Death in the Eighteenth Century

by Mike Rendell

I recently came across the bill submitted to my ancestor Richard Hall by the Funeral Director on the occasion of the death of his first wife Eleanor in 1780. The undertakers (that is to say, the company which undertook the arrangements….) were John Cooper & Co. Here is the bill:
  
I have included it because it gives some idea of what was involved in a funeral in the Georgian Era in the latter part of the 18th Century. Eleanor Hall had died in her 47th year – she got up and had breakfast as normal on 11th January 1780 at her home at One London Bridge, had a splitting headache at midday, and was dead by six in the evening. In all probability she suffered a brain haemorrhage.  It must have been a terrible shock for Richard, who had married Eleanor nearly 27 years earlier, and for their three grown-up children, who all lived at the property.

Richard records her death in his diary “Oh the affliction of this Day. My Dear and Affectionate Wife was suddenly seiz’d with a pain in her head after Twelve at Noon, which issued in a Fit; no Prescription of Physician Avail’d.”

Richard was devastated and made a beautiful cut-out in paper as a memorial. The memento is only just over one inch across and is extraordinarily delicate.

He would have employed the firm of John Cooper & Co to make all the arrangements for the actual funeral, which was to take place at Bunhill Burial Grounds (where many Dissenters were buried). Richard and Eleanor were both Baptists and as an additional incentive to choose Bunhill, it was where both her parents had been buried back in 1754. The expenses even included opening up the family vault and constructing a tent over it so as to keep prying eyes at bay.

The invoice starts by showing the actual funeral as taking place on January 18th, exactly one week after Eleanor’s death.
To start with, the actual coffin and furniture:
An inside Elm Coffin lined and ruffled with fine Crape and a mattress (£1/11/6)
A Superfine Sheet, Shroud and Pillow (£1/15/00)
An outside lead coffin with plate of Inscription (£4/10/00)
An Elm case covered with fine Black Cloth, finish’d in the best Manner with black nails and drape, Lead Plate Cherubim handles, lead plate and wrought Gripes (that is to say, grips) (£5/10/00)
Then there were the extras
4 Men going in with Lead Coffin and Case (10/-)
7 Tickets and Delivering   - 7 shillings (these would have been official invitations to attend the funeral service, sent out to close friends and often in the form of Memento Mori like this one, shown courtesy of the University of Missouri

                                      

Hanging the Shop and Stair-case in Mourning (in other words draping black cloth over the entire ground floor and stairs of One London Bridge, from where the funeral procession started its sad and solemn journey)
Use  of 16 double silver’s sconces and Wax Lights for ditto
2 Porters with Gowns and Staves with Silk cover & hats & gloves
The best Pall.

There then follow a few items which are hard to decipher. What looks like:
A coffin lid of black feathers and man in hatband and gloves
Crape hatbands
Silk ditto
Rich three quarter Armageen  ( a type of material)scarves for a Minister
12 Pairs of Men’s laced kid gloves
2 Pairs of Women’s ditto
6 Pairs of Men’s and Women’s plain and one pair Mitts
Use of 11 Gent Cloaks
A Hearse and 4 coaches with Setts of horses
Velvet Coverings and black feathers for hearse and six
10 Hearse pages with truncheons , 6 of ye bearers
10 Pairs of gloves and favours for ditto
Eight coach pages with Hatbands and gloves
Use of 5 Coachmans cloaks
10 pairs of gloves for ditto and Postillion
Paid at Bunhill for opening the Vault  and for Tent
Fetch and carrying Company
Turnpike and drink for the Men
A total of £51/8/6 which you would need to multiply by perhaps seventy to give a modern-day equivalent i.e £3500 or $5250. On the other hand a farm worker might have had to scrape by on half that amount for a whole year, so it is fair to assume that the funeral was something of a statement: the Hall family have arrived, and we can afford to put on a good show.

It must have made a sombre and imposing sight as the funeral cortege wended its way north of the Hall household on its one mile journey to the graveside. As Richard noted in his diary that night, it had been “a very damp day, some part Foggy, not very Cold” You can almost see the black horses with their black plumes, attended by  page boys dressed from tip to toe in black, the heavy coats of the pall bearers, the coffin lined with black velvet....

Mike published a book entitled Journal of a Georgian Gentleman which is now available in paperback, either direct from him at info@mikerendell.com or on Amazon. It is also available on Kindle and other electronic formats.Mike does a regular blog on all things Georgian here.

Pirates and Smugglers in New Brighton

by Tony Franks-Buckley

Although mostly associated with Cornwall, smuggling was a common occupation in poor seaside communities along all the coasts of Britain. Like many forms of crimes, it came about as the result of legislature, when Edward 1 placed a customs duty of wool exports to Europe, a duty that increased throughout the Hundred Years War, in order to fund the king’s attempts to become King of France. The customs service was primarily concerned with collecting duties, but as time went on, illegal trade increased, particularly in the 17th and 18th centuries when smuggling reached industrial proportions. Wool exports were criminalised in 1614, and made punishable by death in 1661.[1] Smugglers began to arm themselves against the dreaded Revenue men, who were soon provided with 'cutters' to patrol the coasts. (Wirral Smugglers, Wreckers & Pirates - Gavin Chappell)

Wallasey forms the northerly corner of the Wirral and has always been somewhat remote from the remainder of the Wirral. A town without a centre, visitors had difficulty finding their way about; locals prided themselves in being a breed apart. In the 18th and 19th Centuries all of North Wirral was remote and cut off from more densely populated areas.

Wallasey was more isolated than most and it gained a notorious reputation as a haunt of smugglers and pirates. The headquarters of local smuggling was a house that once stood on the river front between Lincoln Drive and Caithness Drive on what is now Egremont Promenade. Built in 1595 by one of the Mainwaring family beside what was at that time Liscard Moor, on the high water mark of the River Mersey, it went through a number of different names including the Half Way House, The Whitehouse and Seabank Nook. Next to it were 3 houses, some of which remain, called Seabank Cottages. The house became a tavern during the American War of Independence, when American and English privateers roamed the ocean and John Paul Jones raided Whitehaven in Cumbria.

The tavern gained the nick name Mother Redcap's after Poll Jones, who always wore a red cap or bonnet. Its normal title was The Half Way House. It was officially this until late into the 19th century.

