Seduced By History

WE'VE MOVED!

2011-11-04T22:17:00.000-04:00

Hearts Through History RWA chapter has revamped its website, and in doing so, the Seduced by History blog has moved. Check out our new home HERE.

Our monthly contests will continue there, so be sure to comment often on the posts...the more you comment, the more chances of winning goodie bags or workshops!

Anna Kathryn Lanier
Blog Moderator

American Pie

2011-10-28T13:56:00.000-04:00

Jack O' Lantern is making his annual visit. We'll soon see him with his glowing toothy grin leering from porches and windows across America. Jack's name reveals his Celtic origins. He may have come to this country from Ireland, but he acquired his round, orange countenance right here. On the ould soil, he was carved from turnips and rutabagas.

Pumpkins are native to the Western Hemisphere. It was cultivated in Central America as early as 5500 B.C, as a staple of the Native American diet. They introduced it to European settlers who soon added it to their diet as well. The Europeans learned the versatility of the pumpkin, roasting its seeds, using it in stews, soups and breads, cutting the dried shells into strips and weaving them into mats. They used the leaves and blossoms raw or fried as vegetables. Pumpkins served medicinal purposes as a remedy for snakebite, a cure for freckles, and its seeds were considered a protection from prostate cancer.

The early European settlers made pumpkin pies by hollowing out the shell and filling it with milk, honey and spices before baking it. Whether this recipe came from Native Americans or not is unknown.

Whether you puree the remains of your Halloween pumpkin or take a can off the shelf, here's my favorite pie recipe for this season.

APPLE BUTTER PUMPKIN PIE

1 c. solid pack pumpkin

1 c. apple butter

1/4 c. packed brown sugar

1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp. ground ginger

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/4 tsp. salt

3 eggs, lightly beaten

1 c. undiluted evaporated milk

9 inch deep dish pie shell

Streusel topping: Combine 3 tablespoons softened butter, 1/2 cup flour, 1/3 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup chopped pecans (optional).

Preheat oven to 375°F. Combine filling ingredients in order given; pour into pie shell. Bake 50 to 60 minutes or until knife inserted two inches from center comes out clean. Top with streusel topping. Bake for additional 15 minutes.

Makes 1 (9-inch) pie.

Note: Cover pie crust with foil pieces or cut 9 inch circle of foil; cut out center leaving 1 inch wide ring of foil, place foil halo over crust edges.

Barbara Scott is the author of West of Heaven, Cast a Pale Shadow, and Talk of the Town

Rasputin, The Tsarina and the fall of the Autocracy

2011-10-23T00:15:00.005-04:00

By Emma Westport

In July 1904, the cannons of the Peter and Paul fortress fired 300 times to announce that, after four daughters, Alexandra had given birth to a son. Russia had a Tsarevich. The imperial couple was overjoyed but, within six short weeks, that joy turned to pain. Something was wrong. The slightest bump, the smallest pinch and the baby’s skin bruised. The bruises did not heal. The child cried with pain and neither his mother nor his doctors could offer him relief. Alexei was a hemophiliac.

For Alexandra, the news was devastating. She’d already lost a brother and uncle to the disease and she knew what the future held. Her beautiful boy had almost no chance of surviving to adulthood and, even if he did, he’d never be live or play like a normal child. There was nothing conventional medicine could do.

Alexandra looked elsewhere. In 1905, friends introduced her and her husband to Rasputin. Neither priest nor monk, the uneducated peasant had already earned a repuation as a starets or spiritual teacher. He was also known as a healer and prophet. Did he provide relief to the young Tsarevich? His worst critics admit he did. He also helped the Tsarina deal with her unbearable guilt and suffering--but that help came at a price.

Rasputin's gifts were offset by his drinking and womanizing. Scandal was his constant companion. As his power grew, so did his faults, his behavior becoming increasingly outrageous. Nicholas ignored it—Alexandra denied it—but the scandal was always there. And the stink of it threatened the autocracy. Many believed there was more to the relationship between Alexandra and Rasputin than the sharing of spiritual comfort.

The situation became especially ugly in 1910 and 1911 when Rasputin seduced a woman serving as nurse to the Imperial children. The governess, on hearing the story, objected to Rasputin’s familiarity with the Grand Duchesses. She insisted the Tsarina ban him from the girls’ bedrooms. The Tsarina refused. The nurse and governess were dismissed. Rasputin was now free to come and go as he pleased and the rumors that spread through St. Petersburg now included the young Grand Duchesses.

Nicholas was ineffective in dealing with Rasputin. Unwilling to upset his wife, he ignored police reports and the advice of friends. He even ignored photographs. After a night's carousing, a drunk and naked Rasputin had been photographed surrounded by a circle of nude women. Blackmailers told Rasputin he had a choice. Leave St. Petersburg or the pictures would be given to the Tsar. Rasputin took the photos to Nicholas himself, saying he’d sinned and begging for forgiveness. Nicholas forgave him. But the behavior continued.

In 1914, the first attempt was made on Rasputin’s life. A former prostitute, disfigured by syphilis, disguised herself as a beggar woman and followed Rasputin to his home in Siberia. She asked him for money and, when he stopped to help her, she stabbed him, nearly killing him. Rasputin recovered but his drinking increased.

In 1915, Rasputin tried to seduce a woman at the famous Yar restaurant in Moscow. When the lady refused his efforts a drunken, outraged Rasputin went berserk. He smashed the furniture and mirrors in the private dining room, shouting all the while about his relationship with the ‘old woman,’ the Tsarina, and bragging how he did “with her what I want!” He exposed himself and was finally dragged away by police, fighting and hollering the Tsar would protect him and threatening to get even. The event was witnessed--and publicized--by a journalist who was present.

Alexandra had failings but being Rasputin’s lover was not one of them. Unfortunately, letters she’d written to Rasputin convinced people otherwise. The Tsarina’s flowery language was deliberately misinterpreted and pornographic caricatures of the Tsarina and Rasputin began to circulate.

All this occurred at a time when Russia was experiencing defeats at the front and serious problems at home. With Nicholas taking over command of the armies, Alexandra took a more active role in the government and her decisions were guided by Rasputin. It was a recipe for disaster.

In November 1916, Vladimir Purishkevich, a conservative member of the Duma, Russia’s parliament, gave a speech in in which he spoke of spoke of the “filthy, depraved, corrupt peasant” the Tsarina all but worshipped. Rasputin was seen to be at the center of the ‘Dark Forces’ destroying the country.

In less than a month, Purishkevich joined with Prince Felix Yusopov, the Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, and a few other conspirators. Together, they would plot the infamous and successful assassination of the starets.

Rasputin was murdered on December 29, 1916. His assassins hoped Rasputin's death would turn things around but it was already too late.

For his part, Rasputin expected assassination. He'd allegedly warned Nicholas and Alexandra that if his death came at the hands of the nobility, neither they nor their dynasty would last more than two years. In that, he was correct. Nicholas abdicated the throne on March 15, 1917. He, his wife and five children were murdered in July 1918.

The 300 year old dynasty had come to an end.

(All dates are new style. The quotes are from Brian Moynahan’s biography, Rasputin: The Saint Who Sinned. The photo is from wikimedia.)

A New Kind of Sheriff in Town

2011-10-22T12:04:00.001-04:00

Hello there, Christina here today. I've been wanting to write this post for a while but really wanted to do it justice as it speaks of a legacy of strong women during a time when it would have been too easy for the so-called weaker sex to lie back and allow men to control their surroundings.

Have you ever dug into your family ancestry? I have. I do it all the time. I find it's a wonderful way to escape from the modern world and delve into the past. And every now and again I come across a real gem.

Allow me to introduce you to my great great great grandmother Estella Gates. She was a sheriff in Benzie County Michigan. She was, in fact, the first female sheriff in Michigan, elected in 1916 after having served as a deputy for several years under her husband, William Moore Gates.

I found one article that tells a few of her feats as sheriff.

"Oh! I didn't do so much. The people elected me sheriff. The work had to be done and I did it."

The article goes on to say how she stopped two murderers from escaping her jail cell and "jailed the most notorious of the river rats".

Another newspaper article, one from Oklahoma, claims this same woman was their first female sheriff as well. Eventually her and her husband moved to Texas before they returned to Michigan where she died of pneumonia at the age of 80.

I never had the pleasure of meeting her, but after speaking with second cousins who grew up under her tutelage, they say she was the sweetest and kindest lady they'd ever known. I can only imagine what it would have been like to spend my summers with Sheriff Gates. One has to wonder what kind of woman it took to keep the peace and what kind of man stood at her side while she did it. I've been told the pair were very much in love. Of course, I know their lives weren't always filled with roses as one of their sons, my great great grandfather, died a tragic death and caused a great mysterious scandal, but that's a blog post for another day and another time as the event continues to affect those still among the living.

Here are a few pictures from one of my cousins. As you can see, the picture of William Gates is a campaign advertisement. I think he kind of looks like Kurt Russell from Tombstone.

This is the gun Estella used during her time as sheriff. I'm sure she kept it handy after her service too. I was a little suprised at its size. I figured as well as Grandma was able to keep the peace in her once boisterous jurisdiction she would have carried something a little bigger. But then I guess a bullet is a bullet when it's well placed.

This next picture is of a nighstick, whether it belonged to her husband or to Estella nobody is real sure, but I thought you'd like to see it.

Looks like it's been well used. Maybe on a few hard skulls of all those lumberjack Estella had been known to keep under control.

By changing a few details here and there, Estella's life would make a wonderful historical romance. Just think, a female sheriff, rough and rugged lumberjacks, river rats, murderers and a hero who looks like Kurt Russell and is confident enough in his manhood to accept her chosen occupation.

Yeah, I think it's a story I'd love to read.

Do you research your ancestry? Have you ever come across really interesting tidbits?

We're Moving!

2011-10-21T23:22:00.000-04:00

Hearts Through History has launched aq new website and the Seduced by History blog will be moving to the website. Some blogs have already been posted there, so stop by our new site and say hi!

SEDUCED BY HISTORY BLOG

Anna Kathryn Lanier
Blog Moderator

Sightings of Anne Boleyn's Ghost

2011-10-17T09:55:00.003-04:00

Ghosts and the places they haunt are interesting but not usually included in historical biographies. One exception is The Lady in the Tower: The Fall of Anne Boleyn by, Alison Weir. Weir discusses some of the sightings of Anne Boleyn noting that sightings of Anne Boleyn occur on the anniversary of her beheading May 19, on Christmas Eve.

Second wife of Henry VIII, Anne failed to produce a live male heir to secure the Tudor dynasty. After Catherine of Aragon’s death, and Anne’s miscarriage of a son, Henry used allegations of Anne’s adultery to behead Anne for treason in 1536. The most probable reason for Henry’s dubious charges against Anne was the need to secure the succession of the English throne with a male heir. For that task, Henry needed another wife, and he had already selected Anne’s successor, Jane Seymour, before Anne’s treason trial.

Perhaps the trumped up charges against Anne, the fact that Henry was already courting Jane Seymour, and the brutal trauma of the beheading caused Anne’s ghost to haunt not one but seven places.

Blickling Hall in Norfolk was the probable birthplace of Anne Boleyn. Although the existing house was built in the seventeenth century, Thomas Boleyn owned the property. On May 19, Anne returns to Blickling Hall in a carriage drawn by six headless horses. She sits inside the carriages with her severed head either on her lap or by her side.

