Fourteen Years Hard Labour

by Prue Batten

If, like me, the generations of one’s family in Tasmania can be traced back to Settlement, then it is a fair enough assumption to believe there exists a convict somewhere in the family tree. My great great grandfather was such a man.

William Owen Millington was born on the 10^th June, 1810. Where in England is not known precisely but given that he married his first wife, Mary, in Chipstead in 1836 and that he was tried and found guilty of his crime in Chichester in 1837, one must draw a circle around those areas and assume he and his family lived within that circle.

I rather like the description of Chipstead in the Domesday Book: its assets being three hides, seven ploughs, one mill, and woodland worth five hogs. I’m sure if William had realised that the whole of the Chipstead estate had been worth so little in the Domesday Book that he may not have followed the path he took so many years later. But then we know, don’t we, that value is a relative thing?

Convict carved highway milestone

Starvation is a terrible thing and as a carpenter he was unable to provide as he may have wished. At the age of twenty seven, William stole two sheep for the sustenance of his growing family. Found guilty of the theft, he was tried and sentenced to transportation to the penal island of Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania), where fourteen years hard labour was to be completed. His marriage with Mary, like that with all transported convicts, was annulled as he left.

Woodwork such as William would have done

He was transported from Southampton on the William Bemtick and after sailing in miserable hulk conditions to the other side of the world, arrived in Hobart on 26^th of August, 1838. Tasmania as a penal colony had been in existence for some 30 years at this point and the town of Hobart had been established and outlying settlements were growing with the opening up of valuable agricultural holdings. The town of Bothwell in the Central Highlands of Tasmania was one such and it was William’s good fortune that he was a competent carpenter and was sent there to serve his time, indentured to a resident vicar.

Bothwell was a town that served large pastoral estates of cattle and sheep graziers and in the first two decades of its settlement, churches, a school, soldiers’ barracks and hotels were built, so there was scope for William to tow the line and earn his pardon.

One of the Bothwell houses

No convict could work for money, it was a condition of the sentence. At best he had minimal shelter, clothing and sustenance and could expect no more, so one wonders why my great great grandfather could have been so ill advised as to present an invoice for his work to the vicar. He was of course lashed, how many times we are unable to ascertain, but enough to make sure he trod the straight and narrow through the hot highland summers and freezing winters that Bothwell offered, until he became a free man in 1851.

I always wonder why he didn’t hasten then to the goldfields of Ballarat and Bendigo on the mainland for what is euphemistically called the Great Australian Goldrush. And where it is often claimed, the true Australian identity began to form. Instead, with the desire for major wealth no doubt beaten out of him, he settled in Hobart and married again – to a widow called Elizabeth in Saint David’s Church of England, later Hobart’s Saint David’s Cathedral. He continued his carpentry trade but as often happened with carpenters historically, also became a Hobart undertaker.

Remains of a "humane" cell at Port Arthur

William Owen Millington was lucky to be sent to Bothwell as an indentured convict rather than be shipped to the misnamed ‘model’ (meaning humane) prison of Port Arthur, lucky too that the infamous hell hole of Sarah Island in the far west had ceased operations in 1833. In both instances he may well have been lucky to survive. His trade was a gift, the opening of pastoral lands with towns close by a godsend, and he lived to tell the tale.

As members of the family have tried to track down William’s descendants in England, it has become obvious that many don’t know that ‘lost’ William was in fact a convict. Perhaps there remains the need to ignore such skeletons whereas here in the colonies, one knows one has truly ‘made it’ if one can show such a thing in one’s own ancestry.

What I find most astonishing is that this many years later, William’s great great great grandson, my own son, is a qualified joiner and carpenter but also, ironically, a working member of a family of sheep farmers.

* Prue’s first foray into historical fiction is set in medieval times and was recently #3 behind Jane Austen and Lucinda Brant in Amazon Kindle rankings.

Described as ‘Mesmeric and exact. Spellbinding…’ Gisborne: Book of Pawns is available via

http://amzn.to/LrzO8l

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Food and Drink in Anglo-Saxon England

by Richard Denning

Like all historical fiction writers I strive to be factually accurate. Amongst others facts I wanted to find out about was what folk ate at the time of my books. My novels are set in years around 600 AD.Today I am going to look at diet in that long ago age.

Fifteen centuries is a long time and the average diet of men and women can change a lot in that time. What then was typical food and drink consumed by our ancestors who lived in these islands around the 6th to 7th century and during the centuries following?

For the Anglo Saxons the main meal of day was lunch time, whereas the evening meal more often broth (Briw)

A specialist Cook would be usually be a man: in Old English the word for Cook is a male word.

Types of food

Cereals: Barley, wheat, rye and oats were grown and made into bread and beer. A popular use was pottage: a stew of cereals, pulses and vegetables. This was called briw in Old English.

Drinks: Beer, which was made from malted barley, was the main beverage consumed. This was really a type of ale, meaning it did not contain hops (later centuries would classify beer as ale made with hops). Mead was also produced along with cider but more rarely. In Old English ale was called alu or ealu. Wine was very uncommon and only available to wealthy individuals. Milk was occasionally drunk but more often used for cheese and butter.