One of the ports of call of the Smugglers transferring contraband across Bidston Moss was the Ring 'o Bells, now Stone Farm, in Bidston. Owned by a local family, some say the Radley's, others the Pendleton's. In the mid 19th Century Mary Radley or Pendleton married a Simon Croft under which the Ring 'o Bells became as notorious as Mother Redcap's. It also had a well established reputation for Ham 'n Eggs! It is described in The Adventures of Christopher Tadpole! Simon Croft kept his own pigs but became something of a drunkard. A lively and mixed crowd used the establishment including prize fighters Tom Sayers, Jem Mace and 'Tipton Slasher'. Four years after his death, in 1864, Lady Cust (Leasowe Castle) prevailed upon Squire Vyner, the lord of the manor, to revoke the licence. Bidston has been 'dry' ever since. Sept 2010. Note: I have had an email from Victoria Hart who tells me that the pub was indeed a Radley pub. She goes on: I can confirm that it was Mary Radley who married Simon Croft. Radley is my mother’s maiden name and I have been researching my ancestors. Mary and Simon are buried together in St Oswald’s cemetery. Also I know that The Ring 'o Bells Inn was owned by the Radley’s - the first I can trace back to is James Radley (B: 1756) and Peggy Fog (B:1766-D:1837). I am not sure of the dates they were at the inn but Mary Radley was one of their 12 children. I also know that the Inn was originally nicknamed the Ham and Bacon house as the Radley's would cure their own ham and they were carefully preserved from damp.

On occasion revenue men may be found to be waiting near the moss for contraband. In such cases, the contraband was taken along the edge of the Moss and around to Saughall Massie, to a Mill, which stood in what is now Action Lane, Moreton. One such tale relates that a revenue man lay in wait as he had been tipped off that two barrels of rum were to be carried that night across the Moss to the Ring 'o Bells. As the carter approached the Revenue man leapt out of hiding and challenged the carter. You have rum in those kegs!! Nay, its ale - the Ring o' Bells has run out and I'm taking them some. On checking contents, it was indeed ale. The smugglers had got wind of the revenue man and switched the rum barrels for ale!!

Another instance was when Revenue men saw two men removing bales from the area of a wreck. After a pursuit, the bales were found to contain cabbages and ferns. The real stolen bales had vanished by the time the Revenue men returned to the shore. Mother Redcaps finally closed its doors in 1960 after an unsuccessful short lived nightclub venture, and was demolished in October 1974. During demolition the famous 'smuggler's well' was discovered by the workmen, they found lots of bottles, jars and flagons and they wanted to inform the museum authorities! The foreman insisted that the 'hole' be filled in and treasures of lost artefacts found were lost again. He threatened to sack anybody who told the museum! Sadly there are too many of these short sighted idiots around and much has been destroyed here and elsewhere that could have been saved. Maybe the foreman had found something he would rather not be made public? Who knows?

(Information taken from Wirral Smugglers, Wreckers & Pirates, a 2009 publication by Gavin Chappell which is on sale at local bookshops and Amazon) here.

The prayer of the Wirral Wreckers was tragically answered on many occasions. At the foot of the old Wallasey Parish Church tower lie two weather worn and almost forgotten gravestones, concealing a tale of one such shipwreck on the Wirral shore. An apt resting place, looking out, as it does, over Leasowe Castle and the Wirral shore, the waters of Liverpool Bay and the very sandbank where disaster struck. On Christmas Day, 1838, the packet ship "Pennsylvania" set sail from Liverpool bound for New York. She proceeded to the mouth of the Mersey to await the first favourable wind. She was a superior and fast sailing freight carrying vessel, with cabins commodious and elegantly fitted.

On this voyage there were 40 people on board, of which 5 were passengers. On the 12th day of Christmas, a Sunday, she finally put to sea on her fatal voyage. It was 10.30am and there was already a strong wind blowing from the southeast. The ship had a good run as far as Point Lynas, off Anglesey, which she reached by 9pm. Then she was totally becalmed for some 10 minutes, the proverbial lull before the storm.

The wind freshened from the southeast, and soon after midnight the Pennsylvania was in the midst of a hurricane. It was the 13th day of Christmas. The storm continued unabated throughout the Monday. About the Pennsylvania efforts were made to clear the damage, and turn the ship about. When daylight came on Tuesday, Captain Smith, her Commander, tried to put back to Liverpool. On reaching Ormes Head, a course was plotted for the Mersey Lightship. Unknown to the Pennsylvania, however, the floating light had parted from its mooring the previous day. Normally it was anchored off the East Hoyle Bank to help guide mariners safely into the Horse and Rock Channels.

The newspapers of the time were suspicious:

"To say the violence of the gale drove her from her moorings is absurd. The floating light ......... makes its appearance ......... so regularly in the Mersey with every onslaught of the elements ...... (That one might suspect) those who tended it felt so deeply for their own personal safety in times of danger that they quit their post. Again, during the past gale when most needed to guide vessels in distress, has this vessel parted her moorings. It is scarcely two months since she parted her moorings before a gale and came into port. To us this is very extraordinary and inexplicable."

The Pennsylvania still bewildered by the absence of the Lightship, dropped anchor off Hoylake, about three miles from the shore. It was now 1.30pm on Tuesday. Before another anchor could be dropped however, the vessel swung around, drifted, and struck the Hoyle Bank. The force of the gale rammed her into the bank 8 or 9 times, and she started to take on water rapidly. Strangely, two other packet ships, the St Andrew and the Lockwoods also struck the Bank, not more than half a mile apart. One cannot help but recall the words of James Stonehouse, writing in 1863:

"Many a fierce fire has been lighted on the Wirral shore on stormy nights to lure the good ship onto the Burbo or Hoyle Banks, there to beat and strain and throb, until her timbers parted ......."

In an attempt to reach the shore, the Pennsylvania's jolly boat was launched into the gale. Aboard it were 5 passengers, including one William Douglas, as well as the Chief Mate, Lucas B Blydenburgh, and several of the crew. Those worn gravestones in a Wallasey churchyard tell only too well the fate of that little boat. Only one of its occupants survived. Meanwhile back on the wreck of the Pennsylvania, the long boat, the only other prospect of escape, was lost in heavy waves, which also swept the Captain overboard. It was 3pm Tuesday.

Much of the hull was now underwater. The remaining crew climbed desperately into the rigging where they were to cling for dear life for 19 hours. It was not until 10 am the next day that the steam tug Victoria took them off, except that is, three of the crew who had literally been starved to death of cold and hunger in the rigging during the night. 21 were saved from the wreck, 19 drowned. From the wreckers of the Wirral shore, the storm had come as a belated Christmas present. Liverpool newspapers commented:

"We lament finding that these infamous wretches, the wreckers, have been at their fiendlike occupation, plundering what the elements have spared, instead of seeking to alleviate the calamities of their fellow creatures. The wreckers who infest the Cheshire coast were not long in rendering the catastrophe a source of emolument to themselves. The property of the passengers and crew where plundered by them to an alarming extent. The Steward, who had in his trunk, sixty watches and other articles of jewellery, found on regaining the vessel that the whole of it had disappeared". Some reports placed the value of the cargoes carried by the Pennsylvania and St Andrew as high as £400,000, so it is hardly surprising that the wreckers chose the Pennsylvania as their "especial prey". The Pennsylvania had suffered most, her state cabin has almost entirely been stripped.