Hever Castle, built in 1272, purchased by the Boleyns and rebuilt into a Tudor residence, is Anne’s childhood home. Henry courted her under the great oak still standing today. Every Christmas Eve Anne’s ghost is seen crossing the bridge over the River Eden within the castle grounds. Sometimes her ghost is observed standing under the tree.

At Hampton Court Palace, one of her royal residences during her reign, Anne’s ghost wears a blue dress and walks slowly through the halls with an air of great sadness.

At another royal residence she inhabited, Windsor’s castle, her ghost appears at the window of Dean’s Cloister.

Anne still haunts the Tower of London in several places. Her ghost has been sighted in the White Tower, the Queen’s house where she supposedly stayed the night before her execution then again during her imprisonment. In 1817 a sentry patrolling the White Tower encountered Anne’s ghost on the staircase. The sighting caused a fatal heart attack. In 1864 while guarding the outside of the Queen’s House, another sentry stated he saw Anne’s faceless ghost wearing a Tudor dress and a French hood. When he thrust his bayonet through her, a fiery flash ran up his rifle and shocked him.

In the nineteenth century a Captain of the Guard claims to have seen Anne’s ghost in a strange spectacle recorded in “Ghostly Visitors” by Specter Stricken, London 1882. He had seen a suspicious light coming from the Chapel Royal of St Peter ad Vincula where Anne was buried. After leaning a ladder against the chapel wall and peering in one of the windows to investigate, this is what he claimed to have seen:

Slowly down the aisle move a stately procession of Knights and Ladies,

attired in ancient costumes; and in the front walked an elegant female

whose face was averted from him, but whose figure greatly resembled

the one he had seen in reputed portraits of Anne Boleyn. After having

repeatedly paced the chapel, the entire procession together with the

light disappeared.

Anne’s ghost is also said to haunt Salle Church where it is reported her bones were later buried, but no specific details emerge from the sightings.

She is haunts Maxwell Hall’s Yew Tree Walk where Henry VIII and Jane supposedly strolled while planning their wedding. Rumors have it that Henry married Jane privately at Maxwell Hall on May 19, 1536 after news of Anne’s execution reached Henry via a line of beacons.

Needless to say, Anne’s hauntings were the basis for my ghosts Lady Anne and Desdemona in Wanted Ghostbusting Bride.

For more information on Anne Boleyn’s ghosts see Alison Weir’s Lady in the Tower: The Fall of Anne Boleyn and http://www.theanneboleynfiles.com/the-ghost-of-anne-boleyn/4859/

Margaret Breashears

www.wantedghostbustingbride.com

Wandering Pearl

2011-10-14T00:01:00.000-04:00

La Peregrina is one of the most famous pearls in the world.  Found by a slave in the Spanish colony of Panama, circa mid-sixteenth century, it was delivered to King Philip II of Spain. At that time, the jewel was the largest pearl ever discovered, pear-shaped and weighing nearly fifty-six carats. The king gave it to his affianced wife, Mary I of England, (shown above) sometimes called "Bloody Mary."

Quite the blushing bride, isn't she?

The pearl was eventually returned to Spain upon Mary's death. This is astonishing, given her sister-successor's penchant for fine jewelry. You may recall Elizabeth was to later bid against the Queen Mother of France, Catherine de Medici, over the spoils left behind by Mary Queen of Scots. Some of those spoils included rare black muscades--pearls of a deep purple color. La Peregrina, in contrast, went back to Phlip "The Prudent" and became part of the Spanish queen consorts' collection, until she began the second leg of her eventful journey.

In 1808, Napoleon installed his brother Joseph Bonaparte as king of Spain after a successful invasion of the Iberian Peninsula.  Throughout his reign, the elder Bonaparte accomplished little besides orchestrating his own abdication in an effort to return to the more salubrious throne of Naples. Finally deposed, he took with him part of the Spanish crown jewels, among them La Peregrina. Some of the jewels he sold while living in the United States. La Peregrina he willed to his nephew, Bonaparte III.  The Emperor's wife Eugenie was a known connoisseur of pearls but during the couple's exile in England, they were forced to sell La Peregrina to James Hamilton, Duke of Abercorn, direct ancestor of both Diana, Princess of Wales and her sister-in-law Sarah, Duchess of York.

While in the duke's possession, La Peregrina did not have to go far to become completely lost to the world, at least temporarily. His wife Louisa Hamilton wore the pearl on a necklace. It was too heavy for the setting and fell out twice.  Once in a sofa in Windsor Castle and the other at a ball in Buckingham Palace.

Can't you just imagine His Grace's remonstrations:

"What the devil? You've lost the blasted thing twice now."
"But my love," his wife replied with asperity, "it was you who insisted we buy it. And all because you wanted to impress the French empress."
"Fustian," he stammered. "The merest trumpery."

The Hamilton family eventually sold La Peregrina to Richard Burton, a movie and stage actor. I have it on very good authority that he was, and I'm quoting, "the best looking man that had come down the pike in a long time." $37,000 was the price the pearl fetched at Sotheby's and soon found its way, via Valentine's Day, into the possession of someone another authority has declared unequivocally to be the "most beautiful woman in the world." The pearl was as intrepid in Elizabeth Taylor's possession as it had been in Her Grace of Abercorn's. The actress lost it in the Burtons' suite at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas. Miraculously, it was found unharmed in her Pekinese dog's mouth. He was chewing on it like a bone!

Here Ms. Taylor is wearing La Peregrina in the 1969 movie production, Anne of a Thousand Days.

Like history? Fall in love with it! Visit Angelyn's blog at www.angelynschmid.com

for forays into the Regency era and historic buildings throughout the United Kingdom.

Who are (were) you?

2011-10-13T13:28:00.003-04:00

Who are (were) you?

If you’ve seen the movie Patton staring George C. Scott, you might remember the part where Patton goes out to visit the ruins of Carthage in North Africa. And he tells his companions about how the Romans destroyed Carthage, as says that he, Patton was one of the Carthaginians talking about his past lives.

This movie and a discussion of past lives came up in the instructor’s dining room between a bunch of us history teacher when I was teaching (college level). The conversation was you had to assume that you had past lives, so each of us had to identify our past lives, and since we were all history teachers we all had eras of history to which we felt closest.

So where do I feel a connection? Much to my surprise when this conversation came up, instead of saying Elizabethan England (my master’s is Tudor and Stuart England), there were other time periods.

Letting my imagination run with the idea of past lives, I came up with several past lives, as it were. I’ve marched with Alexander the Great (probably as a camp follower), stood in a line of men with a muzzle loading rifle and fired at the enemy. And since I feel very close to WWII, I decided I was a WASP who died in the war, as I was born (in this life?) after the war.

Just like when I started to write, instead of Medievals, I’m writing in the Americas. My first book, KENTUCKY GREEN, takes place in frontier territory in 1794. I feel drawn to the frontier. When I visited Yorktown Victory center many years ago, they have a recreation of a colonial/frontier farm. Walked into that log cabin, and felt at home. I could have lived there in the 1700s.

This is a really great exercise for writers, to image, or feel the past in some way. So are you writing in the era that you feel closest to? Have you visited historical sites and ‘felt’ a connection? Or maybe didn’t feel a connection much to your surprise? Our local chapter had a workshop about past lives once, and everyone had a lot of fun with the idea. I would have never thought of this as a tool to use with writing without that conversation in the teacher’s dining room.

Do you think imagining past lives might be of help with writing historical?

THE SLEEPING GIANT

2011-10-09T07:00:00.000-04:00

THE SLEEPING GIANT AND OTHER FIGURES FROM
NATIVE AMERICAN LEGENDS YOU DON’T WANT TO CROSS

Legends of any kind have always fascinated me, and while researching for my book, Widow’s Walk, I’ve become even more interested in them. Since the action in the book takes places in Northern Minnesota, including among an Ojibwe tribe, that is where I began my research. One of the more interesting, and dangerous, legends is that of The Sleeping Giant.
Looking across from Thunder Bay, you can see a formation of land called The Sleeping Giant. According to the Ojibwe legend, the Spirit of the Deep Sea, Nanna Bijou, rewarded the tribe for their loyalty. The chief learned from the Spirit about a tunnel leading to the center of rich silver mine. He warned that if the Ojibwe tribe were ever to tell the White Man of this mine he, Nanna Bijou, would be turned to stone. Thereafter, the Ojibwe became famous for their silver ornaments.
But, as often happens, others learned of this and the Sioux even tortured and killed to learn where the tribe got the silver for their beautiful ornaments.
Unwilling to accept defeat when the Ojibwe refused to divulge the secret, a Sioux warrior disguised himself as an Ojibwe, learned of the mine’s location, and took large pieces of the silver.
Unfortunately, he stopped at a white trader’s for food, and because he had no furs to trade, used a piece of silver instead. The traders filled him with firewater and then persuaded him to lead them to the “silver islet.”
But they were not to succeed. They were within sight of the “Silver Islet” when a terrible storm struck. The white men drowned and the Sioux warrior ended up drifting in a canoe – crazed.
That wasn’t all. According to Native American Legends,
“Where once was a wide opening to the bay, now lay what appeared to be a great sleeping figure of a man. The Great Spirit’s warning had come true and he had been turned to stone.
“Today, partly submerged shaft to what was once the richest silver mine in the northwest, can still be seen. White men have repeatedly attempted to pump out the water that floods in from Lake Superior, but their efforts have been in vain. Is it still under the curse of Nanna Bijou, Spirit of the Deep Sea Water? Perhaps….who can tell?”
OTHER ANIMAL LEGENDS FROM
IMPORTANT CHIPPEWA MYTHOLOGICAL FIGURES
There are other myths that abound among Native American legends and the three I’ve listed below could certainly fire an author’s imagination.
Underwater Panther (Ojibwe name variously spelled Mishibizhiw, Mishibizhii, Mishipeshu, Mishipizheu, and other ways): This is a powerful mythological creature something like a cross between a cougar and a dragon. It is a dangerous monster who lives in deep water and causes men and women to drown.
Mishiginebig (also spelled Mishiginebig, Mishi-Ginebig, Meshkenabec, Msi-Knebik, Kichikinebik, or other ways): An underwater horned serpent, common to the legends of most Algonquian tribes. Its name literally means Great Serpent, and it is laid to lurk in lakes and eat humans.
Animikii or Binesi (also spelled Animiki, Animkii, Nimkii, Bnesi, Bineshi, and other ways): Thunderbird, a giant mythological bird common to the northern and western tribes. Thunder is caused by the beating of their immense wings. Although thunderbirds are very powerful beings, they rarely bother humans, and were treated with reverence by Ojibwe people. Animikii, which means “thunderer,” is pronounced uh-nih-mih-kee, and Binesi, which means “great bird,” is pronounced bih-nay-sih.”
My WIP so far has none of these legends, though it does contain that of the witch tree. I may use one of these, but no more. However, my imagination is working on another story, maybe several, where I can write around one of these most interesting legends.
Joan K. Maze
Writing as J. K. Maze
www.joanmaze.com
http://sleuthingwithmollie.wordpress.com
http://homicideandmayhem.wordpress.com
Murder By Mistake, book 1 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, available as an ebook from Red Rose Publishing, B&N, Fictionwise and Amazon.
Murder By Mistake, book 1 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, available in paperback from Amazon.
Murder For Kicks, book 2 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, available as an ebook from Red Rose Publishing, Fictionwise and Amazon
Framed In Fear, romantic suspense set in Colorado, available as an ebook from Red Rose Publishing, Fictionwise and Amazon
Murder By Spook, book 3 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, in progress

Saratoga Springs: Grand and Gilded

2011-10-07T01:00:00.004-04:00

Looking for a great setting for your gilded age historical? I found one for mine when I recently visited Saratoga Springs, NY.