Pulses: Beans and peas were commonly used in briw.

Vegetables:Typically used again in briw, these included leeks, onions, garlic, cabbage, turnips, beets, parsnips, carrots. They did not include potatoes – a much later 16th century import.

Herbs: Ginger, coriander, pepper and other herbs and spices were known, but were mainly used in medicines.

Fruit: Very commonly used in diet, although often dried or boiled and stored for later use; these included apples, pears, plums, cherries, rasberries, strawberries and blackberries. Nuts such as hazelnuts were eaten.

Eggs: were an easily available food which also included ducks and goose eggs as well as hens.

Meat and Fish: Pretty much all of an animal would be consumed. Red meat was rarer in the diet; pork and chicken being much more common. Game and fowl was eaten much more than today. Shellfish, such as oysters, were a standard part of the diet: much more than is the case in our day, where they are considered an exotic luxury item (although maybe not as much as 20 years ago). Eels and other fish were often eaten on fast days when meat was off the menu.

Methods of Cooking

Fire Making and ovens:
Most men and women would have their own set of fire steels, flints and tinder boxes. There are occasionally found in pagan graves. Dependant on what was easily available; the hearth was lined with clay tiles or stones and was heart of each house. Commonly this would be a fire pit in the centre of the room. Smoke would escape through a hole in the roof or just be filtrating out through the thatch.

Sometimes heated stones were dropped in pots of water to boil it as a prelude to boiling food.
Larger brick ovens would often have been located in separate buildings and burnt wood faggots.  Sometimes they would consist of a chamber for fire with flues to carry hot air to another chamber where the food was cooked.

Earth Oven: This was created from a pit dug in the earth. Heated stones would be laid in them. Then meat covered with clay and leaves was laid in the pit and the food covered over with hot stones

Cooking Utensils
Pots and Cauldrons could be made from metals such as Iron, Bronze, Copper or Tin. Clay pots were used but soapstone was popular as it was tough and easier to clean than other crockery.

Methods of Cooking
Boiling and stewing was main method used by the Anglo Saxons. Often salted meat was later boiled.
e.g. Goose put in floured bag with milk or butter and lowered into cauldron. Beans, barley and vegetables might be in other bags in the same cauldron.

Roasting and Grilling was used for fresh meat and fish

Griddles and frying pans were in use e.g for cooking flat breads or omelettes.

Bread
For unleavened bread, flat bread and round cakes this was prepared by mixing meal (ground barley, wheat etc) with salt. This would then be cooked on a griddle or upon the hot heath stones near the fire. Adding yeast produced leavened bread. Yeast could obtained from the dregs that remained after brewing ale or even some forms of mould.

Bread was cooked in a pan, upon hearth stones or in the oven. Ovens could be single chambers or two chambers. In the single chamber you put in wooden faggots and burnt them. When the faggots where ash you would take out the ash and put in the dough. This bread would be blackened and discoloured so you would have to cut or break off the crust.

Alternatively, you could cover the bread with an upturned pot and then pile the hot embers ash on top.
Another method was the two chamber oven. Wood would be burnt in one chamber and the bread cooked in the adjacent chamber, which was heated by hot air from the other.


Further reading: I can recommend a superb reference book  by Ann Hagen:Anglo-Saxon Food(published by Anglo-Saxon books).

For more on my Novels set in 6th and 7th Century Northumbria go here: http://www.richarddenning.co.uk/theambertreasure.html

Right-Royal comings and goings at Weymouth 1794

by Mike Rendell

Carved  into the limestone near the town of Weymouth in Dorset, some 300 feet above sea level , is a picture of a man on horseback, 280 feet long. Not just any man, but reputedly King George III, and for over two centuries he has been there, commemorating the fact that the monarch used to visit the town regularly over a fifteen-year period.

George III started his visits in 1789, encouraged by tales about how beneficial the sea air (and indeed sea water) would be to his fragile health. Year after year he came back, his final visit being in 1805. The figure was carved three years afterwards, so George never saw it. That hasn’t stopped all manner of stories about the King being offended because it shows him riding away from his beloved Weymouth, rather than entering it…

The carving has been spruced up this year to coincide with the fact that Weymouth plays host to the Olympic Games sailing competition, and not before time as His Maj has been looking decidedly grey of late!

I thought it would be fun to look out the records of just one of His Majesty’s visits, to see exactly what he got up to. This may help any aspiring writers out there who would like to include a reference to the goings-on in the Royal household. Fortunately the records in the Gentleman’s Magazine for 1794 are really very detailed and give a fascinating picture of the Royal court ‘on tour’.

The record starts by announcing that on August 15th “at an early hour in the morning, after a slight refreshment of tea, coffee &c the King, Queen Prince Ernest and the six Princesses left Windsor in two post chaises with the most loyal effusions of good wishes from the inhabitants for their safe return.”

