real I thought the man portrayed was going to start talking to me any minute!  I swear his eyes followed my every move.  It was very spooky but brilliant as it gave me the idea for this novel.

Jamaica Dreams

by Mary Jo

I've long believed that much of the impetus behind the British empire was a desire to own lots of warm, sunny real estate.  And very successful they were, too!  Jamaica was one of the earliest possessions, taken from the Spanish in 1655.  

The island is rich and fertile and beautiful, and it became the world's greatest producer of sugar for a very long time.  (With all the evils of the slave system that produced that sugar, but that's not the subject for the day.)  

For this year's winter sunshine break, the Mayhem Consultant and I wanted to go somewhere easy: only one flight so we wouldn't experience the many colorful transportation problems that can happen.  (Once we emerged from Tortola to find that our airline carrier had declared bankruptcy and stopped flying.  Exciting times!)

On the advice of an excellent travel agent, we rather warily decided to try Jamaica.  Warily because long ago we spent a week in Jamaica, and no sooner did we start our first beach walk when a local poled up his boat and offered us drugs.  ("No, thank you," we said politely.)

The low point of that trip was when I took an over the counter drug for an upset stomach, and half an hour later passed out on the breakfast table.  The MC thought I'd died and the restaurant owner thought I must have drunk way too much the night before.  

Neither of these things were true.  I discovered that the fifth listed ingredient was laudanum, which is how I learned I was hypersensitive to even the faintest trace of opium.  So much for being a Regency lady quaffing bottles of laudanum!

But the Jamaica Inn looked gorgeous and the agent assured us that all her clients loved the place, so we decided to give it a try. 

Indeed it was wonderful (that's our veranda on the left)--and very, very British.  What better place for a Regency historical writer to relax?  Because not only is Jamaica beautiful, warm, and sunny, but it's lavish with history.

Built in 1950 and presumably named after the Daphne DuMaurier novel, the Jamaica Inn quickly became an elite destination.  As in, Arthur Miller brought Marilyn Monroe to the Jamiaca Inn for their honeymoon. (!!!)

Even more, it became a hangout for other distinguished Britons.  Our room was right next to the White Suite, the best suite in the inn--and Winston Churchill had stayed there.  

WINSTON CHURCHILL!!!  I had some serious fangirl moments.  It was easy to imagine him lounging on the veranda, smoking a cigar and drinking, though I'm having trouble imaging him in shorts and a polo shirt.  And I'm pretty sure he didn't go for rum drinks with fruit on sticks.  <G>

Churchill, Noel Coward, and Ian Fleming all drank at the bar there, quite possibly at the same time. Churchill, an accomplished artist, taught Coward how to paint.  

On a visit to his pal Ian Fleming's estate Goldeneye (where Fleming wrote his first James Bond novel), Noel Coward fell in love with a ruined limestone building with a magnificent view.  It had once belonged to Henry Morgan, the seventeenth century privateer, pirate, and later lieutenant-governor of Jamaica.  He used the property as a lookout, and you can see why.   

Morgan was to some extent the inspiration for Captain Blood, the Sabatini novel and movie that made Errol Flynn a star.  Forbes magazine rated Morgan as the 9th richest of historical pirates.  These days, a romanticized image of him is used to sell that fine Jamaican product, Captain Morgan Rum.  As I said, history is everywhere!  

Noel Coward bought his piece of paradise for £150 and built the Firefly Estate as his winter vacation home. It's a surprisingly simple hilltop house with amazing views.  Despite the simplicity, he had A-list guests, from the Queen Mother to QEII herself and Sophia Loren.  In fact, he died at Firefly and is buried on a hill looking over the bay.  A wryly amused bronze statue of him sits on the lawn and contemplates the view he loved.

Luckily, it isn't necessary to be rich and famous to visit Jamaica, or the other islands of the Caribbean.  But I must say that I like visiting a place that has some history.  Do you enjoy that, too?  What unexpected pieces of history have you found while traveling?

Mary Jo, showing the lovely towels swans the maids left on the railing of our veranda.  Do you blame us for heading south?  <G>

Ten (fascinating) facts about Gretna Green!

Nicola here, talking today about elopement, Gretna Green and the difference between English and Scottish marriage laws in the Georgian and Regency period.

The Gretna Green marriage is something of a theme in historical romances. A couple from England, desperate to marry, perhaps under 21 years old and opposed by parents or guardians, make a dash for the border. The reason they needed to do this? Under the Marriage Act of 1753 (also known as Lord Hardwicke’s Marriage Act), clandestine or common-law marriages in England were made illegal. All marriages were required to have an official ceremony performed by a Church of England priest, unless the couple was Jewish or Quaker. The Act also required parental consent for parties under 21 years old and enforced the publication of Banns. This Act also applied in Wales and Ireland. However, it did not apply to Scotland as Scotland was under its own legal system.

Mitteleuropa

by Mary Jo

Years ago, I read an article about riverboat cruises in Europe, and the idea immediately appealed to me.   As a friend says, rivers were the interstates of the past, and so much of European civilization developed along the waterways.  How better to explore than in a boat holding maybe 150 friendly, intelligent passengers and serving lots of really good food?

Like a plot element, the idea of a riverboat cruise simmered in my lizard brain for years, and in 2006, I thought it was time to do a cruise in Southern France.  Except that all the French cruises were booked for the time slot we had, and we ended up cruising the Douro River in Northern Portugal. It was great.

This year, I decided it was time to book that French cruise.  Urp. Once again, Southern France along the Rhone was sold out.  Which is how we ended up cruising the Danube.  Again, it was great—the Mayhem Consultant and I are easily amused, and any interesting new place will be fun.  