For much of the 19th century, Saratoga Springs was the “Queen of the Spa” resorts with the added attraction of horse racing and a first rate casino along with proximity to New York City from which it drew a large part of its monied clientele, attracting the likes of the Vanderbilts, Fisks, Goulds and Asters. For a time, it also boasted the largest hotels in the world such as the Grand Union Hotel where congressman, senators and bankers gathered, The United States Hotel where the likes of Vanderbilts, Goulds and Rockfellers held court on the piazza and Congress Hall which hosted the Asters and other old New York scions.

Saratoga Springs and its mineral waters had attracted visitors since the early 1800’s. With concerted efforts on the part of innkeepers and hotel owners, by the 1830’s Saratoga was a fashionable place to go for one’s health but also for "good society" once lectures, entertainment and hops (balls) were added to the fill the days and nights. The 1830’s also saw Saratoga purposely go after gamblers in hopes they would test their skills “at faro and chuck-a-luck in the billiard halls and bowling alleys, and a room was fixed up for roulette.” (Saratoga: Saga of an Impious Era by George Waller).

Before the Civil War, Saratoga had always attracted a lot of southern families who migrated to the cooler north during steamy summer months. Though the Civil War cast a shadow over the place during the war years, as soon as the war ended, the Southern families returned. The New York Times correspondent reported in a June 26, 1865 article that “… I have learned that several families from the South, the avant couriers of a large influx from regions most war-scarred, have engaged rooms here, with the view of enjoying again a luxury long debarred. This points not only to peace, but fraternity. The land longs for the latter, to confirm and complete the former. Both established, and the cup of the people’s joy is full.”

It was really after the Civil War, and after several fires which forced the rebuilding of some of the key hotels in a much grander style, that Saratoga began its opulent phase.

The scale of many of these Saratoga Springs hotels was monumental. The Grand Union was updated several times but in 1875, it claimed a ballroom that was 85 x 60 feet with 27 foot high ceilings from which hung three large crystal chandeliers. Covering seven acres right on Broadway, the main thoroughfare, The Grand Union had over 824 rooms available, some of them cottages which rented for $125 per day. The cottages were used mainly by families but a single bedroom cottage could be a discreet place to house one’s mistress. Fodder for many stories, I’m sure.

The Grand Union

The Grand Union boasted two miles of corridors, twelve acres of carpet and an acre of marble. The Grand Union dining room was capable of handling up to 1400 guests at a sitting " with 35 cooks, 200 waiters, 12 carvers dispensing 1200 quarts of milk, 1500 pounds of beef, 80 chickens and 250 quarts of strawberries" or so the guide book of the day related. (The Grand Union Hotel by Beatrice Sweeny, City Historian Saratoga Springs, New York). Where would you find such grandeur today?

A block down Broadway, The United States Hotel was almost as large encompassing a three-acre park within its boundaries and 768 guest rooms and cottage suites and all equipped with marble washstands and cold running water with some of the suites offering a private bath. It also had a large ballroom and spacious dining room, all superbly appointed. Congress Hall was on a slightly smaller scale but all three lined the main street with large piazza's overlooking Broadway. Seen in one long sweep the hotels made quite an architectural display.

There were enough places to stay that the middle class could find accommodations and rub shoulders with the elite during visits to the springs and, of course, at the many hops that were held. From that stand point, Saratoga was certainly a more “democratic” resort than say Newport where hotel space was limited and one needed a grand home or an invitation to one to be part of its society. Florence Vanderbilt met her husband, a Western Union clerk, amongst the glitter of Saratoga Springs.

In 1877 the Adelphi Hotel was built, squeezed in between the Grand Union and the United States. The Adelphi's piazza also overlooked the street and added to the unified architecture of these great hotels. The Adelphi only had a little more than 150 rooms but it entertained some of Saratoga's elite as well, including John Morrissey, the colorful Tammany Hall politician who helped bring racing and gambling to The Springs. He died at the Adelphi in 1878 with citizens keeping vigil outside its doors.

The Adelphi's smaller stature is what helped save it from the fate of it's bigger sister hotels. As modern conveniences such as elevators, electrical wiring, indoor plumbing, central heating, phones, etc. were required by vacationers, updating such mammoth palaces became financially prohibitive. With travel made easier, more options opened up. By the 1920's these grande dames were shadows of their former self. By the forties they were in substantial decline. The United States went up in smoke during that decade and the wrecking ball signaled the demise of the Grand Union in 1953.

The Adelphi's lobby

The Adelphi, however, managed to hang in there and in 1977 the current owners purchased it and started to restore it to it's former glory. Today, you can get a taste of the grandeur of Saratoga's Gilded Age with a stay at the Adelphi where all modern conveniences await you as you step back in time. We stayed at the Adelphi during our visit in a beautifully appointed Queen suite and savored every wonderful minute of it.

Next month I will have more on some of the colorful visitors who called Saratoga Spring home during the summer season. So I ask you again, where could we find such grandeur today?

Anne Carrole writes about cowboys who have grit, integrity and little romance on their mind—and the women who love them. You can check out her contemporary romance, Re-ride at the Rodeo, at www.annecarrole.com. She also is co-editor of the review website, www.lovewesternromances.com

INDULGING OUR FANTASIES

2011-10-06T00:25:00.017-04:00

19th Century cabin

One of the greatest things about writing is that authors are able to indulge their own fantasies. One of mine is that I would have loved living in the West during the last part of the 1800’s. Maybe! At least until the weather was severe and I had no central heat/air, no clean bathroom with running water, no antibiotics, and on and on. It’s a romantic time to consider, which is why I love writing romances set in the American West (probably much more than I would like returning to that time).

Maureen O'Hara

Another of my fantasies is that I wanted to look like the young Maureen O’Hara. More’s the pity, for I look nothing like her. But we’re talking about fantasies, right? This is why Cenora Rose O’Neill, the heroine of my 2010 western romance, THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE, strongly resembles Miss O’Hara in appearance. What authors can’t accomplish ourselves, we accomplish through our characters.

When the infamous 1845 Irish potato famine struck and millions in Ireland literally starved to death, there was a mass immigration of Irish into the United States. But the O’Neill family didn’t lose their land in the famine. They were turned off many years later by a spiteful landlord. Due to her lack of schooling, Cenora cannot read cursive and reads only a few words in print. Her father, Sean O’Neill, can read a newspaper (slowly), and has done all the reading for his family and their traveling companions. On the other hand, the McClintocks value education, and Dallas McClintock reads most evenings. This difference causes only one of the many conflicts that arise in the book.

Irish cottage

When forced off their plot of Irish land with only what they could carry, Cenora and her family fell in with a group of Irish Travelers. The Travelers, or tinkers, are not gypsies but are descended from medieval minstrels and poets who traveled Ireland telling myths and stories. In medieval times, the minstrels and poets were respected and learned. Many Irish families turned out of their homes drifted in with the traveling minstrels, eventually becoming the Irish Travelers--not so respected or learned. Travelers have their own language (cant), Sheldroo, which--amazingly enough--is linked by scholars to medieval language. They camped in fields at first. Later they acquired tents, then the colorful wagons that resemble gypsy wagons, such as the ones used in my novel. Like people everywhere, some Irish Travelers are good, some are bad. The same is true for those portrayed in THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE.

Irish fields

The 19th and early 20th century Traveler wagons are unbelievably compact, and are brightly painted inside and out in red, blue and green with yellow pinstripes. Seeing them in several museums brought home the skill and functionality of these wagons. That describes the two wagons acquired by the O’Neills through their ability to play instruments while Cenora sings for crowds when they pass through towns. Unfortunately, Sean O’Neill’s only abilities are playing music and the gift of gab--not much to supply a family’s needs. His sons Finn and Mac trade ponies for a bit of extra coin and the family barely gets by. On the other hand, rancher Dallas McClintock has a strong work ethic and sense of honor. You can see more trouble looming, can’t you?
In THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE, Cenora Rose O’Neill knows her father somehow arranged the trap for Dallas McClintock, but she agrees to wed the handsome stranger. She’d do anything to protect her family, and she wants to save herself from the bully Tom Williams. She believes a fine settled man like Dallas will rid himself of her soon enough, but at least she and her family will be safely away from Williams.

Texas rancher Dallas McClintock has no plans to wed for several years. Right now, he’s trying to establish himself as a successful horse breeder. Severely wounded rescuing Cenora from kidnappers, Dallas is taken to her family’s wagon to be tended. He is trapped into marrying Cenora, but he is not a man who ever goes back on his word. His wife has a silly superstition for everything, but passion-filled nights with her make up for everything—even when her wild, eccentric family nearly drives him crazy.

I hope you’ll read and enjoy THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE. The gorgeous cover is one of my favorites. The buy link for THE TEXAN’S IRISH BRIDE is www.thewildrosepress.com/caroline-clemmons-m-638.html in print and e-download, and it’s also available at Amazon and other online stores. My website is http://www.carolineclemmons.com/. Other books at The Wild Rose Press are the contemporary romance HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME, historical SAVE YOUR HEART FOR ME, and paranormal time travel OUT OF THE BLUE. My backlist is now available on Smashwords and Amazon Kindle for 99 cents each, and so is my new mystery, ALMOST HOME.

The Staff of Life in the Middle Ages

2011-10-03T00:01:00.013-04:00

This is where it all started, the 1963 movie, Tom Jones. Albert Finney (Tom Jones) licks his chicken bones and Joyce Redman (Mrs Waters) looks like she's making love to an apple. It showed that playing with your food could be fun and anything edible will do! But what was a banquet really like?

The extravagant feasts and banquets of the Middle Ages are legendary. However, while menus for the wealthy were extensive, only small portions were taken. Hosts were expected to offer extensive choices. With more extensive travel, a change in society emerged, possibly prompted by the Crusades, that led to a new and unprecedented interest in beautiful objects and elegant manners. This change extended to food preparation and presentation and resulted in fabulous food arrangements with exotic colors and flavorings. Banquets prepared during the Middle Ages were fit for a king.

Staffing and Presenting the Banquet

The kitchen squires where responsible for provisioning the kitchen. Assisted by the cooks, they chose, purchased, and paid for the goods.

The food was plated on the serving dishes and staged in the kitchen until it was time to bring to the tables in the Great Hall.

The Noble of the castle, and his distinguished guests, sat at a great table that was set on a raised platform, a dais, at one of the hall.

Buffets were tables with a series of wooden stepped shelves. The number of shelves indicated the host’s rank. The more shelves the higher the rank. The 'Stepped Buffets' were covered with rich drapes and used at banquets and feasts. The Nobles impressed their guests by using their finest gold or silver plates as service plates on the buffet.

The banquet feast consisted of three, four, five, and even six courses. At times the presentations of the main courses were made into a theatrical representation with colored jellies of swans or peacocks or pheasants with their feathers. Served as a specialty the beak and feet of these birds were gilt and placed in the middle of the table as a centerpiece.