Weymouth turned out to welcome the Royal party later that day: broadsides were fired by the sloops of war off the coast, while a cannon was fired on the Esplanade by way of a Royal salute. “A melancholy accident happened to the two men firing the cannon, owing to their not sponging the gun properly, the cartridge took fire, by which one of the men had his hand blown off, and the other lost one of his eyes and was otherwise most hurt. The cloaths of the latter were set on fire, and were with much difficulty torn off time enough to save him from being burnt to death.”  Not the most auspicious of starts…

The next day, a Saturday, saw the King take an airing on the Dorchester Road, while Her Majesty and the Princesses walked on the Esplanade and regaled Mr Wild and his family, of Lulworth Castle, with a great share of her conversation.

Sunday 17th August saw the King make an early start – by seven o’clock he was walking to the Look-out, getting back for his breakfast two hours later. The Royal party went to Melcombe Church to hear a sermon by the Revd Groves- they always attended church there, much to the dismay of the Princesses who found the atmosphere inside horribly warm and stuffy, on account of the great press of onlookers. By the evening rain had set in and the King went for a damp walk, leaving his wife and children behind in their rooms.

The fun started in earnest the next day at seven – His Majesty had a quick dip in the briny “in his old machine” before taking an airing on the road to Wareham. A replica of the bathing machine has just been restored and on 1st June was put back on the sea front. Rumour has it that when the King went for a swim a small orchestra was concealed in the next-door bathing machine so that they could strike up “God Save the King” as His Majesty emerged, like King Neptune, from the tumultuous waves!
19th August saw Princess Augusta brave the sea while her father walked along the Esplanade. He then decided to ride out along the road to Dorchester while the Queen and five of her daughters “took an airing in the carriage” before returning to “the Dukes Lodge” for dinner.  The Dukes Lodge was owned at that stage by the King’s brother the Duke of Gloucester. 

A year or two later the King purchased Gloucester Lodge and used it for all subsequent visits, Many years later saw it converted into a hotel. A disastrous fire in the 1920’s  caused the Lodge to be altered with the addition of an extra storey and a huge porch – and it remains as luxury apartments with splendid sea views.

Things settled down to a routine of bathing, walking, riding out and trips to the theatre (apparently often to see the same play…). In the evening of 21st August the whole party traipsed up to see the Army Camp “and saw the men go through their exercises. His Majesty paid the Marquis of Buckingham many compliments on their different manoeuvres” and in return was rewarded with a “21 gun salute and the men gave three huzzas”.

The next day – a quick swim and then they assembled at the pier at ten to be taken on board the frigate Southampton for a trip round the bay. That was just the Dress Rehearsal, since the next day they repeated the exercise in order to review the fleet from on board the Southampton. The Prince of Wales turned up at half past three and at seven the entire family and its entourage headed for the theatre “which was full and brilliant.”

Sunday saw a return to Melcombe church and in the afternoon the Queen and the Princesses ” took an airing in the Sociable on the sands.”  Apparently they brought at least two of these open carriages with them since they all paraded in the Sociables over the next couple of days. The full title was a sociable barouche, and consisted of two double seats facing each other, usually drawn by one but sometimes two horses.

Picture of a Sociable from Ackermann’s Depository, 1816

More visits to the theatre followed in the next few days, to see ‘The Chapter of Accidents’ and ‘The Romp’. If it wasn’t the theatre, they stayed in and played cards, but if ‘She Stoops to Conquer’ was on, they invariably went to see that; or “Animal Magnetism” starring Tony Lumpkin as ‘the Doctor’…
The days dragged by into September with little to alter the routine. On 8th September Princess Augusta bathed while her father walked the esplanade prior to an airing on horseback upon the Dorchester road. It was their Majesties’ Wedding  Anniversary so the guns of the frigates and sloops in the bay thundered out their salute, answered by a salvo from the shore battery. There was a ball and supper that night ‘in honour of the day’.

On the 9th September His Majesty bathed (no longer in his old machine: the new one had been brought into commission). "This afternoon his Majesty held a Privy Council at Gloucester Lodge.” The  meeting broke up at half past four leaving the King time for a an afternoon stroll. That evening the Queen had a concert and a card party, and the next day looked to be a repeat of all that had gone before, - bathing, promenading, taking the air, and “the Royal Family intended to honour the theatre with their presence; but were prevented by the arrival of an express with news of the death of Her Majesty’s sister.”

The Prince of Wales, who loathed these family gatherings (and anyway far preferred the more fashionable company to be found in Brighton) was able to escape on 12th September, going on ” a shooting party to Mr Churchill’s seat near Blandford.”  Those remaining went to see the Sencible Cavalry, where Farmer Enfield had generously “donated an ox roasted whole. The spectators were numerous”. The Sencibles appear to have been a sort of Home Guard, intended to protect the country as opposed to being sent overseas. General  Tarleton stated in Parliament that “he could not see the least public utility – he never saw a corps of sencibles that answered his idea of military excellence: they were well enough adapted for young gentlemen to display their equestrian graces and military prowess in country villages but the expense (half a million pounds in 1796 ) was enormous.” And so they strutted around, doing their stuff, and munching on roast ox…

Another day, more swimming, more games of cards, more airings in the Sociable. I was interested to see that at this stage the Queen had not actually gone in to mourning for her sister – official mourning started on 14th September, four days after the death, when it was reported that ”This day the Royal Family and the nobility here went into mourning for the Queens sister”. That didn’t preclude His Majesty and Prince Ernest going bathing, nor going on board the Southampton for a spot of dinner, nor indeed going to the theatre.

