A handful of historical authors brave the wilds of unusual settings and times to create distinctive, exciting novels just outside of the mainstream. Join us as we chronicle the trials and rewards of our quest--from research and writing to publication and establishing lasting careers.
Horace "Haw" Tabor may not have been long on talent or ambition, but he made up for it with sheer dumb luck. The year 1878 found the 48-year-old Tabor running a store in Leadville, Colorado, while his loyal wife, Augusta, kept a boarding house. Storekeepers at the time had the option of providing a "grubstake" for miners on their way to the wilds for a shot at fortune. In return, the storekeeper was entitled to one-third of any riches the miners discovered.
That spring, Tabor grubstaked a pair of sorry-looking miners named August Rische and George Hook. They didn't seem to know much about prospecting, but the two of them wandered into the hills and, by chance, dug into a vein of pure silver. Their Little Pittsburgh Mine yielded $20,000 a week. Haw Tabor's $60 investment earned him $2 million in the first year alone without getting his hands dirty. In short order he became mayor of boomtown Leadville and lieutenant governor of Colorado. Augusta, unable to adjust to her husband's meteoric rise, became more and more reclusive.
Enter Baby Doe. Born Elizabeth Bonduel McCourt, and newly divorced from her slacker husband, Harvey Doe, she was blue-eyed, blond, spunky, and irresistible. In 1879 she met the newly-rich Haw Tabor. Despite their 26-year age difference, the two fell in love. Over the next few years, as Tabor's relationship with Augusta became more distant, his liaison with Baby Doe became increasingly public. In 1881, Tabor quietly obtained a backwoods divorce from his wife (without bothering to inform her). At some point he and Baby Doe were quietly married.
Eventually word of the secret divorce reached Augusta Tabor. She hauled her ex-husband into court and received a million dollar settlement.
In 1883 Tabor was appointed to fill a 30-day vacancy as U.S. Senator from Colorado. He and Baby Doe took advantage of the chance to stage a lavish Washington wedding, attended by no less a person than President Chester A. Arthur. Soon, however, the gossip caught up with them. The priest who'd performed the ceremony declared the marriage illegal because both parties had been divorced. But since they'd already married each other earlier, it didn't make any difference. The wedding had been pure theater.
That was the end of Tabor's political career. Although he and Baby Doe lived well for a time, and he attempted to run for governor and senator, public opinion had turned against him.
In 1893 the final blow cam when the federal government announced that it was going to stop buying silver for its currency and convert to the gold standard. The crash ruined Tabor. Everything he had was sold, but nothing he could do was enough to support Baby Doe and their two daughters. In 1899 he died of appendicitis in the single room he shared with his family. Shortly before his death, he reportedly told his wife to "hang onto the Matchless Mine."
Baby Doe spent the remaining thirty-five years of her life in a cabin outside the Matchless Mine in Leadville. Still beautiful, she could have easily remarried. She chose instead to "hold onto the Matchless."
In early March of 1935, her frozen body was discovered on the floor of her cabin. Deserted by her daughters, she had passed into legend. Her life has been the subject of two books, a Hollywood movie, two operas, a screen play, a one-woman show and countless other books and articles.
Alexandre Dumas's The Man in the Iron Mask penned Louis XIV's brother as identical, and a man who was later locked away with his face obscured so he could never pose a threat to the king. In reality there was no way Philippe, Duc d'Orleans, was a threat to Versailles.
Monsieur, as he was known, was more apt to act like a madame than anything else. An iron mask had nothing to do with his alleged impotence; that was more a result of his chosen lifestyle--a lifestyle encouraged by his family so never to pose any threat to the king's position. It seems this royal family had a history of tempestuous family relations...
Philippe loved putting on dazzling displays of fancy wigs, rings, flashy clothing and, yes, high heels. He sashayed through the halls of Versailles blowing kisses to boys and indulging in all manner of more feminine activities. A court reporter cited as claiming him "short and pot bellied" and the sort of man who would cover himself in ribbons and women's perfumes.
Louis XIV adamantly disliked such behavior on men, but tolerated it from his brother, who he adored. Philippe was encouraged to engage in his frilly ways in order to leave the more masculine ways to his older brother. When court business would arise, Louis would tell Philippe to go amuse himself so he could settle down to the work of running a kingdom. Off the duc would go to his favorite pastimes. Philippe enjoyed gambling, chasing young men, and court life. He was an art collector and patron of architecture and despite what his debts and dalliances might have cost Louis, the brothers spent much time together.
He was married twice. His second wife, Elizabeth Charlotte, a princess of the German House of Wittlesbach, bore him his only surviving son--Philippe Charles d'Orléans, petit-fils de France, Duke of Orléans.
Despite the women's clothing, make-up and jewels, Philippe Duc d'Orleans proved himself a fierce warrior in battle and fought without fear. His wife remarked he was more afraid of gunpowder smoke than actual bullets. Perhaps the smoke did more damage to his flamboyant wigs.
Though Anne Bonny earned herself a spot in the history books as one of the most famed female pirates off all time, she started her life of scandal right out of the gate with her birth in 1700 (or 1702 depending on source). Reputed to be the daughter of Irish attorney William Cormac and one of the family's maidservants, Anne's arrival did not please Mrs. Cormac one bit, though one account has suggested that Mrs. Cormac revealed her knowledge of her husband's affair by waiting in the maidservant's bed for William to come for one of his regular visits. However the family dealt with this new development, William absconded to Charleston, South Carolina, with the maidservant and baby Anne to start life anew.
Colonial life brought prosperity to the Cormac family, and Anne grew up with a degree of privilege, though her fiery nature manifested itself early on. Some accounts claim that Anne stabbed one of her maidservants and at another time set fire to her father's plantation, but there is no conclusive evidence to support or deny either claim. Anne's wild ways led to an impulsive teenage marriage to James Bonny, a sailor with a taste for the high life, who hoped to gain control of Anne's family's fortune. William Cormac would have none of that, or of his daughter and son-in-law, so the newlyweds set sail for New Providence Island in the Bahamas.
Their rocky marriage crashed. James became an informant for Governor Woodes Rogers, while Anne preferred to spend her time in local taverns rather than keeping house. It was there that she met the dashing pirate James could never be. Calico Jack Rackham, so named for his flashy style of dress, matched Anne in spirit and thirst for adventure, and the two soon began an affair. James Bonny brought his wife before Governor Rodgers to have her flogged for the crime of adultery. She was ordered to return to him to live as a proper wife. Such was the law of the land, but as pirates subscribed to a law of their own, Jack Rackham had a counter-offer.
Jack offered to buy Anne from James in a divorce by purchase--not entirely legal, but accepted practice in some circles. Anne refused; she was not property to be bought and sold. Anne's sentence was passed but not carried out (foreshadowing alert), and she and Jack disappeared to embark on their piratical partnership. They would later acquire another companion, the female pirate Mary Read, who had a scandalous background of her own. Mary was raised in male disguise by her widowed mother, as her paternal grandmother would support a grandson but not a granddaughter. The trio wreaked havoc upon the seas, taking many prizes. Some accounts have Anne bearing Jack's child during their two years together, though varying accounts list the child as being stillborn or left to be raised with a family in Cuba.
The pirate's life is said to be a merry but short one, and in 1720, Anne and company found this to be true. Captain Jonathan Barnet, working for the governor of Jamaica, captured the trio's ship. Only Anne and Mary fought to the end, the men reputedly being too drunk to fight. All were brought to trial for piracy, and Anne and Mary both plead their bellies, claiming to be pregnant, which would earn them stays of execution until their children were born. Neither execution ever took place. Mary died of a fever which may or may not have been connected to childbirth. Anne's fate was a mystery for quite some time.
