Sunday, May 26, 2013

A Private Regency Ball

by Maria Grace


“The characteristic of an English country dance is that of gay simplicity. The steps should be few and easy, and the corresponding motion of the arms and body unaffected, modest, and graceful.” – The Mirror of Graces, 1811 
 
In a society governed by strict rules regulating the interaction of the sexes, the dance floor provided one of the only places marriage partners could meet and courtships might blossom. The ballroom guaranteed respectability and proper conduct for all parties since they were carefully regulated and chaperoned. Even so, under cover of the music and in the guise of the dance, young people could talk and even touch in ways not permitted elsewhere.

As far as the opportunity to meet people went, private balls had the very great advantage over public ones in that the hosts controlled who attended. One could be assured of the quality of guests at a grand house, so chaperons could rest a little easier that their charge was not interacting with someone below her station.

Hosting a ball was no small matter. Musicians had to be hired and supper for all the guests provided. Cards or invitations were sent out no less than two to three weeks prior to the event and a reply was imperative with a day or two. After the ball, thank you notes were expected of all the guests in appreciation for the hospitality.



Balls were, of course, formal occasions which allowed one to show off their finery. But even here, there were degrees of formality. The dress ball which usually began with minuets was the most formal, a cotillion ball somewhat less so. ‘Undress’ or ‘fancy’ balls invited the guests to appear all manner of historical or fanciful costumes. Whatever the form of dress, gloves were essential lest the dancers touch one another directly.

Opening the ball

Early in the Regency era, balls were opened with a minuet. By the early 1800’s the practice fell from favor as it took far too long for all the couples to have a turn to display in the slow, elegant dance.

Later in the period, the ball would be opened by the hostess, the lady of highest rank or the person in whose honor the ball was given (like a debutant or new bride) who took the top position of the first dance. The top lady would ‘call the dance’, determining the figures, steps and music to be danced. Polite young ladies were cautioned that if they should lead a dance they should not make the figures too difficult for the other dancers, especially if there were younger dancers present.

Dance Partners



Every dance required a partner. At a private ball, unlike a public assembly, everyone was considered introduced, so any young man could ask any young woman to dance. A young lady signaled she was interested in dancing by pinning up the train of her gown. If asked to dance, she could not refuse unless she did not intend to dance for the rest of the night.

Gentlemen, unless they retired to the card room, were expected to engage a variety of partners throughout the evening. Failing to do so was an affront to all the guests. A gentleman might request a dance in advance, but saving more than two dances for a particular partner was detrimental to a young lady’s reputation.

Even two dances signaled to observers that the gentleman in question had a particular interest in her. The day after a ball, a gentleman would typically call upon his principle partner, so a young lady who danced two sets with same gentleman might rightfully expect continued acquaintance with him.

Oftentimes women outnumbered men at these affairs. As a result, it was not uncommon for women to dance with other women rather than sit out the entire evening.

Food



Halfway through the evening, dancers would pause to refresh themselves with a meal. Depending on the hostess, the ladies might proceed to the dining room together, parading in rank order, or might be escorted in on the arm of a gentleman who rank matched their own.

One’s dance partner for the ‘supper dance’ usually would be one’s dining partner for the meal as well.

Each gentleman would serve himself and his neighbors from the dishes within his reach. He also poured wine for the ladies near them. Soup, especially white soup made from veal or chicken stock, egg yolks, ground almonds and cream) served with negus(sugar mixed with water and wine, served hot) were staples. If a dish was required from another part of the table, a manservant would be sent to fetch it. It was not good form to ask a neighbor to pass a dish. It was equally bad manners for the ladies to help themselves or to ask for wine.



During dinner, a gentleman would be expected to entertain the ladies nearest him with engaging conversation. The list of unacceptable topics far outnumbered the acceptable ones. A polite individual did not ask direct personal questions of someone they had just met.

To question or even compliment anyone else on the details of their dress might also be regarded as impertinent. Scandal and gossip should be omitted from public conversation. Any references to pregnancy, childbirth, or other natural bodily functions were considered coarse and carefully sidestepped. A man could sometimes discuss his hunters or driving horses in the presence of ladies though it was generally discouraged.

Dances

Supper was quite necessary as most of the ball dances were lively and bouncy. Country dances, the scotch reel, cotillion, quadrille made up most of the dancing.

One dance not likely to be found in balls held in the first decade of the 19th century was the waltz. When it was first introduced, the waltz was regarded as shocking because of the physical contact involved. However by 1812, it was a regular feature of private London balls, according to Lady Caroline Lamb--although Lord Byron was scandalized by the prospect of people "embracing" on the dance floor. It was unlikely to have been seen often in public assemblies until the latter part of the Regency era, and even then, not often.

An example of the Quadrille

A Lady of Distinction. Regency Etiquette, the Mirror of Graces (1811). R.L. Shep Publications (1997)
Day, Malcom   -   Voices from the World of Jane Austen. David & Charles (2006)
Lane, Maggie   -   Jane Austen's World. Carlton Books (2005)
Laudermilk, Sharon & Hamlin, Teresa L.  The Regency Companion . Garland Publishing (1989)
Ross, Josephine   -   Jane Austen's Guide to Good Manners. Bloomsbury USA (2006)
Selwyn, David   -   Jane Austen & Leisure. The Hambledon Press (1999)
Sullivan, Margaret C.   -   The Jane Austen Handbook. Quirk Books (2007)
Period References
The Complete System of English Country Dancing – 1815 (click to download pdf) ~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Maria Grace is the author of Darcy's Decision and The Future Mrs. Darcy. Click here to find her books on Amazon. For more on her writing and other Random Bits of Fascination, visit her website. You can also like her on Facebook, follow on Twitter or email her.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

A Glimpse Inside the Roman Home

by Mark Patton


When archaeologists excavate a Roman house in Britain, they typically find only the foundations. The walls, ceilings and roof-timbers have always disappeared and, even if the concrete or mosaic floors remain intact, the buildings had, in most cases, been abandoned by their owners before they were buried, leaving only rubbish behind. It can make it quite difficult to imagine what the domestic world of Roman times was really like, the more so since Roman literature has almost nothing to say about the home lives of ordinary people. (The Satyricon - www.sacredtexts.com/cla/petro/satyr - is a notable exception, but it provides only a few tantalising hints).

