Scandal and Steroetypes

My very first historical novel Scandal's Mistress came out two weeks ago and so far I've been too busy to shamelessly self-promote. That's what this post is for!


Here's a taste and then I'll get to the ideas and stereotypes that made the book possible.


London, 1805

Justin Trentham, third son of the Earl of Billington, is determined to get himself disowned from his cold and unloving family. Despite his numerous affairs with questionable women of the ton, his parents continue to be dismissive of his ploys, but Justin spots the perfect scandal in the form of a beautiful, exotic Italian opera singer...

Carmalina Belluccini refuses to become his mistress, despite being tempted by his charms. But after losing her singing voice, she finds herself destitute. She agrees to be Justin's mistress for one month, until she has enough money to return to her beloved Italy.
She intends to keep their arrangement strictly business, but after witnessing Justin's vulnerable side, she finds herself falling more in love than in lust with him. Carmalina is having second thoughts about leaving England...but is their love strong enough to survive the scandal of the season?


I often get asked where I came up with the idea for Scandal's Mistress and I have to tell them I honestly can't remember. I do know that for a long time I have abhorred stereotypes be it person, time or thing and I love to step up on my soapbox and pooh, pooh those who like to put things in the square and refuse to see anything outside it. That's probably where the idea came from. Just because Carmalina is an Opera Singer, it does not make her a prostitute. Just because most of the women who trod the boards were, doesn't mean they all were. Right? Are you getting cranky alongside me here?

But since there are certain factual guidelines we have to follow when writing Regency, I had to make my Opera Singer different from the rest. Just because I feel as though not all singers were sluts, doesn't mean I can crack the mold and say it wasn't so. So I made Carmalina an Italian Opera Singer. Things were different in Italy. Then I stranded her in England and made her voice scratchy from the cold and soot. That's when things got really hard for her and she had to figure out where her next meal was going to come from if she couldn't sing for her supper. Enter Justin Trentham. The season's bad boy and scandal king. You'll have to read the story to see what happens next. I can tell you it has a twist you (hopefully) won't see coming and you may or may not cry (just a little bit).

Enjoy and thanks for popping by!       

Buy from Carina Press, Amazon, B&N, All Romance Ebooks and most etailers.

THE DISCOVERY OF THE ROYAL TOMBS OF UR

Firstly an apology...I know I promised a post on the Laws of Divorce but a recent visit to the Melbourne Museum's current exhibition on The Wonders of Ancient Mesopotamia (which is on until 7 October) combined with the release on September 3 of my new book, GATHER THE BONES, which coincidentally involves the 1922 discoveries of Ur, has led me in a different direction.

The Royal Standard of Ur

I have always been a closet archaeologist. In fact I was so keen on the dream of becoming an archaeologist that I had obtained all the information on enrolling in the London School of Archaeology when I finished University. Not to be. I finished my legal qualification, met a man, got married...and spent my life as a lawyer.  Not surprisingly I ADORE programs like Time Team. I don’t care if I am watching repeats or new episodes, every time a tiny chunk of dried,  black mud is identified as a piece of Anglo Saxon Pottery from the kiln on the west side of the hill in Chipping Leghorn, I feel a frisson of excitement. On my trips to England my husband and I can now spot a piece of Roman Samian ware pottery at 50 metres.

At University I had studied Ancient History under an eccentric old professor who still wore his gown and whose name, sadly, I can no longer recall. He had a passion for Sumerian History which he inculcated in me. So it is not surprising that when I was casting around for a suitable profession for the hero of GATHER THE BONES, Paul Morrow, he became a frustrated archaeologist. I often wonder if authors tend to vent their own frustrations on their characters, a sort of Munchausen by Proxy!

Despite Paul’s classical education, he had been forced into the army, rather than take up a scholarship at Oxford. Now, in 1923 (when my story is set), he works on the archaeological digs as the expedition manager rather than an archaeologist. To be honest I invented Paul’s position with the expedition, reasoning that someone had to organise the logisitics of an Expedition of this size and who better than an impoverished former army officer? 

C.L. Wooley and his site foreman Hahmoud

The early 1920s were an extraordinary time in archaeology. In Egypt, Carter had just opened the tomb of Tutankhamun and elsewhere in the Middle East activity that had been suspended during the Great War was recommencing.  In Iraq (or Mesopotamia as it was still known) Charles Leonard Woolley had begun work on the excavations, near Basrah, of a site that was to become known as the Royal Tombs at Ur. Some excavation had already been done on the site in the early part of the century but it was not until 1922 when the British Museum and the University of Pennsylvania launched a combined dig that serious excavation of the site began.