A number of plunderers were, however, taken into custody. One in particular, a John Bibby, boatman, is worthy of our interest. When apprehended he was found to have forty yards of new cloth, valued at £12, folded round his body. In his fishing boat were found books, a large and handsome cruet stand, and a black coat, a pair of trousers, a pair of drawers and much else.

It transpired that the coat had belonged to the late Captain Smith and the cruet stand to the same ship. The trousers belonged to Mr Thompson, its sole surviving passenger. The owner of the drawers was never ascertained. Bibby claimed in court that the cloth had been given him by a man on the Pier Head. Nor had he any idea how the other articles had found their way into his boat. He was fined £27. In default of payment he was to be jailed for 6 months. He might have considered himself lucky, for it was an age when a not unknown penalty for wrecking was public whipping or even transportation. William Douglas, one of the 5 passengers, who along with the First and Second Mates, tried to escape from the wreck. However, the ill fated boat did not live long in the tempest. About midway between the vessel and shore, she swamped, and all on board was thrown into the sea. He succeeded in reaching the shore, he was immediately taken to Leasowe Castle but he only survived a short time. The Captain and First and Second Mates were also drowned. It was thus reported,

"His mortal remains (Lucas Blydenburgh) were attended to the grave by all American Captains in port, as well as by hundreds of seamen. The sight was most mournful “The Inscription reads:"Sacred to the memory of Lucas B Blydenburgh of New York, Mate of the Packet Ship Pennsylvania, who was drowned near Leasowe Castle after leaving the wreck during the Memorable Gale on January the 8th 1839. Aged 40 years"

Max Moeller Director of Research Services The Historical Society of Pennsylvania 1300 Locust St. Philadelphia, PA 19107 has replied to a question from me asking about ships images, he states that: I have found two images reproduced in published sources (both of which should still be available in bookstores) of the U.S. Ship Pennsylvania . Neither of the originals are owned by HSP. They are:[2] “Launch of the U.S. Ship Pennsylvania”, a wood engraving by R.S. Gilbert, July 1837 – private collection (reproduction found on page 271 of Russell Weigley’s Philadelphia: A 300 Year History, 1982); and “View of the Launch of the U.S. Ship of War Pennsylvania”, lithograph by Lehman & Duval after G. Lehman, 1837 – Library of Congress (reproduction in Edwin Wolfe’s Philadelphia: Portrait of an American City, 1990).

The following extract is taken from the book "Portrait of Wirral" by "Kenneth Burnley”.

One hundred and fifty years ago this stretch of coast was renowned for its wreckers; robbers and smugglers who would lure the Liverpool-bound vessels on to the sandbanks using decoy lights and flares. Once ashore, the wreckers showed no mercy towards the unfortunate crew and passengers; if their lives were spared, their cargoes and belongings were not. But not all wrecking was deliberate; winter storms claimed many ships, and local people were quick to arrive on the scene to salvage what they could. Henry Aspinall, of Birkenhead, wrote this vivid description of a severe storm in 1839: On 6th January 1839, the day was fine; a fair wind blew for outward-bound ships. Many left the Mersey under sail, among them the St Andrew, the Lockwoods, and the Pennsylvania, first class packet ships, loaded with valuable cargoes and emigrants together with a few saloon passengers for New York. On the morning of the 7th, the barometer fell to a very low point. The vessels had almost reached Holyhead, when suddenly the wind changed to the north-west and blew a hurricane. The three vessels at once put back for the Mersey, the only shelter in such a gale. Unfortunately the wind veered dead north-west, and took the three vessels on to the Burbo and West Hoyle Banks. The sea rose to a fearful height, and the vessels settled in the sand until they were literally smashed to pieces. No boats could live. The moment they reached the water they were swamped and all on board were washed away. Many were drowned and washed ashore at Leasowe, Hoylake, and the neighbouring coast. Such a sight I never saw before or since, nor should I like to. The scene deeply impressed. The beach was covered with wreckage and dead bodies. I vividly recall the latter. It was, indeed, a most pitiful sight. To this day, in old Hoylake cottages, may be seen cupboards, doors, satinwood fittings, and glass and ebony door handles, washed up and appropriated by the finders, sad relics of a catastrophe which caused a great sensation in the district.

To learn more about the History of Pirates & Smugglers in New Brighton you can purchase the book from Amazon here

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The Treasure of Treasures is now available to purchase here:

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[1] Wirral Smugglers, Wreckers & Pirates - Gavin Chappell
[2] Philadelphia: A 300 Year History, 1982, Russell Weigley

Exeter Bread Riots 1854

by Jenna Dawlish

In 2011 there was rioting in London. It was a year before the Olympics was due to be held and the world watched as people from all classes rioted and looted. There was much discussion as to why it happened (the shooting dead of a young man by the police was the principle initiating reason).

However, it soon became clear that there was an underlying reason for the rioting, and that there were other soci-economic reasons. Young people were fed up of lack of prospects and money and this spilled onto streets.

Rewind about 150 years previously, to a small Devon town called Exeter. It's 1854 and the lower classes - known as the "underclass" are tired and fed up of the price of food going higher and higher. They end up rioting in much the same way as the Londoners.

I have transcribed the following from the newspaper the Exeter Flying Post. It describes the riots and the authorities' reaction to it. There was much discussion in 2011 about whether or not to bring the army onto the streets to deal with the riots. In 1854 they didn't hesitate!

The journalistic writing is very different to now - they give a full description that would be unheard of today, but it gives us a great insight into what happened. I hope you find it interesting.

Jan 12^th 1854 Exeter Flying Post

Riot at Exeter

A serious disturbance took place in this city on Monday. At about three o'clock in the afternoon a number of persons, consisting principally of women and children, but also comprising a great many men of that degraded class who have the credit, perhaps deservedly, or always being “up for a breach of the peace” when occasion serves, assembled in the West Quarter. They proceeded to the Lower Market, and from thence up <something> street and across South Street to the Cathedral Yard, the number increasing as they passed. There they commenced the work of destruction, the shop of Mr Barrett, baker, the windows of which were smashed, forming the first object of their attack.