                            Roman houses under excavation at Silchester.

The Pompeii & Herculaneum exhibition currently showing (until 29th September) at the British Museum (www.britishmuseum.org) puts some welcome flesh on the normally bare archaeological bones. The focus of the exhibition is very specifically on domestic life and, although it includes objects from across the two towns destroyed by the eruption of 79 AD, the starting point around which everything else is structured is the floor-plan of one specific home, the "House of the Tragic Poet," in Pompeii.

The "House of the Tragic Poet," Pompeii. 1. Entrance. 2. Shops. 3. Atrium (hall). 6. Cubiculae (bedrooms). 7. Tablinum (study). 10. Peristyle & garden. 12-14. Cubiculae. 15. "Living room."

Because of the way in which Pompeii and Herculaneum were destroyed, objects were preserved that have rarely survived elsewhere, and certainly not in Roman Britain. From kitchen utensils to chamber-pots, food-warmers and portable stoves, wooden stools, tables and a baby's cradle, these objects are like the missing pieces in an ancient and very incomplete jigsaw puzzle.

                                         Wooden bed-side table.

There are some significant surprises, too. It has long been known that religion played a major part in most Roman homes, with domestic altars and shrines to the Lares, or household gods. What is less well known is that the slaves of the household often had their own shrine, typically located in or adjacent to the kitchen.

                               Reconstruction of a kitchen shrine from a Pompeian house.

We might not expect to see graffiti in our own homes, but it is present in many Pompeian ones: was it a subtle means by which slaves could communicate their concerns with one another or even with their masters, without having to take the risk of speaking up publicly and being identified individually?

                              Graffiti from Pompeian houses.

Pompeians of the 1st Century AD seem to have been unembarassed by nudity or by depictions of sex. Early scholars of Pompeii often assumed that a building adorned with sexually explicit images must be a brothel. There certainly were brothels in Pompeii and Herculaneum (and, presumably, in all the major towns of Roman Britain), but there are also plenty of sexually explicit wall-paintings in what appear to have been regular family homes. In some of the imagery, and in the graffiti, one starts to pick up an echo of the sense of humour prevalent, perhaps especially among the slaves, and providing us with a glimpse, not only into the Roman home, but also into the Roman mind.

Mosaic of a skeleton bearing wine to the table. An Epicurean exhortation to enjoy life whilst one may or a statement about householders who work their slaves to death?

Of course, Pompeii and Herculaneum were not Silchester or Caerwent, and we cannot take the analogies too far, or make too many assumptions. I doubt, however, that I will ever look at a family home of the 1st Century AD (whether in Britain or in Italy) in quite the same way again. More than anything, it is the garish colours and the raucous noise of the Pompeian houses that will stay with me and influence my writing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark Patton's debut novel, Undreamed Shores, was published by Crooked Cat Publications in 2012. His second novel, An Accidental King, will be published by the same imprint on July 5th. Further information can be found at www.mark-patton.co.uk and http://mark-patton.blogspot.co.uk.

Friday, May 24, 2013

Women’s Rights in Anglo-Saxon England ~ Why They Were Much Greater than You Think

by Octavia Randolph

Two Saxon LadiesHere in the 21st century it is easy, and even natural, to believe in an ever-improving continuum of human rights. We look back to the banning of slavery in Britain in 1834, the signing of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution of the United States in 1865, the granting of the vote to women in the US in 1920 and in Britain in 1928, the passing of Civil Rights laws in the 1960’s, recent legal recognition of same sex marriage in many nations, and feel: “This is the natural progression of things. People gain more rights as time goes on.”

But you might be surprised to learn that if you are of English descent, your maternal ancestors of 1000 years ago enjoyed more legal rights than did your great grandmother. Shocking, but true.

Women’s legal rights under, say King Ælfred the Great (King of Wessex 844-899 CE) were far greater than under Queen Victoria (reigned 1837-1901). (Indeed, the Victorian era was the nadir of women’s rights in Britain, as women were reduced to the state of near-complete legal dependence on fathers and husbands, and divorce required an act of Parliament until 1857. The most powerful woman in the world repeatedly claimed her own sex unfit to win suffrage. But that is another essay…)

The fact is that women enjoyed legal rights under Anglo-Saxon law that they were to lose after the Battle of Hastings (1066) and for many hundreds of years afterwards. So let us return to the more congenial 9th century, and learn more.

