Editor's Weekly Round-up, September 16, 2018

by the EHFA Editors

Maria Grace takes the spotlight on this week's round-up.

The Role of the Circulating Library

by Maria Grace

Interested in writing for English Historical Fiction Authors? We need 800-2000 words of previously unpublished non-fiction about any aspect of British history. Email us at ehfablog at yahoo dot com for our guidelines.

The Role of the Circulating Library

by Maria Grace

During the Georgian Era literacy rates among the ‘common man’ rose. Consequently, the demand for reading materials increased, driving the rise of two new literary forms, the newspaper and the novel. By 1720, twenty four newspapers were published in Britain. By the 19th century there were fifty four newspapers printed in London alone.

The High Cost of Reading

Unfortunately, the cost of reading material did not decrease with the increase in demand. But, where there’s a will, there’s a way. People banded together to form “newspaper societies” where groups of people, usually those in a local parish, would contribute a weekly sum. With these pooled funds, the society would purchase subscriptions to one or more newspapers. The newspapers would be shared among those in the society.

While they might not be the first to get the news, society members did manage to get their hands on what they might not be able to individually afford. By 1820, around five thousand of these societies were still going strong.

Whether booksellers took note of the idea or came upon it on their own, they realized that, as with newspapers,  there were far more readers who wanted books than could actually afford to pay for them. For some perspective, in 1815, the average (three-volume) novel cost a guinea (a pound and a shilling). Based on the current worth of a guinea's gold content, that was roughly the equivalent of $100 in modern currency.

This doesn’t tell the whole story though. In the early 1800s, a comfortable middle class salary for a family of four was in the neighborhood of £250. (A guinea was slightly more than a pound, but let’s keep the math a little easier.) At the price of a guinea, a typical novel would cost you 1/250 of your yearly income. If you consider the median US income in 2018 as $60,000 (rounding up just a smidge for the sake of the math), then that same novel carries a price tag on the order of $240. Ouch!

Enter the Circulating Library

Booksellers, particularly those in big cities like London, had already begun making changes in their business practices to reflect these economic realities. By the mid-1700s, they had started encouraging clients to linger at their shops “offering comfortable chairs, a warm fireside in cold weather, some even offering refreshments. The best of these shops soon became places where those with literary interests congregated regularly. Even if a bookseller made enough to afford to employ an assistant or two, most spent a goodly portion of their time in their shops, chatting with their customers. In the days before published book and theater reviews, it was these discussions which enabled people to keep up with the news of the literary world. By the mid-eighteenth century, the social aspects of these literary bookstores were nearly as important as the books they housed.” (Kane, 2011)

From here, it was only a short leap for booksellers to allow their best patrons to take books home with them to continue reading, for a fee of course. Trustworthy patrons were often allowed to rent books to read and return. The idea grew and by 1728, James Leake had established the first circulating library in England. (Hilden, 2018) In 1742 Reverend Samuel Fancourt, opened the first circulating library in London. He has also been credited with coining the term circulating library. (Kane, 2011) By the end of the 18th century there were 1,000 circulating libraries across England. (Hilden, 2018)

Libraries Holdings

Early library holdings varied according to the anticipated subscribers of the library. Sometimes existing social clubs or book clubs formed libraries to cater to the interests of their members. These libraries might feature books on science, arts, the classics, law, history, religion or philosophy. Other “club” libraries might feature somewhat broader topics and even some newspapers or magazines which could be made available to members in a separate reading room. These libraries were not open to the public though, available only to members of the club. (Kane, 2011)

Music libraries formed in places like Bath, specifically to allow subscribers access to sheet music. (McLeod, 2017)

Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette - Thursday 11 April 1816 

Since the circulating library was first and foremost a business, it behooved the library to cater to as many as could afford the price of a subscription. So, most library catalogs reflected a much wider selection of books, appealing to the tastes of both men and women since most libraries could not afford to discriminate on the basis of gender. Savvy proprietors quickly realized that the most profitable sort of book was the fashionable novel.

Novels were different than traditional nonfiction books. Where nonfiction works might be read and reread, consulted through the years as a valuable reference, this was not so with the novel. The novel was in fact a “consumable” good. Typically one read a novel once and never again. It was exactly the sort of book that made little sense to purchase (as an individual) and a tremendous amount of sense to rent.

Library catalogues reflected the (largely female reading) public’s hunger for novels. The average circulating library’s catalogue typically listed around five thousand titles. About twenty percent of those were fiction. However, many libraries boasted multiple copies of those novels, sometimes as many as twenty five copies. So that twenty percent of titles probably made up a much larger percentage of the libraries actual holdings. Research on smaller libraries, those averaging less than four hundred and fifty titles, reveals collections of up to seventy five percent fiction titles. Some research suggests that fiction was checked out three to four times as much as nonfiction, implying that for some of these smaller libraries almost all of their stock and trade was in the renting of novels. (Erickson, 1990)

Libraries as a social space

Libraries were first and foremost a business, not a public service as we think of them today. Generally, they required a town with a population of at least two thousand to be profitable. Consequently, they were almost exclusively found in larger towns and resorts.

Libraries could exist in smaller areas, but in those places, they were more of a sideline, added to an existing business. “In 1791, William Lane, famed for the Minerva Press, advertised ‘complete CIRCULATING LIBRARIES . . . from One Hundred to Ten Thousand Volumes' for sale to grocers, tobacconists, picture-framers, haberdashers, and hatters eager for a profitable side line.”(Benson, 1997) Other libraries (those small or not so small) supplemented their income with additional lines of luxury goods like haberdashery, hosiery, hats, tea, tobacco, perfume and even patent medicine. (Erickson, 1990) They might even go so far as to advertise these goods in the local paper.  (McLeod, 2017)

Taunton Courier, and Western Advertiser - Thursday 09 February 1815 

Since libraries survived on traffic from the local public, they sought to draw public attention from the local newspapers. Construction of a new library was often publicized in the newspaper as were additions to a library’s collections.

Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette - Saturday 10 January 1807 

La Belle Assemblee, the popular ladies' journal, carried advertisements for circulating libraries: (McLeod, 2017)



To encourage their customers to visit and to linger, libraries, especially in resort areas, often installed reading rooms and “daytime lounges where ladies could see others and be seen, where raffles were held and games were played …” (Erickson, 1990) These rooms were often gathering places for acquaintances to meet or for people to stop and rest during a long excursion into town.

“Since it was the custom to subscribe to the libraries immediately upon arrival in the watering places and resorts, their subscription books became a useful guide to who was in town. In Sanditon the subscription book is used this way. Mr. Parker and Charlotte Heywood go to Mrs. Whitby's circulating library after dinner to examine the subscription book. When they look into it, Mr. Parker ‘could not but feel that the List was not only without Distinction, but less numerous than he had hoped.’” (Erickson, 1990)

Libraries as a business

The circulating library’s profits (primarily) came from lending books to readers for a fee and later selling the used copies for a reduced price after a book (usually a novel) declined in popularity, typically about nine months after its publication.

Subscription prices varied but were generally affordable for the middling classes. Lending periods could vary depending on the kind of book borrowed—two to six days might be the period for a popular new work. Beyond the price of subscription, heavy fines, which could include purchasing the book, could be imposed for returning books late or damaging the books. (Erickson, 1990)

A catalogue of Hookham’s circulating library, 1829

Just how much did a library subscription cost? “The Nobles' brothers charged ten shillings sixpence per year, or three shillings per quarter. The subscriber was then entitled to any two books from the collection at any time. For an additional charge they would even deliver books to your London residence… Some libraries, such as Hookham's, had sliding rates according to services selected.” (Benson, 1997)

(Sanford, 2010)

Most lending libraries had a reading room with the daily newspapers and the most popular magazines available occasionally. Some had a few bookshelves with the most popular current books on them. What they did not feature were rooms of shelves where patrons could browse. In general, the books were kept in closed stacks, away from the public.

In order to borrow a book, a subscriber would peruse the library catalogue lists and select a title. Then, they would go to a clerk who would consult their lists to find the press mark which would allow them to identify what shelf and position to find the book on. The clerk would retrieve the book and allow the patron to determine whether or not they wanted to borrow said book. Clerks tended to be very knowledgeable on the latest books available and might offer recommendations as well. (Kane, 2015) While waiting for the clerk to retrieve their book, patrons might spend time in the reading room, looking over the goods for sale, or even enjoying some light refreshments.

Library failures

In The Use of Circulating Libraries, Thomas Wilson warned that not one circulating library in twenty is, by its profits enabled to give support to a family, or even pay for the trouble and expense attending it; therefore the bookselling and stationary business should always be annexed, and in country towns, some others may be added, particular small, expensive luxury items. (Erickson, 1990) Though it may seem a rather dire warning, running a circulating library required significant business savvy.

Because novels were largely a consumable good, they had a limited shelf life and depreciated quickly, rather like fruit. A substantial portion of a library’s income had to be reinvested in new stock in order to keep new, attractive titles on their shelves. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, rising book prices made this particular difficult task, with many libraries declaring bankruptcy. Mrs. Martin’s Circulating library in Basingstoke to which Jane Austen subscribed, opened in 1798, and failed in 1800. Half the library failures from 1732 to 1799 took place in the nine year period from 1790 to 1799. (Erickson, 1990)

Over the course of the 19th century, books became less expensive. Declining taxes and falling prices on paper, the rise of the paperback cover, and industrialization made books more affordable. Moreover, public libraries came on the scene and allowed individuals to borrow without a subscription fee. Together, these forces brought about the decline of the circulating library, but their influence on the reading public is still felt today.

References

“British Newspaper History”. Accessed September 6, 2018 https://www.999inks.co.uk/british-newspaper-history.html

Book Shops” Georgian Index. 2003 Accessed August 29, 2018. http://www.georgianindex.net/books/Hatchard.html

Austen, Jane. Ed. R. W. Chapman. Jane Austen's letters to her Sister Cassandra and others. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979.

Benson, Mary Margaret. “Parasols & Gloves & Broches & Circulating Libraries.” Persuasions # 19, 1997 Jane Austen Society of North America.

Erickson, Lee. "The Economy of Novel Reading: Jane Austen and the Circulating Library." Studies in English Literature, 1500-190030, no. 4 (1990): 573-90. doi:10.2307/450560.

Feather, John. The Provincial Book Trade in Eighteenth-Century England. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1985.

Glover, Anne. Regency Hot Spots: Bookseller Shops and the Subscription Library. Regency Reader. November 6, 2015. Accessed August 1, 2018. http://www.regrom.com/2015/11/06/regency-hot-spots-bookseller-shops-and-the-subscription-library/

Hatch, Donna. Circulating Libraries in Regency England. Historical Hussies. Friday, November 7, 2014. Accessed July 0, 2018. http://historicalhussies.blogspot.com/2014/11/circulating-libraries-in-regency-england.html

Hilden, L. A. Circulating Libraries in Regency England. L.A. Hilden. July 23, 2018. Accessed July 31, 2018. http://www.lahilden.com/index.php?categoryid=6&p2_articleid=206

Jacobs, Edward and Antonia Forster. "'Lost Books' and Publishing History: Two Annotated Lists of Imprints for the Fiction Titles Listed in the Circulating Library Catalogs of Thomas Lowndes (1766) and M. Heavisides (1790), of Which No Known Copies Survive." The Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 89 (1995): 260-97.

Kane, Kathryn. Before the Call Number: The Pressmark. The Regency Redingote. January 16, 2015. Accessed August 29, 2018. https://regencyredingote.wordpress.com/2015/01/16/before-the-call-number-the-pressmark/

Kane, Kathryn. Regency Circulating Libraries — Why, How and Who? The Regency Redingote. October, 211, 2011, Accessed August 12, 2018. https://regencyredingote.wordpress.com/2011/10/21/regency-circulating-libraries-why-how-and-who/.