Proceeding across the yard they passed up Catherine street, but here they did no damage. The shopkeepers, hearing of the disturbance which had commenced, put up their shutters. The police were also promptly on the spot and from fear of the civil force, whose efforts to keep the peace were most indefatigable, or some other cause, the mob saw fit to change their course, and direct their attention to other parts of the city. They accordingly passed back into South street, and soon after their appearance the shops were closed from end to end. At Mr Norton's the confectioner, a considerable quantity of glass was broken. The shutters had been put up with the expectation of those on the door, the glass in which was completely smashed. Several panes were also broken at Mrs Reed's.

Passing a long the Friars, and by Colleton Crescent they broke a window in Mr J C Sercombe's residence, form whence they went to the Quay, where the windows of Mr Sercombe's stores also suffered. The mob next passed on towards Holloway street. In Melbourne street a hucksters shop was plundered of its bacon , and permitted a freer access of light by the breaking of its windows. The shopkeeper, who is a cripple, could do nothing to prevent the depredation, and his wife, however much help meet, could not afford help enough for so extraordinary an emergency. The shop of Mr Bodley, baker at the bottom of Holloway street was completely devastated. The shutters were pulled down,and this having been accomplished, the mob commences throwing stones, and did not cease till the window had been altogether destroyed. A looking-glass and a watch were also broken by the stones, but nothing, we believe was taken. Passing up Holloway street the mob returned to the West Quarter, where the shop of Mr Barrett, was treated with similar severity. There were then between 200 and 300 persons assembled. The shutters here were also pulled down and broken, and the windows demolished, 41 panes of glass being destroyed. The shop of Mr Clapp, the the West Quarter, also received a visit ad 67 panes of glass were knocked to pieces.

The crowd thence passed on to the Bridge, and bent their fury on the shop of Mr Dann, the baker, of Bridge Street. Here the demolition was complete. The shutters, as in other instances, had been put up as a means of greater security; but they formed but a little obstacle. They were soon removed, the glass destroyed, and the sash broken in. A quantity of bread was also stolen, a great proportion of of the remainder thrown down and trodden on. Happily, Mr Dann's so had the presence of mind to carry off the money drawer, containing upwards of £40, which would no doubt have been rifled had it been left in the shop. While, however, he was doing this, he was exposed to a great danger, for large stones were constantly being thrown at him. The windows of the upstair rooms also sustained great damage. One or two looking glasses were broken, and a considerable quantity of furniture was much injured. 

The parties then proceeded into St Thomas.

There would no doubt have been a much greater destruction of property in the city, had it not been that the Mayor, with the most commendable promptitude, requested the service of the military, in consequence of which a detachment of the Third Light Dragoons was despatched at once from the Barracks to the scene of the disturbance. Unfortunately there was not at the moment a county a magistrate at hand, and they were therefore unable to pass the city bounds and quell the rioters there. A messenger was despatched for Mr Commissioner Bere who hastened to the spot; but in the mean time a great deal of damage was done. Mr Bickford, baker, has 30 panes of glass destroyed, and there were also a few things taken, but not of value; but the scene of the greatest destruction was the shop of Mr Dimond, baker, of Cowick street, which was attacked, by the mob with the greatest possible furor and amidst mingled shouting and yelling. The rioters were here engaged nearly half an hour. The shop door was shattered, and the window shutters having been pulled down, every pane of glass was smashed. A clock was broken, and also a large and expensive mirror. The stones passed through a window between the shop and an inner room; the sash of which was completely destroyed. The bread was also stolen; two or three boys got inside and threw it out to those who were in the street; a quantity of butter was taken, and those who felt so disposed helped themselves to preserves. Within, Mr Dimonds, and his family having been taking tea, the tea things were on the table; a woman came in, took took them up and threw them on the ground, breaking them to atoms. A looking glass was also taken from the mantle piece and dashed to pieces, Large stones were thrown through the windows of the upstairs rooms, and the furniture was greatly damaged. At the house of Mr Kay, in the same street, there was some damage done, and at Mr Norris's there were 42 panes of glass broken and the articles in the shop which were but little, the parties being poor, were taken. At Mr Will's the door having been opened, several of the party entered, and carried off bread; but not content with this, they hurled stones at the windows of the upstairs rooms on coming out.

On the arrival of Mr Bere, the Military having been requested to pass into St Thomas's the greater part of the crowd soon dispersed and dividing into various sections passed on by different roads.

The great went to Ide and Alphington, and thence to Mr Trood's. At Ide they did some mischief. At Alphington, which they reached about six o'clock, they attacked the shop of Mrs Tripe, baker. Notice having been received of their approach, the money and bread had been removed but the glass was demolished, and everything they could get was taken. They then went to Mr Wright's where the shutters were broken open and a quantity of bread was stolen. Some proposed to pass onto Mr Jones's huckster's-shop but others cried “no” and the counsels of the latter prevailing Mr Jones was permitted to keep his own in peace. A number of the most boisterous cried out “Let's go to old Troods; he shall suffer tonight,” and accordingly in that direction the party moved. On the way a few passed inside the gate of Mr Pitt, farmer of Matford; but the premises of Mr Trood appeared to possess a greater attraction for the mob; and at the suggestion of the one or two of the party Mr Pitt was left alone. Others appeared disposed to pay a passing call on Mrs Mallett, miller of Matford; but the idea of Mr Trood's premsises in the distance also served as a safeguard to Mrs Mallett. One or two called “on to Trood's” and the premises of the worthy miller were forsaken. Arrived at Exminster, the fury of the party knew no bounds. The gates of the yard were shut, but they burst them open and at once commenced their old work of glass smashing. They then effected an entrance into the house and ransacked all of the downstairs rooms. In the kitchen they broke the clock and demolished the earthenware. They also stole some silver spoons and seized on what meat they could lay hold of. Some proceeded to the cider cellar, where they partook to their hearts content, and let off a quantity – we heard two pipes – besides. Meantime Mr Bere, having having passed on with the soldiery to Alphington , ascertained the damage that had been there some and that the party had gone to Mr Troods. He accordingly passed on in an haste accompanied by the soldiery. The house was at once surrounded, but nevertheless some effected their escape, passing under the bellies of the horses and the soldiers had to use the flat end of their sword to prevent. Sixteen were taken to Exeter by soldiers and a search having been made after their departure nine more were found secreted and also taken to the county gaol. We regret to state that Mr Trood was to some extent injured but it is hoped that he will be sufficiently well to give evidence this (Wednesday) morning at the castle.