Ælfred’s 9th century law code has survived, and provides us with valuable insight into women’s legal status. His laws were predicated upon those of earlier kings, particularly Ine, King of the West Saxons (688-726). In his preface, Ælfred explains that he examined many existing law codes from the Old Testament to those of previous Anglo-Saxon kings in neighbouring kingdoms:
Then I, King Ælfred, gathered them together and ordered to be written many of the ones that our forefathers observed - those that pleased me; and many of the ones that did not please me I rejected with the advice of my councillors, and commanded them to be observed in a different way. For I dared not presume to set down in writing at all many of my own, since it was unknown to me what would please those who should come after us. But those which I found either in the days of Ine, my kinsman, or of Offa, king of the Mercians, or of Ælthelberht (who first among the English people received baptism), and which seemed to me most just, I collected herein, and omitted the others.
Crimes are categorised along class lines. Here are penalties owed by men for adultery:
If anyone lies with the wife of a twelve-hundred man, he is to pay 120 shillings compensation to the husband; to a six-hundred man, he is to pay 100 shillings compensation; to a ceorl, he is to pay forty shillings compensation.
A "twelve-hundred man" refers to the individual's wergild (man-gold), or valuation. Twelve hundred shillings would signify a nobleman, or at least a thegn (the forerunner of the later knight). The ceorl ("churl") was a common free man, usually an agricultural worker, but possibly a skilled craftsman as well. The ceorl's wergild was set at 200 shillings. We do not know the exact figure of Ælfred's own wergild, but it is thought to have been 6,000 shillings.

Wergild was an important legal concept, for without it all feuds were settled "eye for an eye": If you killed my kinsman, I killed your kinsman. If you raped my daughter, I raped yours. Wergild, the notion of a cash valuation for each person's life, allowed the ruling noble to command that grievances be redressed not by violence but by silver or gold payments, thus limiting the escalation of vendetta.

All persons (except slaves) had a wergild, and Ælfred's laws spell out reparations for the loss of bodily parts as well, even unto the loss of the little fingernail (one shilling fine).

Anglo-Saxon Nun
Don't kidnap this nun...
Ælfred's laws cover penalties owed for kidnapping (or luring) a woman from a nunnery; for assault, sexual and otherwise, of a woman; rape of a slave woman; rape of underage girls; and for the death of a pregnant woman. While it is true that the financial penalties exacted from the wrongdoer typically went to the women’s father or husband, it is also true that crimes against women were treated with as much seriousness as crimes against men. And no woman of any age could be forced into marriage:
No woman or maiden shall ever be forced to marry one whom she dislikes, nor be sold for money.
Other rights that Anglo-Saxon women enjoyed were the right to own land in her own name, and to sell such land or give it away without her father's or husband's consent; the right to defend herself in court; and the right to act as compurgator in law suits; that is, to testify to another's truthfulness. She could also freely manumit her slaves. Her morgen-gifu, or morning-gift, that gift of land, jewellry, livestock or such that a bride received from her new husband the morning after their wedding, was hers to keep for life. (Compare these rights to those of your great grandmother in London, the chattel of her father until marriage and then the legal “property” of her husband afterward.)

Weaver
I'm taking this loom with me when I go
One of the greatest indicators of women’s rights is the women’s ability to end an abusive or otherwise unsatisfactory marriage. Divorce was extremely common amongst upper-class Anglo-Saxons; indeed (and to the chagrin of the Church), both men and women practised serial “marrying up” as a form of social climbing. (More humble folk simply separated without ado, to take up with another or remain single as they wished.)

Early divorce laws granted the wife half the household goods, including any goods she had brought into the union, and full custody of the children. As only women’s wills from the era mention the disposition of things such as linens, furniture, plate, and so on, there is reason to assume that the majority of household furnishings by default followed the woman in case of divorce. Instead of impoverishing women, divorce laws ensured an equitable sharing of goods and property.

All of this was to come to a crushing end after the catastrophe of October 1066. The Normans (“northmen”) carried across the Channel with them the vestiges of their earlier Viking mores towards property and women. A legal “golden age” for English women had come to an end.

In the 9th century daughters inherited goods or land from either parent, or both, and these bequests were theirs without challenge or question. One exception was that of heathens: in the opening of The Circle of Ceridwen the eponymous character is denied her inheritance from her uncle because as a heathen she had no standing in the eyes of the law. Her rightful lands were given to a nearby priory for its maintenance, and she became their ward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Octavia Randolph is the author of The Circle of Ceridwen Trilogy.  Young women with courage. Swords with names. Vikings with tattoos. Warfare. Passion. Survival. Sheep. And Other Good Things...

For more about Anglo-Saxon law and society, I highly recommend The Beginnings of English Society by Dorothy Whitelock, Penguin Books 1974; and Alfred the Great: Asser's Life of King Alfred and Other Contemporary Sources, translated by Simon Keynes and Michael Lapidge, Penguin Books 1983, from which I excerpted portions of Ælfred's law code.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Changing the Face of London - the Great Fire of 1666


by Regina Jeffers

The development of new standards and statutes after The Great Fire of 1666 changed London forever. The years following the fire saw the building of St Paul’s Cathedral, along with numerous other churches. Public buildings and domestic buildings introduced new standards of design, many still enforced today.

After the fire, Sir Matthew Hale drew up An Act for Rebuilding the City of London. Compiled jointly by City authorities and the Privy Council, this Act was a comprehensive statute. An earlier Act, the Fire of London Disputes Act 1666, had set up a court to settle disputes arising from buildings destroyed by fire. This Act regulated the rebuilding as well as authorizing the City of London Corporation to reopen and widen roads, making the anniversary of the fire a feast day and erecting the Monument. A duty of one shilling on a tonne of coal was imposed to pay for all these measures.