Had she in fact been executed? No documents or contemporary sources existed to that effect. What then? Had she died in prison like Mary? Again, no documentation existed anywhere to indicate that. Had she perhaps escaped and resumed piracy under a new identity? The truth, according to the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, using evidence provided by Anne's descendants, is that William Cormac ransomed his daughter back to South Carolina. There she bore Jack Rackham's posthumous child. She later married James Burleigh, bearing him eight children, and lived a quiet and circumspect life until her death at the age of eighty-two. Perhaps that was her most scandalous feat of all.
Contact Leanna to give her your address. The book must be claimed by next Sunday or another winner will be drawn. Please stop back later to let us know what you thought! Congratulations!
This week on Unusual Historicals we welcome the return of author Michelle Beattie as she celebrates the release of her second high-seas romance ROMANCING THE PIRATE. Here's the blurb:
Alicia Davidson thought her memory loss and scar were the result of a childhood fall. When she discovers the truth, and that she has a sister she doesn't remember, Alicia will stop at nothing to fill in the missing pieces of her past. Her determination will pit her against a man who not only resents her, but who awakens a flood of desire.
Blake Merritt makes it clear he wants nothing to do with Alicia or anyone bearing the Davidson name. Only when Alicia stows away on his ship does he concede to take her to her sister. His hope is that the faster he gets rid of Alicia, the faster he'll forget her. But he hadn't planned on falling in love with her.
The trip to find her sister is a rocky one filled with fiery emotions, the shocking confession of Blake's anger toward her family, a passion that runs hot as the Caribbean sun and the discovery of a traitor who wields the power to once again take away everything Alicia holds dear.
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Carracks the parrot stole the scenes in WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES. Does he come back in ROMANCING THE PIRATE?
Yes, Carracks is back in ROMANCING THE PIRATE, and every other book of the series as well! Funny how something so small can turn into a big deal. Several reviewers, including Publisher's Weekly, commented on Carracks and so of course we had to bring him back!
Alicia, the heroine in ROMANCING THE PIRATE, is Sam's sister from WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES. I thought she was killed in a pirate attack when she was a young girl?
Sam believes Alicia is dead but as we see in the beginning of ROMANCING THE PIRATE, Alicia is alive and doesn't remember anything of her life before she was twelve (which is when the pirate attack took place). She soon learns of Sam and the book is her quest to find her sister.
Who, then, is the hero?
Ah, Blake Merritt. Though not a true pirate, he makes a living as a privateer and he's a man with his own troubled past. He loathes the Davidsons, the family that raised Alicia, and so when Alicia asks for him to take her find her sister, Blake refuses to use his ship to help her. It's an interesting dynamic seeing them together and his struggle not to like Alicia, despite the fact that she is, as far as she knows, a Davidson.
Will there be battle scenes like there was in WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES?
Of course, you can't have pirates and villains without battles!
Any other new characters that were fun to add?
Oh my, yes. Blake has two first mates, a tall gorgeous man named Nate and a tender-hearted dwarf named Vincent. I absolutely love the dynamic and the friendship between these three men and you'll see some more of them in PLAYING THE PIRATE, which comes out fall of 2010.
So each book of the pirate series stands alone but some of the same characters come back?
Yes, my plan is for each book to have it's own characters and plot line, but you will see many of the same faces pop in and out.
WHAT A PIRATE DESIRES was your first release. What fun things came your way with that?
Well, my first book signings which were in my hometown and more like family reunions! Being a finalist in the Bookseller's Best Awards, doing two book signings at the Romance Writers of America's conference in DC this past July. Being reviewed in Publisher's Weekly and seeing all the good reviews come in. It makes all the long hours at the computer and the rejections worthwhile!
What's next for you?
I'm currently revisiting the first book I ever a wrote, a western, and am trying to beef it up a little and turn it into a trilogy.
Which authors inspired you?
Those that did and still do: Nora Roberts, Sandra Brown and Janet Evanovich. Some new authors I've recently read and loved include Cherry Adair, Robyn Carr, Carla Neggers, Susan Mallery.
You write historicals and yet none of those authors mentioned write them. Don't you read historicals?
Not many, no. Because my favorite historicals are westerns, and for the most part westerns have been non-existent in recent years, it forced me to read elsewhere. Now that I'm writing westerns again, I will be reading those again.
What do you do when you're not writing?
I always have a book nearby. I know some people say they're too busy to read, I've never had that problem. I can't NOT read, especially before bed. And reading inspires me to write, so it's also necessary. I also spend time with my kids, I enjoy the company of my friends, lately I've been busy in the garden. I enjoy movies and sadly, I'm addicted to word games on Facebook!
Any suggestions for aspiring writers?
Never give up. If you want this, REALLY, want this, then work hard. Work every day, or as often as you can and force yourself to work when you don't feel like it. Accept that rejections are part of the business and learn to put them aside so that you can keep writing. Not everyone will like your work and that's okay. Write well, write often, never stop submitting. Believe in yourself even when it seems like nobody else does and keep writing.
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Thanks so much for visiting us again, Michelle! For readers of Unusual Historicals we have...you guessed it...a giveaway! Just leave a comment or question for Michelle and you'll be entered in a drawing for one free copy. I'll draw a winner next Sunday, so spread the word! Void where prohibited. Good luck to everyone!
Margaret Mallory is holding a new contest on her website. The details? Her covers are so gorgeous that she decided to have small posters made of them. Go to her website to enter for a chance to win 12"X18" color posters of her KNIGHT OF DESIRE and KNIGHT OF PLEASURE covers. She will pick a winner Oct. 15th.
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Jennifer Mueller just learned the release date for her newest new unusual historical. On November 12th, 2009, GHOSTS IN THE NIGHT will be coming out at Red Rose Publishing. Here's an excerpt and the blurb:
Andrew Townsend survived the trenches only to come home to find most of his family had died in their relative safety. When his last uncle dies and leaves him a plantation in far off Ceylon, Andrew drops his life in London and sets out for a new life--only he finds out the past doesn't let him go so easily. With a layabout friend tagging along, and not to mention a case of shell shock that brings to mind the war at every turn, he's more ghost than man. But the woman across the way, as much a ghost as he, is able to help the visions of war as everything he knows is falling apart. Digging up long dead secrets is the only option and it's enough to get them killed.
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Join us tomorrow when author Michelle Beattie will be here to talk about ROMANCING THE PIRATE, her latest high-seas adventure romance!
And stay with us through the coming weeks when we'll be featuring the best unusual historical authors! Michelle Willingham, Kimberley Killion, JoAnn Smith Ainsworth, and Jennifer Linforth will be our guests. We hope you'll join us!
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Have a good weekend! If you have an announcement to make for next week, email Carrie. See you next week...
For this week's Excerpt Thursday, we're featuring a sample of Michelle Beattie's sexy, adventurous high-seas romp ROMANCING THE PIRATE. Join us Sunday when Michelle will stop by to answer questions and give away a free copy! Don't miss it!
Alicia Davidson thought her memory loss and scar were the result of a childhood fall. When she discovers the truth, and that she has a sister she doesn't remember, Alicia will stop at nothing to fill in the missing pieces of her past. Her determination will pit her against a man who not only resents her, but who awakens a flood of desire.