John Constable’s view of Weymouth sea front in 1819.

The 16th was a trifle unfortunate for some: the royal party went to watch the Buckinghamshire Militia be put through their paces – “ His Majesty paid the Marquis a very high compliment on the men being so well disciplined” before sitting down ”to a cold collation in the Lord Chancellor’s marquee. On leaving the camp a royal salute was fired; when a melancholy accident took place – one of the gunners belonging to the artillery had his arm shot off, and expired soon after.”

A trip to Maiden Castle to view the Sencible Cavalry took place the following day, and no doubt His Majesty, taking dinner at Gloucester Lodge, was able to observe the commotion as “Mr Farrow and his two daughters, in the company of two naval officers, were coming on shore at the pier when the boat ran foul of a post buried under the water and was overset.”

 On the 18th September “ Princesses  Mary and Elizabeth bathed in the Floating Machine” - Prince Ernest and the Duke of Gloucester also had a quick dip before  a huge thunderstorm occurred and a gale swept across Weymouth Bay. “About nine the Sunflower, being driven from her anchor, fired two guns of distress…the longboat from the Southampton with great difficulty saved then form going upon the rocks.” The Royals stayed indoors until the storm abated, and then went out in the evening to the theatre. It stayed rough and wet for the next few days but the twenty-second was the anniversary if the Kings coronation so “the troops fired a feu de  joie, which was answered from the batteries. At one the ships fired a royal salute, and were all dressed on that occasion.” In the coming days there were hunting parties and much drinking of tea at Lady Powlet’s as well as more trips to the theatre. But all good things must come to an end, and I dare say that the Royal Princesses were well pleased when the sixteenth September came and they could all spend the entire day packing and preparing for departure; no swimming, no riding, no promenading, and no theatricals…

An early start on the day of departure (18th September) saw everyone set off at five in the morning. They paused for an hour at Salisbury, came through Hartford-bridge, and reached Windsor at half past six. "A general illumination took place in the evening, bells ringing and guns firing, amid the acclamation of the whole town.”
So there you have it – five weeks by the seaside, very much en famille. It certainly helped put Weymouth on the map!

Mike is the author of The Journal of a Georgian Gentleman and blogs regularly on aspects of life in the Georgian era here

The English Longbow – Available in Fiction, Nonfiction, and Video

by Scott Higginbotham

Bertrand’s body was spent as he idly fingered the leather grip on his sword, alternately pulling it halfway from its scabbard and then pushing it back down into the throat.  He hadn’t slept, owing to the fact that rain and the nausea that preceded a battle made rest an impossibility.  Additionally, his warhorse was with his squire near the baggage train; all of the knights were dismounted this day, which gave him pause.

The bowmen stood ready, guarding the flanks of knights and men-at-arms.  Their goose feathered arrows with their steel, four-sided bodkin tips were stuck into the soil at their feet.  Their bows were unstrung, which made Bertrand curious and not a little disquieted, for he could see the French Army, and their scores of knights, Genoese crossbowmen, and soldiers amassing below their perch.  Bertrand strode over to a burly archer who appeared bored with the whole affair.

“Will you be ready when they come?” Bertrand asked.

The bowman was a country yokel by his looks, his speech betraying his background.  “My lord, we can be ready in moments.  Have to wait until they are in bow shot,” he indicated, sweeping his free hand towards the crossbowmen slowly advancing.  Bertrand’s heart clenched, but the archers seem nonplussed.  “I have your back, Sir..”

“Sir Bertrand,” he explained.  “A luckless knight, hoping for better.”

“Aye, then we have something in common, Sir Bertrand. I go by Wat. ”

One of the captains suddenly called out in a hoarse voice, “String ‘em, lads!”  In unison, bowmen began pulling their bowstrings out of their hoods or from underneath their gambesons.  Bertrand looked on in interest.

“This here is the nock, Sir Bertrand, and the string is made of hemp.  The rain weakens the string.  Weak strings mean dead Englishmen,” Wat made clear as he fit the string onto the notches at both ends of the bow stave.  “The nocks are made of carved horn so the string doesn’t slip.”

Wat leaned his frame into the bow, pushing, rather than solely pulling the string back.  His muscled back and shoulders pulsed as he slowly released the tension.  Wat handed Bertrand the bow and nodded.

“If you’d like to try, lord,” he grinned.

        Wat offered the bow to Bertrand; the bow was as tall as he was and he eyed it warily, running his hands over the polished grain.  Bertrand rose to the challenge, mimicking Wat’s deft handling of the stave, but failing miserably as he puffed and strained, bending the cursed weapon only halfway.  He handed it back to Wat and shook his head.

“That’s the Devil’s own weapon, Wat!  What’s this cursed thing made of, steel?”

