Money Matters: Taxes and How To Avoid Them

By Anita Davison

In the 16th century, Bristol was famous for wine smuggling from France and the Mediterranean: according to some reports only half the wine landed there paid duty, and the customs officers pocketed a £30 bribe for each ship that landed. It appears that the income from this illegal source was not fairly divided: when a clerk threatened to inform on his superiors, he spent 18 months in prison on a trumped-up charge of debt, and even when he reported the illicit dealings, no action was taken.

During the English Civil War, a new tax on domestic consumption, excise, was levied by Parliament to pay for the war. By 1660, this applied to items like chocolate, coffee, tea, beer, cider and spirits. Then in 1688 it was progressively widened to include essentials such as salt, leather, and soap.

Collecting taxes was a cumbersome and inefficient process with a hostile population where communication and transport links were slow and inefficient, so whole communities tended to become involved in the 'free-trade', as it was euphemistically known. The farm labourer helped carry goods inland; the parson bought cheap tea and wine; the local squire lent his horses for transport; the wealthy merchant obtained cut-price supplies of silks and lace; and at the very pinnacle of society, members of the gentry conducted foreign business through intermediaries involved in smuggling.

Attention in the 17th century focused on the tobacco trade with Bermuda and Virginia, from which the Bristol Customs authorities were quick to profit. William Culliford investigated the port in the 1680s, and found a rat's nest of fraudulent officials. The only tide-waiter considered to be honest was blind!

The standard way to smuggle goods in was for the ship's master to keep two sets of accounts. One showed the true cargo: this was for the benefit of its owners. A second set of books was presented to the customs authorities with a nod and a wink. One example was a ship called the Bristol Merchant, which docked with 9¼ tons of tobacco on board. It cost the crew £80 to get the customs officials to turn a blind eye, but this was less than half what they saved in duty. Pay-offs took place at Mother Grindham's Coffee House on Bristol quayside.

Houses in known smugglers haunts in the West Country set a bottle bottom in the plaster below a gable end of the house to indicate the owners were smugger sympathisers.

Whilst searching for a character to include in my latest wip, I came across a famous smuggler in the West Country during the 17th century named Thomas Coumbe, known as The Smuggler Squire. Born in Devon in 1620, he married a tall, auburn haired beauty named Bridget, who was much younger than himself and reputed to be a descendant of Sir Ralph de Blanchminster, a Cornish Knight who followed Richard Coeur de Lion on the Third Crusade.

Thomas Coumbe became a church warden in 1666, subsequently gaining great wealth from his association with the smugglers at Bude. His chief entry points for smuggling were Bude and Widemouth on the North Devon coast, at a spot from which signal flares from Widemouth Bay or Bude Haven could be seen by the smugglers at sea.

At a time when sand was used to break up the heavy loam of Devon before the employment of artificial manures, the Smuggling Squire made a weekly trip between Tavistock and Exeter on his sand cart, in which he hid tobacco, silk, brandy and wine.

According to old deeds, he owned land from "Sea to Sea", i.e. from Exeter on the South Devon coast to Bude on the north, a distance of 53 miles. He had a number of illegitimate children, to whom no doubt some of the farms were bequeathed. How could I resist adding this colourful character to my story?

A brown, hard, stern looking man with one blue eye, over the other he wore a patch having lost an eye in a duel, and regularly dressed in leather with a bob wig.

Some sections of this article were taken from: Smuggler's Britain by Richard Platt

Anita Davison is an historical fiction author with a love of 17th century England. DUKING DAYS: REBELLION was released in 2007 and the sequel, DUKING DAYS: REVOLUTION in 2008. TRENCARROW SECRET, a Victorian Gothic romance, will be released in June 2011 by MuseItUp Publishing.

The Entertainers: Women in Restoration Theater

Anna C. Bowling

Come with me on a trip to London, 1660. With the return of Charles II to the throne, England has undergone amazing changes, and one of the most notable is the reopening of theaters per the king’s edict in August of this year. The late Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, clamped down on frivolous forms of entertainment, so it’s been a while since actors could perform in the open. Certainly, some small companies of traveling entertainers risked the stiff penalties to perform secretly in private homes before small audiences, but a real stage with professional actors? That hasn’t been possible for quite some time.

Now it’s back. Charles II, dubbed the merry monarch, loves a good time and his fondness for theater has rejuvenated the art form in England. The air buzzes with excitement as we enter the theater. Pretty girls mill about with baskets of oranges, selling the exotic fruit and possibly other wares in some cases.

Some older patrons reminisce about the theaters of their youth. Oh, those were glorious days, when richly costumed players trod the boards and fantastical sets showed off the true genius of theatrical art. Another patron grumbles; they’ve been dragged here by others and aren’t at all sure that reopening the theaters isn’t flinging open wide the doors of depravity. Others express curiosity. Will this English audience be able to understand a play with all the European influences the king is reputed to have a taste for after his time abroad?