Blake Merritt makes it clear he wants nothing to do with Alicia or anyone bearing the Davidson name. Only when Alicia stows away on his ship does he concede to take her to her sister. His hope is that the faster he gets rid of Alicia, the faster he'll forget her. But he hadn't planned on falling in love with her.
The trip to find her sister is a rocky one filled with fiery emotions, the shocking confession of Blake's anger toward her family, a passion that runs hot as the Caribbean sun and the discovery of a traitor who wields the power to once again take away everything Alicia holds dear.
***
"You're Blake Merritt?" she asked.
"Last time I checked."
Alicia exhaled heavily. "Well, this is unexpected."
"As is your presence here." He looked over her brown trousers and white shirt. "Mourning periods must be getting shorter and shorter."
Her mouth pinched. "I am in mourning, but it's not practical to travel in a heavy skirt. And I'm here because I require your help."
Blake crossed his arms over his chest. "I wasn't aware that I'd given you the impression of someone who cared."
"You haven't" she answered. "And had I known it was you he'd sent me to, I may have reconsidered."
Blake gestured to the door. "It's never too late."
"And give you the satisfaction? I think not."
"Well, let's say I am not in the giving mood. Whatever it was you needed from me, you'll have to find elsewhere."
"What is it ya need?" Captain asked.
"I'm looking for someone. Her name is Samantha. She was last seen five years ago leaving Port Royal on a stolen sloop."
"Well, now that we have so much to go on, let's not waste any more time. I mean, five years. Why, she's practically around the corner," Blake taunted.
"Samantha..." Captain said with some thought. "Are ya family?"
Alicia nodded. "She's my sister. But I don't know where she is."
"And she's in a sloop, ya say?"
"No," Blake corrected. "She was five years ago."
"That's what I was told," she said, once again talking to Captain.
"Hmm..." Captain said, rubbing his protruding belly. "I don't know 'ow much value this is to ya, but me knows a Samantha."
"Oh, good. I'll go ready the ship," Blake muttered.
"She's about yer height, a little older. Her hair is darker than yers, but I know her and Luke own a sloop." He shrugged. "Might be the same girl."
"You expect me to sail off to..."
"St. Kitts."
Blake choked. "You want me to sail to St. Kitts on the chance that this is the same woman?" He looked from Captain to Alicia, not sure who was more mad. "I won't waste my bloody time, nor that of my crew."
"How far is St. Kitts?" Alicia asked.
"At least a six day's sail, longer if ya get bad weather."
"Doesn't matter how long it takes as I won't be taking you."
Her hand dropped back to her side. "We've never met. Why is it that you hate me so?"
Though the rum was starting to work, it wasn't enough to shut out her words. And it certainly wasn't enough to tell her the reason for his hatred.
"I've heard of you, let's leave it at that. And I won't sail you anywhere, therefore it appears you've wasted your time."
She pulled an envelope from the bag she carried and dropped it on the table.
"Perhaps this will change your mind."
He recognized the swirl of letters and knew who'd written his name.
"Where did you get this?" he demanded, all fuzziness gone from his head.
"I found it in my father's effects. There was a letter for me as well. He was the one who told me that should I look for Samantha, I should seek your help."
"How is it ye don't know where she is?" Captain asked.
"We were separated years ago and I lost my memory. I don't remember anything before I was twelve, and that includes Samantha."
Blake sneered. "Let me guess. You're loving father knew all along you had a sister and he only decided to tell you after he'd died?"
She looked down her nose at him, her color returning. "That's right."
"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered.
"He also said you were a good man that I could trust."
Her tone left no doubt that she believed the complete opposite.
Blake didn't open the letter. It was too late for words, or apologies, or anything else that could be written on that parchment. And her sad tale didn't change that. If anything, it infuriated him further. He refused to let himself be used.
"Well?" Captain asked, his gaze darting between her and Blake. "What'll it be?"
Blake leaned forward, shoving aside the letter with his elbow. "I'll tell you what it'll be," he answered, his gaze piercing hers. "It'll be a cold day in Hell before I take you anywhere."
Her jaw clenched and her eyes hardened. She braced her hands on the table and leaned forward. "I don't know who you are, or how you knew my father, but clearly he was mistaken about you."
"That, my dear, is the first thing you've said that I agree with." And because the truth of that haunted him every day, he raised his cup to his lips and drank.
Born in 1648, Thomas Thynne was the eldest son of Sir Thomas Thynne and his wife, Stuarta. On the death of his childless uncle, Sir James Thynne, in 1670, he inherited Longleat House and the family's estates, and his nickname derived from the fact he was believed to have an income of £10,000 p a.
Richer than most peers, Thomas spent most of his money on his own pleasure. He dressed as if he were the epitome of the Restoration rake, sporting "a gray wide-brimmed hat, silk shirts and stockings...a lace embroidered waistcoat, black velvet breeches and a green frock coat," all topped off with a gold-fringed scarf seven yards long.
Having gone to Oxford, he joined the entourage of James Stuart, Duke of York, but later some quarrel arose between them, and Tom switched allegiance to the rival camp of James Scott, Duke of Monmouth. Thomas spent most of his time at his London house in Cannon Row, leaving his Wiltshire estates in the hands of agents, and himself free to tour London's brothels and gaming houses in the company of the Duke of Monmouth. When Monmouth made a tour of the west country in 1680 his arrival at Longleat was greeted by flowers strewn in his path.
As a member of the Green Ribbon Club, Thomas took a leading role in the Exclusion Crisis of 1679-1681. On 30th June 1680, he was one of ten lords and ten commoners who proposed that the Duke of York should be brought before the grand jury of Middlesex as a papist. As a result, Charles II deprived Thomas of his command of the Wiltshire militia in November 1681.
Thomas married Elizabeth Percy, the only child of the deceased Joceline Percy, 11th Earl of Northumberland. Despite being only fifteen, Elizabeth was already an extremely rich widow, having married Henry Cavendish, Earl of Ogle, at the age of thirteen. The earl died within the year, and since Elizabeth had remained with her grandmother at Petworth throughout that time, it was almost certain that the marriage was never consummated.
The dowager Countess of Northumberland, Elizabeth Howard, was equally keen for her grand-daughter to marry the wealthy owner of Longleat. To obtain her acquiescence to the match, Thomas promised Elizabeth an allowance of £2,000 a year, and during the course of the wedding ceremony in July 1681, with the pronouncement of the words "with all my worldly goods I thee endow," he produced a bag holding one hundred gold guineas and held them out to his intended, who promptly wrapped it in her handkerchief and stuffed it down the front of her dress.
Having escaped her grandmother's clutches, Elizabeth was reluctant to shut herself away in Longleat House, so she went to the Netherlands for a year with Lady Dorothy Temple, the wife of William Temple. Thomas happily spent the intervening time gaining control of his wife's property despite the protests of many of her relations, whilst awaiting her return.
In the Hague, Elizabeth met John Philip Köningsmark, a Swedish Count, adventurer and serial seducer of impressionable women. Having succeeded in making Elizabeth his latest conquest, Köningsmark twice issued Thomas Thynne a challenge to fight a duel through his steward, Captain Christopher Vratz. Thomas declined, but it is said to have sent his own party of six men to France to murder Köningsmark, or at least forcibly dissuade him from further contact with his wife.