Technical advisers, comprised of the City’s surveyors (Robert Hooke, Edward Jerman, and Peter Mills) and the Principal Architect, Sir Christopher Wren, were charged with rebuilding of the City. According to W. G. Bell’s The Great Fire of London, Wren’s efforts were centered on St Paul and other churches. The initial plan to rebuild the City included:
1.    The need to raise funds to rebuild the public (NOT the private) buildings by levying a duty on coal
2.    The limited standardization of the buildings, chiefly when it came to fire resistance
3.    Forethought regarding the previous deficiencies in the City’s layout

The most obvious improvement to the streets was the development of King Street and the conversion of Queen Street from a narrow lane to a street, which would hold horse-drawn traffic. These two changes provided easy access from Guildhall to the Thames.  Guildhall is the only stone building not belonging to the Church to have survived the Great Fire. It is a building off Gresham and Basinghall streets, in the wards of Bassishaw and Cheap. It has been used as a town hall for several hundred years, and is still the ceremonial and administrative centre of the City of London.

The standardization of the building styles proved more beneficial. The Act was the first time such measures were taken. The City divided the four categories:

Neither more nor less than four storeys’ houses were permitted on ‘high and principal streets.’
Three storeys’ houses on ‘streets and lanes of note.’
Two storeys’ houses on ‘by-lanes.’
Houses of ‘the greatest bigness,’ which “did not front the street but which lay behind, with courtyards and gardens” were limited to four storeys.

Houses were to have walls of brick or stone, but the Act went as far as setting thickness of the walls at various heights, as well as the timber scantlings and the ceiling heights of the various floors. For the larger houses, a first floor balcony was required, with a ‘pent house’ below, which protected pedestrians from rainfall. The exteriors were left to the owners’ tastes. There were plenty vagaries of taste displayed.



Although the City struggled to finance its part of the rebuilding, private wealth prevailed. According to Bell, by the spring of 1668, 1600 houses were under development. In 1670, fourteen churches broke ground. By the time Ogilby and Morgan produced their large-scale map of London in 1677, the City was well on its way to new greatness. The original map is 8 feet 5 inches by 4 feet 7 inches in 20 sheets.

In 1894, the British Museum granted permission to the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society to make a reduced copy of the source. An excellent source for viewing the individual sheets of the map is British History Online. The map’s authors surveyed every corner of the City with each individual house noted. In addition, John Strype gives those interested in this time a compete catalog of every street, lane, alley, court, and yard in one square mile of the city. His observations are recorded in Strype’s 1720 edition of Stow’s Survey. To each noted structure, Strype includes personal comments describing the area in which the item sat, in such terms as “indifferent good” and “a pretty open place.”

Public buildings fell into two categories:

The various guildhalls were “regular City architecture.” These stood some distance from the street, with small courtyards and gardens. Master craftsmen built the majority of these establishments, and several survive, most notably Skinners’ Hall and Vintners’ Hall and Apothecaries’ Hall.



The Vintners’ Hall likely existed as early as the 12th Century and received a Royal Charter in 1363. The Vintners Hall is situated by Southwark Bridge, in Vintry ward. The Worshipful Company of Skinners is one of the Livery Companies in London. It was originally an association of those engaged in the trade of skins and furs. It has evolved into an educational and charitable instution, supporting the Tonbridge School and several others.

The Apothecaries’ Hall is based in Blackfriars. The building, originally part of the Dominican priory of Black Friars, was called Cobham House prior to its purchase by the society in 1632. The original building was destroyed in the Great Fire. A new hall was built on the same site in 1672 to the design of Edward Jerman; an “Elaboratory” was included at the time for the first ever large-scale manufacture of drugs.

Sir Christopher Wren’s “brilliance” is displayed when one looks upon its churches. While the house and buildings rose no more that forty feet, Wren’s fifty steeples dominated the skyline. With its spiritual history of the 17th Century firmly instilled, St Paul’s easily outshines the others.

Wren had earlier made a journey to Paris in 1665, where he studied the architecture of the city, as well as the drawings of Bernini, the great Italian sculptor and architect. He made his first designs for St Paul’s upon his return, but the Great Fire changed his plans. He submitted his plans for rebuilding the city to King Charles II, although the plans were never adopted.