Wat laughed.  “No, my lord.  This here is from the yew tree.  The outside of the bow where it curves is the sapwood.  Good and easy to bend and is found right under the bark once you strip it clean.  And here is the heartwood, which pushes against you and will dispatch Frenchmen shortly,” he said, running his calloused fingers over the wood on inside of the curve.  “These types of bows came over from Wales, Sir Bertrand.  My Welsh grandsire told me tales about how an arrow from an ash tree could pass through an oaken church door and the first Edward made it law to practice at the butts every Sunday.  It has taken me many years to get thus far…”  He paused as the captain barked out an incomprehensible order, which sounded more like a string of oaths.  “Aye, my lord, the fight is upon us,” he added, fitting an arrow onto the string and bending his body into the bow.

“When the time comes Wat, I have your back,” Bertrand muttered.  Wat returned with a toothy grin and loosed his arrow in concert with hundreds others, felling the crossbowmen stationed down the slope.  Bertrand held his shield at the ready and kept his right hand on the hilt of his sword, watching the flanks, the agitated French knights in the distance, and Wat.  By his reckoning, the teams of skilled archers, including Wat, loosed 10 to 12 arrows per minute and, quickly turned stymied the French advance.

However, heedless of the plight of the decimated ranks of Genoese, the French knights charged, finishing off and trampling over the crossbowmen fleeing the field in terror.  Lances were couched and swords twirled in the arms of the armor clad chevaliers pounding up the muddy hill on their destriers.  Horses stumbled in the holes, which were dug just that morning while others were impaled on stakes protecting the ranks of bowmen loosing frantic volleys. They were close enough that Bertrand could discern that the bodkin points could pierce most plate armor, but was equally devastating to the French warhorses.  

A handful of French knights pressed through the gap and Bertrand found his voice as he unsheathed his sword, running into a maelstrom of steel and flailing hooves.  “For Saint George and England!” he bellowed. 

Bertrand repeated this act several times as the day wore on.

As night fell, Bertrand and Wat sat back-to-back, leaning on one another for support, ruminating over the day’s events. “Wat, I pray God keeps us together.  You had my back…”

“Aye, and you had mine, my lord…”

“Just Bertrand…” he replied, looking up into the stars pinpointing the black sky, forgetting everything for a long moment.            

The longbow was a formidable weapon during the Middle Ages and thus changed the nature of warfare.  At the Battle of Crecy, which was fought on August 26, 1346, King Edward III decisively won against a superior French army.  The French had been harrying the English Army and there was a skirmish at the ford of Blanche-taque (white stones) on the River Somme the day before.  Edward’s army was exhausted and running low on food, however, after fording the river there was clear path for retreat to Flanders if necessary.

At Crecy, Desmond Seward writes concerning Edward’s forces, “His army, now somewhat reduced, consisted of about 2,000 men-at-arms and perhaps 500 light lancers together with something like 7,000 English and Welsh bowmen and 1,500 knifemen—approximately 11,000 men, though estimates vary.”¹  It should be noted how skewed his army was in favor of the archers.   

But Edward III was familiar at this point with the longbow’s capabilities.  A bowshot was approximately 150 yards and could pierce armor at around 60 yards.²  Modern calculations give us a glimpse into the longbow’s raw power and disproves skepticism.  Seward writes, “With a typical war bow, having a draw-weight of 80-100 lb, the instantaneous thrust on the string at the moment it checks the forward movement of the two limbs when it is shot is in the order of 400 lb, so it needed to have a breaking strain of about 600 lb to allow an adequate safety margin.”³

It becomes clear that the closer an archer is to his target the greater the damage and, this was accomplished by a seemingly innocuous wooden stave from a yew tree. This means that if the date is August 26, 1346, you are a French knight, and you have gotten close enough to the English forces at Crecy, then your armor will have some added ventilation.

The descriptions of the longbow in this piece are typical.  Where yew was unavailable, there were other species of trees that were good substitutes.  Other sources differ slightly on the range, draw-weight, and length of the bow; however, there is no dispute that the English Longbow revolutionized medieval warfare.  Its use shifted the paradigm: armor improved, battlefield strategies were modified and, during the Hundred Years War, the English armies were victorious in the majority of the battles (though they never gained the French crown).

The video below summarizes this piece and provides a unique look into history.  Notice the archer’s nonchalant demeanor as he looses the broadheads at the target and you will come to understand the respect this weapon and its archers inspired.         

 

       

  

Check out The Archers of Ravenwood for more information!

Scott Higginbotham is the author of A Soul’s Ransom, a novel set in the fourteenth century where William de Courtenay’s capture and escape tests his mettle and forges his future, and For A Thousand Generations, where Edward Leaver navigates a fourteenth century world where he finds a purpose that the generations cannot contain.  Both novels complement one another without detracting.

¹Desmond Seward, The Hundred Years War: The English In France 1337-1453, (New York: Penguin Group, 1978), 61.

²Ibid, 53.

³Ibid, 55.