Undaunted by their failure, in February 1682 both Köningsmark and Vratz arrived in England, and together with the count's groom, a Pole named George Boroski, and Swedish mercenary John Stern, they met at a tavern in Whitehall. Whilst Thomas's carriage travelled down the Pall Mall, where he had gone to pay a call on the dowager Countess of Northumberland. Vratz seized the horses and forced the carriage to stop, while Boroski fired his blunderbuss at Thomas Thynne. Stern was too drunk to take any direct part in the murder, but fled the scene.
Wounded in four places, Thomas and rushed to his house in Cannon Row and died in his bed at six the following morning, surrounded by the Duke of Monmouth and his friends.
Magistrate John Reresby conducted the investigation, and on the 13th February, Vratz was arrested in his lodgings and gave up the whereabouts of the other two. All three were apprehended and taken before the king.
Vratz admitted that he had been employed by Köningsmark, but claimed that the intention was only to force Thomas to fight a duel and that Boroski had misinterpreted his instructions. Boroski in turn swore that Vratz had ordered him to kill Thynne, whilst Stern pleaded that he had no knowledge of either the planned duel or the murder and had simply the misfortune to be in the company of Vratz when the deed was done. Nevertheless all three were placed in Newgate prison. Charles II was relived to discover the arrest of three foreigners meant that the crime was of no political significance, and was unlikely to stir up anti-Catholic sentiment.
Count Köningsmark was apprehended a week later at Gravesend by the Duke of Monmouth's steward, where he had been trying to obtain passage home to Sweden. He was briefly examined before the king and council and again by the Lord Chief Justice Francis Pemberton, before being committed to Newgate.
Vratz, Stern and Boroski were charged with murder, while Köningsmark was charged as an accessory before the fact. His cohorts were all found guilty, but Köningsmark was acquitted. The judge, the Lord Chief Justice Francis Pemberton, condemned the three conspirators as "not fit to look upon themselves as accounted men," favoured Köningsmark during the trial at the Old Bailey, and directed the jury to acquit him. Reresby claims he had been offered (and declined) a bribe to favour the Swede and John Evelyn said that Köningsmark "was acquitted by a corrupt jury".
Vratz, Stern and Boroski were sentenced to be hanged at Pall Mall on the 10th March 1682, the scene of the murder. Vratz faced his fate with stoicism and asked to be excused the customary blindfold; "Never man went so unconcerned for his fate," wrote John Evelyn. Boroski shook with fear, whilst Stern verged on hysteria. As the man who had pulled the trigger, Boroski's corpse was hung in chains at the Mile End Road as the customary warning, Stern's remains were quietly buried, whilst Vratz's corpse was embalmed and returned to Germany in a lead-lined coffin "too magnificent for so daring and horrid a murderer," according to Evelyn.
Köningsmark was killed in 1687 at the Siege of Argos fighting the Turks. The twice-widowed Elizabeth Percy married Charles Seymour, 6th Duke of Somerset, known as "The Proud Duke" who was rumoured never to have addressed his wife by her given name.
Thomas Thynne's remains were interred at Westminster Abbey in a marble tomb. Beneath his recumbent figure flanked by a prancing cherub, a bas-relief panel depicts a representation of the scene of his murder at Pall Mall.
An anonymous verse circulated soon after his death:
Here lies Tom Thynne of Longleat Hall Who never would have miscarried, Had he married the woman he lay withal Or laid with the woman he married.
In 1782, the chattering classes of Britain and the United States were held transfixed by the trial of George Bisset for criminal conversation. The transcript had seven printings in the first year--even George Washington requested one.
The action was brought by Sir Richard Worsley and he claimed damages of £20,000. In 1775, Worsley had married a very rich heiress, Seymour Dorothy Fleming. At first they were the perfect power couple of Georgian England. Sir Richard became a rising star in Lord North's government and Lady Worsley was popular in the ton. They had a son, Robert Edwin, within a year or two of the marriage and to the outside word, a daughter born August 1781.
However, all was not happy and Sir Richard buried himself in his work and in the Hampshire Militia. Worsley was also a collector of Roman artifacts and there is a suggestion that such men often preferred not to look at women. Lady Worsley would later say that for the the first three months of her marriage, it was like living with a brother. In any case, there is evidence that he did not pay Seymour much attention and Lady Worsley craved attention.
Lady Worsley took a number of discrete lovers. Her friendship with one George M Bisset became something more and she gave birth to their daughter.
On 18 November 1781, she eloped with Bisset, travelling in a carriage from Lewes to London where the pair hid. It can be assumed that Lady Worsley felt a quick divorce would be in the offing and everything would be settled discretely. After all Sir Richard had been content with the previous arrangement and had even accepted Bisset's daughter as his own.
Faced with the humiliation of a runaway wife, Sir Richard decided to take his revenge. He sued George M Bisset for £20,000 in damages. This would have ruined Bisset.
As the pair had been discovered in London, there was no real defence on Bisset's part. He had eloped with another man's wife. However Sir Richard had reckoned without his estranged wife. Rather than allow her lover to be ruined, Seymour decided to run the defence that not only had her husband known about her various relationships, he had approved of them.
Thus a series of men were called who gave discrete evidence about relations with Seymour. All of London, in particular the demi-monde, turned out to hear the case.
However, it was the evidence of the bath lady that stunned the court. She could well remember that sunny day when the Worsleys and Captain Bisset came to use her bath house. She had helped Lady Worsley undress. Suddenly she had heard Sir Richard saying in a loud voice: "Seymour, Seymour, Bisset is looking at you." Furthermore, the bath lady announced the only way Bisset could have achieved this feat was by standing on Sir Richard's shoulders. In short, Sir Richard had been exposed as a voyeur. The cartoonists had a field day and ever afterward, people would think of the cartoons rather his collection of Roman cameos or his position as counsel in Venice.
The jury took every little time in deliberating. Sir Richard won his case but was rewarded one shilling for his trouble rather than the fortune he had demanded. A transcript of the trial can be seen here.
While the case was going on, Lord North's government was busy collapsing and it has been speculated that because Sir Richard was distracted, the government fell and a government that was sympathetic to ending the American Revolution was installed.
Sir Richard, his career and reputation in ruins, took more revenge by refusing to divorce Seymour. They formally separated in 1788 and she was only entitled to pin money, rather than her extensive dowry. Neither did she have any access to her lavish wardrobe or jewels. Seymour and Bisset's love affair ended as they could not marry and she took a series of lovers in order to survive (as well to rub her husband's nose in her notoriety).
Unfortunately Sir Richard also refused to allow her access to either of her children and the little daughter died. Seymour suspected that the death was from neglect. There was further tragedy when their son, in his late teens, died due to an accident with the militia. Because of the Napoleonic War, their son had not been able to have Grand Tour (not considered safe) but had served for a time with the Hampshire Militia.
It was only after Sir Richard's death that Seymour regained control of her fortune. She eventually married a second time--to a much younger man. She was never received in polite society again but was eventually allowed to have some contact with her sister and mother.
If you are interested in the scandal, Hallie Rubenfield wrote a comprehensive account of it in Lady Worsley's Whim.
Long before there ever was a TMZ, People or Page Six, early 18th century scandal sheets fed the reading public's insatiable appetite for gossip. Readers, mostly in London, went to their coffee or chocolate house to find issues of their favorite tattling periodicals and there read about and discuss the scandals du jour.
Newspapers were a relatively recent phenomenon, and expensive. Not many could afford to have them delivered to their homes. To catch up on the latest gossip, men went to public coffee houses and gaming clubs, and women visited India Houses (tea shops with a considerable amount female customers), and there, over revivifying beverages, they could chat with friends and read about the scandalous events amongst London's elite.