French Medieval Banquets

The French cooking historian described a great feast given in 1455 by the Count of Anjou, third son of King Louis II of Sicily. This description demonstrates just how theatrical a presentation can be:

“On the table was placed a centre-piece, which represented a green lawn, surrounded with large peacocks' feathers and green branches, to which were tied violets and other sweet-smelling flowers.

In the middle of this lawn a fortress was placed, covered with silver.

The fortress was hollow, and formed a sort of cage, in which several live birds were shut up, their tufts and feet being gilt.

On its tower, which was gilt, three banners were placed.

The first course consisted of a civet of hare, a quarter of stag which had been a night in salt, a stuffed chicken, and a loin of veal.

The two last dishes were covered with a German sauce, with gilt sugar-plums, and pomegranate seeds.

At each end, outside the green lawn, was an enormous pie, surmounted with smaller pies, which formed a crown. The crust of the large pies were silvered all round and gilt at the top.

Each pie contained a whole roe-deer, a gosling, three capons, six chickens, ten pigeons, one young rabbit, and, no doubt to serve as seasoning or stuffing, a minced loin of veal, two pounds of fat, and twenty-six hard-boiled eggs, covered with saffron and flavoured with cloves.

For the three following courses, there was a roe-deer, a pig, a sturgeon cooked in parsley and vinegar, and covered with powdered ginger.

The feast continued with a kid goat, two goslings, twelve chickens, as many pigeons, six young rabbits, two herons, a leveret, a fat capon stuffed, four chickens covered with yolks of eggs and sprinkled with spice, a wild boar, some wafers and stars and a jelly, part white and part red represented the crests of the honored guests, cream covered with fennel seeds and preserved in sugar, a white cream, cheese in slices, and strawberries, and, lastly, plums stewed in rose-water

Besides these four courses, there was a fifth, entirely of wines then in vogue, and of preserves. These consisted of fruits and various sweet pastries.”

I researched medieval banquets when I wrote Knight of Runes. Eating is fundamental and enjoyable. While Arik and Rebeka don’t get it on quite like Tom and Mrs. Waters there is definitely an air of the playfulness in the scene. The trouble with watching that scene is I really get hungry. I’ll let you figure out for what!

Ruth A. Casie

Pre-Sale Now Available for Knight of Runes

A Renaissance Festival Celebration

2011-09-30T13:51:00.002-04:00

Every year my husband and I take our kids to the Renaissance Festival (and if we can get away from them, we'll go again just the two of us!)

It is this time during the year that I can immerse myself, literally, in the time period I love, and mingle with others who are just as obsessed with history, royals, mead, turkey legs, jousting, etc... While I don't dress up (yet), I do dress up my little pretties.

This year, we wanted to get our entire family involved, and we did pretty well! Since one of our daughters has a September birthday, we invited the whole family to join us in celebrating her birth at the Renaissance Festival. We had 7 of our family members take us up on it! It was a blast, and I can say it was probably one of the most fun times I've had at the festival because I was able to share my love of history and festival activities with more people.

For my post today, I thought I'd share with you some of the pics I took. Have you been to a Renn Fest lately?

Me and the DH being silly (yes he is the Queen and I am the King)

My and my girls after the three of them were presented to Henry VIII's court.

The oldest princess on a pony

My husband and oldest princess in the front, and his brother and my youngest princess in the back--riding and elephant (My husband is VERY tall--his brother is about 6 ft., we made fun of how my B-I-L looked so small next to him.)

My sister, her sig and my 2nd princess on an elephant.

The DH in the stocks :)

Baby Birthday Princess was WIPED out. She slept for about an hour as the rest of us continued our festival fun.

Couldn't get this pic to turn... but that is a giant sundae :)

The 2nd Princess in the stocks for being a gossip :)

*~*~*~*

Eliza Knight is a multi-published author of historical romance and erotic romance. Visit her at www.elizaknight.com

Available now! A Lady's Charade -- An I-Books (I-Tunes/Apple) Top 100 Popular Romance Novel!

From across a field of battle, English knight, Alexander, Lord Hardwyck, spots the object of his desire--and his conquest, Scottish traitor Lady Chloe.

Her lies could be her undoing…

Abandoned across the border and disguised for her safety, Chloe realizes the man who besieged her home in

Scotland has now become her savior in

England. Her life in danger, she vows to keep her identity secret, lest she suffer his wrath, for he wants her dead.

Or love could claim them both and unravel two countries in the process…

Alexander suspects Chloe is not who she says she is and has declared war on the angelic vixen who's laid claim to his heart. A fierce battle of the minds it will be, for once the truth is revealed they will both have to choose between love and duty.

Available as an ebook (in all formats) or in print.

Something about Welsh

2011-09-29T00:03:00.009-04:00

As you have no doubt noticed over the past months, I have a particular preference for any and all things Welsh. So, as a treat, I am going to give a short lesson on the Welsh language. I thought you might enjoy learning a few phrases to slip into your conversations when you visit this country so that you can impress your hosts.

One of my favorite idioms is dros ben llestri: literally, 'over heads of dishes'. When someone goes dros ben llestri, they've gone over the top. Pronounced pretty close to the way it looks: drohs ben llestri - double L is aspirated: put your tongue at the roof of your mouth just behind your teeth and force the L sound out in a hiss.

Another saying is cadw cwn a chyfarth ei hun: keeps dogs and barks himself. This describes someone who won't allow anyone to help him, has to be in control of situations. Sound familiar? This phrase is pronounced cah-doo coon ah chyvahrth eye heen - ch is as in loch - aspirated.

When it seems that all good things (or bad) seem to end up in someone else's life, you could say i'r pant rhediff y dwr: to the gully runs the water. Sounds like 'ear pant rhediff uh doer'. Rh is aspirated. In English, some of us say an H in front of the W in words like when, why, where. This is never a heavy sound, more like an exhaled sigh. It's the same in Welsh. A soft H in front of the R.

These days, a lot of people around the world are ar y clwt, literally, on the rag - destitute. Remember that W and Y are both consonants and vowels in Welsh. In this case, the pronunciation is close to what it looks like: ahr uh cloot.

Greeting people in Wales with Shw mae? is always acceptable. It's like asking What's up? or How goes it? Shw is a corruption of sut (sit) which means how. Mae is a form of the verb bod = 'to be'. Shw mae (shoo my) means 'how is'.

All Welsh vowels are Italianate - open and strong which is why Welsh is such a lovely language to sing. If you'd like to know more about Welsh folk music, the National Museum of Wales has a fantastic archive. You can also see examples of Welsh music at Cronfa. The American, Phyllis Kinney, has dedicated her life to Welsh folk music. She and her husband, Meredydd Evans, are renown for their academic work in Welsh traditional music.

People always ask me if I found Welsh hard to learn. Since I've now spoken it on a daily basis, I have to answer No, but in my first days and weeks, I couldn't get my tongue around words like rhwngwladol at all. One of the best ways to learn any language is to sing in it. In my forthcoming novel, The Gatekeeper, Gwennan teaches Jehan-Emíl to sing a simple song to help him learn her language. Learning Welsh for me was one of the most life-altering things I've ever done - for one thing, I would never have written Traitor's Daughter.

Trac is a good place to begin an exploration of Welsh traditional music and dance. This organization is also on Facebook so you can get to know the people who are promoting: The future of the tradition and the tradition of the future.

Thank you for reading. If you have any questions, please let me know.

The Seminoles in Florida and Beyond

2011-09-28T00:00:00.006-04:00

In 1513, Spain claimed the land now known as Florida. At that time, more than 200,000 natives lived on the peninsula. By the time of the American Revolution in 1776, disease and warfare had reduced the native population to less than 40,000. More thousands had been made into slaves by English settlers starting in 1704.

By 1813, the United States had plans to clear lands for new settlement. The natives were in the way. The Creek War in Alabama forced the Creeks to give up millions of acres. Many Creek Indians fled to Spanish Florida where they joined with native tribes living there. The combined tribes became known as the Seminoles. This name means “wild people” or “runaways.” Many slaves who ran away from Southern plantations also found a home with the native people in Spanish Florida.

Their hope for safety did not last long. By 1817, the U. S. military entered Florida to protect new American settlers on Indian land. They also searched for the runaway slaves. These battles fought under General Andrew Jackson became known as the Seminole Wars. For the next forty-one years, conflicts between American troops and the natives of Florida continued.

This time of war was marked by several unsuccessful treaties. The 1823 Ft. Moultrie Treaty required the Seminole to cede all their lands except for a small central reservation. The treaty of Payne's Landing nine years later set the timetable for removing the entire tribe west of the Mississippi River. Heavy resistance to this treaty under the leadership of Tribal leader Osceola lead to the second Seminole War in 1835. This war lasted eight years with 1500 American troop deaths including the massacre of 100 men in one battle. The number of Seminole deaths in unrecorded.

The Seminole Nation removed to the West became part of the Five Civilized Tribes in Indian Territory. When they agreed to outside settlement in the territory in 1908, the Nation numbered 2,138, many with mixed blood of the escaped slaves who found refuge with them in earlier years. A separate number of "Seminole Freedmen" was counted at 986. A refuge band of Seminoles of mostly former slave blood settled in Mexico across the Rio Grande from Eagle Pass, Texas.

During that time, Florida became a United States territory. In 1843, it became the 27th state. More than 5000 of the Seminole people had been forced west of the Mississippi after being hunted down with bloodhounds They were herded like cattle onto ships to New Orleans and up the Mississippi River. About 200 to 300 of them were able to flee into the swampy wilderness of the Everglades. There they managed to survive alligators, mosquitos, snakes, suffocating heat and malaria to stay hidden until the 1890s. Today more than 2000 Seminoles live on six reservations in Florida.

My Question for September contest: What future president earned fame during the Seminole Wars?

BIO: Barbara Scott is the author of several romances includingCast a Pale Shadow, Haunts of the Heart, and Listen with Your Heart. Her most recent West of Heaven earned the following quote from Romancing the Book: "Barbara Scott blends the perfect amount of suspense, romance, history, and humor into a wonderfully engaging novel. I definitely recommend this novel with 4 stars (Lovely Rose!) and two thumbs up! " Barbara's next release Talk of the Town is a contemporary romantic comedy due out October 1, 2011.

Devon

2011-09-27T08:51:00.000-04:00

Clovelly is a very old fishing village in Devon clinging to the side of a cliff. A place where the people clung to life equally perilously as they harvested fish in all kinds of weather.

This is the Red Lion hotel where we stayed and as you can see we were blessed with lovely weather. It was once several fishermen's cottages and was joined together to form an inn a great many years ago.

Early records of the village date back to Saxon times, but it has been around in something like its present form since the 16th century. If you haven't visited Clovelly, then hopefully these pictures give you a sense of this charming spot.

The population in the village in 1801, my interest being the Regency, was 714 people and a great many of these would have been children, since families were large and the number of cottages is quite small.

The hillside is very steep so you must have to go up very slowly and you will have to take lots of breaks, but first may I suggest a small libation at the bar in the Red Lion. We also had a crab sandwich for lunch, which was delicious.

To get down to the hotel by car (as only hotel guests are permitted to do), we used what is called The Turnpike road, which in the old days was very steep and very rough and it is this way that the supplies were delivered to the village at the very bottom of the hill, only to be have to then carried up to the houses.

This is the cobbled alleyway that leads from Turnpike at the back of the Red Lion to the harbour side of the pier.

And here is the harbour as it appeared to us the day we arrived. You can see that the tide is out.

I have to say that we were enchanted with this village which looks across to Wales.