With the show about to begin, we take our seats on the long wooden benches. Two young men take the stage, in the rich dress of the cavaliers. Long, curling hair spills over the shoulders of both their coats, their heads topped with wide-brimmed hats decorated with brightly colored plumes. Arm in arm, the amble across the boards, looking furtively about as though searching for pursuers. A hush falls over the crowd as the magic of the story takes hold. The slighter of the two sweeps off his hat, expounds on the warmth of the noonday sun and then doffs his…what…no, her coat. She stretches and speaks in her natural voice and there is no doubt that this actor is in fact a woman.

A woman? On the stage? One of the older audience members complains that in his day, female parts were played by pretty boys and that’s the way decent theater should be. The grumbler points this out as certainty that this is a plot to crumble the moral fire of England; no decent woman would take to the stage. This is nothing more, they insist, than a platform for a strumpet to parade her wares. Others shush the objectors, more interested in the story than any damages to the country’s moral future. Some of the male audience members do seem especially fixated on the assets of the woman on stage, and it is possible one or more of them may seek her company after the show closes.

We watch the performance to its conclusion, and leave discussing when we might see such a spectacle again. What we’ve seen is nothing like we have experienced before, and we speculate over what may come next. We return for more performances as we can over the years, paying for the cheapest seats we can get. We see more women perform and laugh over the popularity of casting young women in breeches roles. It took this long to get women on the stage, and now they are expected to play men? Ah, but that does show their legs off to excellent advantage, and if it worked well enough for Nell Gwynne to catch the eye of the king himself, who are we to argue? Only ten years after the opening of the theaters, the first female playwright, Aphra Behn, stages her play, The Forced Marriage, ushering in yet another new day for the world of entertainment. On with the show.

Writing historical romances allows Anna C. Bowling to travel through time on a daily basis and make the voices in her head pay rent. Her current release, ORPHANS IN THE STORM, is available from Awe-Struck E-books.

Guest Author: Gillian Bagwell

This week on Unusual Historicals we're welcoming Berkley author Gillian Bagwell as she celebrates the release of her historical fiction debut, THE DARLING STRUMPET, set in Restoration Era England. Based on the life of Nell Gwynn, THE DARLING STRUMPET tells the story of her rise from the streets to become one of London's most beloved actresses and the life-long mistress of King Charles II. Check out below how you can win a copy!

From London's slums to its bawdy playhouses, THE DARLING STRUMPET transports the reader to the tumultuous world of seventeenth-century England, charting the meteoric rise of the dazzling Nell Gwynn, who captivates the heart of King Charles II-and becomes one of the century's most famous courtesans.

Witty and beautiful, Nell was born into poverty but is drawn into the enthralling world of the theater, where her saucy humor and sensuous charm earn her a place in the King's Company. As one of the first actresses in the newly-opened playhouses, she catapults to fame, winning the affection of legions of fans--and the heart of the most powerful man in all of England, the King himself. Surrendering herself to Charles, Nell will be forced to maneuver the ruthless and shifting allegiances of the royal court--and discover a world of decadence and passion she never imagined possible.

***

"Richly engaging portrait of the life and times of one of history's most appealing characters!" ~ Diana Gabaldon, author of the best-selling Outlander series

"Hard to resist this sort of seduction--a Nell Gwynn who pleasures the crowds upon the stages of London and the noblest men of England in their bedrooms. A vivid portrait of an age that makes our own seem prudish, told with verve, humour, pathos...and not a little eroticism." ~ C.C. Humphreys, actor and author of Jack Absolute

***

Are any of the houses where Nell lived or the theatres where she performed still there?

Sadly, none of her haunts in London are still standing, but the layout of the streets hasn't changed significantly in much of central London, and it is possible to figure out more or less where some of the old places were. No one knows exactly where she was born, but it was likely in what was then the maze of slums around Covent Garden, and her early life didn't take her far from there.

Lewkenor's Lane, the site of Madam Ross's brothel, is now Macklin Street (above), just off the north end of Drury Lane. The Cat & Fiddle and Cock & Pie taverns and inns were near the south end of Drury Lane. The Maypole in the Strand stood just about in front of the church of St. Mary Le Strand (left), which is still there, and Maypole Alley, which led to Drury Lane, would have passed through approximately the location of Bush House, which used to house the BBC and still houses some parts of it, I believe. Of course the present Theatre Royal in Drury Lane is in the same spot as the theatre Nell acted in but it's about the third building on the site.

Before Nell began acting, the King's Company and Duke's Company were both performing in converted tennis courts just off Lincoln's Inn Fields. The location of the Duke's Company theatre is at the back of what is now the Royal College of Surgeons, in a space that, at least as of the summer of 2008, was let to the London School of Economics. In fact, oddly, the LSE was occupying several places that were the sites of old theatres. Nell had a house in Newman's Row, in the northeast corner of Lincoln's Inn Fields. The passage is still there, and the square not too much changed from her days, though the house is gone.