In the city the most active look out was kept by the police in various parts.; and by the end of a detachment of the military force who were headed by the Mayor, the lower part of the city was cleared. The soldiers were then drawn up in form of the Guildhall, and at about seven o'clock, perfect tranquillity having been restored, a portion of them were dismissed to the barracks. A picket only was kept, under the command of two non-commissioned officers; and they were relieved from time to time till morning when it was thought that their services were no longer necessary.

The energetic conduct of the authorities of the city and especially of the Mayor is deserving of all praise. There can be no doubt that it has saved the city form great destruction of property and perhaps from much injury to persons. The prompt exertions of Mr Bere are equally commendable; and the citizens are also deeply indebted to the excellent Superintendent of Police (Mr Steel) for his judicious arrangement of the force, and to the members of that body for their ready and untiring exertions for the restoration of peace.

About 9 o'clock on Monday night, an order was received by Mr Wolland, at the steam saw and turning mills, for 300 staves for the use of the special constables, and these were supplied before daylight the next morning.

The following notices from the Mayor were circulated through the city early on Tuesday morning -

“Exeter – The Mayor requests respectable Inhabitants forthwith to attend at the Guildhall, to assist in preserving the peace of the City. John Daw, Mayor

Exeter Jan 9^th 1854

Bread Riots – Some Riots having already taken place in this City in consequence of the high price of Bread, the Mayor and Magistrates of Exeter give notice, that they shall use the most vigorous measures to preserve the public peace, and to punish all who shall commit any breach of the same;and they call upon all the Inhabitants of Exeter and the neighbourhood, and particularly on all Masters and Heads of families, to afford their active and best assistance in maintaining in the public tranquillity and putting down all tendency to riot and disorder.

Guildhall, Exeter Jan 9^th 1854. JOHN DAW, Mayor.”

-----

Jenna Dawlish is the author of two Victorian novels partly based in Devon.

www.jennadawlish.com

The Archbishop Who Defied Two Kings: Anselm of Canterbury

By Rosanne E. Lortz


We have all heard the story of Thomas Becket, the archbishop who refused to surrender to the will of King Henry II and ended up lying murdered on the floor of the church at Canterbury. What many people do not know, however, is that Thomas Becket was not the first Archbishop of Canterbury to defy a king in order to protect the power of the Church against the encroachments of the monarchy. He was simply following in the grand tradition of his illustrious predecessor, Anselm of Canterbury.

When William the Conqueror died in 1087, his son William Rufus inherited the throne of England. The office of Archbishop of Canterbury fell vacant. For four years, the king refused to allow the office to be filled, declaring that he would be his own archbishop. The flock of England was thus left with no shepherd to tend her while a wolf wore the crown.

Eventually, King William Rufus was prevailed upon to fill the office in Canterbury. He selected Anselm of Bec for this privilege, an aging abbot famous for his ontological proof of the existence of God. William knew that he had chosen one of the most scholarly men of the age, but he was perhaps unaware that he had also chosen one of the most tenacious.

Anselm was no sooner selected to fill the see of Canterbury than he denied the king’s right to make that selection. William Rufus, so Anselm said, had no right or power to appoint clergy. The dispute over lay investiture that was surfacing in courts and cathedrals all across Europe had come at last to England. This issue would dominate the struggle between Anselm and William Rufus and prove a proper prelude to the clash between Thomas Becket and Henry II.

William Rufus believed that it was his God-given prerogative to fill any vacant church office in his realm. In his mind, bishops, as well as barons, were his vassals. When an eleventh-century bishop received his see, he also received a large portion of English land and thus acquired feudal obligations to the English king. Like William Rufus’s more secular vassals, the bishops owed him fealty and knight service. Therefore, the king wanted to have a say on who his servants would be.

Anselm contended that a bishop, by the very nature of his office, could not be a vassal to the king without compromising his position as vassal to Christ. The material possessions that went along with the office changed nothing. Scripture prescribed that the Church should choose her ministers, and no prescription of William Rufus could annul this mandate from God.

In this stance Anselm was supported by the Church throughout Europe. Twenty-five years earlier, Gregory VII, the Bishop of Rome, had stated the Church’s official position on this issue: “We decree that no one of the clergy shall receive the investiture of a bishopric or abbey or church from the hand of an emperor or king or of any lay person, male or female.” Any clergyman or lay lord who presumed to violate this mandate was subject to excommunication for his presumption.

When soon-to-be-Emperor Henry IV ignored the Church’s decision and appointed a bishop for Milan, Gregory VII censured him for this action. The Emperor responded by declaring Gregory a false pope. With lighter measures having failed, Gregory threatened the German Emperor with excommunication. This was no idle threat. Excommunication could result in a de facto deposition since God-fearing subjects would be reticent to serve an apostate emperor. Henry IV would not be warned. Haughtily, he announced these words to the representative of the Church: “I am to be judged by God alone and am not to be deposed for any crime unless—may it never happen—I should deviate from the faith.” Gregory met scorn with scorn. He excommunicated the Emperor from the pale of the Church and absolved all of his subjects from their allegiance to him.

With his country in revolt, the Emperor was forced to back down and abase himself before the pope. In that famous scene outside the castle of Canossa in northern Italy, the Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV prostrated himself before Gregory and besought forgiveness for his rash actions. When forgiveness had been received and his country once again set in order, the Emperor showed his gratitude to Gregory by sending an army against Rome. He forcibly removed Gregory his seat in St. Peter’s and installed a new pope. Gregory died a few months later, weary in soul and sad in heart. Thus had the controversy over lay investiture begun in Germany and Italy.

In England, Anselm was more fortunate than Gregory had been. His resistance to William Rufus’s policies led to a voluntary exile, but through it all he managed to keep his position as archbishop and continue his theological writings. He developed a theory of Christ’s substitutionary atonement to be published in the book Cur Deus Homo (Why God Became Man).

When Henry I (the grandfather of Thomas Becket’s Henry) succeeded his brother William Rufus to the throne, he invited Anselm back to England, needing the archbishop’s support against his older brother Robert Curthose. But if Henry I had known what was best for his interests, the invitation would never have been issued. Robert Bartlett writes:

During his exile Anselm absorbed the more radical demands of the reformers, including their objection to the practice of ecclesiastics doing homage to lay people, even kings. Hence it was that when Rufus’s successor, Henry I, invited the archbishop to return to England in 1100, there was, instead of the anticipated settlement and reconciliation, a dispute in which much deeper issues of principle were raised.

Anselm no longer simply objected to the king appointing bishops; he also objected to the king receiving homage from any member of the Church.