My question for you is, do you have any idea how they would have brought goods from the bottom of the hill or the harbour up those steep roads to the town?

Until next time, Happy Rambles

Historical Romances: Likes and Pet Peeves

2011-09-26T01:01:00.000-04:00

I had a great post for you from the suggestion of one of our readers who said the Liturgical Year would make more sense if people understood the Liturgical Day. Unfortunately, it’s on a flash drive at home and I’m not there. However, I thought we could have some fun today talking about likes and dislikes, as well as things that just create wall-bangers for some of us. I’ve mentioned a few of mine on the HHRW General Loop a few times. One of my main dislikes is obviously someone trying to cast 20^th century mores in an 11^th century world; writers who don’t understand the historical ramifications of Last Rites using them as a plot tool and creating the ultimate sinner; people who say, “You won’t use a word that works because someone told them it is too new…” Sorry, I don’t speak Old French and I doubt most would understand Old English or Latin. These are only a few, but I didn’t want to take them all and leave none for you.

I have likes too! I love an Historical Romance that takes me through the gamut of emotions and doesn’t read like a history lesson. I love historical situations that drive the plot, so that I’m not reading a book that could be written in any era and still turn out the same way. I don’t have a problem with the historicals of the late 70’s and 80’s that many call bodice busters… Except for one, and I won’t name the title but the book took the hero and heroine around the world by ship and put them in some of the most ridiculous scenarios that the nearly 500 page (or was it 600?) took me forever to read.

So have fun and share with us today, whether reader or writer, let us know what you like or dislike.

Mary McCall

Musée de Cluny

2011-09-25T12:53:00.073-04:00

Awesome is too tame a word to describe the wonder of Musée National du Moyen Age (aka/Musee de Cluny). Located in the 5th District of Paris near the Sorbonne, it was originally built in the 14th century as a town house for Benedictine Abbots, on the site of Gallo Roman baths. In 1843 the building became a National Museum of Medieval and Renaissance treasures.

With our love of European history, Cluny was on our must see list of places to visit during last fall's trip to Paris. From our apartment in Les Halles, we took the Metro to the Cluny La Sorbonne station, with its artistically rendered mosaics and signatures of famous authors, poets, philosophers, artists, and statesmen adorning the ceiling. From there we walked a few blocks to a Starbucks where, seated amid masses of studying and debating college students, we breakfasted on coffee and croissants.

Another short walk in the cool October air took us to the Cluny museum. After checking our coats, we walked through the gift shop and stepped into the first of a multitude of galleries filled with medieval masterpieces.

For hours we strolled through room after room of art and artifacts - paintings, chalices, statues, and ornamentation of the medieval churches.

A large room with black walls and dim lights holds the Lady and Unicorn tapestries, a series of six Flemish tapestries woven from silk and wool in the late 15th century. Each tapestry depicts one of the senses - taste, hearing, sight, touch, and smell. The sixth depicts love or desire. We stood in silence, in wonder, and in awe.

Another room held an intriguing relic, a unicorn's horn, so stated on the small sign below it. Other galleries held knights' armor, chainmail, and weapons.

In an adjoining building but still within the museum, we came to the ruins of the Gallo-Roman baths and other statues dating from the 3rd century.

Although the guidebooks say to allow one hour to tour Cluny, we were there for well over three hours and could have stayed the entire day. If you have a love of medieval history, I urge you to find a way to visit Musée de Cluny. It will remain in your heart forever.

Debra K. Maher
Stringing Beads

Idaho Hotel-Silver City

2011-09-24T00:01:00.000-04:00

Backside of the hotel and other buildings

When Lauri Robinson approached me about writing a “sisters” book together I jumped on the idea. As we chatted back and forth establishing their background and how the story would end we needed a town that the family would be traveling to at the start of the book. Preferably a mining town between where your two sisters would end up.

Tink on the Idaho Hotel porch

After some digging I came up with Silver City, Idaho. It was up and running in the time frame we needed. A discovery of gold on War Eagle Mountain in 1865 started the influx of miners and merchants. The failure of the Bank of California, which funded most of the mines, caused the mines to stop work in 1875. But some carried on until and there was a short revival in 1890. Mining didn't come to a complete shut down but irrigation and agriculture increased in the lower valley around the Snake River and the mountain towns dwindled.

Only a few people remain in Silver City today and mostly during the summer because the road to the mountain town is closed by snow from October to May.

When Lauri and I decided on using this town in our book, Tink(my dog) and I took a road trip to see how the stage coaches approached the town and what it looked like in the small valley near the top of the mountain.

old stamp mill

There are still some original buildings. The one that impressed me the most was The Idaho Hotel. It has a welcoming wide front porch that spans fifty-eight feet, it's three stories tall, and has beautiful woodwork inside. The current owners are restoring it to its original condition.

When it was built it was considered one of the best hotels in the Idaho Territory. It boasted a large dining room, kitchen, fifty guest rooms and a beautiful mahogany bar. It had a bath house and the backside is up against Jordan Creek. That back area was a Chinese laundry. Running water was piped into the hotel in 1869 and in 1878 the owner built an electric plant on Jordan Creek to illuminate the hotel and other businesses.

In 1871 a bar and additional rooms were added onto the east end. On July 4th in 1873 the townsfolk shot off a cannon in celebration and chattered a third of the window glass in the hotel. This gave the owners the nudge to remodel. The enlarged and improved by adding a woodshed, a large kitchen and two rooms over the barroom. In 1874 they add the costliest and handsomest mirror to ever travel to Silver City in the bar.

The hotel was also the depot for all the stage and express lines.

For a Sister's Love blurb:

Lorelei and Maggie Holmes make a desperate vow to reunite after an Indian raid on their wagon train leaves them orphans. Eight-year-old Lorelei is taken in by an impoverished family headed to a Colorado mining town and ten-year-old Maggie finds herself on the way to Portland, Oregon to live with a woman widowed during the Indian attack.

Ten years later, Lorelei’s adoptive father gambles away her birth mother’s locket and her only connection to her lost sister. Believing she needs the locket and to find Maggie, she sets out after the gambler and ends up in the company of a citified lawyer searching for the same man.

While cleaning a hotel room, Maggie discovers her mother’s locket in the possession of a gambler. Fear for her sister increases Maggie's determination. Never one to give up, she dogs the gambler until he agrees to help her find her sister.

Two sisters, two adventures, will they find one another or will the men helping them be their destinies?

This book is available at Kindle, Smashwords, and Nook for $.99

Paty

http://www.patyjager.net/

http://www.patyjager.blogspot.com/

Alexandra: The Early Years

2011-09-23T00:01:00.001-04:00

By Emma Westport

In June 1884, Princess Alix, from the small duchy of Hesse and by Rhine, came to St. Petersburg to celebrate the marriage of her sister, Ella, to the Tsar’s brother, the Grand Duke Serge. The young girl was related to most of the nobility of Europe, many of whom she’d never met and all of whom were in attendance. At a family dinner, she found herself seated next to her handsome, blue-eyed cousin, the sixteen-year-old Tsarevich, Nicholas Romanov. Before dinner was over, Alix was in love. So was he. That night, Nicholas wrote in his diary. “I sat next to little twelve year old Alix and I like her awfully much.”

For the rest of her stay, Alix spent time with her cousin. They walked in the parks around Peterhof, laughed together and etched their names in the window of the Italian House. Nicholas gave her a brooch, which she at first accepted. But before she left, she gave it back feeling, perhaps, she was too young for such an expensive gift.

By the time Alix returned to Russia in 1889, it was clear to both families that there was something more than a childish infatuation at play. The formidable Queen Victoria opposed the match. She liked Nicholas well enough. She thought him a charming young man. But she did not want to see a favorite grandchild on the dangerous throne of Russia. Nicholas’s grandfather had been brutally murdered by an assassin’s bomb and his father Tsar Alexander III had also been the target of assassination attempts. No. Victoria pressed Alix to marry ‘Eddy,’ eldest son of the Prince of Wales. Victoria believed Alix would be a steadying influence on the young man and she wanted Alix to be Queen of England. Alix refused the match.

Tsar Alexander III and his wife also opposed a marriage. The Tsar felt Nicholas was already too timid. He did not want to see his son married to a wife with the same failing. Worse, Alix often hid her shyness behind a cold smile and curt manner. The Tsarina, Maria Feodorovna, feared this would make Alix unpopular. She would never be loved or accepted by the Russian people.

Thing changed when the Tsar became ill. The prospect of his own death made the Tsar realize Nicholas needed someone by his side. Queen Victoria continued to oppose their marriage but Nicholas now had his parents’ permission to at least court Alix. Aided by Alix’s sister, Ella, wife of Grand Duke Serge, Nicholas began writing to her.

It did not go well. Both wanted to marry but marriage to the Tsarevich would make Alix Russia’s Tsarevna and that meant she had to be a member of the Russian Orthodox Church. Alix could not bring herself to renounce her Lutheran beliefs, not even for the man she loved. Nicholas was stunned but Ella told him not to worry. A solution would be found. And it was. Alix was told both churches held many beliefs in common. No ‘renunciation’ was necessary. She would simply join the Orthodox Church. Alix accepted Nicholas and their engagement was announced.

The happy couple had a short time together before Nicholas had to return to Russia. Alix went to England but, even as she traveled, she was followed by reporters and gawkers. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the beautiful girl who would rule the Russian Empire. She went to Harrogate under an assumed name, seeking privacy and treatment for the sciatica that would plague her throughout her life. Her identity was soon discovered. She wrote to Nicholas, and joked about the people who stared at her. Next time, she said, she’d know to stick her tongue out at them.

In fact, her new celebrity frightened the shy Princess. Total strangers tried to peer in her windows, some using opera glasses. She couldn’t go out her front door or take a carriage without being followed. Shopping became impossible. Any store she entered was instantly mobbed and it was not just the loss of privacy that made her uneasy. Pain crippled her legs, limiting her mobility and confining her to a wheelchair. There was no way she could escape if a crowd proved unruly.

Meanwhile, the Tsar’s condition worsened. Nicholas telegraphed Alix, asking her to come. Alexander III insisted on getting up from his bed to meet his future daughter-in-law and nothing but his full dress uniform would do. But the man who used to bend steel bars to amuse his children was exhausted by the effort of standing and putting it on. Barely able to breathe, he met Alix sitting down. She came in and knelt before him.

The Tsar died on November 1, 1894. After the state funeral, Nicholas took advantage of his mother’s birthday, a day when mourning was suspended, to marry Alix. On November 26, 1894, the twenty two year old Princess became Her Imperial Majesty, Tsarina of all the Russias, Alexandra Feodorovna. On the morning after her wedding night Alexandra wrote in her husband’s diary. “Never did I believe there could be such utter happiness in the world, such a feeling unity between two mortal beings. I love you—those three words have my life in them.”

It was the start of one of the most tragic love affairs in history.

(For photos and images of Alexandra, please try the following links. If they do not work, simply cut and paste them in your browser.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AgB8bIAYv0&feature=related

http:/youtube.com/watch?v=daUg0KVbxE0

The quote above is from Greg King’s biography, The Last Empress: The Life and Times of Alexandra Feodorovna, Tsarina of Russia. Carolyn Erickson’s Alexandra, The Last Tsarina is also very readable.)