There is a blue plaque historical market on the house at 79 Pall Mall, which is where Nell lived from about 1671 to the end of her life, but that, too, is a different building. The Banqueting House is all that remains of Whitehall Palace, but Nell certainly knew that building. By comparing old maps with contemporary maps and the layout of the ground, I've come to the conclusion that Charles II's bedroom, the site of so much intrigue, was probably right about at the location of the statue that stands behind the Ministry of Defense, just off the river.

There's a building in Windsor that is allegedly where Nell stayed sometimes, and, very incongruously, it now houses a Chinese restaurant. Burford House, which Charles gave her, is still on the grounds of Windsor Castle, but has been much altered from her time.

How many of the characters in your book are real and how many are imaginary?

Most of the major characters and quite a lot of the minor ones are real people that Nell would have known. All the actors that she watches, learns from, and plays with are based on real actors, and the stage roles they play in the book are mostly the roles those actors actually performed. Orange Moll, who had the concession to sell oranges and sweetmeats in the theatre, is real, as is the rope dancer Jacob Hall, who really did become the lover of the Duchess of Castlemaine for a while. The old sailor Dicky One-Shank, who works as a stagehand, is fictitious, but there were sailors who worked in theatres--both jobs required some of the same knowledge of rigging, hauling canvas, and so on--and Nell surely knew some of them.

How did you recreate Nell's performances, or even know what plays she acted in?

Thanks to Samuel Pepys's diary, we have some glimpses into events at the playhouse, and Nell's performances. She didn't like serious roles, and she wasn't very good in them. More than once Pepys complains about her ruining a show with her performance. But he couldn't get enough of her when she was in a comic role, and the playwrights took advantage of that and wrote great parts for her, including many that had her playing opposite her lover Charles Hart. They became the Myrna Loy and William Powell of the 1660s, playing witty bantering couples who spar and jab and have a lot of humor and sexual chemistry.

Your second book, THE SEPTEMBER QUEEN, coming next November, also involves Charles II, but at a much earlier period of his life. How did that come about?

In the course of researching THE DARLING STRUMPET, I learned about Charles's escape after the disastrous Battle of Worcester in 1651, and how a girl named Jane Lane risked her life to help him by disguising him as her servant and riding behind him on horseback so he could get to the coast where he could find a boat that would take him to safety in France. It was an enormously important and formative period for Charles, and he told the story to anyone who would listen for the rest of his life.

I couldn't get into much depth about these events without slowing the story down, and with regret, I just had Charles say, "That's a story for another time." When my agent asked what I was going to write next, and I was casting around for ideas, I remembered Jane Lane. My agent loved the idea too, and we were both astonished and delighted to discover that apparently no one had ever written a novel about the really unbelievable story of her journey with Charles.

***

Thanks so much for stopping by today, Gillian, and best of luck with your debut! Readers, if you'd like the chance to win a copy of THE DARLING STRUMPET, answer this: What is it about the Cinderella/commoner-to-royalty idea that remains so timeless in history, legend and romance? Is it a trope you enjoy? I'll draw a winner at random next Sunday. Void where prohibited. Best of luck!

Excerpt Thursday: Gillian Bagwell

This week on Excerpt Thursday we're welcoming Berkley author Gillian Bagwell as she celebrates the release of her historical fiction debut, THE DARLING STRUMPET, set in Restoration Era England. Based on the life of Nell Gwynn, THE DARLING STRUMPET tells the story of her rise from the streets to become one of London's most beloved actresses and the life-long mistress of King Charles II. Join us Sunday when Gillian will be here to answer questions and give away a copy!

From London's slums to its bawdy playhouses, THE DARLING STRUMPET transports the reader to the tumultuous world of seventeenth-century England, charting the meteoric rise of the dazzling Nell Gwynn, who captivates the heart of King Charles II-and becomes one of the century's most famous courtesans.

Witty and beautiful, Nell was born into poverty but is drawn into the enthralling world of the theater, where her saucy humor and sensuous charm earn her a place in the King's Company. As one of the first actresses in the newly-opened playhouses, she catapults to fame, winning the affection of legions of fans--and the heart of the most powerful man in all of England, the King himself. Surrendering herself to Charles, Nell will be forced to maneuver the ruthless and shifting allegiances of the royal court--and discover a world of decadence and passion she never imagined possible.

***

Nell's first impression of the King's privy chamber was that it was like a chessboard filled with clocks. The floor was in squares of black and white marble, and a row of timepieces stood along the shining black mantle atop the enormous fireplace. Others dotted tables and shelves, and a tall case clock emitted a steady tock. The vast bed was surmounted by a canopy with great eagles above it, its curtains supported by cherubs that appeared to be in flight toward the elaborately painted ceiling high above. Paintings in heavy gold frames were mounted on the walls. The life-sized portraits of ladies and gentlemen in stiff finery seemed to Nell to look down on her as she passed.