With his appointment as King’s Surveyor of Works in 1669, Wren had a presence in the general process of rebuilding, but was not directly involved in the designs for houses and guildhalls. Although each did not represent Wren’s own fully developed design, he was personally responsible for the rebuilding of 51 churches.


~~~~~~~~~~~~

Regina Jeffers loves all things Austen and is the author of several novels, including Darcy’s Temptation, Captain Wentworth’s Persuasion, The Disappearance of Georgiana Darcy and Second Chances: The Courtship Wars .

Her website is: www.rjeffers.com

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

A Hound? No sir, you have it wrong!

by Anna Belfrage


At times, one stumbles upon things by accident.

“… and that concludes today’s programmes on typefaces. I hope you enjoyed learning more about Baskerville.”

I have no interest in typefaces. I do, however, react to names I recognise, and Baskerville was such a name, conjuring up the hideous image of a slavering, murderous giant of a hound. It intrigued me, that this fictional horror should have given his name to a typeface. He hadn’t, as it turned out. Instead, it seems the hound takes his name from the designer of the typeface.

John Baskerville was born in Worcestershire in 1706, but would spend most of his life in Birmingham. While his family was financially comfortable, it was not comfortable enough to have young John loitering about as a gentleman, and so at the early age of 17, John was already hard at work, engraving and designing tombstones. (Given John’s future adventures as a corpse, this early trade is quite ironic, but more about that later) Apparently, John took to this trade with aplomb, stone chips flying as he pummelled each perfect, individual letter into being on whatever stone the deceased was to lie under.

Birmingham as it would have been when John moved there in the early 18th century

As a side-line, John taught writing and book-keeping, and when his father died in 1738, this talented young man invested his inheritance in the lacquering (or "japanning") industry. Bright, curious and innovative, John Baskerville went on to revolutionise the industry, becoming something of a household name with his “japanned” goods. Trays, bread baskets, useful little boxes – he inundated the market with these pretty trifles at (relatively) affordable prices, thereby recouping exponentially on his original investment.

Now very, very rich, John Baskerville enjoyed flaunting his wealth. His carriage was a rolling advertisement for his business, every single square inch covered by exquisite – and expensive – lacquer work. His clothes were always ostentatious, going to the extreme of being adorned with gold lace on important occasions, and he made a comfortable home for himself in the mansion Easy Hill, just outside of Birmingham.

Easy Hill - a gutted shell of its former glory after the 1791 riots
 At this point in time John was the man about town, no doubt with quite the line-up of potential wives presented to him. John wasn’t interested. He had met the woman of his life some years earlier and he scandalised all of Birmingham by having his beloved Mrs Eaves move in with him. Mr Eaves was not in a position to protest; a forger, he had fled the country to avoid arrest.

Far worse than his disreputable liason with Sarah Eaves, was the fact that John was an outspoken atheist. This made him something of an outcast in polite society – not that it seems to have bothered him unduly. No, John had other matters on his mind, first and foremost how to improve the art of printing.

With his background as an engraver, John was not all that impressed by the quality of much of the printed work at the time, and at the age of 44 he focused his considerable intellect on re-engineering the entire printing business. Due to a combination of paper, ink and types, most volumes printed in the early 18th century had lettering that was somewhat indistinct around the edges, and this John Baskerville did not like. He wanted his typeface bold and clean cut, he wanted the text to bounce off the page with consistent colour and sharpness.

John started by designing a typeface. He went on to experiment with woven paper, a relatively new product at the time. He used new types of ink and to all this novelty he added the final touch of introducing heat in the printing process, using heated copper cylinders to set the type on. (Why heat, one might ask. Heat dries the ink faster, thereby minimising risk for smudging.)

As a financial professional, I regard all this innovation with a certain level of suspicion, having learnt the hard way that not all innovations pay their way. After all, if people were willing to accept uneven colour in the ink, somewhat smudged letters and a deficient paper quality, who would be willing to pay for Baskerville’s books? John himself couldn't care less. He didn't need the money, he was doing this for Science, for Art (He was a member of the Royal Society of Arts, through which he came into contact with another famous printer, Benjamin Franklin).

John wanted to print beautiful books and beautiful books did he print, his most noteworthy contribution being a splendid folio Bible – even today considered one of the most beautiful Bibles ever made – which can be perceived as somewhat hypocritical given his beliefs, but there you are.

John Baskerville by James Millar
I envision John as being a rather content man in his last two decades. A woman he loved by his side, a successful business to fund his interest in his beloved printing, a life of ease and comfort and the respect of his contemporaries – well, not all of them, but those who didn't approve of him were those John didn't much approve of either.

Despite the lavish effort he had expended on his printed version of the Bible, John remained to his death an atheist, leaving firm instructions that he was to be buried in unconsecrated ground. A bereaved Sarah ensured his last wishes were respected, burying him on the grounds of their home. Some sources say John insisted on being buried standing up, but I find that difficult to believe, so let’s just assume he had a regular burial with someone uttering commemorative words while leaving any mention of God, the hereafter or “dust to dust” out of it.

That could have been the end of Mr Baskerville , but his house was wrecked in the Priestley Riots of the 1790's, the land was sold and in the first decades of the 19th century a canal was dug through his former property, bringing his lead coffin to light in 1821. The coffin was opened, and there, lo and behold, was Mr Baskerville, in surprisingly good condition despite almost five decades underground.

People didn't know what to do with him – the man was a confirmed atheist, so placing him in a church or a graveyard was out of the question, and apparently reburying him in a park somewhere was not considered an alternative. His coffin became a commodity, with one intrepid soul earning quite a lot of money by displaying his body to whoever might want to see it. Many did… All this exposure to fresh air was not doing our dead friend any good, and as a consequence a cloying odour clung to the remains. So the coffin was nailed shut, shoved into a warehouse and left there for several years.