Welsh Idylls with Judith Arnopp Part One: St Gwenog's Church

Llanwenog Church, Ceredigion

Just a stone’s throw from my home in the parish of Llanwenog is St Gwenog’s church. I have only recently found the time to go and have a close look and thought I would share my visit with you.

The Church of St Gwenog is delightful and anyone in love with ancient churches and planning a trip to the area should put it on their list of places to visit. It is only a small building and does not take long to explore but entering the church is like stepping into another world.

A memorable battle was fought in Llanwenog in 981, between the Dane, Godfrid, and the native Welsh chieftan, Eineon ab Owain; a battle in which the Danes were totally defeated.  Nearby there is a field on a farm named Ty Cam where the engagement is believed to have occurred.  The field is called Cae'r Vaes, or roughly translated, ‘the battle field,’ although whether the story has its root in fact or legend is open to debate.

In ancient, pagan times the word ‘Llan’ was used to denote an enclosure or sacred place. Early Christians built their churches in such places in an attempt to displace older religions.  By utilising ancient religious sites, Christian priests thought to encourage pagan worshippers to abandon the old gods and adopt the new teachings.

There are many such sites in Wales and Llanwenog is possibly one of the oldest for, although most of the extant building dates back to the 13^th century, the foundation of the earliest church dates to the 6^th.  As I circumnavigate the graveyard it is still just possible to detect that the original enclosure or ‘Llan’ was circular, or oval, in shape although it has now been extended and squared off at one end.

St Gwenog

We know almost nothing about St Gwenog.  She is mentioned in the Laws of Howell Dda copied in the 15^th century and in the 18^th century an annual local fair, held in January, was known as Ffair Gwenog’s.  Links have also been made with St Gwennlian who was active locally but it is a link that is difficult to establish. Even St Gwenog’s Well, once famous for its healing properties, has long since disappeared.  Its existence points to the reason for the site being allocated as a ‘Llan’ in pagan times as water was the earliest form of worship followed by that of the sun until Christianity incorporated elements of those older religions into its own.

Inside the church I see thick whitewashed walls and, at the altar, an early stone carving of Mary and St John at the foot of the cross. It is very badly weathered having originally been built into the exterior end of the side chapel. Now it is safe and sound in the new altar, the figures barely discernible.  I turn away and spy an early wall painting of the Apostles and the Ten Commandments, the faces peer out at me through the fog of time while, above me, the beautiful ceiling rafters smile down.  Richly carved pews escort me to the door and I climb a few worn stone steps while the tiny stone heads of the saints watch me as I pass.

Outside the battlemented tower draws my eye from the older, softer parts of the church. It is an imposing feature, providing protection for the village in times of strife.  It was a later edition to the building, built in the 15^th century by Sir Rhys ap Thomas whose heraldric shield is displayed above one of the windows. The building was to commemorate Henry VII’s victory over Richard III at Bosworth in 1485.  Many men from Llanwenog parish fought and died for Henry in his quest for the throne but, once established, the Tudor dynasty did little to enhance the fortunes of their Welsh countrymen. 

I sit for a while among the markers of the dead and think about what I have seen.  I am touched by the peace and the great age of the place and love every inch of it.  But for me, the best thing about the visit is the font.  I slip back inside for another look. 

Llanwenog Church interior

It used to sit near the western doorway but has been moved to the south side of the lady chapel.  Today it is filled with a tacky flower arrangement totally out of keeping with the awesome antiquity of the piece. I take away the flowers and with the tip of one finger trace the marks where the cover once sat.  It dates from the Norman period and is showing its age.  The stone is carved with the heads of the twelve apostles, worn from centuries of visitors drawn to touch the primitive features as I am doing now. I have seen these carved faces described variously as ‘crude’, ‘grotesque’ and ‘rough’ but to me, they are beautiful. The tracks of the ancient chisel giving voice to the long dead craftsman.  I wish I could spend longer here. I run my fingers over the surface and feel as if I am clasping the gnarled hand of the mason that worked it.

font, featuring the twelve apostles, circa 11th century

Information about Judith Arnopp and her books can be found on her webpage: http://www.juditharnopp.com

The Changes in Ladies' Fashion from 1780s to 1814 - Too Much or Too Little by Maggi Andersen

In the 1780s and early 1790s, skirts were full and round and slightly puffed out at the back, although the wide panniers had gone. Generous fichus covered the bosom. As France’s Republican and classical styles spread across the Channel, however, the bulk of the skirt gradually diminished; it took ten yards to make a dress in 1796, but only seven yards in in 1801. The number of petticoats diminished too, until some women wore only one or even none at all. (To the scandal and shock of moralists and the secret delight of  the male population.) Petticoats in the past had been highly decorative and visible – a prominent part of the dress itself. Now, if it showed at all, it was an ornamental band at the bottom of a dress.

A ball gown found in 1801 Gallery of Fashion is a ‘robe’, a descendant of the open-fronted gown that exposed the petticoat, in the style of the 18^th Century. 