It took Nell a moment to spot the King. He was seated at a writing desk, his back to the door, evidently engrossed in whatever he was studying. Three spaniels lay curled near his feet, and they lifted their heads to regard the visitors.

"Your Majesty," Buckingham began, but as he spoke, the tall clock began to tell the hour with a series of deep bongs. Another clock sounded, and then, as if they had been caught napping and were guiltily snapping to their work, the others chimed in one by one on their own notes and rhythms, creating a cacophonous jangle.

"George." The King stood and came smiling toward them, embraced Buckingham, and turned to Nell as the last of the bells faded to silence, pulling her up from her curtsy.

"Mistress Nelly. May I call you Nelly? I always think of you like that, you know, and calling you anything else would seem amiss."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Nell dimpled at him, pleased beyond measure that he "always" thought of her in any way at all.

"I've just been looking at Wren's plans for some of the new churches – come see." The King led them toward the desk, where a large drawing was unfurled.

"St. Paul's," he said. "Is it not splendid?"

"Magnificent," Buckingham agreed. "But what about some wine?"

Charles laughed. "Of course. Forgive me, Nelly, for being such a poor host. Faith, you grow more beautiful each time I see you."

"If it be so, Your Majesty, then I hope that you shall see me frequently, so that both of us may benefit," Nell laughed.

"And witty as well," Charles said over Nell's head to Buckingham. "Pretty, witty Nell."

Save for the servant who brought in the food and poured the wine, and the dogs, the three of them were alone. Charles and Buckingham were in jovial spirits, and chaffed with each other like the brothers they almost were.

They lingered over wine and sweetmeats, but as the clocks set up their clamor on the hour of ten, Buckingham declared that it was time for him to be gone.

"And you, Nelly?" asked Charles. "Must you run away? Or will you stay to keep me company a little while yet?"

"Gladly, sir," Nell said, "If it will give you pleasure."

Buckingham's footsteps faded, and Nell felt momentarily awkward – what should she do or say? But Charles poured more wine, silently raised his glass to her with a smile, and she felt at ease.

He pulled a morsel of meat from the pullet carcass on the table and held it out to one of his spaniels, who wolfed it down. Nell laughed as the dog licked its chops and cocked its head expectantly, clearly hoping for more. Charles gently pulled one of the dog's ears and scratched it under the chin.

"I had one of these beasts with me in France," he said. "Sometimes I thought he was my only true friend in the world."

"I have never had a dog, Your Majesty, but have often wondered if I had a true friend. He must have been a comfort to you."

Charles leaned forward and brushed a tendril of hair from Nell's cheek, letting his hand trail down her face, her throat, her breast. Nell felt a twinge in her belly – the involuntary contraction of arousal. She had fully expected the king to bed her. She had not expected to desire him as intensely as she suddenly found she did.

Men: George Villiers

By Anita Davison

George and Francis Villiers by Van Dyck

The son of the murdered 1st Duke, the 2nd Duke of Buckingham is often judged as ostentatious, licentious, and unscrupulous, but even his critics agreed he was also good-humoured, good-natured, generous, an unsurpassed mimic, and the leader of fashion. His good looks and wit made him irresistible to his contemporaries, in spite of his lack of morality, and even his crimes. John Reresby called him "the first gentleman of person and wit I think I ever saw," and Dean Lockier, after alluding to his unrivalled skill in riding, dancing and fencing, added, "When he came into the presence-chamber it was impossible for you not to follow him with your eye as he went along, he moved so gracefully." According to Gilbert Burnet, "He gave himself up, to a monstrous course of studied immoralities."


When their father was murdered by John Felton, George was only seven and his brother Francis, two years younger. Under the care of the Earl of Northumberland, their early childhood was spent in Florence and Rome. At fourteen, George attended Trinity College, Cambridge, where he obtained the degree of Master of Arts. When the Second Civil War broke out, the Villiers boys joined Henry Rich, 1st Earl of Holland in Surrey. Francis was killed near Kingston-upon-Thames, at the age of twenty. Buckingham escaped to the Netherlands and joined Charles II in exile, while his lands were confiscated and given to Thomas, Lord Fairfax.

Buckingham was given the Order of the Garter (KG) and admitted to the Privy Council by Charles II. A sworn enemy of Edward Hyde, Buckingham supported the alliance with the Scottish Presbyterians and accompanied Charles to Scotland in June 1650. Allying himself with the Marquess of Argyll, he fought at the Battle of Worcester in September 1651, and escaped the field to arrive in Rotterdam and re-joined Charles II in exile.

A fervent supporter of religious toleration, Buckingham's negotiations with Oliver Cromwell's government, and his readiness to sacrifice the interests of the church, separated him from the rest of Charles's advisers. This estrangement was compounded by his audacious courtship of the king's widowed sister Mary, Princess of Orange, and by a money dispute with Charles.