At some point the warehouse was sold – including the coffin – and the new tenant, a plumber used the coffin as a workbench for a number of years, now and then enhancing his income by allowing people a peek at the by now rather decomposed remains. Mr Baskerville was becoming something of a deadweight (!) round the poor plumber’s neck. He didn't want an unburied body in his workshop – who would – but the available burial grounds were closed to this particular coffin, and so the plumber was more than relieved when he was approached by a certain Mr Nott, a bookseller who was very disturbed by the whole spectacle of Mr Baskerville’s rotting corpse.

Mr Nott had devised a cunning plan. As not one single church was prepared to allow Mr Baskerville to rest in their precincts, he decided to smuggle the coffin into his own private family vault, located in Christ Church. Picture the scene before you. It is dark – it has to be – the lead coffin weighs a ton – it must – the bribed warden is standing by the door hissing that they must hurry – easy to say when you’re not doing the carrying – and on top of that it was probably raining – it always rains in England when you least need it. Whatever the case, the mission succeeded, the coffin was safely stowed in the vault, and while Mr Baskerville might be rotating in disgust at being on consecrated ground, no one was around to hear his protests. Everyone could relax – until the church was razed to the ground several years later.



As per today, Mr Baskerville’s coffin – or what is left of it – therefore resides in the Warstone Lane Catacombs. Being an atheist, Mr Baskerville did not aspire to life after death, and so we must assume (hope) he is blissfully unaware of the adventures his remains have lived through.

So where does the hound come into all this? Well, apparently Conan Doyle spent quite some time in Birmingham and must have heard about the flamboyant Mr Baskerville. Why he chose to name his fictitious beast after him is unclear, but I guess this rather reflects a liking for the name than any attempt to pin the qualities of a hound on John Baskerville. After all, that would have been very unfair; a man with so much passion for the printed word must have been a decent sort, no matter that he lived in sin, died in sin and gave not one whit what others might think about him.

Next time I catch the tail end of a radio programme, I might decide not to listen. But on the other hand, had I not done so, I would never have come upon the intriguing, energetic Mr John Baskerville. That would have been a loss – at least for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anna Belfrage is the author of two published books, A Rip in the Veil and Like Chaff in the Wind. The third book in The Graham Saga, The Prodigal Son, will be published in the summer of 2013.Set in seventeenth century Scotland and Virginia, the books tell the story of Matthew and Alex, two people who should never have met – not when she was born three hundred years after him.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Boy Sailors During the Age of Nelson and Napoleon

by M.M. Bennetts



Anyone who has thrilled to the dramas of naval derring-do such as Horatio Hornblower or Master and Commander will have observed that on the British ships of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, there were a great many boys--often as young as 12--serving aboard His Majesty's Ships.  

Indeed, it had been a 12 year old boy who had saved the day and the general (in this case, Sir Francis Drake) back in 1578 after a fracas with natives near the Island of Mocha.  So boys, working their way up the ladder, as it were, proved a common feature of the English navy from its beginnings.  And they were called 'Younkers'.

The eighteenth century saw a great rise in charitable institutions which were often founded to enable the poorest of London poor to climb out of the gutter and provide for themselves in a legitimate trade.  In 1756, The Marine Society was just one of these ventures--others included the Foundling Hospital and the Royal Hospital School.  At the first meeting of the founders, held at the King's Arms Tavern in Cornhill, they met to approve "A Plan of the Society for contributing towards a supply of Two or Three thousand Mariners for the Navy."

They began an Entry Book for Boys on 5 August 1756.  In this document, they recorded all the pertinent information they received about the boys, their age (if known), whether they had parents or were fatherless, their place of abode.  They also used the term 'friendless' which was in their eyes a worse condition than being an orphan.

The next meeting of this Society stated their aims:  "John Fielding having procured 24 boys for sea service, they were all clothed by the Society...Order'd that 10 of said boys be sent to Admiral Broderick and 14 to Capt. Barber of the Princess Royal at the Nore and that each boy shall have a Testament, Common Prayer Book, Clasp Knife and a printed list of their Cloths."

In 1756, of course, Britain was on the brink of entering the Seven Years' War.  During that period of time, the Royal Navy's manpower requirements rose swiftly--from 10,000 men to 80,000.  Moreover, there was an endless need for servants aboard ship, for cabin boys, loblolly boys, carpenters' mates...

Indeed, the Society launched a massive newspaper campaign to recruit:  "All stout Lads and Boys who incline to go on board His Majesty's Ships, as servants, with a view to learn the duty of a seaman, and are upon examination, approved by the Marine Society, shall be handsomely clothed and provided with bedding and their charges borne down to the ports where His Majesty's Ships lye, with all proper encouragement."

By 1772, the Regulations of the Marine Society were including a great deal more information about the boys they received.  There were columns in which to note if a boy was 'good' or not so good; some are recorded as having 'little or no guard against temptation', while others are said to be 'abominably corrupted [by the] most wicked company, in the most wicked parts of these kingdoms' or 'hardened in iniquity'.

Still, the Marine Society was offering these boys, described by the magistrate John Fielding as "numberless miserable, deserted, ragged, and iniquitous pilfering Boys that at this Time shamefully infested the Streets of London" a new life, one which included an education of sorts leading to a lifelong trade, steady rations, safe housing and a kitbag which included a felt hat, a kersey pea jacket, two worsted caps, waistcoat, shirts, trousers, three pairs of drawers, and a pair of shoes.  It seemed a good deal for many.

And over time, as the Society grew along with the need for more boys to feed the ever-expanding British naval workforce, magistrates, beadles, parish officers, aldermen and bishops all came to use the Society's provision as one option for criminal youth--a positive choice as opposed to the Gallows--which boys were then referred to, unsurprisingly, as Scape Gallowses.

But what of young teenage officers?  The midshipmen?  For the call of the sea wasn't just heard by those on the streets, but also by the middle-class sons of merchants, doctors, lawyers, yeoman farmers, all up and down the land for whom the navy promised adventure, dashing careers, promotion, and enrichment through limitless prize money.

Many, such as the small 12 year old boy, a son of a Norfolk clergyman, who would become Admiral Lord Nelson in time, would go to sea courtesy of a relation or patron, a serving captain perhaps--someone who had position and influence in the navy and who would take them under their wing, providing them with a classroom at sea where they would learn all the necessary skills and tools to--one hoped--eventually pass their examinations and rise above the post of Mid-Shipman.

