Category: Research

Posts in which we talk about research

Dining with Victorian Journalists

Updated on June 11, 2014 by Sandra Schwab

Punch Dinner in 1895

An important aspect of Allan’s Miscellany, the fictional magazine in my new series, is the weekly staff dinner on Wednesday nights. The dinner will be first mentioned in the second volume, where (unlike in The Bride Prize) the staff of Allan’s actually consists of more than two people. This is the relevant snippet:

In the courtyard of Allan and Sons, the lanterns had already been lit Jack saw, as he strode towards the stars that led to the open upper gallery. When he pushed open the door at the end of the short passage, warm, mellow light spilled from the room, and Jack was greeted by the sounds of male voices and laughter.

This was ‘the Den,’ the editorial office of Allan’s Miscellany, whereat the large table dominating the room, a magazine was fashioned week after week, where flame-haired William MacNeil ruled his crew of writers and artists with an iron fist. It was here that the staff assembled on Wednesday nights to discuss the next issue over an opulent dinner sponsored by their publisher. After all, Uncle Allan had argued, Fraser’s had a dinner and Punch had a weekly dinner, too — and what was good enough for them was certainly good enough for Allan’s!

As you can see from this snippet, not just my inner history geek, but also my ~~somewhat obsessive~~ love for Punch are coming to the fore again. The aspect of community is something I find extremely fascinating about the history of nineteenth-century periodicals in general and the history of Punch in particular. Community was as important to Victorian writers as it is to writers today — or perhaps even more so: in some cases the very survival of a writer / artist and his family depended on the charity of his colleagues. Dickens, for example, often organised amateur theatricals for the benefit of a colleague or his family.

But also in their normal everyday lives and their work, community and personal relationships were important to the journalists of the time. One editor had the habit of leafing through rivaling periodicals, and whenever he saw a negative review of a friend’s book or a negative article about a friend, he would immediately insert a passionate rebuttal into his own magazine. Dickens broke with Bradbury & Evans, his publishers, because Punch (also published by Bradbury & Evans) had refused to print his open letter to the public, in which Dickens explained the reasons for his separation from his wife.

For some magazines, the communal factor became relevant even when producing the magazine: as mentioned in the snippet above, the inner staff of Punch met for weekly dinners (on Wednesday nights, of course *g*), where they discussed the topic and motif for the next issue’s large cut, the central one-page political cartoon. The Punch dinners were legendary; in a way, they were one of the most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs in London: you could only attend upon invitation from the editor.

Below you can see an idealized depiction of the Punch Table from the 1890s, with Francis Burnand (editor from 1880-1890) on the left, making the toast of the evening. To his right sits Sir John Tenniel, who illustrated Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland books and had become a member of the staff of Punch in 1850. Dominating the background is a sculpture of Mr. Punch himself, and on the walls you can see portraits and busts of late staff members (e.g., the portrait of Mark Lemon, the first editor, is on the left; the bust on the left is Thackeray and the bust on the right is John Leech, the artist).

Punch Table 1891

In my series, I use the weekly dinners to introduce readers to the staff of Allan’s, to depict the sense of community that binds these men together, and to show the development of the magazine: as the magazine grows in importance, so do the numbers of writers and artists. The dinners are also a great opportunity for me to plant Easter eggs and running jokes like Matthew Clark’s whoopee cushion. The following is another snippet from Falling for a Scoundrel, the second volume in the series (aka the WIP I was supposed to finish by the end of May *cue in manic laughter*)

“Jack! There you are!” Matthew Clark — theatre and literature — shouted. “You won’t believe what I’ve found in that curiosity shop I told you about!”

Behind him Lawrence Pelham, comic artist, emphatically shook his head. Do not ask! he voiced silently.

“It’s the most splendid thing!”

Gervase Carlton, who covered general news as Mr. Copperwit, smirked. “Knowing our Matt, I say he’ll inflict that thing upon us for years to come.”

“Thing?” Jack echoed, his brows raised. Having shed his heavy coat, he sank down onto his chair — which bleated like a dying goat.

Jack jerked upright, his hand on the knife he carried hidden at his side.