Tired of exile and determined to regain his estates, Buckingham argued with Charles II and returned to England and went to court Lord Fairfax. Uneasy with certain Protestant excesses, Fairfax hadn't supported Charles I's execution, and the retired general quickly became a friend of the handsome, and charming Buckingham. Whether by accident or design, knowing Buckingham it was probably the latter, the general's daughter, Mary, fell in love with him although the banns of her intended marriage with the Earl of Chesterfield had been twice called in church. They were married at the Fairfax estate in Yorkshire and as a wedding gift, Lord Fairfax signed the two Villiers properties back to his son-in-law.

When news of the wedding reached London, the Lord Protector was furious. Suspicious that Buckingham might be secretly working with royalists to undermine the republic, Cromwell saw the marriage as a potentially treasonous alliance with the power to turn the army against him. Buckingham was arrested and held at York House, from where he escaped. Re-arrested, he was imprisoned in the Tower of London, and again his properties confiscated.

Buckingham lived for months with a traitor's death of being hanged, drawn and quartered hanging over him, but in 1658, Cromwell fell ill. Through the window of his cell in September, Buckingham heard the cannons boom to announce the dictator's death. He wrote later: "If Oliver had lived for three more days, I would surely have been put to death."

Freed in February 1659 on Fairfax's security of £20,000, having promised not to assist the enemies of the government, Buckingham joined Fairfax in his march against General John Lambert in January 1660, and claimed to have persuaded Fairfax to the cause of the Restoration.

In May 1660, King Charles II was restored to his throne. Theaters and inns opened again. Boys were allowed to play football on Sunday, and Charles legalized horse racing in the first week of his reign. Meeting him at Dover, the king received Buckingham coldly for his desertion, but the Villiers charm soon did its work, and he was appointed a Gentleman of the Bedchamber, made him a member of the Privy Council a year later, and George carried the Sovereign's Orb at the coronation on 23 April 1661. He accompanied Princess Henrietta Anne to Paris to marry the Duke of Orleans, but made such shameless advances to her, that he was recalled. Admitted to the Privy Council, Buckingham’s confiscated estates, amounting to £26,000 a year, were restored to him, and he was said to be the king's richest subject.

An advocate of religious tolerance, George was horrified by the trend of Catholics being barred from public office. As a Freemason, he had progressive views on most issues, and contempt for the established church. But he was sympathetic to the Quakers, who were being imprisoned, tortured and hung for their refusal to conform to Anglican demands. William Penn was a fellow Yorkshireman and friend of George's.

For about 15 years, Charles II was attended by the 'Merrie Gang,' a posse of young nobles and gentry, many of whom were clearly gay or bisexual. Naturally their leader was Buckingham, who according to Rousseau, "The king himself was accused of engaging in overt 'sodomitical liaisons' with the Duke of Buckingham."

The permissive atmosphere of Restoration high society meant that George made no secret of his liking for both men and women. From childhood he would have been aware of his father's relationship with King James I. Sodomy laws were still on the books in England, but Restoration liberality had reduced punishment from death to a day in the stocks.

Being an amateur playwright, George often dallied with actors--and rumours spread that he was intimate with young Edward Kynaston, famed for playing female roles. Playwright George Etheredge. Known as "Gentle George" to his friends, ('gentle' was a euphemism for gay in the Restoration court), Etheredge was fair-haired and slender, beautifully dressed, and wrote some of the era’s most sparkling comedy. Buckingham mentioned Etheredge in a poem, saying that Apollo had his eye on gentle George--an allusion to the Greek god's fondness for handsome mortal men.

Yet another "gentle" favorite was poet Abraham Cowley, with whom Buckingham was a student at Cambridge. It was said that Cowley never spoke a word of love to a woman in his life. Many conventional biographies of Buckingham refrain from mentioning that he was bisexual, but historian Howard Love says flatly in his English Clandestine Satire, 1660-1702, that Buckingham "was a bisexual rake who was prosecuted for sodomy."

George's closest cohort was another civil war hero, John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, who was known to write witty gay erotica and was clearly bisexual. According to Wilmot, the ‘Merrie Gang’ rose at ten, breakfasted at two, and were drunk by five. Wilmot once admitted to being drunk for five years. Their drink of choice was imported wine spiked with opium--which was making its debut in England thanks to trade with China. On occasion, George had dinner at 2 AM, washed down with a French drink he had introduced to English high society, called champagne. While drunk, Villiers and Wilmot loved to disguise themselves, and pull off mad escapades and practical jokes.

With most of his pre-war property retrieved, and a vast income, George lived well. In 1666, he built a vast mansion at Cliveden on the Thames where he installed his mistress, the Countess of Shrewsbury. This affair with Anna Maria Brudenell, led to a duel with her husband at Barn Elms in January 1668 that turned into a massacre with two deaths and several injuries. It was rumoured, but unsubstantiated, that the Countess of Shrewsbury held her lover's horse, in the dress of a page during the duel. The Earl of Shrewsbury was fatally wounded, and subsequently, Buckingham provoked an outrage when he installed the "widow of his own creation" in his own and his wife's house.