Like the robe, the frock or gown could be adapted with equal ease to morning or evening wear. One 1807 example of an evening frock, has a square neckline, short sleeves and a relatively smooth front of sprigged muslin; all the fullness is gathered at the back and allowed to cascade down as a train. An 1808 walking frock, however, has no train and is worn with long gloves, a jacketlike vest, a shawl, and a straw bonnet. This careful covering of almost all exposed skin would have met with the approval of the author of The Mirror of Graces, who advised the cautious woman that:

"Morning robes should be of a length sufficiently circumscribed as not to impede her walking, but on no account must they be too short; for ... [when] showing the foot or ankle the idea of beauty is lost..."

In addition to the petticoat, many women now took to wearing drawers. These were quite long – long enough that Lady de Clifford pointed out to Princess Charlotte that hers were visible every time she got into or out of a carriage. Unimpressed, the princess replied, “the Duchess of Bedford’s are much longer, and they are bordered with Brussels lace.” There was, as the princess implied, little effort taken to hide the drawers, which came into fashion around 1806.

Above the petticoat, a chemise was worn. This was a knee-length linen or cotton shirt, often with a frill of some kind at the neckline and short sleeves. It was usually, but not always, worn beneath a dress. If it were worn, part of it, for example, the decorative neckline, often peeked from underneath the dress.

As the silhouette slimmed, the waistline rose, until it ended just under the breasts. The dress itself was rather loose and pulled into classical folds of drapery, often by drawstrings at the neckline. Beneath this apparent ease and lightness, many women retained the stays they had worn for centuries. These were corsets made of heavy cotton fabric or silk and stiffened with whalebone. They were sometimes assisted in front with a “divorce,” at triangular piece of padded metal that separated the breasts.  

Necklines were very low and revealed a great deal of the bosom, so many women retained the modesty pieces of earlier decades, tucking a gauzy piece of fabric around the back of the neck and into the top of the gown, sometimes crossing at the front. During the day women wore the morning or walking dress with long sleeves, gloves and bonnets, which covered all of the skin. Morning gowns were often white.

Evening gowns were exclusively short-sleeved until about 1814. The anonymous author of The Mirror of Graces (1811) suggested white above all for evening gowns, as “White is becoming to all characters,” but if a large woman "(A lady of majestic deportment),” chose to wear colors, she should adhere to “the fuller shades of yellow, purple, crimson, scarlet, black and grey.”

After 1814 fichus were discarded and women displayed their low necklines to full advantage. 

Resource: ALL THINGS AUSTEN An Encyclopedia of Austen’s World Volume I A-L, Kirstin Olsen.

The Notter-in-Laws of George III

George III

When we research the Regency Era we have to take in account the monarchs and royals. The Regency itself is of course the ten years during the worst madness of George III, from 1811 to 1820 in which his son reigned in his place. After which George IV ruled for ten more years, till 1830, in his own name. He was followed by his brother William, for seven years.

And then Victoria came to the throne. The daughter of the fourth son of George III.

George III had 9 sons, though, two dying in infancy, Octavius and Alfred. Of the other seven, four had mistresses that were of very long duration. These mistresses and the marriages are worth examining.

Queen Charlotte

Only four though are we concerned with, of the seven which grew to adulthood.

Of those seven, four maintained long relationships with women whom they so cherished and with whom they consorted that the ladies were as wives to them. George, Frederick, William, and Edward had relationships that were of such strength, or in fact were marriages, that the women cannot be ignored.

And if by example, or by coincidence so many of the first circle of the Ton also carried on affairs, these royals' relationships need to be examined. We can’t ignore it in our Regencies. To forget that one of the Princes was really shacked up with one of these ladies would put our tales out of the context of the times.

So we need take a look at our Princes and their mistresses.

George IV

George IV

His mistress/wife Maria Fitzherbert from 1785 to 1794, and then from 1798 to the 1820’s, though he was married to Princess Caroline of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel.

We all should know that Geroge did not like the bride he took to secure the payments of his debts (600,000 pounds or about 1.2 billion in todays reckoning) and achieve the allowance he desired, a woman to whom he was only dedicated for a few short years until the birth of his beloved Charlotte. Three days after which he wrote a new will giving all to Mrs. Fitzherbert.

For over 30 years Mrs Fitzherbert and the Prince were together, and when asked directly if she had ever had children of the Prince and King, she coyly changed the topic of conversation to something else. And never would she sign a statement saying she had not had children.

Maria Fitzherbert

Maria had been married twice before she met and married George. It is fairly well documented that now she had proof that the two did get married secretly. She was the granddaughter of a Baronet and niece of an Earl. Her first husband was Edward Weld who died 3 months after the marriage and left her with nothing. Then she married Thomas Fitzherbert who died in 1781, but left her with 1000 pounds (about 2 million dollars) and a town house in Park Street, in Mayfair.

She married George, Prince of Wales at the time, on December 15, 1785. George paid the debts of Reverend Robert Burt to get him out of the Fleet Prison to perform the ceremony. It was not a legal marriage for the marriages act of 1772 forbade George to marry without the approval of the King and his Privy Council. If it had been legal, George would never have become king. So an interesting conundrum. But it did mean that the two acted as if they were married for a number of years.