Prague

We started with a three day pre-cruise extension in Prague, which isn’t on the Danube, but really, how could we go to Eastern Europe and not see Prague?  The city has been an intellectual and creative center for centuries, and under the blighting hand of five decades of Soviet rule, it was spared rapacious developers tearing down beautiful old buildings.

Prague lived up to its reputation, and the old city is truly spectacular, including the famous and incredibly complex astronomical clock, which dates to 1410 (!!!) and which performs its traffic stopping dance every hour on the hour. 

A high point of Prague was our tour of the Lobkowicz Palace, part of the Prague castle complex on a hill overlooking the city.  The Lobkowicz family had been Eastern European aristocrats for centuries, and they were collectors and patrons of the arts.  Then the family was forced to flee twice—first when the Nazis came, then in 1948 when the Russians came.

And here the story becomes even more interesting. After the fall of Communism in 1989, former owners could go to the courts to reclaim the family properties, and that’s exactly what William Lobkowicz did.  Born in Boston and educated at Harvard, he reclaimed the family estates and sold off several to raise the money to restore  the others. 

The Viking cruise line had a video about the palace tour, and I started salivating when they showed the family art treasures.  Original Breughels and Canalettos.  Hand written manuscripts by Beethoven, with his own scratch outs and annotations!

The tour included a lovely lunch in a gorgeous high ceilinged chamber, amazing views over the city, and a half hour chamber music concert featuring works by composers associated with Prague.  People like Mozart and Beethoven and Dvorak. 

Music

That was the first of several concerts of classic music on our journey, and reflects how much music is a part of eastern European culture.  Another concert was by the organ in cathedral of Passau, in Germany.  It’s the largest cathedral organ in Europe with almost 18K pipes, and when it played the double bass notes, the reverberations were so powerful that I half expected the plaster cherubs to be shaken off the walls. <G>   (Note: half an hour seems about right for a classical music concert for an audience of tourists.)

On a riverboat cruise, you tend to stop at a city a day and get guided walking tours of the old city in the morning, with free time or optional tours in the afternoon.  So we got an overview of great cities of Eastern Europe.  Regensburg in Bavaria has a stone bridge (called, logically enough,
the Stone Bridge, Steinerne Brücke) which was built in the 12th century and for centuries was the only really reliable crossing of the Danube for a very long stretch.

I loved medieval Passau, also in Bavaria, with its cathedral and twisting streets.  The tour their illustrated something else about Eastern Europe: the presence of war.  As the guide said matter of factly, there were no war industries in the city so the only thing the Allies bombed in WWII was the railroad station.  Hence, the medieval city survived.  (The other omnipresent topic in Bavaria was beer, which was referred to often and enthusiastically.)

Vienna

I have to say I wasn’t too taken by Vienna, though that surely is because we were shown lots of oppressive imperial grandeur from the heyday of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  Nor was I very impressed by the famous Sacher tortes, though the tea room at the Sacher hotel was very lovely, and full of tourists like us who were there for the iconic experience.  (And the chocolate. <G>)

I like Budapest a great deal more—it was attractive and idiosyncratic and invited further exploration.  In the afternoon, we went to a horse show at the farm of the two Lazar brothers, who are world champion carriage drivers, and which underlined Hungary heritage of riding and horsemanship.  (Some of the riding tricks, like this one, must be like what Regency spectators saw at Astley's Amphitheater back in the day.)

I’m a born tourist and could say lots more, but what struck me most about the trip was the different feel of the region from Western Europe, which I know a great deal better.  Central Europe is sometimes called Mitteleuropa—Middle Europe, a term that is political and cultural as well as geographic. 

The history felt very close as city guides described the Roman origins of their cities, the bombing damage of World War II, and empty Jewish quarters. Even more present was the history in the Czech Republic and Hungary, countries which were under Communist domination until 1989.  Guides talked about how statues of Lenin and Stalin used to be in particular squares, how a particular square was popular for demonstrations "because there was more room for Russian tanks," and pointed out the stark, boxy Soviet buildings that were all about cheap practicality rather than aesthetics. 

This part of the world has often been fought over—Hungary is largely a level plain, perfect for raiding horsemen or oncoming tanks.  Maybe that accounts for the underlying fatalism of the culture: great music, world weary intellectuals, and brilliant scientists fleeing to the west.  In the long history of the Central Europe, Communism was a blip that is already receding into the past. 

Not that I should be drawing many conclusions based on a mere ten days in Mitteleuropa!  But it’s a fascinating part of the world, and I’m glad we had a chance to see some of it.  

Have you ever been to Central Europe?  What did you think of it?  And if you haven’t visited, would you like to?  What dreams and fantasies come to mind when you think of the romantic Danube and Viennese coffee houses? 

Mary Jo, adding a picture of a band of Prague musicians playing horns unlike any I've ever seen.  But they sure were enjoying themselves!

 

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho, It's Off to the Past We Go

Joanna here:  This month Ask-A-Wench takes us to visit any time and place in all of history.  A five-year visit.  The question is, where would you go?  And, more important, what would you pack?

Jo has a plan:

Oh, difficult! I don't think I want to go anywhere for 5 years, so I'm going to cheat and say 24 hours.

Because it irritates me that I keep finding new wrinkles on a Regency ball and so many other aspects of Regency life, I'd find the date of a top notch one and turn up in the early morning to observe. All the right clothing and accessories will be in my period appropriate trunk, though I'm sure there'll be problems of some sort.

I'll have correct period money in order to purchase what I need, tip servants etc, and a convincing letter of introduction from some relative far away, say Lancashire, introducing me to the hostess with an "as mentioned in my last letter." Hostess will assume some terrible mix up, I hope, and give me house room and entree to the ball. I will find a reason not to dance because that would really give the game away.

I'd take a smart phone, which I could keep tucked away, but use to sneak photographs and even type in little notes. And when I come back, no one will believe what it was really like at a Regency ball!