Pepys’ reference to this 'duell,' says,

....it was all 'about my Lady Shrewsbury, at that time, and for a great while before, a mistress to the Duke of Buckingham; and so her husband challenged him, and they met; and my Lord Shrewsbury was run through the body, from the right breast through the shoulder; and Sir John Talbot all along up one of his arms; and Jenkins killed upon the place, and the rest all in a little measure wounded.'

George was not the only sexual nonconformist in his family. Mary Villiers, his sister, was an influential writer and early feminist, who kept the court buzzing with gossip about her swordsmanship, duelling, fondness for men’s clothes, and the erotic lesbian tinges in her poetry.

When the 'Merrie Gang' weren't getting high, drinking and womanising, they raced horses. Charles' grandfather, the gay King James I, had first developed a court and racecourse at Newmarket. Charles II built a huge stable there so racers could board horses there--"the oldest training establishment in the world,"* In 1665 the king established the Newmarket Town Plate, an annual race over a 4-mile course, in several heats, the first race run under written rules. Riders had to be a gentleman. Each horse to carry 12 stone (168 pounds). No whipping each other by the riders. No cruelty to the horses. The first horse to win three heats was the victor. Wagering on all races reached preposterous levels, so King Charles II, alarmed by bankruptcies of titled bettors, issued a royal decree limiting the size of bets. On Sunday evenings, Buckingham would often entertain the court with what he called a 'sermon'--a bawdy stand-up comedy monologue that had their audience screaming with laughter.

Well into the 1670s, the 'Merrie Gang' continued, until Buckingham was devastated by the death of Abraham Cowley in 1667, and by 1679, the Earl of Rochester was fading horribly from the effects of alcoholism and venereal disease, and died in 1680.

Years of abuse left Buckingham with rheumatism, liver problems, and his sex life became a national issue. The Earl of Clarendon took the position that George was a godless monster. Parliament debate was noisy and at one point, Buckingham fought with another peer and they yanked off each other's wigs. Both were thrown in the Tower to cool off.

In 1667 Clarendon got George disbarred from the Privy Council, but Buckingham fought back with icy ruthlessness, and engineered the Earl’s downfall. Arrested and dismissed from all his offices, Buckingham evaded capture but he gave himself up and was imprisoned in the Tower. Restored to favour and his appointments three months later, Buckingham took an active part in the prosecution of Clarendon. When Clarendon fell, he became the chief minister, even though he had previously held no high office except that of Master of the Horse, bought from the Duke of Albermarle in 1668.

Buckingham was accused of: the instigation of the idea of a divorce from Queen Catherine of Braganza for her childlessness, plotting against James, Duke of York, the Duke of Ormonde, and Sir William Coventry--whose fall Buckingham procured by provoking him to send him a challenge to a duel.

Through it all, King Charles stayed supportive, and re-appointed George to high office in 1670. But in 1674, Buckingham was openly attacked in Parliament over his relationship with Lady Shrewsbury. In the Lords, the trustees of the young Earl of Shrewsbury complained that Buckingham publicly continued his affair with the Countess, and that a son of theirs had been buried in Westminster Abbey with the title of Earl of Coventry; Buckingham and the countess were required to apologize and give security for £10,000 not to cohabit together again.

By 1678, England veered into panic over Titus Oates and the "Popish plot." Half the country was sure that Catholic enemies were planning the King’s murder and the downfall of government. A series of ludicrous state trials resulted in some public executions of innocent men caught up in the hysteria. Buckingham's enemies tried to implicate him in the conspiracy, charging that he had engaged in sodomy with a young conspirator named Philip Le Mar. Buckingham was put through a state trial by Parliament, spent more time in the Tower, and defended himself with savage wit. Eventually charges were dropped. On May 21, 1680, George was freed from the Tower for the last time.

In 1681, at age 53, Villiers left public life in disgust. He paid off some of his debts by selling Cliveden and other properties. But he held onto Helmsley, in Yorkshire, making it his home for the first time. Income from tenant farmers provided some cash flow, and his old retainers stayed loyal, so under the shadow of the half-ruined castle, he and Mary lived a recluse life in the antiquated manor house.

The once-athletic, handsome cavalier was now a hefty country squire with a few wooden teeth, chugging ale with other squires at the Cock and Bottle Inn. He founded the Bilsdale Hunt, put together the first pack of hounds, and went fox-hunting with his new cronies. The odd mistress still came and went from Helmsley, along with a boyfriend or two, including George Etheredge. Finally his long-suffering wife Mary moved out.

In February 1685, King Charles died, and in April 1687, while the aging Duke was out hunting, he fell ill or had a riding accident-accounts vary. Carried to the home of a tenant in Kirkbymoorside, six miles from Helmsley, he lingered for several days until on April 16, George Villiers died. He was 59.