After several years of harsh conflict and a second exile for Anselm, a compromise was finally reached. The king was not allowed to choose ecclesiastics or invest them with their spiritual authority. He could, however, receive homage from them for the lands that were attached to their benefice. Neither archbishop nor king was entirely pleased with the arrangement. It was a makeshift settlement that would last only half a century.

Anselm had peace for two years after his settlement with Henry I, tending to his duties as archbishop and continuing the written outpourings of one of the best minds in Europe. He died in 1109, and interestingly enough, it was Archbishop Thomas Becket who, fifty-four years later, requested that Anselm be canonized as a saint. Perhaps he knew how much he owed to the man who had come before him.

Anselm, in many ways, showed just as much courage and stubbornness as Thomas Becket would, defying the sons of William the Conqueror and standing up for the rights of the Church against two kings of England. But because his last breath was not spilled out in blood on the flagstones of Canterbury, his stand is less memorable. History loves a martyr. A seventy-six year old bishop who died in his bed is a little more prosaic.
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Rosanne E. Lortz is the author of two books: I Serve: A Novel of the Black Prince, a historical adventure/romance set during the Hundred Years' War, and Road from the West: Book I of the Chronicles of Tancred, the beginning of a trilogy which takes place during the First Crusade.

You can learn more about Rosanne's books at her Official Author Website where she also blogs about writing, mothering, and things historical.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY


Bartlett, Robert. England under the Norman and Angevin Kings 1075-1225. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000.

Poet's Corner

Karen V. Wasylowski

"The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living"

Epitaph on the memorial to T.S.Eliot.

The South Transept of Westninster Abbey is a special place when it comes to British culture.   It is here the mortal remains (or at least a memorial) of some of the greatest poets, playwrights and writers in English literature have been laid to rest, beginning with Geoffrey Chaucer in 1556.  Over the centuries the tradition has grown, and only a chosen few have been considered worthy of this honor.

You can see how brilliant this man is...

Chaucer actually owed his Westminster burial more to his position, Clerk of Works of the Palace of Westminster, than to his writing, but in 1556 he was moved the South Transept, along with Edmund Spencer, British Poet and writer of 'The Faerie Queen', and the popular corner began to take off.  Lord Byron is commemorated there, William Shakespeare as well (although his actual burial place is Stratford-upon-Avon)

Samuel Horsley, Dean of Westminster in 1796, was said to have tartly refused the request for actress Kitty Clive to be buried in the Abbey:

"...if we do not draw some line in this theatrical ambition to mortuary fame, we shall soon make Westminster Abbey little better than a Gothic Green Room!"

The memorials take several forms, either a stone slab on the floor or more elaborate carved monuments. The Bronte sisters are commemorated together, on one slab, which was not unveiled until 1947, the four founders of the Royal Ballet were commemorated in 2009.  

The inscription over the grave of Ben Jonson is misspelled, ("O Rare Ben Johnson" )

Robert Browning's grave is adjacent to Alfred Tennyson, (Elizabeth is buried in Florence), Charles Dickens' is at home there too, as well as, Thomas Hardy, Handel, Henry Irving, Dr. Samuel Johnson, Rudyard Kipling, Richard Brinsley Sheridan.

Memorials include our wonderful Jane Austen, Keats, W. H. Auden, Elizabeth Browning, Robert Burns, Lewis Carroll, the Eliots, T. S. and George, Jenny Lind, Longfellow, Shelley, Thackeray, Dylan Thomas, Oscar Wilde, C. S. Lewis, D.H. Lawrence, and on and on...

As floor and wall space began to run out, the decision was taken to install a stained glass memorial window (unveiled in 1994 in memory of Edward Horton Hubbard), and it is here that new names are added in the form of inscribed panes of glass. There is room for 20 names, and currently there are six names on this window, with a new entry (Elizabeth Gaskell) unveiled on 25 September 2010.

There are even some of those nasty actors laying around in there.  David Garrick, an actor, playwright and produce, died in 1779.  His acting style was less bombastic than his predecessors, more natural.

Dame Sybil Thorndike, who has the distinction of having a play, Saint Joan, written specifically for her by George Bernard Shaw, and...

Laurence Kerr Olivier, Baron Olivier. Olivier is buried alongside some of the people he portrayed in theatre and film, including King Henry V, General John Burgoyne, Air Chief Marshal Hugh Dowding and William III of England and II of Scotland.

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Karen V. Wasylowski is the author of two books.  Her first born, "Darcy and Fitzwilliam," is a sequel to Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice".  Her second book, "Sons and Daughters" is a sequel to "Darcy and Fitzwilliam"  Both books can be purchased here on Amazon.com.  

Loving Miss Darcy by Nancy Kelley

Nancy is giving away two copies of her new release, Loving Miss Darcy. One print copy will go to someone in the US or Canada and one ebook to someone internationally.

You can read more about the book HERE. You will be prompted to return to this post to comment. Please be sure to leave your contact information and country.

A Shilling A Day

By Jonathan Hopkins

In the 18th and 19th centuries Britain’s standing army was made up entirely of ‘volunteers’. They weren’t forced into joining the military or obliged to serve by statute as in many European countries. While officers mostly purchased their commissions from the Crown, the rank and file were recruited from local militia groups, Yeomanry and fencibles, from amongst prisoners, and from within the general population.

Joining the army of the time was not seen as the good career move it often is today. In peacetime soldiery was considered by the public as a rabble - gangs of uncouth, unprofessional troublemakers, regularly used by government to police instances of public disorder with unnecessary violence. Women who married soldiers were pitied as fools, not surprising since those whose husbands were sent to serve abroad would be often left destitute unless they had another source of income.

It is difficult to see what, bar a sense of adventure, encouraged young men to enlist. Perhaps they believed, after the hardships of farm or factory, the army could not be worse.

And there was the bounty, of course: that purse beloved of recruiting sergeants; the ‘forty shillings on the drum’ of the song. That actually refers to ‘attestation’money, the amount a recruit received on first signing up, which amounted to two pounds two shillings (forty-two shillings, or two guineas).

Bounty paid to an infantry recruit - £16 16s 0d

Bounty paid to a cavalry recruit - £13 8s 0d

This was probably more money than most men had ever seen in their lives! But, of course, it was a pike to catch a minnow: in reality a fresh recruit rarely saw any of it. What wasn’t drunk away in the short-lived euphoria of a new life was retained by the army to pay for the soldier’s board and lodging until he was fully signed up and approved, which also meant paying for a doctor to examine him to confirm he was ‘fit to serve’, and for a magistrate to co-sign his papers.

And his necessaries: those items of kit Army Regulations deemed the man should supply himself. Things the Commander-in-Chief at Horseguards, and thus the government, refused to provide from the public purse. Initial cost of these worked out at £2 14s 0d for an infantryman and a whopping £3 15s 0d for a new dragoon - he had to buy equipment for his horse, too!