Cara/Andrea says:

I would pack a large trunk (because, y’know, that’s how the beau monde roll—none of these gore-tex ballistic nylon roller bags. My lady’s maid would faint from embarrassment, and she might break the vinaigrette in her fall) and fill it with fancy ballgowns and fripperies because my destination would be the Congress of Vienna in the Fall of 1814.

Oh, I would love to be part of all the fancy balls and entertainments—the medieval Carrousel, the Peace Ball at Metternich’s country estate, Beethoven’s concerts . . . Dancing with reigning heads of Europe, including Tsar Alexander would be, um, an experience (I might have to resort to some unladylike defenses if he tried to pinch my derriere!) Like Jo, I would definitely sneak in a modern smart phone to surreptitiously photograph all the gilded splendor. A few videos of the quadrille and waltzes would be fun as well.

 Also in my trunk would be a lovely inlaid box of watercolors, because after a stay in Vienna I would meander through the Alps and take a boat from Calais to London, where I would contrive to study painting with JMW Turner and Sir Thomas Lawrence. (And yes, I shall gladly guide you through my retrospective show at the Met this winter!)

Mary Jo would doubtless pack a fascinating suitcase, but she's living out of actual suitcases at the moment.  She sends a wave and a message --    
"Mary Jo has been touring Mitteleuropa in Real Time and has mostly  been concerned with stuffing clothing back into suitcase since garments double in size after they've been worn."

Anne wants it all:

Anne here, absolutely dithering about where and when to go to. Like the others, I would take essential supplies, which in my case would be plenty of money of the day, plus gold that could be easily traded if I ran out. I'd take lots of antibiotics and also things like aspirin — and I'd make sure my shots were all up to date. I can't imagine anything worse than being stuck in the 18th or 19th century and being ill and at the mercy of what passed for medicine in those days.

Regency England appeals, for research and for fun and for sheer curiosity -- London and Bath and several fabulous country house parties as well as balls.

But Paris at the turn of the 19th-20th century, the Belle Epoque, with the explosion of painting and the arts would be fabulous, too, even though my French is schoolgirl and rusty. Early - mid 19th Century Russia, specifically St Petersburg, would also appeal. Actually, I could combine several of these and have my very own Grand Tour, though travel in those days left a lot to be desired, and I would have to add flea powder and bed-bug repellant or whatever, not to mention some ant-nausea pills for all the bouncing in carriages and boats.

Of course, in all of these situations I would have to command the same kind of living conditions of the aristocratic class — I want comfort and freedom to do what I want. I have no interest in discovering what it's like to be a Regency-era scullery maid, or a milkmaid -- except by watching from a distance.


Susan's time and place (and bag):

I'd be off to Scotland in a flash, no question, ready to roam the heathery hills in kirtle and plaidie. But choosing the time period across the long span of Scottish history is almost as hard as choosing what to bring for an extended stay!

 I'd like to jump around -- 11th century, 14th, 16th, 18th, 19th . . . but if I had to choose just one time to stay in for a while, I'd leap to the 14th century, just after Bannockburn, when there's peace and a positive spirit building.

I'd choose to be around Stirling and Edinburgh for a touch of the Highland atmosphere while still having access to all the, er, modern conveniences of a royal fortress. Good stone walls and fireplaces, latrines and pine torches, beeswax candles, fine fabrics, good harp music, manuscript libraries and such. I'd like to be part of the royal household so I could meet Robert Bruce (Wallace, alas, is long gone), and hang about the court -- then I'd head for the Highlands and find a little croft there and set up as a healer or an artist. Maybe I'd make some paints and try my hand at that.

What's in my leather satchel? (A suitcase would be so conspicuous here!) -- well, for starters, plenty of antibiotics and some other useful medicines. Chocolate for sure, lots of that, and good black and green teas. Cotton undies, for sure. I'm not a fan of wool . . . A few books: a copy of Culpeper's Illustrated Herbal (Culpeper dates later than this, but I want to know what those plants are!), a Gaelic dictionary, some of my forever keeper reads for the long winter nights (Mary Stewart travels and re-reads well), and a box of my favorite pens and plenty of notebooks and legal pads. Did I say dark chocolate? I might need a separate bag just to have enough!    

 

Pat joins us with;

I’m going to reveal my American history roots and say I’d love to go back to the end of the American Revolutionary War. Can you imagine the joy of celebrating a new nation? And the terror of deciding how to create our own government?  I’d love to learn the real history behind the history books. http://teachingamericanhistory.org/convention/

This would be in 1787 and I’d choose Philadelphia. I’d love to meet Jefferson and Franklin. Their intelligence and common sense awe me. Unfortunately, as a female, I probably wouldn’t have been allowed inside the convention halls, but I bet I could hear an earful at the tavern!

I’d pack whatever gold pieces I could find, toilet paper, and leggings. Philadelphia is cold and those big gowns with no long johns wouldn’t be warm enough for me!

And Joanna bringing up the rear:

I have my travel plans. 
Augustan Rome.  Arriving about 30 BCE.

I do not know a heck of a lot about Augustan Rome.  I am assuming it looked pretty much like that picture to the left, but I may be slightly mistaken and it looked more like the picure on the right. 
Anyhow, they wore pretty and comfortable-looking clothing, which is a big plus for me.

What to bring?  I got out my metaphorical suitcase and toyed with several clever ideas. I'd get me some solar panels and a recharging set up and bring my computer and kindle.  That's the ticket.  I'd have a whole library with me and my working tools.  Everything I need to write.

But let's be realistic about this.  I know how the world works.  I'd arrive and everything would stop working.  Give it a week.

I decided to go low-tech.  I'd take ballpoint pens, because it would drive me mad to try to write with a quill pen.  And notebooks. Lots of notebooks. I am as flexible as the next person, but I do not want to learn to write on papyrus.