Matt grinned delightedly. “See? You’ve found it! It’s a whoopee cushion. Isn’t it the most splendid thing?”

Taking a deep breath, Jack let his hand fall to his side and reminded himself that his colleague couldn’t possibly know how close his precious new whoopee cushion had come to being separated from its whoopee forevermore.

~ Sandy

Posted in Guest, History, Research | Tagged history geek, Punch, Sandra Schwab | Leave a reply

What? No Carpets? A Visit to Stratford Hall

Updated on June 8, 2014 by Diane Gaston

One of the unexpected pleasures of writing Regency Historicals for me is researching how people lived. I’m fascinated by the mundane details of life, like what flowers grew, what food would be eaten, what furniture would be in what room. On my England tours, I asked questions everywhere about the details of carpets that were on the floors.

I tend to forget that my lovely Virginia Commonwealth has a lot of history, as well, dating back to the 1600s when Jamestown was founded. (We aren’t a state, by the way; we’re a commonwealth–according to the Hornbook of Virginia History, “A commonwealth is ‘a state in which the supreme power is vested in the people.’ The term was first given to Virginia in the 1600s)

Last Monday, the dh and I celebrated our wedding anniversary with a trip to Westmoreland County in Virginia’s Northern Neck, the peninsula bounded by the Potomac and Rappahannock Rivers and the Chesapeake Bay. See more about our trip here.

This area was filled with wealthy tobacco plantations and was the birthplace of many of our important historical figures: George Washington, James Madison, James Monroe, the two Lees who signed the Declaration of Independence, and, at Stratford Hall, the place we visited, Confederate General Robert E. Lee.

Stratford Hall was built in 1730 by Colonel Thomas Lee who was then acting Governor of the colony. Two of his sons were the Lees who signed the Declaration of Independence. The house was built in the Georgian style, which would have been much the fashion in England at the time–very symmetrical. The main floor of the house included a Great Hall for grand entertaining, the dining room, bedchambers, parlors and the library. In the library, books were kept under lock and key; they were considered quite precious.

We had a fabulous guide to take us through the house and explain its features and history. (that’s me in the pink. The people in hats were, coincidentally, from England!)

I saw many familiar-looking tables, chairs, bureaus, wardrobes, beds. The house was furnished much like the English country houses I’d visited on my tours.

I noticed, though, that the floors were bare. When I went on those tours of country houses in England, remember, I always asked about carpets. Almost every room had carpets of some kind. Our guide to Stratford Hall said they kept the floors bare, because the carpets would have been hard to keep clean. They might have had painted sail cloth (oil cloth) floor covering, but no carpets.

I can just imagine some wealthy gentleman from England visiting a house like Stratford Hall in the Colonies. What the Virginians would have considered quite opulent, such an English visitor must have thought very provincial. The wealthy Virginian visiting a country house in England, like Chatsworth or Burghley House, must have walked around with his mouth open.

What “great houses,” historical or otherwise, have you visited lately?

I’m still doing my Goodreads Contest!

Goodreads Book Giveaway

A Lady of Notoriety

by Diane Gaston

Giveaway ends June 17, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

Posted in History, Research | Tagged Country House, Northern Neck, Robert E Lee, Stratford Hall | 4 Replies

The Victims’ Ball: Urban Legend and Contest

Updated on May 15, 2014 by Janet Mullany

Today we welcome guest Elizabeth Cole, author of both historical and contemporary romance. Previously, she worked in bookshops, libraries, and archives…anywhere there were books to be read and cared for. Now she can be found hanging around museums, coffeeshops, and (occasionally) graveyards. In addition to her sweet Regency novellas, Elizabeth is currently writing the SECRETS OF THE ZODIAC, a series of romantic spy thrillers also set in the Regency period. Take it away, Elizabeth!

My newest novel, A Reckless Soul, is set in the Regency, just like the other books in the Secrets of the Zodiac series. Taking place in 1806, it’s the story of two determined spies—one British, one French—who must work together to defeat an enemy who threatens both of them.

When researching for the story, however, I had to go back a little further. My heroine is French, and she grew up in Paris during the tumultuous period following the French Revolution. It’s a fascinating time filled with not only real history but a lot of legend and propaganda, too. One of the most interesting urban legends was the “Victims’ Ball.” What’s that, you ask?