Manley, K. A. "London Circulating Library Catalogues of the 1740s." Library History 8 (1989) 3,74-79.

Mc Leod, Lesley Anne. Who Doesn't Love a Library? Lesley Anne McLeod. Wednesday, November 8, 2017. http://lesleyannemcleod.blogspot.com/2017/11/who-doesnt-love-library.html

Sanborn, Vic. The Circulating Library in Regency Resorts. Jane Austen’s World. August 30, 2010. Accessed August 15, 2018. https://janeaustensworld.wordpress.com/2010/08/30/the-circulating-library-in-regency-times/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Though Maria Grace has been writing fiction since she was ten years old, those early efforts happily reside in a file drawer and are unlikely to see the light of day again, for which many are grateful.

After penning five file-drawer novels in high school, she took a break from writing to pursue college and earn her doctorate. After 16 years of university teaching, she returned to her first love, fiction writing.

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, or follow on Twitter.

Editor's Weekly Round-up, September 9, 2018

by the EHFA Editors

Here's what you missed last week on English Historical Fiction Authors. Enjoy!

September in British History

by Karen V. Wasylowski

(Editor's choice from the Archives)

Winchcombe and its Royal Connections

by Annie Whitehead

Winchcombe and its Royal Connections

by Annie Whitehead

Winchcombe is a pretty Cotswold town, not far from Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire. Walking or driving along its main street, one can immediately see that it has history.

Pretty cottages nestle side by side, the yellow stone seeming to soak up and yet reflect the sunlight. But the history of Winchcombe goes much further than these old buildings would suggest. In fact, at one time, there was a separate 'county' of Winchcombeshire.

The town lies in what was once the ancient tribeland of the Hwicce, an area which was absorbed into the greater area of Mercia, but which originally had its own kings. These kings gradually had their status reduced, eventually issuing and witnessing royal charters as sub-kings of Mercia.

Osric, Sub-king of the Hwicce, founder of Gloucester Cathedral

Winchcombe first made the 'headlines' in the eighth century, when Cenwulf became king of Mercia. Cenwulf succeeded after the death of Ecgfrith, son of Offa. Ecgfrith's reign was short, a matter of some five months, and Cenwulf had no direct links with the previous kings. It is possible that he was descended from a sister of Penda, the pagan king of Mercia, but equally he may have been connected to the Hwicce, for he made claims to 'hereditary lands' in the heart of the Hwiccan territory.

Cenwulf was no less a warlord than previous kings, and in 801 he was attacked by the king of Northumbria. He also, notoriously, captured the king of Kent, who went by the name of Eadberht Præn. Cenwulf put his own brother on the Kentish throne, thus bringing the kingdom of Kent under direct Mercian control.

But Cenwulf's hold on Kent was weakened by his long-running dispute with the archbishop of Canterbury, and it is perhaps this for which he is most remembered. His argument centred around Kentish minsters and the question of whether there should be lay control of ecclesiastical lands. Cenwulf went so far as to threaten to exile the archbishop unless the matter was resolved, and the dispute involved not only Cenwulf, but his daughter, too.

Carving of Cenwulf at Winchombe

Cwoenthryth was not only the daughter of the king, but she was an abbess too. She was the first abbess of Winchcombe Abbey, and her father had also appointed her abbess of the royal minsters of Reculver and Minster-in-Thanet in Kent. The arguments about whether Church or State should control these lucrative sites rumbled on. Some believed that the archbishop even forged documents to support his case.

When Cenwulf died (he was buried at Winchcombe), Cwoenthryth was named as his heir. This doesn't mean that she succeeded to the throne, but that she inherited his property, which included the minsters. The Councils of Clofesho debated her right not to be an abbess, but to own the abbeys themselves. The councils found in favour of the archbishop, but Cwoenthryth was allowed to remain as abbess and retained possession of Winchcombe, although she had to surrender the lands in Kent.

There is a legend surrounding her, which may or may not have something to do with her long-running dispute with the Church. According to this legend, she arranged to have her young brother Kenelm murdered because she wanted to be queen. A dove dropped a message on the altar of St Peters in Rome, alerting people to the whereabouts of the body, which was then re-interred with all ceremony at Winchcombe. The story goes that when she saw the funeral procession, she recited a psalm backwards in order to cast a spell, and her eyeballs promptly fell out, splattering the psalter in front of her with blood.

Winchcombe Abbey fell into decline in the latter part of the ninth century, and in the tenth it was reformed as part of the Benedictine Monastic Reformation in Edgar's reign, when the clerks were replaced with Benedictine monks.

In the eleventh century, Winchcombe was once again in the 'news'. One of the most reviled earls of Mercia went by the name of Eadric Streona - whose epithet has been translated as 'the Grasper' - and it is possible that part of his notoriety stemmed from his treatment of Winchcombeshire. By this time, Mercia was no longer a kingdom, but its earls were still powerful men, ruling vast areas of land.

Eadric made his career in politics and warfare, and famously vacillated at crucial moments. He was accused more than once of murder, and he was a notorious turncoat. Supposedly on the side of Æthelred the Unready - he was married to the king's daughter - he went over to Cnut's side, changed his mind to fight with Edmund Ironside - son of Æthelred - before once again changing sides and leading his men from the battlefield at a pivotal moment in 1016, ensuring that Cnut had the victory over Edmund. After this it was agreed that the country be divided between the two, but Edmund died shortly afterwards, and Eadric's family were, according to some sources, involved in that death, too.

A page from Hemming's Cartulary

But it seems that Eadric's nickname, which might more accurately be translated as 'Acquisitive' came from his administrative dealings. Hemming, a monk of Worcester, compiled what has come to be known as Hemming's Cartulary, and in it, Hemming reports that ‘He [Eadric] joined townships to townships and shires to shires at will; it was he who amalgamated the hitherto independent county of Winchcombe with the county of Gloucester.’