So I packed up the suitcase with notebooks and threw in a box of pens (black, fine-line) and was ready to close the lid when I thought, "Shouldn't I bring some antibiotics in case I come down with, y'know, pneumonia?"

I threw in a couple few bottles of penicillin and started to close the lid, then suddenly thought -- "No tomatoes."  Italy without pizza.  This seemed just so wrong.
I tossed in some packets of tomato seed.  I'd grow my own, next to the impluvium.

I was shuffling around notebooks to make room for seed packets when it suddenly struck me -- soap.  No soap in ancient Rome.  Could I learn to learn to make my own?  Could I become an advocate of the olive oil rubdown and a good scrape?  Did I want to go around smelling like a salad?

Not so much.  I chucked some notebooks out in favor of two dozen bars of soap.  No toothpaste.  I'd chew mint or something.

But hey!  That put me in mind of spices!   Great Hera, I'd forgotten spices.  Cinnamon, ginger, cloves, pepper. 
More notebooks gone. 

That was when it struck me.  This was Europe in The Time Before Coffee.
What a ghastly prospect.
Notebooks definitely out.  Coffee in.  I'd keep five or six notebooks.  I'd learn to do rough drafts on a slate and transfer only the final work to the notebooks.  I could live with that.

I closed the lid on the suitcase.
And then I thought ...
chocolate.


If you could go on a historical vacation, where would you go and what's the one thing you would absolutely have to pack?  Some lucky commenter will receive a copy of Mischief and Mistletoe, our Wench anthology.

California Dreaming

As some of you know, I’ve been in the process of not one, but two life-changing events these past months. I’m not sure “husband retiring” rates as high as death or birth, but it has to be right up there with moving across the country. So please excuse my tardiness in posting. My calendar shows a big blank spot on today, and I didn’t even question it, that’s how brain dead I am.(a photo of our new backyard!)

I believe I’ve wondered before how our ancestors managed to pull up roots and move to villages where they knew no one, or crossed countries not even knowing where the next water might be found. With all our 21st century technology, moving is still a frustrating, terrifying, and stressful experience. We had two  cars, cell phones, and walkie-talkies driving over two thousand miles, and I was a wreck at the end of four days. Four months of watching oxen kicking up dust on my covered wagon would have killed me. At least I had the sense to jettison most of our household goods before we left!

Visiting Scotland in the Regency

Nicola here. It’s no secret that amongst the Wenches and our readers there are a lot of fans of all things Scottish. It’s a beautiful country, one of the places in the world I could never tire of visiting and I have had some amazing experiences there, from climbing mountains to swimming in the lochs, from sailing amongst the Northern Isles to wandering the cobbled streets of Edinburgh. I’ve fallen over in Scottish bogs, been bitten by midges, danced at a ceilidh and been marooned in every sort of weather you might imagine, flood, fog and snow. It’s been brilliant.

In making my frequent trips to Scotland I’m hardly unique. Nor is heading to the Highlands a recent phenomenon. Scotland was a tourist destination as early as the 18^th century and in the later years of that century and in the early 19^th century its popularity exploded. “It has now become fashionable to make a tour into Scotland for some weeks or months,” The Weekly Magazine commented in 1772, whilst Eliza Diggle observed in 1788: “All the world is travelling to Scotland and Ireland.”

Here are a few of the snippets I've picked up about the history of tourism in Scotland when I was researching the background to The Lady and the Laird (with a few of my own photos for illustration!)

Intrepid Travellers

The earliest authors who wrote about Scotland, including Martin Martin in 1698 and Daniel Defoe in 1724, were intrepid individuals whose writings inspired other travellers to venture into those wild lands. In 1771 Thomas Pennant published his Tour In Scotland, which was a vast success. He had previously written a similar guide to Ireland, which he admitted was very incomplete “owing to the conviviality of the country.” Visitors to Scotland were attracted by Pennant’s descriptions of landscape and his account of folklore. His enthusiasm for picturesque views and for nature was keen. He did much to inspire Dr Samuel Johnson’s travels and despite disliking Pennant’s politics Johnson said of him: “He is the best traveller I ever read; he observes more things than anyone else does.”

Dr Johnson and James Boswell followed swiftly in Pennant’s footsteps, travelling mainly through the Western Isles. Here they found the Highlands in a state of change. The clan system had been dismantled, the wearing of tartan was prohibited and the land was being cleared. Johnson wondered if he had left it too late to witness the “old” way of life of the Highlands. He did note, however, that illegal whisky distilling was common and that there was a custom called the skalk, whereby a man took a glass of whisky as an aperitif before breakfast. (My husband turned a bit pale when he heard that. He likes a wee dram but not before breakfast. I remember visiting the Talisker Distillery last year and doing some whisky tasting at about 11 in the morning. The rest of the day is a bit hazy.)

The Guidebook - An Insipid Tour

By the turn of the 19^th century guide books to Scotland abounded. The Quarterly Review of 1806 complained: “There is Johnson’s Philosophic Tour, Pennant’s Descriptive Tour, Gilpin’s Picturesque Tour, Stoddart’s Sketching Tour, Garnet’s Medical Tour, Mrs Murray’s Familiar Tour, Newte’s Nautical Tour, Mawman’s Bookselling Tour, Campbell’s Crazy Tour, Lithie’s Insipid Tour…All those Caledonian memorabilia that the more desperate visit in person.”  I must admit I am a keen reader of guidebooks. The guide book to Edinburgh I used last year was particularly good on helping me put my itinerary together even if it wasn’t called “An Insipid Tour of Edinburgh.” (Here is a photo of me consulting it in the famous Greyfriars church yard.)