Historical Inaccuracies

2011-09-22T02:51:00.000-04:00

One of the things I love most about writing historicals is the research, but it can also be the most irritating task. I have spent that last few months researching words, Kansas orphan laws, screen doors, cellars, stone houses, barb wire, Pinkerton Detectives, coal mines, railways and trains. Of course, I'm sure there are plenty more that I can't think of right now, like clothing, roofing and horses. Oh, I even researched dates for hymnals.

And wouldn't you know it that I didn't even consider whether or not peaches were in season during the manuscript I just submitted. Of course, this little tidbit didn't dawn on me until a discussion occurred on one of my writer's loops, which brought up another fact that I had failed to research . . .

which Bible translation to use in my historical. I've never read anything other than New International. Who knew that the NIV didn't come into existence until the late 1960s? Certainly not me. Boy, was I embarrassed. But I have been assured by at least one person that my little faux pas won't cause the historically-accurate, lynching mob after me.

So, have you ever discovered an inaccuracy after the fact? If so, what was it? What kinds of historical inaccuracies in books drive you absolutely nuts?

Happy Thursday,

Christina

THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT...

2011-09-20T01:12:00.008-04:00

“From ghoulies and ghosties

And long-leggedy beasties

And things that go bump in the night,

Good Lord, deliver us!”

Traditional Scottish Prayer

After watching this year’s Emmy Show I was surprised with how out of touch I have been with network television. I do have a few guilty pleasures on the small screen especially now as the days grow shorter and the weather becomes crisp with the promise of snow in the air. Two favorite shows of guilty pleasure are the Science Fiction channel’s GHOST HUNTERS and GHOST HUNTERS INTERNATIONAL. I tell myself I am only watching for ideas for paranormal plots but the truth is I want to believe there is tangible evidence of the paranormal. Though I have no supernatural abilities myself I do remember when I was 7 my father turning white at my brother’s christening party and my mother being scared. I later learned, while in the kitchen getting ice my dad was confronted by his mother, except my grandmother had just died two short weeks before. Seems she had come back to see that my baby brother and my family were fine before she could pass over.

On my first visit to Scotland back in 1994 I had planned to visit Roslyn Chapel near Edinburgh after reading THE SWORD AND THE GRAIL by Andrew Sinclair. I was fascinated with the then belief of the chapel’s connection to the Knights Templar and the Holy Grail. After at least a week of tromping through graveyards looking for lost ancestors my husband willingly agreed going the Chapel would a nice change of pace. Unfortunately it didn’t turn out that way for my husband. We entered the Chapel and I was hit was a major sensory overload as to where to look, but after a while I realized my husband was nowhere to be found. I walked outside to find him smoking, weird because he had given it up years before. I asked him to come back in, as I wanted to show him the death mask of Robert Bruce but he refused. I could see he was upset so thinking I could come back later for a church service we left. Finally that night he admitted that he felt while in the chapel as he if he was being chocked and pushed to a dark corner of the chapel. He didn’t get relief until he left the chapel. Since then, I have returned four more times over the years, but he has flatly refused to not only to go in the chapel but refuse to enter the grounds.

Scotland rich in Celtic legends of fairy folk, brownies, kelpies, and witches is a vortex for all kinds of paranormal activities from ghost sightings, to hauntings, to Nessie and even UFO’s (Scotland has more sightings than anywhere in the world). As we approach the final month of the Celtic calendar I wanted to share two of my favorite haunted places in Scotland:

“Bluidy Mackingie, come oot if you daur, left the sneck and draw the bar.”

Greyfairs Kirkyard and the Covenanters Prison:

I first visited here in 1994 on my first trip. Having been raised on all the old Walt Disney movies of the 60’s I had to see where the famous Greyfrairs Bobby was buried. For those of you who don’t know about this wonderful dog, when his owner died he would sneak into the Kirkyard and lay upon his owner’s grave. He was chased off daily but because of his unique loyalty to his owner even in death, he was cared for by the community and allowed to visit his master until he too died. In great Disney fashion, Bobby was buried near his master and the children of the US pooled their money to have a special monument erected for just for Bobby. At the time I first visited one couldwalk the grounds even in the grounds of the Covenanters Prison (17^th century), which was turned into a graveyard.

However, all that changed in 1999. As the story goes a vagrant had somehow gotten into the Kirkyard, which was normally locked in the evening. Thinking to find a warm place to bed down for the night he entered George Mackenzie’s Tomb.

George Mackenzie, or “Bluidy Mackenzie” as he was later known, was Scotland’s chief Advocate for King Charles II and it was he who had over 1200 Covenanter prisoners (men, women and children) brought to Edinburgh and imprisoned in the field which is now the Kirkyard. Of the 1200 within 5 months of living out in the open, exposed to the Scottish weather only 257 remained alive. It is noted that Mackenzie took great pleasure in hanging and torturing the Covenanters hence his name.

Unfortunately while in the tomb, the vagrant fell through a floor in the tomb and landed on a mass grave of moldy bones, which were later determined to be plague victims. Scared out of his wits the man fled the tomb scaring the night watchman who heard the commotion. It was later learned that the vagrant had opened one of the caskets in the tomb probably looking for grave goods and in doing so it is believed he unleashed the spirit of Mackenzie. From 1999 forward over 400 members of the public have been attacked while on the Prison grounds. These attacks have included pushing, poking that left bruises and scratches, being knocked down and even knocked unconscious. Most of the attacks occur in or near the Black Mausoleum, which was once part of the prison but it is believed that these are the actions of the poltergeist of Mackenzie. The attacks have become so frequent that the Edinburgh Council has locked the Prison to visitors and is only opened for organized tours, which are not open to those with heart conditions or who are pregnant, those who are most often attacked. The mausoleum has been exorcized twice and one of exorcists died of a heart attack only two weeks after he performed the exorcism.

Hermitage Keep at Newcastleton, Scottish Borders... “SOD Off IN STONE”

The ruins of the Keep are a stark reminder of the type of stone keeps that scattered the Borders of Scotland from the 12^th thru the 17^th century Scotland. Though on the outside the keep seems to be in excellent condition, the interior has all but been destroyed by Border warfare and the elements. A keep or castle has been on the spot since the early 1200’s and the occupiers have been both Scottish and English, depending on the ebb and flow of warfare on the Anglo/Scottish Borders.

I visited the Keep in 2007 because the third book in my Scottish trilogy is plotted here. If you remember my post on Black Agnes last month you might remember that the siege at Dunbar was saved by Sir Alexander Ramsay and Hermitage is where he met his demise. In 1338, Sir William Douglas of Liddesdale captured the keep from the English commander Ralph de Neville and the Douglas family took control of the keep and surrounding area. However, King David II had decided to reward Sir Alex Ramsay by naming him sheriff of Teviotdale including Hermitage. Enraged by the slight from his King, Douglas lured Ramsay to the Keep where he threw him in the dungeon, which was a dank place with no air or sunlight and eventually starved him to death. Some of the ghostly sounds heard by visitors to the Keep are believed to be that of Ramsay as he attempts to claw himself out of the dungeon. Douglas was later named sheriff and suffered no penalty in Ramsay’s death. But Alexander isn’t the only ghost.

From 1274-1328 the keep was held by one Sir William de Soulis, who was reputed to be a practitioner of the black arts and was able to conjure up his familiar on Robin Redcap to do his dirty work. Soulis was said to have lured young children of the district and used their blood in his horrific rituals. The community was so fed up with the knight that they petitioned King Robert Bruce to remove him from the Keep, but Bruce tired of their complaints replied…

“ Boil him if you must, but let me hear no more of him.”

The people did just as the king wished; they captured him, wrapped de Soulis in lead and placed him head first in a boiling cauldron and kept him there until he died. Many visitors today believe that when they here the sobbing of young children while in the Keep the ghost of Solis is nearby.

And finally, for those of you who are into the Vampire Diaries, True Blood or the Twilight saga you won’t be disappointed to hear that Scotland has vampires too. Though I’m not a fan of vampire fiction I was surprised to learn that a vampire was sighted in the area around Lochmaben in Dumfries in recent years. Lochmaben once a keep of the Bruce family was the sight of a curse levied upon the Bruce family. In the 1200’s the Bruces were forced to move from Annan to Lochmaben because of a flood. The story is told of a visit by the Irish monk, St. Malachy who asked Lord Bruce to spare a thief from a hanging. Bruce complied or so the monk thought but as he passed by Lochmaben he saw the same thief hanging dead and placed a curse on the Bruce family. A curse that was taken seriously as they dedicated land in Annan with its rents went to pay for the upkeep of the shrine of St Malachy at the Cistercian house at Clairvaux. However, the area was to suffer from the plague in later years and many believe the vampire is a result of the curse and plague. The vampire seen in recent years is dressed like a monk but they know he is present when they find dead animal carcasses devoid of blood. The Scottish Ghost hunter Tom Roberston, has encountered the vampire at Lochmaben and has photos of the vampire in his book GHOST HUNTER: ADVENTURES IN THE AFTER LIFE. For everyone who leaves a comment today you will have a chance to win a copy of his book.

But remember the words of Scottish writer J M Barrie..."A house is never still in darkness to those who listen intently; there is a whispering in distant chambers, an unearthly hand presses the snib of the window, the latch rises. Ghosts were created when the first man awoke in the night. "

This week in History

2011-09-19T00:21:00.002-04:00

by Anna Kathryn Lanier

I usually wait until the last minute to do my blog. This week has been hectic, because my mother was hospitalized with pneumonia, so I let the blog get even further away from me.

Anyway, as I need to slap something together for today, I turned to a new book I got a few weeks ago, “365 Great Stories From History For Every Day of the Year.” Anyone who reads my blog knows about this book, as I’ve used it a couple of times for recent blogs. It has a ‘what happened today’ in the past for every day of the year. I looked at the stuff that happened in the next few days….my gosh. What was I doing during history class? How did I miss this stuff?

Today, September 19, 1356, Edward, The Black Prince of England defeated King Jean II of France in one of the early battles of the 100 Year War and took Jean prisoner for four years. (Edward is pictured left)

September 20^th, the start of the Great Papal Schism began when a group of Cardinals, irritated at Pope Urban VI, who went back on his promise to move the Papal back to Avigon from Rome, held a conclave on September 20, 1378 and elected their own pope, Robert of Geneva, who named himself Pope Clement VII. The schism lasted 38 years and 309 days and through several anti-popes, sometimes with 3 or 4 different people claiming to be the pope at the same time. On July 26, 1417, Martin V became the sole Pope when the Council of Constance deposed of one of the pretenders, Benedict XIII.

September 21, 490 b.c. is something about the Greeks annihilating the Persians at Marathon. Yes, you can see, I’m not particularly interested in that, so, please, look it up yourself at The ORB: On-line Reference Book for Medieval Studies Just scroll down a bit to The Battle of Marathon – Preparations.

September 22^nd, “The most barbarous royal murder in history.” Frankly, I think it’s one of the most barbaric ever…royal or otherwise. Warning: This is graphic, so skip to the next entry if you’re squeamish. Queen Isabella of England wasn’t too fond of her wimpish husband, King Edward II (pictured right). 365 Great Stories From History says he was “handsome, silly, weak and dominated by male favourites.” Isabella and her lover, Roger de Mortimer overthrew him and exiled him to Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire. They placed the king in a small, cold cell and fed him scraps, hoping he’d just shrivel up and die. But Edward was stronger than they thought and he did not decline as they’d hope. So, on the night of September 21, 1327, three of the queen’s henchmen entered his cell and held him down on his bed. They then “thrust a red-hot spit up through his anus, burning his internal organs.” Okay, they may not have liked the man, but really, couldn’t they have just poisoned him? At the time of his death, his son was 14. Isabella served as regent until Edward III was of age, three years later. He, unlike his father, wasn’t a wimp. He sent his mother into exile and, as a traitor to the crown, had Mortimer hung, drawn and quartered. Okay, that may be just as barbaric and what they did to Edward II, but at least Mortimer deserved it! Oh, btw, Edward II is the young prince depicted in BRAVEHEART, the one who's lover is thrown out the window by his father, Edward I. Geez, Isabella seems much nicer in that movie!