Princess Caroline of Brunswick-Wolfenbütte

Thirty of more years, with the minor interruption of Princess Caroline. An interruption that began with a letter on June 23rd 1794 and then ended with a reconciliation during the summer of 1798. Their final separation came in the early years when he began to reign as George IV. At his death though, it was discovered that George had kept all her letters.

William IV, finding the truth in the assertions of the marriage, offered to make Mrs. Fitzherbert a Duchess, but instead she just asked to wear widows’s weeds and dress the servants in royal livery. She died in 1837.

Frederick, Duke of York and Albany

Frederick, Duke of York and Albany

His mistress was Mary Anne Clarke from 1803 to sometime between 1809 and 1811; he then married Princess Frederica of Prussia.

Mary Anne Clarke

Of the four major mistresses that the princes had, Mary Anne is my least favorite and she should have been so much better able to have held onto her position than the others. She was first wed before she was eighteen to a stonemason. She was the daughter of a tradesman. Her husband went bankrupt and she left the man. She had several liaisons so that when she met the Duke, in 1803, she was well established as a courtesan.

Princess Frederica of Prussia

Frederick set her up in a fashionable residence. He was the Commander-in-Chief of the army, the ultimate reason for her downfall. She could not resist selling commissions in the army to support their lavish lifestyle. After she admitted this to the House of Commons, the Duke was forced to resign his post. Later it was found that he had no knowledge of the sales. Yet he surely knew that he spent money and allowed her to do so and that they were living beyond his allowance.

But then the money must have grown on trees. The Duke cut all ties to the woman, though he paid her a large sum of money so she would not publish letters he had written her. Then, when he was exonerated, he was reinstated as Commander-in-Chief of the army by the Prince Regent, his elder brother.

Mary Anne was later tried for libel and imprisoned. Her daughter by the Stonemason would marry Louis-Mathurin Busson du Maurier. Her grandson was the caricaturist George du Maruier and great-granddaughter was Daphne du Maurier.

William IV, also Duke of Clarence

William IV, also Duke of Clarence

His mistress, Dorothea Jordan who he lived with for twenty years and gave him ten children.  He then married Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen.

This is my favorite of the mistresses for with ten children, this was a true marriage between successful people. Dorothea Bland was the daughter of stagehand and an actress, theater people, and when thirteen, her father left her mother and four other siblings for another actress.

Dorothea Jordan

Dorothea thus went into the family business and became famous, known to have the most beautiful legs on stage of the day. There was no Mister Jordan, as the other ladies of the royals were married prior to catching a Prince. She did have an affair with the manager of the Theater Royal, Cork, Richard Daly and had a daughter when she was twenty, named Frances.

Then in England, she had an affair with an army Lieutenant named Charles Doyne. He proposed but she went to work for the theater company operated by Tate Wilkinson. This is when she took the name Mrs. Jordan. After Wilkinson, she had an affair with George Inchbald. She would have married Inchbald, but he did not ask. In 1786, she began an affair with Sir Richard Ford, who promised to marry her. They had three children together. When she realized that Ford was never going to wed her, she traded up to William.

She began her affair with William in 1791 and moved in with him at Bushy House.

Bushy House

Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen

They raised their ten children there for the next twenty years. Sounds like a marriage to me. After twenty years they separated and William gave her a yearly stipend. She raised the girls and he took custody of his sons. For his dignity, he asked that she not return to the stage to continue to receive her stipend. When one of her son-in-laws came into debt and needed funds, she did return to the stage to raise the necessary monies. William then cut her off and took back care of their daughters.

Now broke, she fled to France in 1815 and died a year later in poverty. Her descendants include many of the famous. One is David Cameron, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom as of this posting.

Edward, Duke of Kent and Strathearn

Edward, Duke of Kent and Strathearn

His mistress for twenty-eight years was Julie de St. Laurent, until he then married 1818, Princess Victoria of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, who became the mother of Queen Victoria.

Julie de St. Laurent

Princess Victoria of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld

The Duke had several mistresses but for twenty-eight years he was enamored of Thérèse-Bernardine Montgenet or Julie de St. Laurent. It is suggested that the two met in Geneva in 1791. She then joined the Duke in Gibraltar. When King George learned of this, he sent Edward to Canada, and Julie followed again to Quebec City. In 1803, the Duke moved back to London and she took up in a small house in Knightsbridge. There are several rumors about sons born to the Duke who would obviously have been older than Victoria.  There were also rumors that a wedding occurred that was morganatic, though any marriage would be contrary to the Marriages Act of 1772.

The circumstances of the Duke of Kent and his mistress provide perhaps the best material should a writer wish to turn the Regency on its head with a fantasy. Their first son is rumored to have been born in 1793 and the second in 1794. When Prinny assumed the throne as Regent in 1811, the boys would have been eighteen and seventeen. Or when he came to the throne in his own right in 1820, twenty-seven and twenty-six. Young men!

While doing research I came across paintings of the other sons and their wives:

 Ernest Augustus

 Augustus Frederick

Adolphus

And then there are the princes who died in infancy:

* * *

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.

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

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