Woolley and team at the dig house

The digging season took place in the winter months to make the most of the cooler weather and Woolley commenced work in November 1922.   He commenced the dig with two large trenches near the ruins of a Ziggurat and within a week Trench A had already produced extraordinary evidence of high status burials with the discovery of gold items. Trench B produced more prosaic buildings and pottery. Feeling he lacked the experience to proceed with a full scale burials excavation, Woolley closed down Trench A and work continued on Trench B which revealed the important temple of E-Un-Mah and the beginnings of a massive wall. Time ran out and in Spring, the dig closed down and Woolley and his team returned to London (...and Paul to Holdston Hall).

Woolley supervising excavation

The excavations at Ur went on until 1934 and over that period the most extraordinary finds in the history of archaeology were unearthed. A total of about 1,850 burials were uncovered, including 16 that were described as “royal tombs” containing many valuable artefacts, including the Standard of Ur and the Lamb in the Thicket. Most of the royal tombs were dated to about 2600 BC. The finds included the unlooted tomb of a queen thought to be Queen Puabi (the name is known from a cylinder seal found in the tomb, although there were two other different and unnamed seals found in the tomb). Many other people had been buried with her, in a form of human sacrifice.

Cuneiform tablet

I did give Paul something useful to do in translating cuneiform tablets. Cuneiform had been deciphered by the end of the nineteenth century and the clay tablets are eloquent in their insight into Sumerian life. In my research for the book I came across the story of the boy who didn’t want to go to school that Paul tells Alice.

Woolley with Max Mallowan and Agatha Christie 1931

Finally a literary connection...one of the archaeologists who worked on the later excavations with Woolley was Max Mallowan, husband of Agatha Christie. Christie would accompany her husband for the dig season and, of course, her book (possibly my favourite of her books) MURDER IN MESOPOTAMIA is based on her experiences on the digs.

If you are interested in the excavations at Ur, visit http://www.britishmuseum.org/explore/highlights/article_index/u/ur.aspx and, of course, good old Wikipedia is abounding in articles. For my research I went back to the bookshelves and dug out my old text book from University days...The Sumerians by Samuel Noah Kramer, one of the definitive works on the subject.

The Georgian Theatre Royal ~ by Cheryl Leigh

A visit to the Georgian Theatre Royal in Richmond, North Yorkshire, is a delightful, wondrous experience and akin to stepping back in time. Theatres often burned down during the eighteenth century, but this Georgian gem of a playhouse survived with most of its original features intact.  

Stage from pit (c) Cloud 9 Allen Tod

In the eighteenth century, Richmond was an important market town with a thriving provincial social scene, consisting of balls, race meetings and Assemblies. But the town lacked a theatre as royal patents were given to only a few provincial theatres. An Act was passed in 1788, allowing licences for classical plays to be performed for sixty days at any one time, which enabled Samuel Butler to open the Theatre in Friars Wynd in September that year. Butler had married a twice-widowed, forty-six-year-old Richmond actress when he was twenty-three in 1773 and took over the running of her troupe of travelling players. The Butler Company continued to stage regular productions until the lease expired in 1830. The Theatre closed in 1848 and became an auction house, wine store, and later, a corn chandler. Extensive restorations over the years have ensured the Theatre retains its authenticity, so audiences today enjoy the same intimate atmosphere as in past times. 

The new front attached to original building (c) Cloud 9

In those days, patrons entered through the only entrance, the double doors in Friars Wynd, and handed their coins to Mrs. Butler in the pay box. The cheapest seats were in the gallery. For a shilling, the young and dissolute climbed the narrow, wooden stairs and sat on the benches. People in the front row would kick the board at the base of the panels to indicate their disapproval of an actor's performance. The original pay box and staircase are still there - the tight squeeze on the steep stairs would have made exiting difficult and dangerous if a fire had occurred.