It’s difficult to know how many of the 18^th and 19^th century travel guides were bought by people who simply had an interest in reading more about Scotland and were not actually intending to leave the comfort of their armchair. The tour guides definitely played a part in encouraging a growing interest in the country, its landscape, the rugged scenery, the geology, the literature and the legends. Perhaps some of those people who read about the country still saw it as too wild and dangerous to visit but reading about it at home made it seem safer.

At the same time the refurbishment of inns and the development of hotels does suggest that people were travelling in increasing numbers. The Napoleonic Wars certainly benefited travel in Britain as much of the continent was closed to tourists; one newspaper commented: “Edinburgh is as much visited by every dashing citizen who pretends to fashion as Margate or Tonbridge.”

An Opportunity for Tour Guides

With tourism came a need for people to show the visitors around. Guides could make a good income from fees and tips and some supplemented their talks by selling handbooks and souvenirs. By the 1790s the more entrepreneurial were designing advertisements offering their services. Towns such as Perth and Sterling appointed town guides and abbeys offered guided tours, as did stately homes. In 1814 the Duke of Atholl’s factor devised a set of guidelines for the people who showed visitors around the gardens at Dunkeld. They had to wear a badge for identification and they had to ensure that all visitors signed in. The tourists were not permitted to walk round on their own because some of them would help themselves to “souvenirs” of plant cuttings or carve their initials on the trees! The Head Gardener himself would show the more important guests around although on one occasion he made a mistake when two rich American visitors came posing as sailors. He took one look at their shabby attire and consigned them to an underling, thus missing out on a substantial tip.

The Visitor’s Book

In Scotland the visitor’s book started its life in the 18^th century as “the album given to strangers.” Most people simply signed their names but a few made comments about the place and whether or not they had enjoyed their visit. From this developed the idea of feedback on the attractions which today manifests itself in Trip Advisor! I haven't found any rude comments in Scottish visitors' books but I was intrigued to read that the gardens at Nuneham Courtenay in England had a problem with people writing uncomplimentary comments in the visitors book in 1815. One visitor wrote: “Well does the dinner and the day agree; the food is cold and so are we.”

By Land and Sea

As tourism started to take off it gave a boost to Scottish hotels and inns. This was much to the relief of the nobility and gentry who had previously offered friends and acquaintances accommodation in their own houses. In 1773 Lord Breadalbane commented that: “We have had a good deal of company here this summer… Many of them from England, some of whom I knew before, others recommended to me. Sometimes it is a little troublesome…” Guest had to be fed and entertained, which could be expensive, and they all wanted to participate in some Scottish country dancing.  Poor Lord Breadalbane found that he had barely a moment to himself before the next carriage load of visitors rolled up to the door!

Of the inns, the best were excellent but the worst had a name for being appalling. The Inchture Inn between Perth and Dundee was noted for serving a very poor breakfast of stale eggs, rancid butter and inedible bread. The well-organised tourist sent ahead to organise rooms, request fresh bedding and make sure there would be good food. The roads were equally mixed, some in excellent condition, others very poor. Whilst highway robbery was almost unknown by this period, other mishaps were all too frequent. Tourists frequently got lost because there were no road signs. Even Queen Victoria got lost in the hills above Dunkeld, and carriages could easily overturn and horses go lame. North of Perth the inns did not always provide horses for hire which meant that travellers had to rest their own teams until they were able to continue.

Travel on the water was even more perilous. The journey to see the famous Fingal’s Cave on the Isle of Staffa was considered extremely dangerous (and I have to admit that it was pretty rough the day we visited and our dog didn’t much appreciate being lifted in and out of the boat by two hefty sailors!) This is one of our photos showing the sea breaking over the entrance to Fingal's Cave.

The Medicinal Visit

The therapeutic value of sea bathing was not as quickly recognised in Scotland as it was in England, perhaps because it’s cold getting in the water in Scotland whatever the season.  (There is a photo of me swimming in Scotland but it's censored because of my horrified expression when the cold water hits!) A saltwater bath was built at Peterhead in 1762 to augment the existing mineral spring treatments and in 1788 there were bathing machines for hire at Tynemouth and other resorts. By the turn of the 19^th century there were a number of seaside towns near Edinburgh that offered sea bathing and this was generally recognised as being good for the health.  Dr William Buchan recommended seawater as a cure for skin complaints and a preservative of general health. These towns also developed coffee rooms, circulating libraries and music chambers for those occasions on which the weather turned wet.

Scotland also offered other opportunities for a healthy holiday. Equestrian trips, pedestrian tours and mountain ascents were all on offer by the end of the 18^th century. As the 19^th century progressed the idea of a picturesque tour of Scotland to admire the scenery or a medicinal visit for exercise and sea bathing was joined by the sporting visit so beloved of Victorian and Edwardian aristocrats. Scotland’s popularity as a tourist destination hasn’t waned since. 

Are you a planner or a pantser when it comes to taking a trip? Do you like to read the guidebooks beforehand or simply turn up and decide what to do when you arrive? And have you ever visited somewhere that was completely different from how you expected it to be? (For me it was Stonehenge - I expected it to be bigger!)

History Afloat!

Nicola here, back from a holiday sailing on the Norfolk Broads. The Broads is a vast area of connected rivers and lakes in the East of England and it has been a tourist destination since the 19th century. I’ve wanted to go sailing on the Broads since I read a book by Kathleen Fidler called “The Brydons on the Broads” when I was about 12 years old. The Brydons were a family who had lots of adventures but I remembered the story set on the Norfolk Broads in particular because it involved the children seeing a ghost ship and finding a secret Broad. Exciting! One of the special things about the Norfolk Broads is that when you are there, the atmosphere is so strong you can really imagine this happening. There are all sorts of secret little waterways with sailing boats slipping silently by. A kingfisher will flash past flying along the river and disused windmills stand sentinel over the reed beds. It’s a magical landscape.