Necessaries
Infantryman - shirt (4), shoes (2 pairs), stockings (2 pairs), gaiters/leggings, stock and clasp, pack, greatcoat strap set, brushes and blackball, combs (2), sundries.


Cavalryman - Breeches and slings (braces), stable jacket, stable trousers, forage cap, shirt (3), shoes (2 pairs), night cap, stockings (3 pairs), gaiters, stock and clasp, shoe clasp, shoe brush (3), comb (2), razor and soap, clothes brush. PLUS nose bag, watering bridle and log, worm & picker, mane comb, sponge, hoof pick, scissors, emery oil, pipeclay, blacking, powder bag and powder, carbine-lock case, saddlebag/valise.

Army pay was certainly not particular attractive in itself. Private infantrymen received 1 shilling (£0 1s 0d) a day, which doesn’t sound too bad until you consider a skilled loom operator could earn three times that for a week’s work. Though to be fair, a farm labourer probably earned less than £10 a year. A light dragoon earned (gasp!) 1s 3d (one-and-thruppence) a day, one reason the cavalry had less trouble attracting recruits than regiments of foot.

Problem was that the soldier suffered deductions from this amount to pay for food, accommodation and any items of equipment which needed replacing before their due date. Everything had a standard lifetime in the army, except the men. And because a dragoon’s necessaries covered his horse’s essentials as well as his own, his deductions were proportionally higher. So cavalrymen were probably worse off in the long run.

Example of Equipment Lifetimes

Hat                             1 year

Gloves                        1 year

Coat                            2 years

Boots (Infantry)         2 years

Boots (Cavalry)         6 years

Bridle                       12 years

Saddle                      16 years

Ammunition pouch  20 years

In fact a dragoon might be much worse off. Stationed in some foreign country, if your horse galloped off, together with all the equipment strapped to it, unless you could persuade your commanding officer the animal was lost ‘through the actions of the enemy’ you might be forced to cover its cost. With a replacement animal alone costing £35 (two years pay, before deductions) woe betide the man who was bucked off if he could not catch his mount.
There was one bright spot in all this financial gloom, though – inflation was non-existent. The cost of horses, for example, remained the same from Wellington’s day until the beginning of the First World War. In an 1810 despatch (The Dispatches of Field Marshal the Duke of Wellington by Gurwood Vol 6 p 578) he suggests the army pay 35 guineas for horses 'suitable for immediate service' either purchased in Britain or imported from the US, and in 1914 the army were still paying £30-£40 for cavalry mounts and light draught horses.


So it may come as little surprise that in 1914 an infantry private was still being paid - a shilling a day.

Though the army did supply his boots!

　

　
Figures quoted in this article come from ‘The British Army Against Napoleon’ by Robert Burnham and Ron McGuigan, originally sourced from Thomas Reide’s ‘A Treatise on Military Finance’ (1805)

Bon Aperitif!

by Anne Clinard Barnhill

     I first became interested in cordial-making while doing research for my second historical novel, Against the Queen’s Command (working title), which will, hopefully, come out from St. Martin’s Press later this year or early 2014.  I wanted my main character, Mary Shelton, to have a hobby that went beyond the stereotypical needlework most women did.  So, I explored the idea of the cordial.

     Just what is a cordial?  The dictionary definition is that a cordial is a liqueur, a flavored, syrupy alcoholic drink.  Often, we think of cordials being served with dessert, or mixed with other alcoholic beverages to create tasty concoctions.  But, when cordials first appeared in the Late Middle Ages, they were considered more of a medicine; indeed, one of the definitions of the word ‘cordial’ means invigorating the heart.  One of the first cordial-makers was Arnold de Vila Nova, an alchemist in Spain and then later, France.  He was born in 1240 and wrote The Boke of Wine.  He was very enthusiastic about the restorative powers of his concoctions. For the next hundred years or so, cordial making was the domain of alchemists.  Eventually, monasteries learned the art and were distilling ‘elixir de longue vie,’ elixir of long life.

     By the Renaissance, cordials had travelled from Italy to the French court.  Catherine de Medici introduced them when she came to France from Tuscany, and drinking a cordial became accepted practice for French nobility.  From there, they continued to spread west.

     Most of the early recipes that appear in old books will not be found in the cooking sections.  Instead, cordial making will be found in sections with recipes for soaps, ointments, poultices and “wound waters.”  In Nicolas Culpeper’s book, Complete Herbal (1653), he warns of using cordials inappropriately.  He tells the reader that those with hot constitutions should not drink cordials because they will “fill the brain with foolish and fearful imaginations.”  He also cautions young people to avoid the use of cordials.  Evidently, their blood is “hot enough without them.”

     Sugar is a major component of making cordials.  Many of the earliest recipes do not mention adding sugar; however, there are several that suggest the maker “draws out the spirit and sweeten it with sugar.” (1653)  Others give more specific directions.  “…to every pinte of water, you must put 2 ounces of white sugar candie…” (1550-1625?)  “sugar a pound.” (1596) and so forth.  It is easy to see that, while the makers were very much aware of the supposed health qualities of the cordials, they also considered the taste.

     Early cordial makers would have had two bases in which to make their brew.  In one method, they would add flavorings to wine (spices, herbs, fruits) and then distill the liquid.  In the second, flavorings would be added to ‘aqua vita” (brandy or other strong liquor) and this may or may not be distilled again. Using fruits, herbs and spices, plus a lot of sugar, cordial-makers could serve their fellows by providing a healthy and tasty drink. 

     Bon aperitif!

Sources: www.thedrinkshop.com

               www.dragonbear.com/cordials.html

 Anne Clinard Barnhill's debut novel, At The Mercy of the Queen is available online and at your local bookstore.  She is also author of At Home in the Land of Oz: Autism, My Sister and Me (memoir), What You Long For (short story collection) and Coal, Baby (poetry chapbook).  She is currently working on another historical novel set in West Virginia in the 1960's.  You can visit her at www.anneclinardbarnhill.com or on facebook, Anne Clinard Barnhill-Writer.

The “English Sound” in the Late Medieval Catholic Church

by Anne E. Johnson


One of Charlemagne’s many influences on European culture dealt with how liturgical chant was used by the Catholic Church. Before the ninth century and the formation of the Holy Roman Empire, each region of Europe had its own tradition of singing for Catholic worship. When he came to power, Charlemagne realized that standardizing the rituals of the Church would help his Empire stabilize its many component peoples. He looked to the monasteries of England, where some of the world's best scholars dwelled, and hired a monk named Alcuin to devise a collection of chants to become the official music of Catholics everywhere and replace the regional styles.