Buckingham was buried on 7 June 1687 in Henry VII's chapel in Westminster Abbey, with greater splendour than the late king. After his death, all his property, which had been deeply mortgaged, was sold, and did not realize sufficient to pay his debts. George and Mary had no children, so his titles became extinct. The family line continued through the 1st Duke's siblings. The Villiers' most famous descendent is Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales, whose ancestry goes back to the Duke of Grafton, Charles II's illegitimate son with George's cousin Barbara Villiers.

* Newmarket historian John Sutton.

Thursday Excerpt: Anna C. Bowling

This Sunday, we'll be helping Anna C. Bowling celebrate the release of her newest romance from Awe-Struck, ORPHANS IN THE STORM. Until Sunday, enjoy this excerpt!

The Hidden Countess:
A black robe brought Jonnet Killey to the Isle of Man and a black robe would take her away to the noble English family she has never known.

The King's Man:
All Simon Burke wants is to carry out his mission to return Jonnet to her birth mother and secure the funds to help finance Charles Stuart's return to British soil.

An Adventure in Exile:
A new life awaits Jonnet, with a mother on the brink of madness and a treacherous uncle who will stop at nothing to keep Jonnet's inheritance to himself. While the end of exile nears, danger mounts. Can Simon and Jonnet depend on their new found love to sustain them while the storm of treachery rages around them?

***

At sea, en route to the Netherlands
1659

Simon advanced on the plaid-swathed bundle of woman that stood at the rail, still and stalwart. "We have a cloak for you below." He bit back the rest. Jacoba Albyn had sent a fine cloak, a lady's cloak, but Jonnet never wore it. Dark brown woolen with enough fur trim that it might belong to a respectable merchant's wife. There were dozens, hundreds of such cloaks in Breda, or England, or all the world. It was a world in which a blanket of bright yellows and blues was a good as a bonfire. Yet no seamstress or furrier could dress Jonnet in something as fine as that blanket looked now.

"I know." The wind tugged stray wisps of reddish gold about her face. Her knuckles grew white where she clutched the edges of her wrap together. "I wanted to be Jonnet one more time."

"You will always be Jonnet."

The eyes she turned on him were wide and mournful as a scolded dog. "No. It is Easter Hastings who must step off this ship. Easter Hastings who will be welcomed with open arms. Easter Hastings who will fetch a fine purse from Englishmen loyal and true. God bless Easter Hastings, for I do not know who she is."

Simon folded her into his arms and felt her tremble. Her whole body shook as she fit her head into the space between his shoulder and chin. "You will always be Jonnet to me." In that moment, he knew it to be true. "As generous as your," he could no longer say mother, "Lady Albyn has been, no matter how good a teacher Eben may be, nobody can change the way God made you." Nor would I wish it. The shaking lessened as he spoke, so he continued. "My wild Manx Jonnet, tart-tongued and stubborn and strong." And beautiful. So very beautiful.

Jonnet braced both hands on the front of his coat before she pulled back. "But that is not what she will pay for. If I could talk to her the way I talk to you, I could bear that. I fear we will have nothing in common. Mother Mawd and I knew," small white teeth bit down into her lower lip. "Know each other. We have a history. With Lady Albyn," she sounded out the name as she often did, as though making sure she had it right. "All I have is this." She drew the small leather volume from the folds of her blanket.

"You've read more." The ribbon marker was nearly at the end now. She held it like an offering he was loathe to take, and yet he did. His hand brushed against hers, fingertips on knuckle for a heartbeat longer than needed. Her hand was as chilled as the air, but the pulse beneath the skin was steady. "Worry solves nothing."

"Action. I know. What action do I take next? What if she turns me away because I am not what she wanted? My feet are hard and my skin is brown and I would not know her if I passed her on the street. I would go home if I could, now, today." Jonnet shut her eyes, lashes wet against her cheeks.

Simon swallowed. She could, if she wanted. What man could refuse a request from those eyes, that lilt of her voice? As for coin, she had a name to barter now, and enough of noble ways to give at least an illusion of means. "Will you?" Father God, make her say no.

She took in a ragged breath and met his gaze. "I cannot. Something in me has changed. I have to do this. She is in here. The woman who bore me is in here, and whatever else she may be, she is a mother. If I had a chance," she broke off, took in a sharp breath. "A chance to bring one of Mother Mawd's babes back to her for one day, for her to hold them one more time, I could not deny her that."

"And so you will give that to Lady Albyn?"

Her nod was his only answer.

He looked over her head at the line of tall, slender houses coming into view. "We have a few days before that. You'll meet my sisters first, and my mother." And father, but she would not be there for that. Nor would he be there for what followed. A month ago, even a week, the thought would not have troubled him, and now would it not be the same as leaving one of his own hands? He shut off the thought. Any more down that road, and he would not sleep a minute until well into summer.

The mission was still the same, deliver the woman, collect the money, bring it to Charles Stuart. Only the man to carry it out had changed. I will be back as soon as I can, he wanted to tell her, but he could not give a word that might be broken before it even left his tongue. This was for England, and none of their lives were their own to give. "You will be all anyone could ask for," he managed instead.