The pit cost two shillings and benches ran from wall to wall. Today there are removable bench ends that extend over the aisles, and detachable cushions and backs make the theatre experience more comfortable. At three shillings per person, the boxes were the best seats. Or were they? While the crowd in the pit could be hit by flying oranges and such, my guide informed me people sat for four hours or more and had nowhere to relieve themselves, so the rich patrons in the boxes sometimes ended up with wet wigs or clothing from urine dripping through the floorboards overhead! 

view from stage (c) Cloud 9

The eleven boxes are named after playwrights. Only the inscription on the centre one, Shakespeare, spelled the old-fashioned way, is original. The two boxes on the edge of the stage allowed for intimate involvement between the audience and actors. Juliet boxes, used for balcony scenes, are on either side of the stage above the proscenium doors. The Royal Box is, of course, the best seat as it has a direct line to the actors on stage. I can confirm this is true after sitting on the same chair used by Prince Charles and other royals. That's the closest I'll ever get to royalty! As I drank in the atmosphere and admired the blue-green Georgian colour scheme, it was easy to imagine the laughter from the pit, the actors raising their voices over the unruly crowd in the gallery, the rustle of my silk gown as I turn to greet a friend in the next box...oops, back to the present. 

As there were no tickets in those days, wealthier patrons would send their servants to pay earlier in the evening and mind a seat for them. A peephole in the door to the boxes slid open so they could see where their servants were sitting. Mrs. Butler also used this to keep an eye on the performance and the audience's behaviour. The ceiling has been painted with a blue sky and white clouds,   imitating the open courtyard where plays were watched before theatres were built. The Theatre seats 214, but Samuel Butler could cram in 400 people.   

Playbill courtesy of The Georgian Theatre Royal

The floor of the stage was raised at the back to give audiences a better view. Candles on dishes, floating in a trough of water, lit the foot of the stage. On chilly evenings, the fireplace at the back of the stage was used to warm the actors. Both dressing rooms also have a fireplace. Actors often slept on the floor of the dressing rooms when accommodation was unavailable during the busy Season. The machine room under the stage contained the mechanism to winch the trough of footlights to the stage, and a counter-weighted platform to shoot an actor through a trapdoor, which often resulted in injury. Once there were three trapdoors, now there is one. The museum at the back of the Theatre houses many original objects, as well as the Woodland Scene, believed to be the oldest known scenery, painted between 1818 and 1836.

This video shows a detailed tour inside the Theatre.

Here is the link to the Georgian Theatre Royal. Museum Week, held every summer, gives visitors an even greater insight into the Theatre's early beginnings.

* Many thanks to Sarah at The Georgian Theatre Royal for the photos of the Theatre.

Sources:

Curtis, Vaughn, and Waugh, Doug, eds. The Georgian Theatre Royal.

Richmond: Castle Print

 

 

History was written on the back of the horse.

By Danielle Lisle

As Wednesday, August the 1^st, is the horses celebrated birthday here in Australia, I thought I’d honour them by discussing their input into history.

"History was written on the back of the horse," an inscription at The Horse Park in Kentucky, USA.   How very true.

The Nobleman, groom and steed.

Our four-legged friend, the horse, has played a substantial role in the world of historical romance. From the simple but strong carriage horse in the Regency novel, to the adaptable mountain pony in the Scottish Highlands, or the stunning steed which the duke rode upon as he whisked his future duchess off her feet, the horse has always been by our hero’s side.

These days horses do not appear in modern day novels as much as they once did, simply because ownership of horses has turned from an essential form of transport, to an ownership of pleasure.

Like today, horses were not a ‘cheap’ commodity to own or maintain. Horses ranged in price, depending on their use. Where they part of a matching team for a stately carriage, a well breed hack for a gentlemen or lady, or perhaps a horse with superior speed offering the gentlemen a potential taste of victory on the track. I read somewhere (of which I can’t recall, much to my frustration) that William Cavendish, the 6th Duke of Devonshire, paid a thousand pounds (about $100,000 today) for a race horse which had to be shot two weeks later as it broke it leg in its first race. Bummer...

In the Regency, one could not own a carriage or keep the horses to draw it if you didn’t earn at least 1,100 pounds a year. This equates to about $110,000 in today’s markets. Don’t forget it is not simply just the initial cost of buying the steed that will set you back, which could range from one to several hundred pounds for a midrange animal, but you had to maintain the horses and keep grooms and drivers. A horse kept in stable in London cost a lot more to feed than a horse at a country estate. It wasn’t like the London horses had access to pasture to graze and therefore cost more to feed in grain.