Also on September 22, 1692, six women and one man was hung in Salem, Massachusetts as witches.

September 23, 480 b.c. ….um, the Greeks knocked the snot out of the Persians again, this time in Salamis. Find out more at the same website as above, The ORB: On-line Reference Book for Medieval Studies. Just scroll down to The Battle of Salamis.

Okay, these are a few tidbits of history for the coming week. Do you have any you’d like to share with us?

BTW, my mom should be fine. They have isolated the germ causing the illness and are giving her antibiotics.

Anna Kathryn Lanier

www.annakathrynlanier.blogspot.com

www.aklanier.com

Contest Survey - Please Help

2011-09-19T00:05:00.000-04:00

PERMISSION TO SHARE GIVEN AND ENCOURAGED

To improve its annual Romance Through The Ages (RTTA) contest, the Hearts Through History chapter of RWA is asking for your opinion of contests in general, and the RTTA in particular. Please go to http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/ZQ35NVC to take our short survey and be entered for a chance to win a free online workshop from Hearts Through History.

My Impressions of Berg Nanstein, A Knight's Castle

2011-09-18T09:24:00.008-04:00

For some historical romance novels, we authors place our heroes and heroines in castles. Just the word castle conjures up images of wealth and opulence. Those images are further enhanced by novels and movies. So I was delighted when I had the opportunity to visit Landstuhl Germany’s Berg Nanstein in person this summer. I wanted to discover the reality of living conditions for a medieval knight and his lady.

From my study of English castles, I knew were built as military structures to protect landed estates and offer a safe haven in time of war. Berg Nanstein was no exception. Begun in the middle twelfth century, Berg Nenstein reflected the aspirations of ambitious knights. The castle served many functions for its various lords. The castle was the lord’s living quarters along with his administrative, economic and court center. It also acted as a school, archive, treasury, arsenal, and if the castle contained a chapel a sacral function. But most importantly, it was an instrument of war – a place to launch war from, and a retreat or safe haven when war turned against the lord.

This castle is one of five castles built around Emperor Frederic Barbarossa’s Kaiserslautern administrative center. It guarded a strategic and important East-West trade crossing. This castle was a typical fortress built on a hilltop with an elongated tongue of walls that ran down the hillside to surround the city below.

When I walked the grounds around the German castle, I was impressed by the fifteen foot high walls with slits for weapons to be fired. Berg Nenstein, the knight’s strong house, was set on a mountain overlooking Laundstuhl. The sheer drop off to the town as well as its moat and imposing wall would have discouraged most enemies in the twelfth century. But when I wound my way up tight cramped spiral staircases to the top of the towers, I was surprised by the view. Berg Nanstein wasn't situated on the highest point around. That fact caused its defeat in 1523. Enemy cannons mounted on three surrounding peaks situated higher than the castle. The sturdy stone walls were no match for the bombardment, and the castle was destroyed. The castle’s surrender in 1523 during the Imperial Knight War marked the end of medieval castles' usefulness against the modern cannon.

Within the castle walls on top of the hill, all personnel and animals (war horses and hunting dogs) lived on the first floor in areas that resembled a tunnel opening into a large dark holding room with a fire pit at the end. The only private chamber belonged to the lord. All other living accommodations were communal. Public or reception rooms were located on the second floor.

What little light entered any room came from a gun chamber from which castle soldiers shot at the advancing enemy. Weapons were stored along the walls at the ready. All stairs exposed a person’s right side to a lethal rain of arrows from above. (Most fighter were right handed and held shields in their left hands making left spiraling staircases highly effective.)

Although carvings of the knight’s crest adorned the entry arch, the interior of the castle was sparsely furnished with small chairs or wooden block, trunks for mobile possessions, niches in the walls to hold personal objects, a stone hearth, a castle well and fountain. Ulrich von Hutten, a contemporary of the lord who surrendered the castle in 1523, described life in the castle as “not built for the comfort but for battle, inside of depressive narrowness squeezed together with cattle and horse stables, dark chambers and war equipment. The smell of gunpowder everywhere, the odor of the dogs and their excrement is not much more pleasant either.”

Unfortunately, my camera wasn't good enough to capture the interiors of the castle with any clarity. Needless to say, Berg Nanstein wasn't anything like the fairytale castles seen in the movies.

Margaret Breashears
www.wantedghostbustingbride.com

The Wizard Lady of Branxholm

2011-09-14T03:31:00.001-04:00

"The feast was over in Branksome tower, And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower; her bower that was guarded by word and by spell, Deadly to hear, and deadly to tell--"
--the Lay of the Last Minstrel by Sir Walter Scott
Scott's opening lines to his seminal work introduced a new kind of heroine who had the power to bewitch Georgian and Regency readers and catapult her creator to instant fame. She was a true wizard lady, her presence shivering and felling the rational, elegant pillars of verse so prized by the classicists in the previous century.
The age of Romanticism had dawned with a spell.
I say Sir Walter Scott created her, but in truth the wizard lady of Branxholm was based on a true historical figure--Janet, Lady of Buccleuch and Branxholme (1519 - 1569). Her father was John Beaton, Laird of Creich, a Scottish border lord who, as the poem relates, bestowed on his daughter a keen interest in the occult. Whether this is true or not, it is absolutely certain that Janet had an almost supernatural power over men's hearts. Even as she grew older, her youthful looks remained remarkably preserved.
Witchcraft, it was whispered. Not Oil of Olay.
If she didn't cast spells, she certainly had enthusiasm. Janet married four husbands, the last one at the advanced age of sixty-one. She also had at least two affairs out of wedlock, both significant enough to be documented in court filings during litigation!
When Janet's first husband died, she married Sir Simon Preston, Lord of Craigmillar Castle. He was a busy man, rebuilding the castle after it was destroyed during England's "Rough Wooing" of Scotland during the minority of Mary, Queen of Scots. Janet was busy as well. She was divorced when Sir Simon discovered her infidelity with another man.
She then married her lover, a much older man known (alarmingly!) as "Wicked Wat," the Laird of Buccleugh and Branxholm. Like the poet, his name was Sir Walter Scott and was Janet's senior by twenty-four years. Perhaps it was his mortal hatred for the English which attracted her, for he was not the last man with this quality she was linked to. Together they had several children, including Margaret, the inspiration for Scott's Lady of the Lake.
According to some, Margaret was nothing like her mother, being rather insipid.
Sir Walter met his end at the hands of his hereditary enemies, the Kerrs in Edinburgh's High Street. He was still breathing after the attack, but was finished off by servants' daggers. The Queen Regent of Scotland, Marie of Guise, ordered the Kerrs to be banished.
Not to be satisfied, the widow of Buccleuch went after those who had supported the Kerrs. She set out with a party of some two hundred armed men after one of them, the Laird of Cranstoun. The hapless man fled at her approach, seeing sanctuary in a church called Kirk of the Lowes. He locked and barred the door. Undeterred, Janet took an axe and forced her way in. It is not too far-fetched to imagine the grief-wracked widow tearing the man from the altar with her own hands.
As they say, "Wicked Wat" was the love of the wizard lady's life.
Not to doesn't diminish her other romantic exploits: at the age of forty-three and having borne seven children, Janet ensnared another English-hater. James Hepburn, Earl of Bothwell, was "as naughty a man as liveth" and all of twenty-four at the time when they began their liaison. Hardly a secret, the affair became the subject of testimony during a lawsuit, of all things:
A man sued the wizard lady and demanded the judge be removed. On what grounds? he was asked. Because the judge, being the Earl Bothwell was "either quietly married or handfast" to the Lady of Buccleugh, disqualifying him from deciding the case. Any other grounds? You bet. There were "other causes of suspicion between them as is notoriously known."
I wish I had been there.
In any case, there were not the events that inspired the poem's claim that the Lady of Buccleugh could "bond to her bidding the viewless forms of the air." Janet had always been a respected member of the aristocracy, received at court by both Queen Mary and her mother when that lady was Regent. Indeed, others were suspected of witchcraft at this time. Mary Fleming, one of the Queen's attendants, was said to have cast Mary's labor pains onto Lady Margaret Reres, later wet-nurse to the baby prince.
Maybe the wizard lady wasn't up to that job. After all, Lady Reres was Janet's sister.
Janet's reputation as a witch began, ironically, right about the time the Queen's character was being sullied. Notorious placards calling Mary whore and murderess were circulated in Edinburgh, a city whose citizens were formerly captivated by the glamour of their queen. One of the pamphlets declared Janet had persuaded the Queen through witchcraft to marry Bothwell. It was a preposterous claim but widely accepted as truth. She was his former mistress, they said, and bound to do him a favor.
The date of the Queen's wedding was whispered to have been chosen by witches and sorcerers. "The people say that wantons marry in the month of May."
The brutal deposition of Mary from her throne cannot have failed to instill caution in even so intrepid a female as the wizard lady. Supporters of the former queen were hounded in the aftermath of the Queen's imprisonment. Janet had been her attendant and was almost certainly aware that there was a precedent for burning a witch to death, even if she were a noble one.
Who could forget the fate of Janet Douglas, Lady Glamis? She was the sister to the Earls of Angus yet that had not saved her from being burned as a witch on Castlehill in Edinburgh only decades before.
The wizard lady eventually returned to history's pages to be heartily welcomed by an audience hungry for castles, medievalism and the supernatural. She was the sensation of the Regency. Many fancied themselves caught up by her command to go to the "holy pile" of Melrose Abbey (pictured below) and "win the treasure of the tomb," a book of spells that would give her the power to wreak her vengeance.

Man's best friend

2011-09-13T02:00:00.000-04:00

Man’s best friend

Once our son’s grew up and left home, my husband and I got puppies. So now we do agility with our dogs, a Scottish terrier named Smokey and a Pembroke Welsh corgi named Bandit.

So now I’m thinking about how to incorporate dogs into my stories. Since I write (mostly) in the American west, there are plenty of opportunity to have a dog as a character.

In one story the cowboy hero brings his new wife a puppy. Ranches often had dogs, as they were useful in helping drive cattle. My husband’s family had a dog, Buster, that would help is father round up the cattle. Our Welsh corgi would be over the moon if we had some cows so we could tell him to go get and drive them in for milking.

Dogs were also served to hunt vermin, especially terrier type dogs. Cats get mice, but terriers can get rats. And farmers always have grain to protect.

And, of course, all dogs are watch dogs, who bark when something out of the ordinary happens. I was always impressed by Buster, as if you drove up to my in-laws house in the Oklahoma county side, Buster would bark a warning as you drove up the long driveway. If, however, my in-laws were not at home, Buster would just lay on the porch and give you look like ‘nobody home, silly.’

I would assume that most dogs in the American west were not the purebreds we would see today at a dog show. If a hunting dog had a reputation of being a good hunter, people would want puppies from them. Same with herding dogs, or terriers on their ability.