 

A Brief History

The Norfolk Broads look like a natural phenomenon but they are manmade. From the 9th century people cut the peat in the area to use as fuel for heating and cooking. This was a major industry until the 14th century but when sea levels began to rise the water filled the holes created by the peat cutting and formed a series of lakes, the Broads. In the 16th Century, Norwich was England’s second largest city after London and it was very convenient to have a network of waterways to transport wool and agricultural produce for export. For several hundred years Norfolk wherry ships were an iconic sight on the Broads. We saw several restored wherries that are still sailing today, including the one in the photo.

By the 18th century work was underway to drain the marshland of the Broads because it was becoming too flooded. It is from this time that we have the other iconic Broads image – the beautiful windmills that were used as drainage pumps. Some of these have been turned into houses. Others have fallen into ruin. Most are extremely photogenic!

By the 19th century the Broads was starting to be used for pleasure. Fishing was very popular as were the sailing “frolics,” the forerunners of regattas. During the Victorian and Edwardian era the Broads became a holiday destination for rich families seeking an “adventure” holiday! These days anyone can visit the Broads for an adventurous holiday afloat!

The Broads also have a connection to Horatio Nelson; his sister lived at Barton House in the village of Barton Turf. It felt pretty cool to be sailing on Barton Broad and thinking that Nelson had probably done the same thing!

St Benet’s Abbey

One of the places I was keen to visit was St Benet’s Abbey, a monastery founded before the Norman Conquest of 1066 and the only abbey in England that was not closed as part of Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the monasteries. There is a major archaeological project taking place to excavate St Benet’s. You can read about it here. In the 18th century a windmill was built into the ruins of St Benet’s gatehouse, which gives it the rather extraordinary appearance that it has today.

St Benet’s is a very atmospheric place so it is fitting that there are lots of ghost stories associated with the ruins. One refers to a monk called Brother Pacificus who can be seen rowing across the river in a small boat, accompanied by his dog. It is said that the wherrymen would refuse to moor overnight near the ruins of St Benet’s because they were afraid of the ghosts.

St Benet’s was also a very special place for us for finding a rare butterfly – not the very beautiful swallowtail, which we also saw, but a Wall Brown. This was first named in 1699 and referred to as “The golden marbled butterfly with black eyes.”

Fairhaven

There is a rather nice UK/USA connection at South Walsham, where we visited the Fairhaven Water Gardens. When we went there we discovered that Lord Fairhaven, who created the gardens, took his title from Fairhaven, Massachsetts, which was the place where the first Lord Fairhaven was born. The water gardens are stunning. They formed part of the South Walsham estate that Lord Fairhaven bought after the 2nd World War. The house and formal gardens had been used as a convalescent home and the woodland and water garden as a training ground for the home guard. Pleasure boats were sunk in the inner broad, which was also covered with barbed wire, to prevent German flying boat from landing. Tanks were hidden in the garden; some of the tank bays can be seen in the garden today. The house had fallen into disrepair and the garden had become a jungle. From this, Lord Fairhaven created the gorgeous woodland and water gardens that are there today.

How Hill

We also visited the thatched Edwardian mansion of How Hill, built initially as a holiday home for the Boardman family and another place with a gorgeous garden. How Hill looks the epitome of Edwardian luxury but in the grounds is a very different sort of building, a cottage of the type that a marshman and his family might live in. The cottage was built in about 1780 and was tiny. There was one main living room downstairs, a scullery, a larder and tool room. Upstairs were two bedrooms, one for the adults who shared it with the baby, and a room next door for the children (sometimes as many as seven in one tiny room). The cottage was thatched in sedge and reed, harvested on the Broads. Marshmen did all sorts of work, from operating and maintaining the drainage mills to cutting the hay, which was sent to London to feed the hackney carriage horses. They were also fishermen and they caught eels and shot duck and pheasant. It was a way of life lived mainly afloat. Transport was more likely to be by boat than on the roads or tracks and it struck me that this was completely different from the way that most people would have lived on the land in the Georgian/Regency period.

All this was a far cry from our boat, which was comfortable if not luxurious with a hot shower and four poster bed! But what was the same was that you get a very different perspective when travelling by water than you do on land. Roads disappear, as does any sense of distance and direction (at least it did for me!) Time seems to slow down (although maybe that is just the effect of being on holiday!)

At the wonderful Museum of the Broads I read up a lot more about the history of the Norfolk Broads.One of the boatmen we met commented that there wasn't much historical fiction that features the Norfolk Broads. This is surprising since it's such an evocative landscape and there is so much history to write about! I can feel a series coming on…

All this from a book that inspired me when I read it as a child! And knowing what voracious and wide-ranging readers we all are I wondered if there was a book you had read as a child - or as an adult - that inspired you to visit a particular place, and whether it lived up to the expectation when you went there?

Out for a Drive

Nicola here, fresh back from a trip to North Devon and the National Carriage Museum at Arlington Court. I’ve always wanted to visit the carriage museum because although I have read a lot about 18th and 19th century carriages, and seen lots of pictures, nothing compares with the experience of seeing a carriage or riding in one. The other reason I wanted to go to Arlington is because of the connection to Ashdown House, as the Craven State Chariot is one of the stars of their collection. So here, for those of you who also have a love of elegant carriages (and fast cars!) is a quick run down of the main types of early to mid 19th century carriage in the collection and how they compare to today’s vehicles, with thanks to the National Trust at Arlington for providing me with extra information and photos. If you want to see larger versions of the pictures you can click on them for a bigger image.

The state coach or state chariot

At the top of the pile as far as carriages were concerned was the state coach or state chariot. This was used only by the nobility. Frank Huggett in Carriages at Eight comments that in the 19th century, wealthy aristocrats needed seven or eight carriages to preserve their distinction from the rising middle class and provide a suitable carriage for every aspect of their social life. The state coach was used for important occasions such as the state opening of parliament or society weddings and grand occasions. This is the equivalent of the Rolls Royce with chauffeur.