Just like today, when we have a huge range of tabloids to choose from, the Londoner in search of scandal had a range of rags and broadsheets, including The Tatler [sic], The Flying Post, The British Apollo, The Observator, and The Female Tatler. Some were published for years. Others folded within weeks or months. The periodicals were themselves the subject of scandal, such as The Female Tatler, whose authorship by "Mrs. Crackenthorpe" was debated, and, for a time, there were two Female Tatlers, each claiming to be real.
Almost all of these scandal sheets claimed that their purpose was to be instructional and morally edifying. Mrs. Crackenthorpe claims:
When we daily hear of unaccountable whims and extravagant frolics committed by the better sort, we must expect those of inferior classes will imitate them in their habits of mind, as well as body, and the only way to correct great men's foibles, is handsomely to ridicule 'em; a seasonable banter has often had a reclaiming effect, when serious advice from a grave divine has been thought impudence.
No doubt this is a case of protesting too much. As soon as people stop misbehaving, then there is nothing left to publish, and the tabloid folds up shop. And besides, reading about scandals is just plain fun.
While The Tatler, penned by "Isaac Bickerstaff" (in reality Richard Steele), often reported on foreign and domestic news in its "St. James' Coffee-House" section, poetry in its "Will's Coffee-House" section, and juicy gossip (or "accounts of gallantry, pleasure, and entertainment") was found in its "White's Chocolate-House" section. Those being gossiped about were given pseudonyms, the Blind Items of the day. Readers could entertain themselves for weeks speculating on the identities of the mystery persons. In the Thursday, April 21, 1709 issue, the following sensational tidbit was published:
...do but observe Clarissa the next time you see her, and you will find, when her eyes have made their soft tour round the company, she makes no stay on him they say she is to marry, but rests two seconds of a minute on Wildair, who neither looks nor thinks on her, or any woman else.
Other tasty morsels include Mrs. Crackenthorpe's exposure of a certain "Beau Maskwell:"
...one of the walking gentlemen of the age; a person Sans Consequence, who every day makes his tour of public places with a kind of thoughtless serenity....who has studied Piquet more than Aesculapius ever did Physics, can slightly place the cards to his own advantage.
In other words, don't take him up on an offer of a friendly card game, or find your purse lighter than before.
Everyone loves to read about people behaving badly. And the 18th century scandal rags gave readers plenty of outrageous behavior. Consider, for example Mrs. Crackenthorpe reporting on:
...Madam Slender-sense, who is lately fallen ill of a swelling she receiv'd by a slip the last ball night. Some are so rude as to say that Beau Garsoon, the French dancing master, was the occasion of it; and Mrs. Manlove, who generally searches into the bottom of such an affair, solemnly protests she saw them go up one pair of stairs together. What they did there, she can't tell, but the lady has been ailing ever since.
And long before Mr. Blackwell had his infamous Best and Worst Dressed, list, 18th century broadsheets loved mocking over- (and under-) dressed people, especially women trying to look and act younger than they were.
Mrs. Tawny alias Tawdry, is desired not to be so fantastically whimsical in her dress...nothing is more disagreeable and ridiculous than to see a woman of her years affect the gay, youthful airs of their daughters. And, by the by, she is reminded that if she will be so preposterously gaudy and flaunting, that if there was little more economy observed in her dress, she would not be altogether the subject of so much laughter.
No matter the century, it seems scandal never goes out of style!
Contact Jean to give her your address. The book must be claimed by next Sunday or another winner will be drawn. Please stop back later to let us know what you thought! Congratulations!
What fortune awaited sweet, timid Percy Parker at Athens Academy? Considering how few of Queen Victoria's Londoners knew of it, the great Romanesque fortress was dreadfully imposing, and little could Percy guess what lay inside. She had never met the powerful and mysterious Professor Alexi Rychman, knew nothing of the growing shadow, the Ripper and other supernatural terrors against which his coterie stood guard. She knew simply that she was different, haunted, with her snow-white hair, pearlescent skin and uncanny gifts. But this arched stone doorway offered a portal to a new life, an education far from the convent--and an invitation to an intimate yet dangerous dance at the threshold of life and death....
Hello, Unusual Historicals! I'm very glad to be here, thank you, and excited to answer a few questions about why my debut novel, THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER is just perfect for this site...an unusual historical indeed!
So what's unusual about this historical?
Here's just some of the Unusual you'll find in this book:
1. The Heroine, Miss Percy Parker, is nineteen, can see visions and ghosts, and she looks like a spectre too. Deathly pale skin, hair, eyes; she's striking, but eerie--an unusual looking woman to say the very least. In a world of kick-ass heroines, Percy is unique in her timidity, but her sweet nature shines with passion and strength when she is given the opportunity.
2. The cross-genre nature of this book. It has a slew of different influences, genres and archetypes, combined in a new way. New York Times bestselling author Alethea Kontis for Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine show called the book "Bulfinch's Mythology and Harry Potter and Wuthering Heights in a blender."
3. Reviewers have said this book is a fresh take on the Gothic novel and have commented that there's nothing like this book on the market today.
4. A tender, slow-building, palpable and often aching discovery of a passionate romance.
5. There is a whole lot of Paranormal going on. There's ghosts and sacred rituals, myth and legend, darkness and light, prophecy and portents. And you've never seen a Jack the Ripper quite like this.
What's your favourite part of this book?
Two scenes--scenes that have been with me since the beginning of the book--remain my favourite. 1. An irreverent and banter-filled pub scene where The Guard lets down their guard a bit. 2. The night of the Academy Ball there's a private, tender, moonlit waltz between my hero and heroine.
What about the Victorian era fascinates you?
The grit and the grandeur, the polar extremes--a Jekyll and Hyde society of civility and monstrosity. Constraints and ingenuity. Romance and restriction. An age rich with skeptics and mystics, spiritualists and body snatchers. I've been obsessed with the 19th century for as long as I can remember, it has always compelled me; a rich muse that continues to be as fascinating to me as it first was when I first discovered it; playing a role in an adaptation of Oliver Twist around age 9. I've never looked back from that inspiration, I've only gone deeper inside. The more I examine the era, the more I see.
What's your favourite aspect of writing Historical novels?
The escapism and world-building that you can create when you apply real facts to your imagination. Historical constructs are like sandboxes in which to play and build things within a specific framework. I find a historical setting comforting because often the most interesting ideas can come from having limitations, and the specifics of a historical setting can provide that structure. But what's great about writing a Historical Paranormal / Historical Fantasy is that I can play even more boldly and fantastically within that world and the moment I'm too limited, I've any number of magical or paranormal possibilities. The two play off one another so well, the historical and the magical, they're such delightful companions.
How can people find out more about you and the Strangely Beautiful series?
I've also posted four excerpts here for you to enjoy.
Blessings and thanks for your time!
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Thanks for joining us today, Leanna! For readers of Unusual Historicals we have...wait for it...a giveaway! Just leave a comment or question for Leanna and you'll be entered in a drawing for one free copy. I'll draw a winner next Sunday, so spread the word! Void where prohibited. Good luck to everyone!
And stay with us through the coming weeks when we'll be featuring the best unusual historical authors! Michelle Beattie, Michelle Willingham, Kimberley Killion, and JoAnn Smith Ainsworth will be our guests. We hope you'll join us!
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Have a good weekend! If you have an announcement to make for next week, email Carrie. See you next week...