There has been huge and long-standing debate about when and how the shires of Mercia came into being. The old territories such as that of the Hwicce disappeared, with new boundary lines cut through traditional areas. Whether or not Eadric can be blamed for this, it is clear that Hemming thought him to be a grasping man, acquiring lands at the Church's expense to line his own pockets, and local men would have no cause to remember Eadric fondly.

So Mercia's status had been reduced from that of kingdom to that of ealdordom and then earldom, and the independent county of Winchcombeshire was no more. There is no trace left of the original abbey building, although it is said that stones from the abbey have been incorporated into other buildings in the town, and some of the stones are housed in a collection at nearby Sudeley Castle.

If you are immune to nettle stings and don't mind climbing steep hills, you can visit St Kenelm's Well, a site where the funeral procession rested before the little murdered king, Kenelm, was buried at Winchcombe. But your intrepid researcher has done all that for you:-

So, instead, take a walk through the pretty town of Winchcombe and wonder where the stones of the once famous abbey now hide within the walls of the newer buildings.

[all photographs by and copyright of the author. Illustration of Hemming's Cartulary is a Public Domain image via Wikipedia]

~~~~~~~~~~

Annie Whitehead is an author and historian, and a member of the Royal Historical Society. She has written three award-winning novels set in Anglo-Saxon Mercia. Her history of Mercia, from Penda the pagan king to the last brave stand of the earl of Mercia against the Conqueror, Mercia: The Rise and Fall of a Kingdom, will be published by Amberley on 15 September 2018.

Find out more at www.anniewhiteheadauthor.co.uk

September in British History

by Karen V. Wasylowski

GIVE US BACK OUR ELEVEN DAYS!!!
Did you know that absolutely nothing happened in Britain from 3 September to 13 September, 1752? It is a fact. Nothing.

The reason is pretty simple. The calendar used during this period was the Julian Calendar, based on a solar year, 365.25 days. Problem was, it ran a little over time and eventually the calendar fell out of line with the seasons.

The solution: Britain decided to dump the Julian Calendar and adopt the more favorable Gregorian Calendar, and September 3 instantly became September 14. Eleven days were gone, eliminated, abolished. People protested in the streets believing their lives would be shortened. They chanted: “Give us our eleven days back!”

SEPTEMBER 24
September 24 was traditionally the start of the Harvest time in Medieval England and a lovely ceremony, a race to harvest, called “Calling the Mare.” As the very last of the crops would be brought in the farmers would hurriedly fashion a straw horse then go to a neighboring farm that was still rushing to finish and throw the straw mare over his hedge. They would taunt “Mare, Mare” and that farmer would gather his final crop and do the same to any other farmer still trying to harvest. The last man to finish had to keep the straw mare all year and have it on display to show he was the slowest of them all.

SEPTEMBER 29
And when the tenauntes come
To paie their quarter's rent,
They bring some fowle at Midsummer
A dish of fish in Lent
At Christmas, a capon,
At Michaelmas, a goose,

And somewhat else at New Yere's tide
For feare the lease flie loose.
--George Gascoine, English poet, 1577

“Michaelmas” is the feast day of St. Michael the Archangel, the patron saint of the sea and boats, horses and horsemen. “Michaelmas Day” is the final day of the Harvest Season, and it was also the first day of the winter night curfew and the church bells would ring once for each night of the year until that point. The bells are still rung to this day in a city called Chertsy from Michaelmas Day, 29 September, to Lady Day, 25 March.

There are traditionally four “quarter days” in a year (Lady Day (25th March), Midsummer (24th June), Michaelmas (29th Spetember) and Christmas (25th December)). They are spaced three months apart, on religious festivals, usually close to the solstices or equinoxes. They were the four dates on which servants were hired, rents due or leases begun. It used to be said that harvest had to be completed by Michaelmas, almost like the marking of the end of the productive season and the beginning of the new cycle of farming. It was the time at which new servants were hired or land was exchanged and debts were paid. This is how it came to be for Michaelmas to be the time for electing magistrates and also the beginning of legal and university terms.

Michaelmas Superstitions
– The devil stomps or spits on bramble bushes so don’t pick Blackberries after Michaelmas.

– Victorians believed trees planted on this day would grow really well

– In Northern England and Ireland if you eat goose this day you will have good luck for the rest of the year.

– In Ireland if you found the ring hidden in the Michaelmas pie you would soon marry.

FIRST MONDAY AFTER SEPTEMBER 4
In a town called Abbotts Bromley in Staffordshire a colorful tradition takes place. Six men carrying long sticks with horns attached to the top march down the street. Two sets of three men each, their horns are painted blue on one team and white on the other and they charge each other as if to fight, then they retreat, people dance, Maid Marion is there also, along with a boy with a bow and arrow, a triangle player, a musician and a Fool.

SEPTEMBER 14
Holy Rood Day – (rood is another name for cross) Children were traditionally freed from school to gather nuts.

OTHER NOTABLE DATES IN HISTORY

September 2 – 6, 1666 – The Great Fire of London
September 7, 1533 - Queen Elizabeth I born
September 9, 1087 - William the Conqueror dies
September 28 - St. Wenceslas Day
September 29, 1758 - Nelson is born


An Editor's Choice from the Archives, originally published September 30, 2011.

Editors Weekly Round-up, September 2, 2018

by the EHFA Editors

Never miss a post on English Historical Fiction Authors. Enjoy this week's round-up:

Portable Reliquaries: 

Bringing the Medieval Pilgrimage Home

by Kim Rendfeld

The saucy and tragic legacy of a British naval defeat

by Anna Belfrage

The saucy and tragic legacy of a British naval defeat

by Anna Belfrage

The first time I ever had aioli was on Menorca. This is one of the Balearic Islands, and as its name implies it is smaller than Mallorca – but bigger than Ibiza, even if that is neither here nor there. Menorca is famous for an absolutely fantastic lobster soup/stew called caldereta, for its aioli – and for being the birthplace of mayonnaise.