Maybe you remember this little ghost story: One night in Paris, a young man meets a beautiful woman in a graveyard. She looks sad, wearing a red ribbon around her neck. Of course, the young man falls in love with her instantly (he’s French, after all!). He begins to court her, and every night he falls deeper and deeper in love. There’s just one problem. She never takes off the red ribbon, and soon he’s obsessed with it. So one night, he catches the end of the ribbon, unties it, and OOPS! her head falls right off. Turns out, she was the ghost of a woman beheaded by the guillotine. How tragic! How very French!

I first read that story as a child, in a collection of gruesome tales. But the tale is linked to another urban legend, that of the Victims’ Ball. According to later historians, including Thomas Carlyle in his book, French Revolution, after the Terror ended, the French aristocracy reasserted itself. One of the ways they did was to form morbid dancing societies. To be invited, you had to be “victime” of the guillotine, which meant that you had to be a close relative of someone who had died by the blade. No family martyrdom? No invite. Talk about cliquish!

Once you had your invitation, you also had to dress properly. There was a very specific look that attendees of the bals des victimes aimed for. Women wore beautiful, filmy dresses trimmed with—you guessed it—red ribbons. Some dresses had the ribbons in a cross-back pattern over the shoulder blades. It was the sartorial equivalent of telling the executioner “x marks the spot”. And of course, ladies wore red ribbons around their necks! It was not uncommon to sport a haircut called à la victime, which was a style with a dark inspiration. Anyone with long hair had it chopped off before ascending the platform to be killed. You wouldn’t want the guillotine blade to get a lot of hair on it, of course. That’s messy and inefficient! Hence, the surprisingly modern-looking cut worn by the later imitators. I could see Miley Cyrus rocking this cut.

Now, these bals des victimes were ostensibly private, but the idea was too salacious to ignore, and reports of the balls were published in French and British newspapers. Later scholars have found little evidence for the balls, and the current conclusion it that the “Victims’ Balls” were either made up, or perhaps happened once or twice and were gossiped about a lot more than they actually happened. It seems possible some of the reports (especially in Britain) were published just to make the French look crazy and decadent…and to sell more papers. It was basically an early 19th century version of clickbait.

Since I’m a writer of fiction, I had no problem including a reenactment of the Victims’ Ball in A Reckless Soul. Whether the history of these dances is 100% accurate I couldn’t say…but the dramatic potential of such a scene is just too good to pass up. And besides, even the strangest stories often have some basis in fact…

What do you think? Do you believe such a trend could have existed in the 1790s? Have you read about this elsewhere? Would you have gone if you were allowed in? And by far the most important question…what would you want to wear?

Enter the contest to win a digital copy of A Heartless Design, the debut novel in the Secrets of the Zodiac series–see below on how to enter. The winner will be announced Saturday morning.

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Posted in Guest, Research | Tagged Contest, Elizabeth Cole | 4 Replies

The Greatest of Palaces

Updated on May 13, 2014 by Amanda McCabe/Laurel McKee

First of all, I have to send a shout-out to Risky Carolyn for posting this very appropriate, and timely, graph of the writing process on Facebook. I am now firmly in the “write everything and cry” phase, since this WIP is due June 1 and is at that stage where the characters do want to listen to anything I say. I will see you when I creep out of the cave in a couple of weeks, looking to replenish my chocolate supply.

What am I writing??? Glad you asked! I am working on book 3 of my Kate Haywood Elizabethan Mystery series, Murder in the Queen’s Garden, set in the summer of 1559 at Nonsuch Palace, while Queen Elizabeth is on progress to various palaces and private homes while the weather is warm. It’s set at Nonsuch Palace, and I’ve had so much fun researching this most unusual castle. (though I must admit–I know of no real-life horrid murders that took place that, so I made a couple up…)