This week on Excerpt Thursday we're featuring a taste of Leanna Renee Hieber's ghostly Victorian-set romance THE STRANGELY BEAUTIFUL TALE OF MISS PERCY PARKER. Join us on Sunday when Leanna will stop by to answer questions and give away a free copy! Don't miss it!
What fortune awaited sweet, timid Percy Parker at Athens Academy? Considering how few of Queen Victoria's Londoners knew of it, the great Romanesque fortress was dreadfully imposing, and little could Percy guess what lay inside. She had never met the powerful and mysterious Professor Alexi Rychman, knew nothing of the growing shadow, the Ripper and other supernatural terrors against which his coterie stood guard. She knew simply that she was different, haunted, with her snow-white hair, pearlescent skin and uncanny gifts. But this arched stone doorway offered a portal to a new life, an education far from the convent--and an invitation to an intimate yet dangerous dance at the threshold of life and death....
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London, England 1888
A young woman, the likes of which London had never seen, alighted from a carriage near Bloomsbury and gazed at the grand facade before her. Breathless at the sight of the Romanesque fortress of red sandstone that was to be her new home, she ascended the front steps beneath the portico with a carpetbag in tow. One slender, gloved hand heaved open the great arched door; Miss Percy Parker paused then stepped inside.
The foyer of Athens Academy held a few milling young men, papers and books in hand. Their jaws fell in turn. In the diffuse light cast by a single chandelier they saw a petite, unmistakable apparition. Dark blue glasses kept eerie, ice blue eyes from unsettling those stares that she nervously returned. Much of her snow-white skin was hidden from view by a scarf draped around her head and bosom, but only a mask could have hidden the ghostly pallor of her fine-featured face.
The sudden tinkling of a chandelier crystal broke the thick silence. Percy's gaze flickered up to behold a young man, equally pale as herself, floating amid the gas flames. The transparent spirit wafted down to meet her. It was clear from the stares of the young men of solid mass, rudely focused on Percy, that they were oblivious. She herself acknowledged the ghost only subtly, lest she be thought distract as well as deformed.
The spectral schoolboy spoke in a soft Scots brogue. "You'd best give up your pretensions, miss. You'll never be one of them. And you're certainly not one of us. What the devil are you?"
Percy met the spirit's hollow gaze. Behind her glasses, her opalescent eyes flared with defiance as she asked the room, her voice sweet and timid, "Could someone be so kind as to direct me to the headmistress's office?" A gaping, living individual pointed to a hallway on her left, so she offered him a "Thank you, sir," and fled, eager to escape all curiosity. The only sounds that followed were the rustling layers of her sky blue taffeta skirts and the echo of her booted footfalls down the hall.
HEADMISTRESS THOMPSON was scribed boldly across a large wooden door. Percy took a moment to catch her breath before knocking.
She soon found herself in an office filled to overflowing with books. A sharp voice bade her sit, and she was promptly engulfed in a leather armchair. Across the desk sat a severe woman dressed primly in grey wool. Middle-aged and thin, she had a pinched nose and high cheekbones that gave her a birdlike quality, tight lips twisted in a half frown. Brown hair was piled atop her head, save one misbehaving lock at her temple.
Blue-grey eyes pierced Percy's obscuring glasses. "Miss Parker, we've received word that you're an uncommonly bright girl. I'm sure you're well aware that your previous governance, unsure what to do with you, supposed you'd best be sent somewhere else. Becoming a sister did not suit you?"
Percy had no time to wonder if this was sardonic or understanding, for the headmistress continued: "Your reverend mother made many inquiries before stumbling across our quiet little bastion. Considering your particular circumstances, I accepted you despite your age of eighteen. You're older than many who attend here. I'm sure I needn't tell you, Miss Parker, that at your age most women do not think it advantageous to remain...academic. I hope you know enough of the world outside convent walls to understand." Headmistress Thompson's sharp eyes suddenly softened and something mysterious twinkled there. "We must acknowledge the limitations of our world, Miss Parker. I, of course, chose to run an institution rather than a household."
Percy couldn't help but smile, drawn in by the headmistress's conspiratorial turn, as if the woman considered herself unique by lifestyle inasmuch as Percy was unique by fate. But the woman's amiability soon vanished. "We expect academic excellence in all subjects, Miss Parker. Your reverend mother proclaimed you quite proficient in several languages, with particularly keen knowledge of Latin, Hebrew and Greek. Would you consider yourself proficient?"
"I have no wish to flatter myself--"
"Honesty will suffice."
"I'm f-fluent in several tongues," Percy stammered. "I'm fondest of Greek. I know French, German, Spanish and Italian well. I dabble in Russian, Arabic, Gaelic...as well as a few ancient and obscure dialects."
"Interesting." The headmistress absently tapped the desk with her pen. "Do you attribute your affinity for foreign tongues to mere interest and diligence?"
Percy thought a moment. "This may sound very strange..."
"It may shock you how little I find strange, Miss Parker," the headmistress replied.
A lot of things have been said about William Randolph Hearst. He was the inspiration for Orson Welles' Citizen Kane, so that ought to tell you something. He was maniacal, driven, ruthless, and quite a bit shady--and by all appearances, he was also in love with one woman for a huge portion of his life.
William Randolph Hearst
Only problem? That woman was not his wife, Millicent, whom he married in 1903. Whoops.
Marion Davies*
Hearst's long-time "companion" was Marion Davies, a very beautiful show girl and movie star. Hearst and Davies met in 1918, and she was very shortly starring in a movie backed by Hearst money (she'd been in two others already). It was the beginning of a long, long pattern. Hearst so believed in his girlfriend that he backed picture after picture for her, and pushed reviewers at his many newspapers to sing her praises. The bummer is that he probably did more harm than good for Davies. For one thing, he liked her in big, dramatic historical pieces, when her talent was really comedy. Yeah, way to be tuned in to your girl, dude.
Between Davies filming an average of three movies a year, and Hearst's incessant publicity blitzes, they held court at San Simeon, also known as Hearst Castle. It's a 60,000 square foot mansion, yo! 60K! I can't even wrap my head around that, personally. And that's just the main building--including three quest houses it's more than 90 THOUSAND square feet. Fifty-six bedrooms. I don't think I even have 56 pairs of socks.
Hooch flowed freely at San Simeon (but drinking to insensibility was not tolerated), and Davies and Hearst hosted a crush of parties, with the guest lists consisting of a who's-who in Hollywood--Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Jean Harlow. Seen a movie from the 20s or 30s? The actors were probably guests at San Simeon at some point. Marion and Hearst supposedly had a child, Patricia Van Cleve, who was raised as Marion's "niece" for most of her life.
Patricia Van Cleve Lake
Despite his apparent devotion for Davies, Hearst never divorced his wife. He ostensibly considered it at various points, but decided it was "cheaper to keep her." Despite all this drama, the biggest scandal Marion and Hearst were involved in was by far the Thomas Ince Affair. (No, no, I didn't say Thomas Crown Affair!)
Thomas Ince
The details of Thomas Ince's death are clouded in mystery. Here's what's acknowledged as fact: On November 16, 1924, Ince joined Hearst and Davies aboard the yacht, The Oneida. Among the guests were Louella Parsons and Charlie Chaplin. On November 19th, Ince left the Oneida in physical distress.
Marion Davies waving hello to Thomas Ince from the deck of the Oneida.