The state coach could carry four passengers in the body, the chariot two. These coaches would be pulled by a pair of horses and driven by a coachman. Two footmen would stand on the footman’s cushion, the padded platform behind the body of the coach. A state coach or chariot would have exceptionally fine decoration. The Craven chariot (pictured), for example, has silver-plated axle caps, a
silver plated family crest and other carriage “furniture.” It also has a sumptuous blue damask interior. For formal occasions the coachman wore full livery with powdered wig, tricorn hat, braided livery coat, white plush breeches, white silk stockings and silver-buckled shoes. The footmen wore similar livery except that they wore bicorn or cocked hats. The Cravens also had the ultimate carriage decoration of “matching footmen,” identical twins who rode on the back. The footmen carried silver topped staves known as wands, which were used to keep the crowds at bay. They were expected to keep completely motionless except when needed for crowd control! The Craven state chariot was absolutely gorgeous inside, the last word in elegance and comfort. That said it was also very cosy. I had imagined that there would be more space. However if one wanted an intimate chat on the way to the state opening of parliament then it would be just the thing!

The Barouche

The barouche was the equivalent of the family car, albeit a very plush family car. The barouche could hold four passengers and it is mentioned a number of times in the writing of Jane Austen as the type of vehicle owned by a rich family – the Bertrams of Mansfield Park, for example. It was something to aspire to. Mrs John Dashwood hankered after one in Sense and Sensibility. Originally known as German Wagons because they were first made in Germany, the early barouches were heavy vehicles. They were also the ultimate in elegance and the chosen vehicle in which to show off in the park.

On a more practical note, though, a travelling barouche was very comfortable for those long journeys between your country estates or even abroad. The travelling barouches needed to be sturdier than the town ones. It could be coachman or postillion-driven and required four horses, with the horses and postillions hired at the inns en route. The team would be changed every ten to twelve miles. If you used postillions they would ride the two nearside horses and a footman rode on the hind boot – the rumble seat – and it was his responsibility to apply the brake when travelling down hill. It was in a travelling barouche or travelling chariot that the young sprigs of nobility made the Grand Tour of Europe in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

This particular travelling chariot (above) belonged to Gibbs Crawford Antrobus who used it in his career as a diplomat. He was a junior secretary under Lord Castelreagh at the Congress of Vienna in 1814-1815 and subsequently Envoy Extraordinary and State Plenipotentiary for George IV to the kingdom of the two Sicilies. Isn't it gorgeously plush inside!

Many travelling barouches contained a “dormeuse boot” (which my auto correct changed to dormouse boot) with panels inside the coach that would fold down to allow the passengers to stretch their legs at full length in order to sleep (see picture on the right). Even so it looked pretty cramped and I wouldn’t have fancied trying to sleep in it.

One of the details that I loved in the travelling chariot was the sword case that was built into the back of the coach and accessible only from inside, a necessary precaution when one was travelling through uncharted or bandit ridden countryside!(pictured).

 The Phaeton

The phaeton was a four-wheeled carriage driven by the owner and never by their
professional coachman. It could be drawn by two or four horses and given its relatively small size I imagine it would be pretty fast with four. The high perch phaeton was very popular at the end of the 18th century and is mentioned a lot in the books of Georgette Heyer, for example, as a fast and fashionable carriage for young men to drive and show off in. However as you get into the 19th century the phaeton became lower, safer and more practical. Lady Catherine De Bourgh drove her own phaeton in Pride and Prejudice. There were bigger, tougher versions of the phaeton that were for the country sportsman rather than for town driving. The Mail Phaeton (so called because it used the same springs that a mail coach did) was built for country driving and was the vehicle of choice of the sporting gentleman – a Land Rover equivalent or SUV.

The name phaeton, is of course derived from Greek mythology, named for Phaeton the son of Helios, the Sun God, who drove his father’s chariot. The horses bolted and almost set fire to the earth before they were stopped, a rather neat metaphor for some of the driving we would surely have seen on the Regency streets had we been there!

The Curricle

Ah, the curricle! The racing car equivalent of the Regency period! There are no curricles in the collection at Arlington, perhaps because they were so light, fast and fashionable that they did not survive. Elegant and with a skeletal structure, curricles were drawn by a pair of horses, the aim being to show off your driving skills and your perfectly matched horses.

One thing I especially loved about Arlington was that it is still a working stables. You can go into the tack room and smell the leather of the harness and watch the carriage horses at work, or take a drive around the estate. You can even take carriage-driving lessons if you really want to get hands on experience.

I hope you have enjoyed this canter through the Arlington carriage collection. For more details on carriage interiors and decoration, check out the excellent blog post by Lesley-Anne McLeod here and to see the Arlington collection click here.

Do you fancy driving your own Regency phaeton or curricle, or would you prefer to travel in a coachman-driven carriage? What about travelling long distances with a dormeuse boot to sleep in? And have you enjoyed any historical romances that feature road trips or fast carriages?

Phoenix Falling: The Story Behind the Story

by Mary Jo

Today’s blog is another in my occasional series of showing how stories come together.  This time I’m dissecting the second in my contemporary romance series: the book what was once called The Spiral Path and I recently renamed Phoenix Falling in the relaunched Starting Over Series.

 

Setting the Scene:

My historical series are all built around men who became friends as schoolboys, so I decided to build my contemporary series around a group of female friends.  They met as girls at a real school, Baltimore’s Friends School, which is a Quaker institution, though students come from all backgrounds. 