Nonsuch, as the name implies, was different from any other royal palace in England, smaller, more luxurious, more elaborate, meant to rival the splendid royal chateaux in France (like Chambord). Henry VIII began the building in Surrey on on April 22, 1538, tearing down an entire village and old manor house in order to do so. It was mostly finished by 1541, but not completed for several years after that. In fact, it was still incomplete when Henry died in 1547. In 1556 Queen Mary, his daughter, sold it to the Earl of Arundel, one of the richest lords in England who completed it. (In my story, Arundel has some vain hopes of marrying Queen Elizabeth, and hopes to use the palace to impress and entice her…). It returned to royal hands in the 1590s, and remained royal property until 1670, when Charles II gave it to his mistress, Barbar Castlemaine. She had it pulled down around 1682–3 and sold off the building materials to pay gambling debts. Some elements were incorporated into other buildings, but no trace of the palace remains on its site today. Some pieces are held by the British Museum.

Only about three contemporary images of the palace survive, and they don’t reveal very much about either the layout or the details of the building. The site was excavated in 1959–60. The plan of the palace was quite simple with inner and outer courtyards, each with a fortified gatehouse. To the north, it was fortified in the medieval style, but the southern face had ornate Renaissance decoration, with tall octagonal towers at each end ornamented with classical statues of gods and goddesses and bas reliefs.

The 1959 excavation of Nonsuch was a key event in the history of archaeology in the UK. It was one of the first post-medieval sites to be excavated, and attracted over 75,000 visitors during the work. A great research source I’ve used in this story is 2005’s Nonsuch Palace: The Material Culture of a Noble Restoration Household by Martin Biddle. There’s also a great website about the excavation work and a recreated model here.

I’ve loved spending time at Nonsuch in my imagination while I work on this story!! (though i admit,at this point I just want it to be DONE). I hope you’ll enjoy reading it. Murder in the Queen’s Garden will be out in February 2015….

What vanished palaces from the past would YOU want to visit with your time machine???

Posted in History, Research | 1 Reply

Instances of Ill Manners

Updated on May 9, 2014 by Myretta

Today’s post comes from my bookmarks rather than my library. And, although you can’t really tell from the title of the post, the book in question is a dance manual.

Among the goodies tucked into the Library of Congress’s online collection is The gentleman & lady’s companion; containing, the newest cotillions and country dances; to which is added, instances of ill manners, to be carefully avoided by youth of both sexes.. This little gem provides instruction (along with suggested music) for most of the dances being done in ballrooms in 1798 – and likely later. I’m sure you’ll find them useful.

However, the fun part of this treatise comes in the chapter titled “Inftances of ILL MANNERS, to be carefully avoided by youth of both fexes.” I thought it would be fun to consider some of the “inftances.”

Many of these seem pretty much like common sense. For example, “Entering a room with the hat on, and leaving it in the same manner.” This seems like common courtesy even today, particularly in the ballroom. However, “passing between the fire and persons sitting at it,” or “standing between the light and any person wanting it,” is fairly dated advice.

The book advises against contempt in looks, words, or actions, for a partner in dancing, or other persons which makes one wonder why you would request a dance with someone for whom you feel contempt. But perhaps this was more common in 1798. And for heaven’s sake, don’t distort your countenance and practice mimicry. I’m sure there’s no quicker way to lose a dance partner.

Rowlandson – The Miseries of Reading

By all means, do not “Lean on the shoulder, or chair of another person, and overlooking persons who are writing or reading.” Apparently Caroline Bingley had not read this section or she would not have been overlooking Darcy as he wrote to his sister. Class will out.

You are advised not to “loll on a chair when speaking or when spoken to, and look persons earnestly in the face without any apparent cause.” I can understand the prohibition against lolling. That’s so rarely courteous. But looking persons earnestly in the face? I’m not sure why that’s bad. Any ideas?

I get “laughing loudly, when in company, and drumming with feet or hands” and “swinging the arms, and all other awkward gestures, especially in the street, and in company.” Even today, I characterize such behavior as “ill-mannered.” On the other hand, “A constant smile or settled frown on the countenance” seems a tad stringent. Yes, a settled frown might be a little off-putting, but don’t you think a cheery face might be okay?

Nevertheless, both the author of The Gentleman and Lady’s Companion and I exhort you to especially eschew “All instances of that ill judged familiarity which breeds contempt.” And have a good day.

Posted in Frivolity, Research | 3 Replies