The official story, put out by Hearst's considerable media empire and concurred with by a District Attorney who interviewed exactly one person, is that Ince left the yacht suffering from acute indigestion and subsequently died of a heart attack. (He did have a history of ulcers and other health issues.)
There seem to be as many unofficial stories as there were mouths on that boat. Hearst caught Davies and Chaplin "in an intimate embrace" (I've always wondered--does that mean kissing, or some bow-chicka-wow-wow?) and Ince was caught in the crossfire when yelling and shouting drew attention. Hearst walked in on Ince and Davies in a dark room and simply assumed the other man was Chaplin. Ince caught a stray bullet that went through a wall.
Did ya notice that in every story where the gunman's identified, it's Hearst? Veeeerrrrrry curious.....
In drama that seems to be unrelated (but it's hard to tell in this mess), Abigail Kinsolving, Davies's secretary, claimed that Ince raped her but made no connection to his later death. Kinsolving had a baby a few months later, and after that died under suspicious circumstances, so it's hard to tell if that's truth or she was grabbing a dead man as a fall guy.
After 85 years, and the deaths of all the major players, it's a sure bet no one will ever truly solve the mystery of Ince's death. The incident didn't seem to affect Davies and Hearst's relationship in any way. They remained involved for more than 30 years, until Hearst's death in 1951. Just ten weeks after his death, Davies finally married someone--Horace Brown, who many said bore a striking resemblance to a younger Hearst.
* The very super gorgeous colorized picture of Marion Davies is courtesy of Kevin Scrantz. I stumbled across his blog, Claroscureaux, when looking for the pictures, and if you're at all interested in old movies you really need to give it a peek. A lot of the colorizations I've seen have been quite garish, but Kevin has a deft touch.
The month's theme of "Scandal" has brought about many delicious stories of notorious women. I thought it might be interesting to look into how a scandalous woman becomes notorious. Especially in the days before mass media.
The Tang Dynasty (618 A.D. - 907 A.D.) was a particularly literate time. Now, by literate that doesn't mean that every peasant and farmer could read and write, but people outside of the highest noble classes studied calligraphy and poetry and read the classics. Empress Wu supported the imperial civil examination system as a way for commoners to elevate themselves in the ranks. You could rise above your station and the way to do it, was through education. Then on top of that, people seemed fascinated with the lives of the imperial family. They were the subjects of painting, sculpture and poetry.
Enter Yang Yuhuan. Consort Yang was arguably the most famous concubine in Chinese history--she's credited with bringing down the Golden Age with her beauty.
She appears as one of the Four Beauties--a very common theme in Chinese artwork. What draws people to Concubine Yang's story is that it starts as a romance and ends so tragically. Emperor Xuanxong sees her bathing in a pool among other palace beauties and he falls madly in love with her. At that time, he's 61 and she's 26.
He installs her in his palace and spends every waking moment by her side. He gives her the title of "Yang Guifei" which means "Precious Consort Yang". The title elevates her to the most highest ranking woman in the court besides the Empress. Then he starts promoting her family members to key positions.
hat's where things go wrong. The early part of Emperor Xuanzong reign is considered the height of the Golden Age. The empire is prosperous and wealthy and the arts flourish. At the later part of his reign, strife and rebellion start to brew. The regional warlords, many who are ethically non-Han, start wresting power from the central imperial government. The empire suffers several disastrous military losses to. The Emperor is criticized for leaving the rule of the empire to corrupt eunuchs and officials. His infatuation for Yang Guifei is an easy target.
This period of unrest culminates in the Anshi rebellion when warlord An Lushan marches on the imperial capital and the Emperor and his consort or forced to flee. But suddenly, the Emperor's guards will go no further. They refuse to protect him unless he orders the death of the one woman blamed for starting the downfall.
The Emperor orders the eunuchs to execute Yang Guifei, the love of his life, then and there, by the side of the road. She's strangled with a horse whip and buried in an unmarked grave.
It is said that Emperor Xuanzong mourned for her for the rest of his life. Once the Anshi rebellion was put down, he abdicated the throne. He tried to return to the roadside and find her grave, but when they opened it, there was nothing left. He died heartbroken.
Consort Yang became notorious in her time because of the prevalence of poetry and propaganda that publicized her relationship with the Emperor. The story of the Emperor's obsession with her became so well known that she became a scapegoat for political events that were out of her control. Perhaps it was easier to blame a beautiful "femme fatale" than a great Emperor for the downfall of the kingdom.
The Tang poet, Bai Juyi (772 - 846 A.D.) immortalized her in "The Song of Everlasting Sorrow". Bai Juyi's poetry as very accessible and immediately popularized the romance and tragedy of Consort Yang and the Emperor.
Scandal by epic poetry!
The secondary character of Lady Ling in my forthcoming debut, BUTTERFLY SWORDS, was inspired by the Consort Yang Yuhuan. Perhaps she'll get her own, happier ending one day.
Imagine--it's 1838, the old king is dead, the new queen acceded to the throne the year before and is about to be crowned in Westminster Abbey in June. The new fashion for all things Gothic and medieval has swept up the rich and the titled, therefore they are all looking forward not only to the coronation in the Abbey, which, no doubt, will be a splendid affair, but also to the ceremony that will follow upon the service: the state banquet in Westminster Hall with its most wonderful medieval trappings. There will even be a real knight in shining armour--the King's, or, in this case, the Queen's Champion, who will ride into the hall on his steed, fling his glove onto the ground and challenge all people present to deny the sovereign's right to the throne. The whole thing will be perfectly marvellous, something to tell the grandchildren about.
But alas, it was not to be.
The Prime Minster announced that for economic--there were people starving, for heaven's sake!--and practical--remember 1685, when the King's Champion had flung not only his glove, but also himself to the ground? Highly embarrassing, that!--reasons the state banquet and all the outdated medieval ceremonies were cancelled. The Tories were incensed. There were heated arguments in the House of Lords, and the merchants of the City of London put together a petition because the City, too, would have played a part in the coronation banquet Yet despite heated arguments, the Prime Minster, Lord Melbourne, stood his ground and Victoria was crowned without medieval pomp and circumstance. The peers of the realm smarted, and those who would have had to fulfil special duties during the state banquet felt cheated. Among them was a dashing, young Scottish lord, Archibald William Montgomerie, the 13th Earl of Eglinton.
He had been brought up with stories of chivalry, and, moreover, as the Knight Marshal of the Royal Household his stepfather would have had the honourable task of leading the Champion's horse up the hall. The family's extreme disappointment at the Queen's "Penny Coronation" can be easily imagined. To cheer Eglinton up, one of his acquaintances jokingly suggested that he should add some medieval games to his next annual private horse race at Eglinton Park. Out of this rather unfortunate suggestion there quickly grew a rumour which spread like wildfire: Lord Eglinton was going to hold a tournament at his country estate in Scotland. Equally unfortunate was Eglinton's decision to finally announce that the rumour was true and to thus embark on what one author has called "the greatest folly of the century."
It was an enormous undertaking--at Eglinton a tournament ground with stalls and galleries and what not had to be erected. The knights had to chosen, armour to be ordered. The rehearsals for the tournament were held in London in June and July 1839. Not surprisingly, all of London was atwitter and the rehearsals were well attended. For some of the spectators they were a disappointment. After all, there is quite a difference between imagining Sir Walter Scott's medieval heroes riding grandly around and about in their shiny armour, and seeing 19th-century gentlemen trying to conquer the difficulties of moving about in full-scale body armour. The Knight of the Swan literally flew over the neck of his horse, and the unfortunate Knight of the Dragon got stuck in his armour, face downwards, on a dunghill. Only after 20 minutes did his squires manage to help him out of this stinky predicament.