To create these universal chants, Alcuin needed to pick one of the regional types of chant to use as a starting point. Interestingly, he did not choose the very distinctive Sarum rite popular in England. Instead, he chose Charlemagne's favorite, a style of chant now known as Old Roman, which was widely used in Charlemagne’s native Frankish lands (i.e., Germany).

In order to convince Catholics that altering their worship at Charlemagne's command was a mandate from God, Alcuin’s people started a very persuasive rumour: It was claimed that, over 200 years before, God had sent a dove to Pope Gregory I to sing God’s chosen chants into the Pope’s ear. Those songs, according to the story, were the only official chant of the Catholic Church. With this story to justify them, Alcuin's new melodies became known as Gregorian Chant, and European monasteries did accept these songs over the coming century.

England, however, being physically separate from Europe, was a last holdout, defending their regional Sarum rite despite Charlemagne's directive. Ironically, this British stubbornness resulted in important developments in music history. In particular, the way monks decorated or harmonized against their chant was unique in the Catholic world. The lush quality of English polyphony was caused by the way English monks used "chords" (in modern terms) in ways that nobody in Europe had thought of yet, in an English Catholic singing tradition called "faburden."

By the fifteenth century, long after Charlemagne, it became clear to French and Flemish composers that the English church music had a very special sound that did not exist on the Continent. They referred to the sweetness and richness of English harmonies as the contenance angloise. Here is an example by the fifteenth-century English composer John Dunstable:

Quam pulchra es

After the Middle Ages, British composers continued to experiment with using that patented English richness in more and more sophisticated ways. Here is an example from the early seventeenth century by William Byrd:

Tu es Pastor ovium

Continental composers came up with a way to approximate that special English sound, and music would never be the same. All the great European Renaissance musicians, and even famous Baroque composers like Vivaldi and Bach, can trace the richness of their counterpoint back to the European co-opting of the contenance angloise. Thank goodness the English held onto their individuality, or the classical music tradition would have turned out very differently!

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FOR FURTHER READING

Bent, Margaret. Dunstaple. London: Oxford University Press, 1981.
Bullough, Donald A. Alcuin: Achievement and Reputation. Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2004.
Long, Kenneth R. Music of the English Church. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1991.
McKitterick, Rosamond. Charlemagne: The Formation of a European Identity. Cambridge, UK; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008.

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Anne E. Johnson taught music history for fifteen years at Mannes College - The New School for Music in New York. She now writes fiction, including historical novels for kids. Her English medieval mystery, Trouble at the Scriptorium, is about a boy who finds a secret message in a chant book. Learn more about Anne at her website, http://anneejohnson.com.

The Publication of Pride and Prejudice

This week marks the 200th anniversary of the publication of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. It actually was on Monday, January the 28th. Today, though, is my day in our haphazard rotation, and as I have mostly presented pieces of history from the Regency era, this is one of them.

Often we equate John Murray (1778-1843) as a preeminent publisher of the period. He was. His father, also John (1745-1793), had started the famous publishing business. John II brought forth such works as Scott's Marmion, Byron's Childe Harold,  The Quarterly Review with the help of future prime minister George Canning.

Still, John Murray was not the first publisher of Austen's works, and not the publisher of Pride and Prejudice. This fell to Thomas Egerton. A man who did publish Austen's Sense and Sensibility.

Jane Austen began the writing of her most famous novel in 1796 and finished this novel then called First Impressions in August of 1797. On November 1 Austen's father, George, sent a letter to the London bookseller Thomas Cadell to see if he might have an interest in it. Cadell declined.

Jane revised the novel in 1811 and 1812. Fifteen years after she had written it, as a writer it is safe to say that her technique and skill would have improved in that time. She also of course changed the name of her novel during this time. Also of importance was that her Sense and Sensibility had been published.

But even prior to this, Austen had secured a publisher. In 1803 her brother henry had offered to Benjamin Crosby, Susan. The sum of £10 was paid. Crosby did nothing with the book beyond advertising it was "in the press." Even with her later success, the company did nothing and Austen repurchased her rights to the piece in 1816.

Thomas Egerton in the meantime accepted Sense and Sensibility for publication in three volumes in 1811 for his Military Library publishing house. Austen paid for the book to be published and then paid a commission on sales of the book. It cost more than a third of the annual household income of Jane and her family at the time. Yet she made a profit of £140 on the first edition, 1000 copies which sold out by July of 1813. A second edition was then published in October of 1813, but this is after Pride and Prejudice was released.

Thomas Egerton was obviously doing much better at taking a book from manuscript to sales than Crosby, and so Pride and Prejudice was offered to Egerton as well. Yet At the time, Austen did not know how well the book would sell, and Sense and Sensibility still had not finished selling its first printing. She sold the rights for a one-off payment to Egerton who made £450 from the first two editions. The amount Jane had paid Egerton to produce just the first printing of Sense and Sensibility.

You could have purchased the first edition of Pride and Prejudice for 18s. Today one of those editions would cost you more than £60,000. The first print run of 1500 copies sold out and a second edition was printed in November of 1813. A third edition was published in 1817. A French edition also appeared in 1813, and there were translations in German, Danish and Swedish. The First US edition was published in 1832. At the present time, Pride and Prejudice sells approximately 110,000 copies a year in about 130 different editions.

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Mr. Wilkin writes Regency Historicals and Romances, Ruritanian (A great sub-genre that is fun to explore) and Edwardian Romances, Science Fiction and Fantasy works. He is the author of the very successful Pride & Prejudice continuation; Colonel Fitzwilliam’s Correspondence. He has several other novels set in Regency England including The End of the World and The Shattered Mirror. His most recent work is the humorous spoof; Jane Austen and Ghosts, a story of what would happen were we to make any of these Monsters and Austen stories into a movie.

And Two Peas in a Pod, a madcap tale of identical twin brothers in Regency London who find they must impersonate each other to pursue their loves.

The links for all locations selling Mr. Wilkin's work can be found at the webpage and will point you to your favorite internet bookstore: David’s Books, and at various Internet and realworld bookstores including the iBookstore, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords.

He is published by Regency Assembly Press

And he maintains his own blog called The Things That Catch My Eye where the entire Regency Lexicon has been hosted these last months as well as the current work in progress of the full Regency Timeline is being presented.

You also may follow Mr. Wilkin on Twitter at @DWWilkin

Mr. Wilkin maintains a Pinterest page with pictures and links to all the Regency Research he uncovers at Pinterest Regency-Era