For others of the gentry classes, there was the necessity of a good naval education at one of many institutions such as the Portsmouth Naval Academy, founded in 1729, which was open to "the Sons of Noblemen and Gentlemen, who shall not be under thirteen years of age nor above sixteen at the time of their admission."

And it was here, at these Naval Academies, that one can see the breadth of the education required for a young man who hoped to succeed in the navy of Nelson's time.  It was an immensely broad plan of education, requiring no less than two years' study:  "It being intended that the Master of the Academy shall instruct Scholars in writing, arithmetic, drawing, Navigation, Gunnery, Fortification and other noteful parts of Mathematics, and also in the French Language, Dancing, Fencing and the exercise of the Firelock."  

But that wasn't all, for the Academy also required that boys engage in a whole range of technical training which they would need as potential naval officers, including, "The Description and Use of the Terrestrial Globe, Geography, Chronology, Spherics, Astronomy, Latitude, Longitude, Day's Work, and Marine Surveying."

Two of Jane Austen's brothers attended the Portsmouth Academy.  Francis Austen enrolled there in 1786 at the age of eleven, and he was a model student, going to sea two years later.  His brother, Charles, who was sent to the Academy in 1791 was not so assiduous in his studies, and he did not leave the Academy until he had served the full term of his work there, in 1794 when he was sent aboard HMS Daedelus.  Both of Austen's brothers would in due time become admirals.

Interestingly, however, the Portsmouth Academy also had its detractors, many of whom considered it, "a sink of vice and abomination, [which] should be abolished..."  And it finally closed its doors in 1806, although many other such institutions--such as the Naval Academy at Chelsea--carried on, providing unequalled training for a future within the wooden walls.

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M.M. Bennetts is a specialist in early 19th century European history and the Napoleonic wars, and is the author of two novels, May 1812 and Of Honest Fame set during the period.  A third novel, Or Fear of Peace, is due out in 2014.

For further information, please visit the website and historical blog at www.mmbennetts.com 

Monday, May 20, 2013

Richard I: The Troubadour King

by Christy English


Richard the Lionhearted is one of the most famous kings in English history. He is one of my great favorites, if not my favorite altogether. Just to let you know, the musings to follow simply will not be an unbiased post. I find that with Richard, and John, Eleanor and Henry, I see them less the way they were, and more the way I believe them to be, with all attempts at unbiased reflection abandoned.

                                                          Statute of Richard I, Westminster

Richard the Lionhearted, or Richard "Oc et No" ("Yes and No" in the langue d'oc) as he was known during his lifetime. His Grace the King, as he was most often known in the last ten years of his life. Duke of Aquitaine from the age of fifteen. The greatest Western European general of his age, equaled only by the Saladin in the Levant.

Richard was a man who gave his word and kept it, a man of honor in a world without. Though Richard almost always kept his word, others rarely kept their word to him. Betrayed by his father, his brothers, his "brother kings" while on Crusade and after, Richard only found honor in his constant companions and in his enemy, Saladin.

After the Third Crusade, returning overland to his lands in Normandy and Anjou, Richard fell ill in Vienna. He was captured and held captive by his "brother king" Leopold of Austria, who quickly turned Richard over to the Holy Roman Emperor. After three years under guard, Richard was only released after his mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, raised his exorbitant ransom, and after Richard swore an oath of fealty to the Holy Roman Emperor. The idea was that Richard would not make war on his lord, though he had made almost constant war on his father years before.


                                                      Richard and Eleanor's Palace in Poitiers


The root of the dispute between Richard and Henry II was the fact that Henry felt Richard gained his lands in Aquitaine from him, whereas Richard, Eleanor and Louis VII said that those lands came from the French Crown. In that case, Louis VII was his rightful liege lord. Seen in that light,, Richard was making war against his father in order to keep the lands and power that were his by right, as well as fighting the king who kept his mother in prison for 15 years.

Can you tell that as much as I love Henry, I am biased in Richard's favor?

My bias aside, Richard by all accounts was a lovely song writer and singer. Please follow the link below to the famous song he composed while in captivity. This song alone is proof of his skill as a troubadour, and more than earns him the title of the troubadour king.  




It also brings to mind his mother, my favorite woman of all time, Eleanor of Aquitaine. She, like Richard, her favorite son, knew very well the political value of a good song, well sung.

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 Christy English is the author of THE QUEEN'S PAWN and TO BE QUEEN, novels about Eleanor of Aquitaine as well as the Regency romances HOW TO TAME A WILLFUL WIFE and LOVE ON A MIDSUMMER NIGHT. For more about the early Plantagenets and Regency romance fun, please join her on her website Working with the Muse

Giveaway: Nobody's Slave by Tim Vicary

Tim Vicary is giving away a copy of Nobody's Slave. This giveaway ends at midnight on Sunday 26th May. To see some information about the book, please click HERE. Comment here to enter the drawing, and be sure to leave your contact information.

The Last English King

by Martin Lake

If you were to ask someone the name of the last Anglo-Saxon king of England you would probably be told it was King Harold, the man who lost his eye, the Battle of Hastings and his throne.

But if you were to ask someone the question in the autumn of 1066 they would have given a different answer. They would tell you that the last English King was Edgar Ætheling.




Edgar Ætheling.

Since that time, Edgar has been almost forgotten. At best he has become a footnote of history and often referred to in dismissive terms. It is as if his story has been deliberately erased from history. As George Orwell said, ‘History is written by the winners.’

Yet Edgar was proclaimed King of England and was a key figure in the resistance to the Norman Conquest. After his eventual submission to William the Conqueror he continued to shape the events of his day.

When Edward the Confessor died early in 1066 the Witan deemed the times too perilous for a man of Edgar’s youth to take the throne. Two of the greatest warriors in Europe were preparing to invade and Edgar was an untried youth of thirteen or fourteen. The Witan gave the throne instead to the experienced Harold Godwinson. Ten months later, Harold was dead and the Witan needed to choose a new king to replace him. This time they chose Edgar.

There were a number of requirements to become King of the English in the eleventh century. One was to be a member of the ruling dynasty of England, the dynasty which had once ruled the Kingdom of Wessex. The second was to be crowned. The third, and arguably most important, was to be proclaimed King by the Witan, the council of the great men of the kingdom.