Why Baltimore?  Because writing contemporary would represent so many challenges in other areas that I thought it would be nice not to spend much time researching the setting.  Hence, using my home town, Baltimore, which has texture and character and might seem exotic to people who've never been here. <G> 

The first and third books in the trilogy are set in Baltimore, but except for a few scenes, Phoenix Falling is set in California, New Mexico, and England. 

The Genesis:

One inspiration for the story was reading in the Baltimore Sun about Cass Elliot (real name: Ellen Naomi Cohen), one of the singers in the famous 60’s rock group, the Mamas and the Papas. 

Cass died at age 32, leaving a daughter by an unknown father.  The girl was sent back East to be raised by Cass’s family.  That gave me the idea for a heroine whose mother was a famous rock singer who died too young, leaving a child who was sent to Baltimore to live with her cold, disapproving grandparents. 

The Characters

Hence, Raine Marlowe, real name Rainbow. Rainey survived emotionally because of the friendships she formed at school and she stays in touch with Kate and Val and the others.  But she has talent and desire, so off she goes to Hollywood to become an actress.

The Story:

I'm not sure why I decided on a Hollywood/movie making set-up, but I liked the idea of writing about creative process, and what kind of people do the hard work of creating the magic.  The book begins with Rainey approaching her estranged husband, Kenzie Scott, to ask if he’ll star in the movie she wants to make from a Victorian novel that she loves.  The Centurion is about an officer in one of Queen Victoria’s “little wars,” and the terrible price that is paid for empire.  Though I invented the novel, the little wars were real enough, and so is the cost of empire. 

After separating from Kenzie, Rainey had thrown herself into writing a script and putting together a budget as a distraction from her pain.  But in order to get the financing, she needs a “bankable” star—and Kenzie is a superstar, as well as a contender for my most tortured hero ever.  Think Pierce Brosnan in his 30s—gorgeous, enigmatic, and very British.

The story is about a lot of things, and one of the central questions is how can two people build a lasting relationship in the middle of the craziness of celebrity.  Rainey is a successful Oscar nominated actress, while Kenzie is a tabloid darling whose every date becomes fodder for speculation. 

Rainey and Kenzie fall in love and impulsively marry after they finish making a new version of The Scarlet Pimpernel together.  The love and caring are real, but the pressures and separations crack their marriage. 

But because Rainey needs Kenzie and he can't say no to her, he agrees to do the movie without even reading the script.  Which turns out to be a terrible mistake, since the central conflict of The Centurion cuts dangerously close to the horrors of his childhood. Playing John Randall, the brave, tormented British officer, brings Kenzie closer and closer to the breaking point. 

The situation is worsened when the actress cast as the love interest quits before shooting begins, and Rainey must take on the role herself.  It turns out that the heroine, Sarah Masterson, has a loving loyalty which freaks Rainey out because of her personal commitment issues. 

If that isn't bad enough, just as shooting wraps up, a British paparazzo with an apparent grudge against Kenzie explodes a scandalous accusation that pushes Kenzie over the edge.

Rainey moves in to protect her husband, not knowing if the story is true or not, and not really caring.  She’s never stopped loving Kenzie, and she’ll do anything to save his sanity.  They retreat to the remote New Mexican ranch that he’d bought on impulse. There the layers of pain and secrets are revealed, and the healing begins. 

The Research:

I love this story, and the research was immense.  I read all kinds of memoirs like screenwriter William Goldman’s witty, informative Adventures in the Screen Trade and Emma Thompson’s The Sense and Sensibility Screenplay and Diaries, in which she recounts all the work that went into her Oscar winning screenplay for Jane Austen’s famous novel, and what it was like to play the lead in the movie after she’d written the script. 

Also, a friend of mine is the sister-in-law of a director who was shooting a movie in Baltimore, and she was able to get me onto the set for a day.  (Shooting a movie is a really, really boring process, I learned. <G>)

I interviewed my friend Laura Resnick who had studied at one of London’s famous schools of drama to get a sense of what Kenzie’s time at the famous Royal Academy of Dramatic Art would have been like.

I talked to a young woman who had been a Hollywood personal assistant, a class of people who are like magical elves, doing anything and everything necessary to make a star’s life run smoothly.

I had once read about a B&B carved into a cliff in New Mexico, and thought, “Wouldn’t that be a great place for Rainey and Kenzie to go for a few hours of peace and quiet!” 

I'd also read about a monastery far off the beaten path in northern New Mexico.  The Benedictine Monastery of Christ in the Desert was literally the very first site I visited back in the ‘90s when I got an internet capable computer.  I used the monastery for Tom Corsi, a secondary character in Stirring the Embers. He's living in the monastery as a novice and trying to decide whether or not to take final vows.  A warm and tolerant man, he’s there when Rainey needs to talk.

One of the most important elements was the labyrinth, which became the central metaphor for the book, and which provided the original title for the book, The Spiral Path. I’ve blogged about labyrinths in the past, and the symbolism is perfect for the complicated relationship between Rainey and Kenzie.  Plus, there is a real labyrinth that Kenzie makes as he comes to terms with his painful past.

The research was fascinating, but the heart of the story is two complicated people trying to rebuild the loving marriage that they both desperately need.  Is there a happy ending?  Of course!  My stories are always about healing and reconciliation, and never more than in Phoenix Falling.

What’s behind the new title?  I think of Kenzie as like a phoenix who'd built a soaring and successful life from the ashes of a catastrophic childhood.  When his life is shattered again, will he have the strength to rebuild? 

With Rainey’s love and understanding, yes. Here’s an excerpt of Rainey’s first meeting with Kenzie.

I’ll be giving a copy of the original print edition of The Spiral Path to one person who leaves a comment between now and midnight Tuesday.  Or if you’re impatient, you can download the e-book of Phoenix Falling from any of the major online bookstores.  If you do read the story, I hope you love Kenzie and Rainey as much as I do.

Mary Jo