What? I can see some of you straightening up from your slouch. Mayonnaise is a French sauce, you say – derived from Mayenne. Hmm. I am less than convinced, even if I do find the French version of this sauce’s pedigree historically interesting. According to some, one of the more capable (and likeable) generals in the religious civil war that plagued France in the 16th century was addicted to this thick, creamy sauce. I am talking, of course, about Charles de Mayenne, a son of the House of Guise and leader of the Catholic League. So fond was he of this sauce that it was given his name, and all that mayonnaise consumption is supposedly why our Charles grew very stout with age.

If we take a step back and study the ingredients of mayonnaise, one can but conclude that they are very, very similar to those of ailoi – bar the garlic. Okay, so to combine egg yolks, oil, salt and other seasoning and whip it all up into a sauce is not exactly rocket science, but all the same: it is easy to conclude aioli and mayonnaise are probably sister-sauces. For all those who prefer to view mayonnaise as a French sauce, I offer the comfort that even in the Menorca-based mayonnaise myth, the French play a central role. But let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Menorca is an island with a fascinating history. Prehistoric inhabitants left it littered with strange neolithic buildings, the Romans left their imprint on the island, it was a haven for early pirates, it was raided by Turks and by Barbary pirates – in brief, Menorca suffered a long string of wannabe owners. In the early 18th century, the British took possession of Menorca (this in the aftermath of the Spanish War of Succession).

At this point in time, the British Empire was still in expansion mode. Backing the right horse in the Spanish War of Succession gave the British not only Menorca but also the far more strategically important Rock of Gibraltar. Suddenly, the British Empire was a force to be reckoned with in the Mediterranean, and Menorca with its excellent natural harbour at Mahon (Aha! Mahon-aise…) became an important British outpost. The French were not pleased. The Spanish were not pleased. The Ottoman Empire was probably not pleased, but who cared about their opinion? Consensus among the French and the Spanish was that the British were intruders in the Mediterranean, and for some decades they gnashed their teeth and whetted their claws, waiting for an opportune moment in which to strike.

In 1754, the Seven Years’ War exploded, involving more or less all major European countries and their colonies. The Mediterranean became one of the war zones. The Mediterranean probably sighed and grumbled, shifting its waters in restless waves, but through the ages it has become quite accustomed to being contested waters so I guess it groaned dramatically and went “here we go again” while feeling somewhat flattered by the fact that people were STILL fighting over it.

Le Duc de Richelieu

It is time to introduce one of the central character in this our history of mayonnaise, namely the French Duc de Richelieu, Louis Francois Armand de Vignerot du Plessis – Armand to his intimates, among which he counted the king of France, Louis XV. In 1756, this gentleman was sixty, and per the standards of the time he should have been either dead or ailing, but our Armand was a vigorous man, and so he was put in charge of the French force that was to oust the British from Menorca.

Our French dandy set to with enthusiasm, besieging the British garrison of the Fort St Philip which looms over the Mahon harbour. 15 000 French soldiers were landed on Menorca in April of 1756, five times the number the British had. Severely outnumbered, the British garrison set their hopes to the relief forces commanded by Admiral Byng.

Admiral Byng was an experienced naval officer, at the time serving in the English Channel. He was ordered to immediately set off for Menorca, his protests along the lines that he needed more men and more money so as to repair his ships ignored. Byng had no choice but to follow his orders, despite serious misgivings. His ships leaked, he was seriously undermanned, and further to this he had been forced to replace his experienced marines with boatloads of soldiers to be landed on Menorca.

Admiral Byng

Byng made a brief stop in Gibraltar to provision. He begged the governor for more men to augment his numbers, but the governor refused. From Byng’s correspondence, it is pretty clear he knew his chances of success were slim. He was more than aware that his ten ship of the line would be no match against a determined French squadron.

On May 19 of 1756, Admiral Byng and his ships made contact with the French. Outnumbered and outgunned, reluctant to attempt any heroics and constrained by the doubtful sea-worthiness of some of his ships, Byng had no choice but to retire. He made for Gibraltar, there to repair his ships and try again.

Meanwhile, time was running out for the British garrison in Mahon. After three months, they gave up. Always the gentleman, the Duc de Richelieu treated his vanquished foes honourably, and they were allowed to depart the island, leaving the French in charge. And this, dear people, is when the French decided to party – and as we all know, when French people party, they do so with excellent food.

The Duc de Richelieu was fond of his palate. He enjoyed his food and sauces, and therefore where Armand went, there went a cook or two. In this case, the cook was put in charge of a massive banquet in which a sauce made of eggs and cream was to figure prominently. Mon Dieu! No cream! The cook cursed, he gnawed at his apron, he threw a wooden spoon or two at his kitchen boys, wondering what sort of uncivilised place this was that there was no cream. Which is when a local may have suggested he use the “salsa mahonesa” instead (like aioli but without the garlic). Or maybe the cook himself had the brilliant idea of replacing cream with olive oil. We will, I fear, never know.

What remains undisputed is that it was a very good party, with very good food, and ever since mayonnaise has been one of the staple sauces any chef worth his salt must learn to make.

Ultimately, the French dominion over Menorca was to be short-lived. The British won the Seven Years’ War and Menorca was returned to them in 1763, only to be wrested from them again in 1782. And as to Admiral Byng, he was to bear the full opprobium for the loss of Menorca. Upon reaching Gibraltar, he immediately began preparing for a second campaign, but before he could sail, ships from England arrived, relieving Byng of his command and placing him in custody.

What was to follow is one of the worst legal scandals in British history. To save its own hide, the Admirality hung Byng out to dry, and his honour and reputation were torn to shreds by the broadsheets of the time.  As a result of the furor that swept the country, Byng was court-martialed for his failure to relieve Menorca and found guilty of not having done his utmost to win. Under the new Articles of War, there was only one punishment for this: death.