There were other people who could have been proclaimed King, Edwin, Earl of Mercia, the most obvious. So why did the Witan ignore him and other experienced leaders and put their faith in a young boy?

Edgar Ætheling was the grand-son of Edmund Ironside and the direct heir of Edward the Confessor. The Witan decided that only a man with the blood of Alfred the Great in his veins could unite the Kingdom against the invader. He was proclaimed King. There was no time for a coronation and soon after the defeat at Hastings Edgar and the English leaders led a second English army to fight the Normans. But his advisers were overawed by the power and destructiveness of the Norman army and advised him to surrender.

Edgar was now firmly in William’s power and that may well have seemed like the end of the story. In fact there are very few details regarding the rest of Edgar’s life. It seems as if the conquerors were determined to erase all memory of him. Some details persist across the centuries, however.

Edgar spent a few years in William’s hands. In 1068 he fled, probably with his family, to the court of Malcolm, King of the Scots. Malcolm fell in love with Edgar’s sister, Margaret. At first sister and brother rebuffed his advances but eventually they gave in to the inevitable. Margaret set out to humanise Malcolm and Edgar set out to win his support invade England. Malcolm agreed and Edgar led a small force over the border to join with an army already being gathered by Earl Gospatric of Northumbria.

The English army defeated the Normans in Durham, inflicting a greater Norman death toll upon them than they had suffered at Hastings. This was too great a risk for William. Buoyed by their success they marched south but William moved more swiftly. William’s generalship proved too much for the poorly equipped English army and Edgar was forced to flee back to Scotland.

Later that year he crossed Hadrian’s Wall a second time and raised another army.


The Danish King, Swein Estrifthson, felt he had a good claim to the throne of England and sent a huge fleet under his brother and sons to contest the Kingdom with the Normans. Edgar and his supporters now faced two potential threats. They solved it by doing something remarkable. They allied themselves to their ancient enemies, the Danes, and prepared to do battle with the Normans. Nobody knows what deal they negotiated. Detractors of Edgar say that he fought on the side of the Danes but this seems to me to be highly unlikely. Some division of the kingdom seems a much more likely scenario.

The joint English and Danish force captured the city of York, the most important city in the north, destroying two castles and slaying all but a handful of the Norman defenders. Then they moved south in order to bring William to battle. But the Danes seemed reluctant to engage and Edgar decided to lead a small force on his own to capture Lincoln. This attempt was over ambitious ended in defeat.

Later that winter Esbjorn, the Danish leader was bought off by the Normans. The joint strategy was in tatters. The English army drifted away and the earls who had fought alongside Edgar submitted to William.

Edgar refused to submit, however, and was pursued across northern England by the Normans, who wreaked mass destruction and near genocide upon the north. Edgar and his men escaped and made their way back to Scotland once again. He had been successful against the Norman armies but not when they were led by William.

Two years later, in 1072, William attacked the Scots in a devastating campaign and Malcolm was forced to sue for peace. The peace treaty required him to expel his young brother-in-law from his kingdom.

Edgar sailed to the court of one of William’s most determined enemies, Count Robert of Flanders. He returned to Scotland two years later but he did not stay with Malcolm for long. Philip, the young King of the Franks was determined to break the power of the Normans and offered Edgar lands close to Normandy so that he could attack William in his own homeland. Edgar was quick to accept the offer and sailed for the south. Fate was against him yet again and his ships were shipwrecked with great loss of life. Edgar and a handful of followers were hunted by the Normans but finally made their way once more to Malcolm’s court.

Edgar had been fighting against the Normans for six years and was still a young man of only twenty one years or so. This time the pressure from Malcolm and his sister persuaded him to offer William his submission.

He was treated with great pomp by William and given lands and a pension of one pound of silver a day. This was an immense amount and made him one of the wealthiest men in the Kingdom. He did not take part in the botched revolt of the Earls the following year. He was wise not to have done so.

We hear little of Edgar during the next ten years. The few Norman accounts describe him as childish and lazy although a good horseman and a fluent talker. An example of his stupidity is illustrated by the fact that he is supposed to have given William his pension in exchange for a horse. The horse must have been exceptionally fine to be worth such a stupendous amount. Presumably it was Pegasus complete with wings and the gift of speech.



Easily worth a pound of silver.


Either that or this story is indicative of the Norman campaign to discredit Edgar in the eyes of Normans, the English and posterity.

In 1085, complaining that he received little honour and respect, he secured William’s agreement to leave England with two hundred followers. He went to Apulia, which was part of the Norman territories in Italy. We do not know what he did there although he may have taken part in the dispute between Roger Borsa and Bohemond for the Dukedom of Apulia and Calabria.

A few years later 5,000 Englishmen left England for Constantinople under the leadership of one of Edgar’s oldest friends. Given later events in Edgar’s life it is plausible that Edgar joined them.

Within a few years, however, he had returned to Normandy where he became one of the principal advisers to William’s successor as Duke of Normandy, Robert Curthose. He appears to have given up any hope of regaining his lost throne. But ahead of him were years of warfare in England, Normandy and Scotland, the making and unmaking of kings and an important role in the First Crusade.

What I found most remarkable is that although Edgar spent much of his life leading the resistance to William the Conqueror and his successors he was never punished in the way that others were. Many were imprisoned for life, a few lost their lives. Not so, Edgar. He seems to have been the great survivor of these dangerous years.

Nobody knows the reason for this. Was it that the Norman kings feared to do him any harm, that they felt guilty because they knew he was the legitimate king of England? Was it that he was just incredibly lucky? Or was it that he was a highly intelligent man who learnt how to survive in a world which had turned upside down?

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Martin Lake has written two novels about Edgar: The Lost King: Resistance and The Lost King: Wasteland. The third: Mercenary, will be published this summer.

The books are available here:
Amazon USA
Amazon UK
WH Smith (UK Kobo)
Nook
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My website
Follow me on Twitter: @martinlake14