A post-chaise carriage

Instead, most people hired horses and drivers when they travelled or used the services of a hackney coach (taxi) while in London. While still rather expensive, they did not tie one down to the ongoing costs of the animals keep or their handler’s wages. An example of costs for a longer journey, hiring two horses and a post-chaise carriage and a postilion (rider/driver) at the cost of 1/- per mile (1.6kms). The distance from Longbourn to Rosings we know was about 50 miles (about 80kms), so the cost of travelling there would be 50/-, 2 pounds ten, or in today’s equivalent about $250. This was the most cost effective way for people to travel.

**Please forgive me if I’ve offered a seemingly large section on how much it all cost, it just blows my mind! Allrighty, different track – jockeys ready?

Tattersall's 1865

What do you think of when you hear, “Tattersall’s”? I think of my mother and her weekly trip to the newsagency to buy her lotto ticket.
Well, back in the Regency, Tattersall’s was a horse sale yards in London, established in 1766 by Richard Tattersall, horse master to the Duke of Kingston. These sale yards become a popular place to buy and sell horseflesh, carriages and even hounds, with sale days being twice a week in winter and one a week in summer. It housed stabling for over a hundred horses with plenty of room to inspect carriages or the yapping hounds in their kennels (think of the noise!).

While there was always the opportunity to visit the sale yards, most of the gentry took an avid interest in breeding their own horseflesh, some actually became well known for it.

Horses were also fashion statements. Who had the best horse or the most stunning steed?

"I say, did you see the stallion Lord Percy rode upon in Lester Square yestereve? The beast was simply the most stunning horse I have ever laid eyes upon!"

In 1711, Queen Anne established regular race meetings at her park at Ascot (heard of it anyone?) while several gentlemen also arranged private ‘match races’ between themselves, the stakes often quite high.

But we woman cannot be forgotten. Flat and steeple racing was also held for women. Mrs. Bateman wrote in 1723, "Last week, Mrs. Aslibie arranged a flat race for women, and nine of that sex, mounted astride and dressed in short pants, jackets and jockey caps participated. They were striking to see, and there was a great crowd to watch them. The race was a very lively one; but I hold it indecent entertainment." Some women--such as the infamous Letty Lade, who reportedly swore like a coachman, rode and drove to please themselves, and made their own fashion statement by bucking the trends for demure ladies. (I think I would have liked these woman...)

But horse racing was a increasingly expensive sport (yes, at the costs again). Prince Regent’s stud farm for his horses was rumoured to have an annual cost of 30,000 pounds a year for its upkeep. That’s 3 million a year today! Sheesh!

How many of you out there dreamed of owning your own horse, riding it off into the sunset and feeling the wind fly through your hair?

My boy, Rain Ridge

I was one of the few lucky kids out there, owning my own horse since the age of seven. To this day I still own the Thoroughbred I brought (after working and saving for a year as a checkout chick at Woolworths) when I was fifteen. Rain, or Rain Ridge as was his racing/show name, carried me through the years of Pony Club and Eventing. We even tried PoloX once, but after my teammate hit me in the head with a bat, I determined the sport was not for me. Today he lives the cosy life in retirement, with the occasion weekend trail ride through the bush or on an excursion to the beach. It’s not a bad life for a horse in his late twenties, though once a horse ‘retired’ in the days gone past, their fate was not always guaranteed to be a relaxing one.

Once a horse became old, no longer able to keep up with the other horses in the team or simply because it became injured, the quickest answer was a bullet. This was not always the case and sometimes if the horse was deemed favourably by its owner or horse master, it would be sent out to a farm to work for its remaining days. But sadly, a true retirement, of lazy days roaming a lush paddock, wasn’t a rarity. Good to see some things have changed.

Happy Birthday Horses! Have a carrot on me.

In my debut novel, THE ROSE’S BLOOM (that coincidently hits the shelves today) my hero and heroine relied a great deal on their trusty steeds, whether it be to take them on a hunt, journey or simply a pleasure ride. My hero was actually out on a hunt when he noticed a young woman by the riverbank, her unexperienced fingers seeming to get her nowhere. He was a gentleman after all, and who is he to allow this poor damsel to go unaided? *giggle*

THE ROSE'S BLOOM

THE ROSE'S BLOOM is the first instalment in my ROGUES OF DECEPTION series with Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Comment below to go in the running for a change to win your very own copy! Just remember to leave your email address so I can contact you if you’re the lucky winner!

Danielle can be contacted on her Facebook and Twitter accounts or alternatively comment below.

Quote reference: Website, Rakehell, Regency Horses