Despite repeated attempts by Parliament, by Prime Minister William Pitt the elder, to urge the king to show clemency, George II refused. And so, on a March day in 1757, Admiral Byng was led out on the quarterdeck of HMS Monarque, knelt on a cushion and was shot dead by a platoon of Royal Marines.

These days, Menorca is a sun-drenched island that welcomes thousands of tourists to its beautiful coves and beaches each year. Very few of those tourists have any interest in history – whether of Menorca or of mayonnaise. But for those of us who do, maybe this post will serve to make us recall Admiral Byng whenever we open a jar of mayonnaise. Or maybe we should remember Louis Francois Armand de Vignerot du Plessis – but seriously, who can possibly remember all those names?

All pictures in public domain and/or licensed under Wikimedia Creative Commons

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Had Anna Belfrage been allowed to choose, she’d have become a professional time-traveller. As such a profession does not exist, she became a financial professional with two absorbing interests, namely history and writing.

Anna's most recent series is The King’s Greatest Enemy, a series set in the 1320s featuring Adam de Guirande, his wife Kit, and their adventures and misfortunes in connection with Roger Mortimer’s rise to power.  The fourth instalment, The Cold Light of Dawn, was published in February 2018.

When Anna is not stuck in the 14th century, she's probably visiting in the 17th century, specifically with Alex(andra) and Matthew Graham, the protagonists of the acclaimed The Graham Saga. This is the story of two people who should never have met – not when she was born three centuries after him. The ninth book, There is Always a Tomorrow, was published in November 2017.

Today, the first book of Anna's new series, The Wanderer, sees the light of the day. A Torch in his Heart tells the time-spanning story of Jason, Sam and Helle who first 3 000 years ago and have since then tumbled through time, trapped in a vicious circle of love, hatred and revenge.

Portable Reliquaries: Bringing the Medieval Pilgrimage Home

by Kim Rendfeld

In 757, if we are to believe the Royal Frankish Annals, Tassilo, the teenage duke of Bavaria, visited Frankish King Pepin and swore his fealty to the monarch and his sons on the relics of five saints. He touched the bodies of Dionysius, Rusticus, Eleutherius, Germanus, and Martin.

Scholars have said the Frankish annalist might have exaggerated the nature of the visit, as medieval writers were wont to do to please their bosses, in this case Pepin’s son Charles (Charlemagne). In reality, the visit might have been one of friendship rather than submission. Besides, that’s an awful lot of saints to bring to this occasion, considering the need for security and holy men. But for storyteller purposes, to have Tassilo swear on all those saints would have made his alleged disloyalty decades later all the more horrendous and justify Charles deposing his cousin.

Imagining massive processions and huge reliquaries carried by carts or multiple men, I was inclined to believe that part about the saints not really being present at the meeting. Then I encountered portable reliquaries in my research for Queen of the Darkest Hour. Perhaps, it was possible to bring a token from all those saints—not whole skeletons but tiny items connected to the divine and imbued with miraculous power.

By I, Sailko (GFDL or CC BY-SA 3.0, from Wikimedia Commons)

Portable reliquaries were common throughout the West in the early Middle Ages, when travel was expensive and dangerous. Although every Christian aspired to go to Rome at least once, many could not afford the trip. The pilgrims who made the journey likely wanted to make the most of it, and a portable reliquary allowed them to do so. About five inches tall, the reliquaries were easy for one person to carry. With them, a pilgrim could bring a physical part of their faith home and interact with it. They would remain in the presence of the saint throughout their life, and they could bequeath this precious gift to their children.

This might be a good time to define just what a relic is. It was a physical thing connected to Jesus or one of the saints. It could be a pebble from a holy tomb, some dust from the tomb’s base, a vial of oil from a lamp burned over the tomb, a bone chip, a hair, a splinter of the true cross, a shred of clothing, or twigs from trees where the shepherds watched their flocks by night. It need not be large.

And it could look quite ordinary. The pilgrim had no objective way of knowing if the twigs were really from a saint’s favorite tree or a nearby woodpile, and some sellers of relics were less than scrupulous. The pilgrim was better off collecting a relic on site rather than buying one. Whatever the form, the objects made events in Christian history real.

To transport the relics, medieval pilgrims could carry a block of wood carved into the shape of a purse and hollowed out. As they traveled, they could collect relics of the saints they visited. The relic was wrapped in a bit of linen or silk, perhaps cut from discarded church hanging or liturgical vestments. Sometimes the cloth was stitched to secure the relics and labeled with a scrap of papyrus.

By Kleon3 (CC BY-SA 3.0, from Wikimedia Commons)

Once filled, the purse was sealed with a plug or sliding panel. To make this carved wood fitting for saintly objects, the purse was covered with a gilded metal, then stamped or decorated with gemstones or ivory. After chains were attached, the portable reliquary could be hung from a church beam or in a chapel, put on a bedpost, worn around the neck, or carried in a procession.

If the reliquary belonged to a church, a holy man could use it to raise revenue, heal the sick with its miraculous powers, bring warring factions to the peace table, or seek intercession during a famine or other natural disaster.

In a palace, the reliquary gave the king an aura of holiness, and it was handy when it came time for a vassal to swear an oath. It was one thing to offend a human lord, but quite another to anger a saint.

Whether Tassilo made a vow (assuming he did) while touching the actual saints’ bones or a portable reliquary with tiny objects, the promise was just as sacred.

Sources
Portable Christianity: Relics in the Medieval West (c. 700-1200) by Julia M.H. Smith

Carolingian Chronicles, which includes the Royal Frankish Annals and Nithard’s Histories, translated by Bernhard Walter Scholz with Barbara Rogers