Jonnet rewarded him with a tremulous smile. She dashed the back of her hand across her eyes that were now rimmed with red. "Will you promise to remind me who I am if I start to forget? If Easter Hastings must live, will you help me make sure Jonnet Killey doesn't fade away?"

The answer sprang so readily that it was a mere breath before Simon covered Jonnet's mouth with his own. "Always."

Families & Children: Fathers in 1600s England

By Christine Koehler

It's hard to describe everyday life in a time period considered 'unusual.' Books aren't devoted to children and families of, say, the Restoration--they're devoted to Charles II and his court and their antics.

Patriarchy was incredibly important, so much so that the husband/father was despotic in nature. His word was law and there were no exceptions. Laws were enacted to this effect, while kinship ties weakened to the point where it was the nuclear family only. Children were considered submissive and molded to their father’s interests.

Of course, this wasn't new. But now that everyone believed it to be so and never questioned it, it was embraced with ever widening arms.

It was a trickle down effect--the head of the country was the sovereign, the head of the household, the husband. So the sovereign's power wasn't disputed, and neither was the husband's. James I in 1609 declared that "...Kings are compared to fathers in families: for a King is truly parens patria, the politic father of his people." In 1619 Robert Mocket's book God and the King insisted that all subjects were children of the King, therefore bound by the 5th Commandment to obey him.

According to Lawrence Stone's The Family, Sex and Marriage in England 1500-1800, even during the execution of Charles I in 1649, his subjects were dismayed at his death, looking upon it, almost as if their own father stood on the platform in Whitehall to be murdered.

No wonder sovereigns insisted they were their people's fathers, while fathers retained absolute control over their families. Any threat to the state diminished with this analogy. The nuclear family buttressed political order.

Not all households fell into his category, but the majority did. Women and children were often trapped with a man who abused them, with no option for escape. The head of house's power was all-consuming and, most importantly, right. This power was across religions and classes. Lower income families fluctuated between absolute power over their large families, and limited power over children who left home early to find work as an apprentice.

These laws were in existence until the 1900s, when war brought about social upheaval that could no longer be contained by old rules.

Social Movements: English Restoration

By Christine Koehler

The 17th century saw great change, and between Charles I and Charles II's reign saw the most change. Civil War raged across the land, taking all the reform and compromise Elizabeth I brought to Catholics and Protestants and destroying it.

Theaters were closed by a law supported by Cromwell and his fellow Puritans even before the execution of Charles I. The Globe Theater closed in 1642 when Parliament issued an ordinance halting all stage plays. It never opened again, and was demolished in 1644.

In 1647 stricter rules were put into place on all play houses, and in 1648 every structure where a play was preformed was destroyed and all players were seized and whipped. Anyone caught attending a play was fined five shillings.

In 1660, the year Charles II returned to England as monarch and theaters reopened.

Or should I say were allowed to open. They had to build them first. Charles II granted exclusive play-staging rights, Royal patents, to the King's Company--Thomas Killigrew and the Duke's Company--William Davenant. Both companies raced for performance rights to the previous generation's Jacobean and Caroline plays. Until their economic success was assured, no new plays could be produced.

Then they built theaters on Drury Lane (King's Company) and Dorset Gardens (Duke's Company). Both theaters were designed by Christopher Wren ad both looked similar because of this.

Women were allowed to perform onstage for the first time. I could find no conclusive reason for this, other than it seems the Restoration wanted to distance itself as much as possible from the Protectorate.

Samuel Pepys, a renowned diarist from the middle to late 1600s, refers to visiting the playhouse in order to watch or re-watch the performance of some particular actress. He very much he enjoyed these experiences.

It was during this time that actors/actresses became celebrities. Audiences flocked to see their favorite stars (or one of the King's many mistresses, Nell Gwyn).

The 'Restoration comedy' became widely popular, was extremely bawdy, and in direct opposition to Puritanical beliefs. It's best remembered not for specific wondrous plays but for its sexual explicitness, something Charles II, and consequentially his nobles, encouraged.

First staged in 1697, The Provok'd Wife is both a parody and a social commentary on the new regime.

The Brutes have a terrible relationship. Lady Brute married for money, Sir John for sex, and now he has been driven to drink and she to dreams of adultery. Flanked by a squadron of drunken rakes, debauched aristocrats, and lascivious French maids, the Brutes turn the town into a battlefield of love and infidelity, armed to the teeth with their dazzling, sharp-honed wit.

Sir John: If I could but catch her adulterating, I might be divorced from her by law.
Heartfree: And so pay her a yearly pension, to be a distinguished cuckold.
Source

The very fact that playwrights got away with this shows how much things changed between one decade and the next. Not only are they in business again, they're writing about the new regime, and living to tell the tale. Sure it had sex, but if you want someone's attention, say it with sex.