Still, applications for tickets from all around the world continued to pour in at Eglinton's estate. Of course, only conservatives needed to apply for a place on the galleries. Lucky was the man who could claim his wife had once nearly clubbed a Radical to death with a candlestick! The press was also invited, and then there were the many uninvited spectators who gathered outside the palisade and whose numbers reached, if contemporary sources are to be believed, 80,000 or more. In short, the Eglinton Tournament provided for the most enormous traffic jam Scotland had seen so far. In the towns and villages surrounding Eglinton Park all available rooms had been let, and to their dismay, many late-comers found that no accommodation was to be had, not even for ready money. Indeed, the American visitor Nathaniel Parker Willis had to shave and freshen himself up in the pantry of an inn, which presently functioned as the bedroom of three ladies' maids.
At the gates of Eglinton Park, maps and programmes could be bought, and the gaily attired masses (naturally, medieval costume was a must) wandered towards the stands. At the house itself the knights and their entourage got ready for the big procession. Everything had been prepared splendidly, and everybody was ready to thoroughly enjoy themselves. But alas, nobody had taken into consideration the contrary British weather. For just as the Queen of Beauty was about to get on her snow-white horse, the skies opened and it started to pour.
Soon everybody who didn't bring an umbrella was drenched, the tilting ground was transformed into mud, and, to make matters worse, it turned out that the makeshift roof that was supposed to protect the people in the galleries, was not up to its job. Neither was the dye of some of the medieval costumes. Nevertheless, the knights attempted to muddle through, and so at first, the tilting commenced.
It was only interrupted when the rain increased. To the dismay of the invited guests in the galleries, Eglinton had to inform them that the pavilion in which the great banquet was to be held had not withstood the rain either and that he could only entertain as many of his friends as to fit around the dining table at the house. The retreat of the thousands of spectators was chaotic, to say the least. Willis describes it thus:
The rain poured in a deluge. The entire park was trodden into a slough, or standing in pools of water – carts, carriages, and horsemen, with fifty thousand flying pedestrians, crowding every road and avenue. How to get home with a carriage! How the deuce to get home without one! [...] Six hours of rain, and the trampling of such an immense multitude of men and horses, had converted the soft and moist sod and soil of the park into a deep and most adhesive quagmire. Glancing through the labyrinth of vehicles on every side, and seeing men and horses with their feet completely sunk below the surface, I saw that there was no possibility of shying the matter, and that wade was the word.
Even if the tournament was eventually held two days later, the damage had been done, and the press, quite literally, had a field day. Poor Eglinton was ridiculed up and down the country, and the image of the knight under the umbrella not only became the symbol of the tournament, but throughout the century it was also used to mock and satirise Victorian medievalism.
Contact Maureen to give her your address. The book must be claimed by next Sunday or another winner will be drawn. Please stop back later to let us know what you thought! Congratulations!
This week we're helping contributor Jean Adams talk about her latest historical romance from Highland Press, ETERNAL HEARTS, which is a time-travel set in ancient Egypt. Here's the blurb:
She found the love of her life, 3000 years too late.
When Alexandra Kelly returns a broadcollar to Egypt she is swept through a time portal on a breathtaking, yet terrifying journey to a land of majesty and splendour, the land of the pharaohs.
Death is Lord Khafra's fate if he embarks upon his dangerous quest. Can Alex's arrival save him from his date with a lonely, fiery death? Together they find love and face terrible danger and hardship but the sexy charioteer could make any woman believe the gods were smiling on her.
But at the next full moon Alex must return to the 21st century and Khafra will have been dead for 3000 years.
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Why did you write this story?
I've been besotted with ancient Egypt ever since I first saw The Ten Commandments. That wasn't what I supposed to see, I know, but since that time I've read anything an everything I could lay my hands on about the ancient Egyptians. I've discovered they are not the villains of the peace they have long been made out to be. Quite the opposite in fact. They were very tolerant and advanced, as far as ancient civilisations could be, and I wanted to help set the record straight.
Did you come up with the title or did the publisher think of it?
The title is mine. The Egyptians believed in eternity long before vampires staked their claim on it (no pun intended). That's why they built those magnificent tombs and pyramids. They were supposed to last to the end of time--into eternity.
What is the story about?
Alexis Kelly, falls through a time portal and goes back to ancient Thebes. Lord Khafra, the hero, finds her and takes her home. She must stay three-and-a-half years in the past for month, until the moon shifts round to full again. During that time she encounters a near-death experience, and takes part in the greatest house move in history--when Akheneten moved the then capital, Thebes, to Ahketaten. Alex journeys down the Nile on his luxurious barge to the desert wasteland that will be her new home. Matters get worse when Khafra is arrested for treason against the king. But time is running short and Lord Khafra must escape to get her back to the 21st century so he can clear his name.
Why made you choose the time of Akhenaten and Nefertiti?
I had two choices. That dynasty or another, about a thousand years into Egypt's future. I procrastinated for about two years trying to decide which time period to go for. I finally realised that this was a very exciting and colorful time in Egypt's history, and was a story that people would probably recognise, so I opted for 1300 BC. Once I made my decision thankfully, it worked. I started writing and the story it fairly flew off my fingers. It didn't take long to get the first draft done.
How much research did you have to do?
Thankfully, not too much because I'd read many books and websites already but I kept checking my facts. We will never know some of the small, personal details, so I used romance writer's licence there. One of the things I had to cut out of the book includes the original Egyptian version of the Cinderella story. And I'm sure that Nofret and Rahotep would be happy to know they are still married three-and-a-half thousand years later. True eternal hearts.
What's next for Jean Adams?
I'm developing a trilogy set in ancient Egypt, not time travel this time, but I've just had to take a full time job after my business went belly up, so it will probably take longer than I'd hoped!
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Thanks for stopping by, Jean! Leave a comment or question for Jean to be entered in a drawing for a copy of ETERNAL HEARTS, which will be available from Highland Press very soon. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!
By Elizabeth Lane
That spring, Tabor grubstaked a pair of sorry-looking miners named August Rische and George Hook. They didn't seem to know much about prospecting, but the two of them wandered into the hills and, by chance, dug into a vein of pure silver. Their Little Pittsburgh Mine yielded $20,000 a week. Haw Tabor's $60 investment earned him $2 million in the first year alone without getting his hands dirty. In short order he became mayor of boomtown Leadville and lieutenant governor of Colorado. Augusta, unable to adjust to her husband's meteoric rise, became more and more reclusive.
That was the end of Tabor's political career. Although he and Baby Doe lived well for a time, and he attempted to run for governor and senator, public opinion had turned against him.
It was an enormous undertaking--at Eglinton a tournament ground with stalls and galleries and what not had to be erected. The knights had to chosen, armour to be ordered. The rehearsals for the tournament were held in London in June and July 1839. Not surprisingly, all of London was atwitter and the rehearsals were well attended. For some of the spectators they were a disappointment. After all, there is quite a difference between imagining Sir Walter Scott's medieval heroes riding grandly around and about in their shiny armour, and seeing 19th-century gentlemen trying to conquer the difficulties of moving about in full-scale body armour. The Knight of the Swan literally flew over the neck of his horse, and the unfortunate Knight of the Dragon got stuck in his armour, face downwards, on a dunghill. Only after 20 minutes did his squires manage to help him out of this stinky predicament.