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Portable reliquaries appear in Kim Rendfeld's third novel Queen of the Darkest Hour. In Kim's version of events, Queen Fastrada must stop a conspiracy before it destroys everyone and everything she loves. The book is available on Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords.

Kim has written two other stories set in 8th century Francia. In The Cross and the Dragon, a Frankish noblewoman must contend with a jilted suitor and the fear of losing her husband (available on Amazon). In The Ashes of Heaven's Pillar, a Saxon peasant will fight for her children after losing everything else (available on Amazon). Kim's short story “Betrothed to the Red Dragon,” about Guinevere’s decision to marry Arthur, is set in early medieval Britain and available on Amazon.

Connect with Kim at on her website kimrendfeld.com, her blog, Outtakes of a Historical Novelist at kimrendfeld.wordpress.com, on Facebook at facebook.com/authorkimrendfeld, or follow her on Twitter at @kimrendfeld.

Editors Weekly Round-up, August 26, 2018

from the EHFA Editors

Never miss a post on English Historical Fiction Authors. Enjoy this week's round-up.

Wickedly Romantic, The Earl of Rochester

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

(Editor's Choice from the Archives)

Bifrons House: The Beginning

by Lauren Gilbert

Bifrons House: The Beginning

By Lauren Gilbert

I was reading an interesting article by Syrie James in which she discussed the Taylor family of Bifrons. This was a property with which I was unfamiliar, and the name struck me as unusual. When I researched it, I discovered just how unusual it was. The first meaning I came to was Bifrons, or Janus Bifrons, the two-faced god of the Romans, one of the earliest gods of the Roman pantheon. He was the gatekeeper who looked both ways and was the god of beginnings and endings, and of special significance to soldiers.

Sebastian Janus’ Cosmographia

The doors of Janus Bifrons’ shrines were never closed in times of war. Bifrons House, near the village of Patricksbourne (also shown as Patrixbourne) in Kent, is in an area not terribly far from where the Romans are thought to have landed in Richbourne, Kent c 43 AD (roughly 11 miles). It is not beyond the realms of possibility that the cult of Janus Bifrons existed in the general vicinity. Certainly, Janus was known in English early enough, as a view of Janus appears in an English edition (c 1550) of Sebastian Janus’ Cosmographia, as shown below. This was one of the most popular books of the 16th century.

(It is also worth considering that the name might be derived from two Latin terms: bi=double and frons=fronted.)

After the Romans withdrew and their influence waned, the Saxons moved in. This included the area in Kent in which Bifrons House is located. As it happens, a significant Saxon cemetery was discovered on a hill known as Patrixbourne Hill within Bifrons Park. The location of the cemetery is close to a Roman road to Dover, which road makes it clear that the Romans had been in the vicinity. The Domesday Survey shows that a church existed in this area in 1068, manorial lords (the Says, the Cheneys and the Patricks) were here from the 12th to the 15th centuries, and the church was served by a few canons from Beaulieu Priory. In 1254, an aid was granted to Henry III by William de Say and the canons of Patrikkesbourne (the roots of the modern name of the village).

The history of Bifrons House itself actually begins about 1607, when John Bargrave (also shown as Bargar), of a prosperous family which lived in the neighbouring parish of Bridge, began construction of the known house. (There may have been an earlier house, demolished to make way for this one.) The family, yeoman farmers and tanners, had long been established in Bridge parish, and had apparently recently become gentry. John was the oldest son of Robert Bargrave (or Bargar) and Jane Gilbert Bargrave, born September 13, 1571 in Bridge. There are indications that Robert Bargrave, who died in 1600, had been a soldier. John himself had been a soldier, serving about 10 years, attaining the rank of captain, and had fought the Spanish. John had multiple brothers and sisters including a younger brother Isaac Bargrave who was in the church, ultimately to become dean of Canterbury.

About 1597, John married Jane Crouch, the daughter and heiress of Giles Crouch of London, a wealthy haberdasher who supplied the funds for building. Indeed, it seems probable that Jane’s fortune was a serious boon to the family. John was also interested investing, being an early investor in the Virginia Colony, and may have established a private plantation in Virginia. It is known, however, that after Robert Bargrave died in 1600, John did not inherit the tannery in Bridge. The house, a Jacobean house of brick with stone details, was completed approximately 1611. A view painted between 1695 and 1705 by Jan Wyck is shown below:

John and Jane had multiple children, including their oldest son Robert, born c 1598 in Patrixbourne, Kent and their sixth son John born c 1610 in Nonington, Kent. During this period, life seems to have been more or less peaceful. John had a grant of arms in September 1611 from Camden Garter, which are visible in this small painting from 1650. However, there are indications that John’s investments were not successful as there are documents of a conflict between John and Sir Thomas Smythe indicating that John was not getting the return he should have and blamed Sir John Smythe, appealing for redress concerning cargoes that were not properly sold (or for which he was not paid), as shown by a petition filed with the Privy Council 1622. Somewhere after this date, it appears there was some kind of crisis, possibly loss of funds, as reminiscences of his son John (John the younger), who was in school at the King’s School in Canterbury around 1623-1624, indicated that he visited his aunt and uncle (John’s sister Angela married John Boys, who was dean of Canterbury Cathedral until his death in 1625) instead of returning to Bifrons which was nearby. The visit to his aunt and uncle could have been his preference, but it could also be argued that the house was closed or the family in straitened circumstances. John the younger studied at St. Peter’s College, Cambridge where he became a librarian then a fellow before becoming a clergyman himself.  Few records mention the family at Bifrons or their circumstances in this period.

It is important to note that this era was a time of unrest. Queen Elizabeth had died in 1603, leading to the succession of James I/VI and the joint rule of Scotland with England. James I was an extravagant king who was not particularly content to be restricted by Parliament. In 1625, James’ son Charles I inherited the throne and had a desire to formally unite England and Scotland as one kingdom, an idea not popular with Parliament. He also believed in the divine right of kings to rule unchecked. Also in 1625, Charles married Henrietta Maria, a Catholic French princess.

John Bargrave died sometime in 1625. It is not known when Jane died. Both were buried in Patrixbourne Church of St. Mary, where their remains were supposedly buried beneath the floor of the south chapel.

John’s oldest son Robert survived to adulthood. Robert was royalist as were his uncle Isaac and younger brother. It is easy to assume that, as the oldest son, Robert inherited Bifrons House and continued to reside there with his remaining family after his father’s death. However, at least in the sources I found, details about this Robert Bargrave are sketchy; not even the date of his death is known. It is interesting to note that he seemed to have inherited the estate at age 27 but did not marry until age 37. During the interim, he was apparently a soldier, and state papers of 1627 indicate Captain Robert Bargrave was involved with provisioning and transporting soldiers to fight the French. He married Elizabeth Peyton in 1635. They had children, the oldest being a son John who was the last Bargrave of Bifrons. Elizabeth’s father was Sir Samuel Peyton, MP, 1st Baronet of Knowlton and his wife Mary Aston. It seems probable that Elizabeth came with a significant dowry, as well as prominent connections. Data indicates that, by 1641, Robert was a Justice of the Peace. As tensions increased and the political situation worsened, Robert seems to have maintained his military connection as data indicates he served for the king and participated in the Kentish uprising in August 1648. I have found no mention of him after that, so it seems possible that he was killed or died shortly after this.

In the meantime, Robert's uncle Isaac (dean of Canterbury from 1625-1643) and younger brother John (fellow at St Peter’s College in Cambridge) had already paid for their royalist sentiments: Isaac was imprisoned in August of 1642; although he was released in a few months, he died shortly after that in January of 1643. John the younger was stripped of his fellowship in 1644, and subsequently fled abroad. He did not return until after the restoration. Among other appointments, he became a canon at Canterbury in 1662. He married a wealthy widow named Frances Osborne in 1665. He died in Canterbury May 11, 1680. In the meantime, his nephew John (Robert’s oldest son, hereafter called John the youngest) seems to have kept ownership of Bifrons House through the Civil War, Parliamentary rule and the Restoration, but could not hold it. In 1662, John the youngest sold the property to Sir Arthur Slingsby. In 1663, he raised memorial stones on the graves of his parents and grandparents in the Bifrons Chapel of the Church of St Mary in Patrixbourne, on which he indicated that his family had been destroyed by the Civil War. (This seems to be true of his most immediate family; the Bargrave family was far from extinct.) And yet, despite the Bargrave family’s Royalist sympathies and activities, the house seems to have stayed with the family throughout the period. I found no indication of destruction or confiscation so I can’t help but wonder how John the youngest's loyalty may have fallen. The house his grandfather built survived...

Stone of John and Jane Bargrave
St Mary, Patrixbourne, Kent - Ledger slab
by John Salmon, CC BY-SA 2.0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=13508584

The story of Bifrons to be continued...

Sources include:

Archive.org. “Captain John Bargrave’s Charges Against the Former Government of Virginia.” The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, Vol. 6 No. 3, January 1899, PP. 225-228. HERE;
THE FULL TEXT OF THE OXINDEN LETTERS 1607-1642, 1641, CXCIII (Draft) Henry Oxinden to Robert Bargrave [MS 28,000, F359] September 23, 1641. HERE; Full Text of Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series of the Reign of Charles I, 1627-1628. Edited by John Bruce, Esquire VPSA. London: Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans & Roberts, 1848. Vol LXXIX 1627: Sept 1 #5, Sept 24 #22. HERE

Bifrons and Beyond. “Bifrons: Owners and Tenants,” posted August 28, 2016. HERE

British History Online. “Parishes: Patricksbourne.” Edward Hasted, 'Parishes: Patrixborne', in The History and Topographical Survey of the County of Kent: Volume 9 (Canterbury, 1800), pp. 277-286. British History Online HERE; Calendar of State Papers Colonial, East Indies, China and Persia, Vol. 6, 1625-1629. East Indies: September 1627, Sept. 24. Cowes, aboard the Loyalty. 508. Capt. Robert Bargrave to Edward Nicholas. HERE

Canterbury-Cathedral.org. “The Bargrave Collection.”HERE

Geni.com. “John Bargrave of Patricksbourne, 1st of Bifrons,” by Erica Howland, last updated June 19, 2015. HERE

History of Parliament online. “Peyton, Sir Samuel, 1st Bt. (c1591-1623), of Knowlton, Kent” by Peter LeFevre and Andrew Thrush. HERE

GoogleBooks.com Ashton, Robert. COUNTER-REVOLUTION: The Second Civil War and Its Origins, 1646-8. Yale University Press, 1994. P. 440 HERE; Hastead, Edward. THE HISTORY AND TOPOGRAPHICAL SURVEY OF THE COUNTY OF KENT VOL. 4. Canterbury: 1799. “The Family of Bargrave”, p. 217. HERE; Bann, Stephen. UNDER THE SIGN: John Bargrave as Collector, Traveller and Witness. PP. 46-48. HERE

KentArchaeology.org. “A History of Bifrons Mansion House” by B. M. Thomas. Archaeologia Cantiana, Vol. 110, 1992. HERE; “Patricksbourne Church and Bifrons” by the Rev. W. A. Scott Robertson. Archaeologia Cantiana, Vol. 14, 1882. HERE; “RESEARCHES AND DISCOVERIES IN KENT – The Builder of Bifrons” by Philip H. Blake. Archaeologia Cantiana, Vol. 108, 1990, p. 270. HERE

Nonington.org. “Nonington and the Kentish Rebellion and the Second English Civil War of 1648.” (post undated.) HERE ; “Colonel Francis and Robert Hammon-Updated Biographies.” January 29, 2013. HERE

USArchive.org. THE VISITATION OF KENT, Taken in the Years 1619-1621 by John Philipot, Rouge Dragon, Marshal and Deputy to William Camden, Clarenceux. Edited by Robert Hovenden, FSA. London: 1898. [From The Publications of The Harleian Sociaty established AD MDCCCLXIX, Volume XLII for the Year MDCCCXCVIII] , P. 6. HERE

Images are public domain except where noted.
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An avid reader, Lauren Gilbert was introduced to English authors early in life. Lauren has a bachelor of arts degree in liberal arts English with a minor in Art History. A long-time member of JASNA, she has presented various programs at the South Florida Region, and a breakout session at the the Annual General Meeting in Ft. Worth, TX. She lives in Florida with her husband. Her first book HEYERWOOD: A Novel is available. She is finishing a second novel, A RATIONAL ATTACHMENT. For more information, visit her website - http://www.lauren-gilbert.com/.