Finally, one of the most common reason for keeping a dog was for companionship the dog provided.

And while our dogs have the run of our house, I’m pretty sure my heroine who runs a boarding house will only allow the dog in the back kitchen. Our dogs don’t know how good they have it.

Does your family have any dog stories- or do you have dogs in your stories?

Blain’s Smokey of Santee, CGC, NA & Blain’s Sundance Bandit, CGC, NA, NJW

THE LEGEND OF PAUL BUNYAN AND THE BLUE OX

2011-09-09T13:04:00.002-04:00

Definition according to Wipipedia:
Paul Bunyan is a mythological lumberjack who is usually described as a giant as well as a lumberjack of unusual skill. The character was first documented in the work of U.S. journalist James McGillivray in 12910. In 1916, as part of an advertising campaign, advertisement writer William Laughead reworked the old logging tales into that of a giant lumberjack and gave birth to the modern Paul Bunyan a folklore character.

Paul Bunyan statue in Bangor, Maine

Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox statue in Bemidji, Minnesota

History
Apparently, French-Canadians originated the tales during the Papineau Rebellion of 1837, which is when they revolted against the young English queen This possibly explains Paul Bunyan’s last name. Boyenne is a colloquial French-Canadian expression which means “Good Grief” or “My Goodness.”

The Legend
At the mouth of the river in the Two Mountains area near Saint-Eustache, Quebec, loggers battled against the British. Among them was a bearded giant named Paul Bo0njean, his nickname – Bonyenne.

Another legend is that of a man living in Ottawa Valley (an actual person). His name – Big Joe Mufferaw or Joe Montferrand, Defender of the people.

The name was eventually Anglicised and the stories changed from generation to generation. Historians later say that the idea of Paul Bunyan with a blue ox was created in the twentieth century.

According to Wikipedia:
“Although it is claimed in some sources that ‘there is no…evidence of any Paul Bunyan story being told before…McGillivray’s story, The Round River Drive, published in 1910, ‘McGillivray had published some stories in the Oscoda, Michigan Press on August 10, 1906, and Governor of Michigan Jennifer M. Granholm proclaimed the centennial of that date as ‘Paul Bunyan Day.’

Bunyan and the Blue Ox
McGillivray’s story doesn’t portray Bunyan as a giant, nor is there mention of an ox. However, J. E. Rockwell, who wrote tales of Bunyan, referred to the blue ox in the February1910issue of The Outer’s Book. One tale indicates Bunyan to be eight feet tall and weighing three hundred pounds.

A historian, Carlton C. Ames, claimed (in 1940) that Bunyan was an invention of the twentieth century and not a nineteenth century folk hero. But William Laughead took the stories and reworked them into the modern character and sold the character to the Red River Lumber Company.

The Myths
According to Wikipedia, “Bunyan's birth was somewhat unusual, as are the births of many mythic heroes, as it took five storks to carry the infant (ordinarily, one stork could carry several babies and drop them off at their parents' homes). When he was old enough to clap and laugh, the vibration broke every window in the house. When he was seven months old, he sawed the legs off his parents' bed in the middle of the night.[11] Paul and Babe the Blue Ox, his companion, dug the Grand Canyon when he dragged his axe behind him. He created Mount Hood by piling rocks on top of his campfire to put it out.

Babe the Blue Ox, Bunyan's companion, was a massive creature with exceptional strength.[12] Most imagery of Bunyan shows Babe the Blue Ox as being of proportionate size (meaning massive compared to everything else). Among other subjects, a myth about the formation of Great Lakes was centered around Babe: Paul Bunyan needed to create a watering hole large enough for Babe to drink from.[8] There are also stories telling that the 10,000 Lakes of Minnesota were formed from the footprints of Paul and Babe while they wandered blindly in a deep blizzard. Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett were said to give Babe to Paul Bunyan, because they were all "woodsey" pioneer types. Paul Bunyan has dozens of towns vying to be considered his home. Several authors, including James Stevens and D. Laurence Rogers, have traced the tales to the exploits of French-Canadian lumberjack Fabian "Saginaw Joe" Fournier, 1845–1875. Fournier worked for the H. M. Loud Company in the Grayling, Michigan area, 1865–1875, where MacGillivray later worked and apparently picked up the stories.”

Statues
Bunyan and the Blue Ox in Bemidji, Minnesota – part of the U.S. National Register of Historic Places
Bangor, Maine, Rumford, Maine, Westwood, California, Del Norte County, California, St. Ignace, Michigan, Ossineke, Michigan, Enchanted Forest Water Safari, N.Y., and Eau Claire, Wisconsin, Wisconsin Dells and Minocqua, Wisconsin.

There are many more statues and parks devoted to Paul Bunyan and he continues to be the subject of advertisements. This summer, Minnesota Twins Baseball player, Jim Thome, played the role of Bunyan, together with the blue ox, with two other players commenting.

I found this history of Paul Bunyan interesting and would be interested in knowing how any of you would use Paul Bunyan as a hero in a romance or adventure novel.

Joan K. Maze
Writing as J. K. Maze
www.joanmaze.com
http://sleuthingwithmollie.wordpress.com
http://homicideandmayhem.wordpress.com

Murder By Mistake, book 1 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, available from Red Rose Publishing, B&N, Fictionwise and Amazon
Murder For Kicks, book 2 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, available from Red Rose Publishing, Fictionwise and Amazon
Framed In Fear, romantic suspense set in Colorado, available from Red Rose Publishing, Fictionwise and Amazon
Murder By Spook, book 3 in the Mollie Fenwick Mystery Series, in progress

Bonanza, Little Joe, and the Real Julia Bulette

2011-09-07T00:01:00.002-04:00

Julia Bulette, a high priced courtesan known for her beauty and brains, arrived in Virginia City in 1858 and found herself the lone woman in a town filled with rough and desperate men who were mining the Comstock Lode. She set to work and besides her considerable feminine charms, she became known for her community support, her loyalty and her good business sense before her life came to a tragic end.

Julia’s story found its way onto the small screen in episode 6 of season 1 of the popular TV series, Bonanza, which took place around the environs of Virginia City at the time Julia was plying her trade. In the fictionalized account, Little Joe gets captivated by the older Julia at her upscale saloon and Ben Cartwright, Little Joe’s father, is not pleased. But when a fever breaks out in Virginia City and Julia pitches, she earns Ben's admiration and he relents saying if she is what Joe wants, he won’t stand in the way. Of course, Little Joe remained single, much to the joy of female viewers everywhere. You can watch it in parts on You Tube. Here’s the first part

The real Julia Bulette proved that the woman of loose morals with a heart of gold was more than just a Hollywood caricature.

It was said Julia was from London, England, but of French ancestry, and came to Virginia City, Nevada by way of New Orleans and California.

Her house on D Street became a center of community life in those early days and a place to enjoy the finer things after working down under in the mines. A place of light and charm versus dark and gloom. You had to behave as a gentleman, however, or you would not be welcome. And these rough, raw and tough men did just that. She taught her patrons about elegance and grace and they admired her all the more for it.

The miners working the Comstock lode, whose pockets were overflowing with silver, paid dearly and, by all accounts, happily for Julia’s favors as she charged them up to $1000.00 a night. Needless to say in a short time she had the means to open her own house of pleasure, Julia’s Palace, which combined feminine companionship with wonderful French wine and cuisine.

Being an exceptional business woman, Julia “expanded her operations, importing only the most accomplished and refined girls from San Francisco.” (p. 81, Gentle Tamers: Women of the Old Wild West by Dee Brown)

As women of more respectable origins, such as the wives and daughters of the miners, arrived in the city, one would have thought Julia’s role would diminish and, like most sporting women, she would have kept in the background. But that was not Julia’s way.

She rode through the streets of Virginia City in her brougham with four aces emblazoned on the panel and crowned by a lion. She walked the streets going about her daily affairs wearing the latest Parisian fashions and sable muffs and scarves if the weather dictated. She felt part of the city and for a time, the city, at least the men of the city, embraced her. She could often be seen at the Opera in her own loge and always fashionably dressed.

Her proudest moments came from being made an honorary member of in the Virginia City Fire Company, Engine Company No. 1, voted in by the firemen themselves. Of course it didn’t hurt that her favorite lover, Tom Peasley, was the Fire Chief. In the 1861 Independence Day celebration she was elected Queen of the parade and rode on the fire truck with a fireman’s hat on her head.

She was given other “honors” by the men of the area. “One of the Comstock Mines was named the ‘Julia’ in her honor and the best club car of the Virginia and Truckee Railroad bore the gold-plated name, ‘Julia Bulette.’ When the newly elected governor Nye came to Virginia City, it was Julia who entertained him and other state functionaries at dinner while the “good women” of the town gnashed their teeth behind closed curtains.” (p. 112, Lost Legends of the West by Williams and Pepper)

Julia was beloved by her patrons and she was loyal in return. Many stories circulated of her generosity to those down and out and her support of the city, including her plentiful donations to the fire company. She also would help the men put out fires by working the water pump and serving coffee to the fire fighters. ( p. 81, The Gentle Tamers)

When the Piute War of 1860 erupted Julia offered to stay and feed the defenders of Virginia City but the miners finally persuaded her to join a dozen or so other women in a shelter. When several hundred miners became sick after drinking water containing arsenic, she turned her Palace into a hospital and “went on duty as a nurse, soothing and comforting, and bring the patients to health on a diet of warm soup and rice.” (p.82, The Gentle Tamers)

By 1863, with a population of 30,000 Virginia City was the largest city west of Chicago and their red light district was considered superior to others in the West. ( p. 83, The Gentle Tamers). But with a population that large it was inevitable that “civilization was coming to Virginia City. Indeed by the next year, the Opera house hosted Adah Menken and Julia watched the performance from a “box behind half drawn curtains, exiled because the town had become too respectable for her.” (p. 83 The Gentle Tamers.)

But the end of Julia’s story came about not due to the encroachment of civilization but to the greediness of one of her “uncivilized” admirers who murdered her in the middle of the night in order to steal her considerable jewelry. She was found partially naked, bound, and dead come morning light.

According to reports, Virginia City, at least the male population of the town, went into mourning for her, closing down the mines and shops, hanging black wreaths from saloon windows and decorating fire trucks with black streamers. Thousands of men walked behind the black horse-drawn hearse to bury her in unconsecrated ground.

It took almost a year but finally her murderer, John Millain, (who figures as a jealous lover in the TV version) was caught and brought to trial. As Mark Twain noted in his book, Roughing It, no one was punished for murder in a wide open town like Virginia City. John Millain would prove an exception so outraged was the town over Julia’s death. Mark Twain, who witnessed Millian’s hanging, gives a chilling account of it in his Letters from Virginia City.

“I saw it all. I took exact note of every detail, even to Melanie’s (sic) considerately helping to fix the leather strap that bound his legs together and the quiet removal of his slippers—and I never wish to see it again. I can see that stiff, straight corpse hanging there yet with its black pillowed-cased head turned rigidly to one side, and the purple streaks creeping through the hands and driving the fleshy hue of life before them. Ugh!”( State Library and Archives: A Division of Nevada Cultural Affairs, From Mark Twain, May 2, 1968)

To read Mark Twain’s full account click http://nsla.nevadaculture.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1574&Itemid=95

A sad conclusion to the story of the woman whose heart of gold could not save her from the tragic fate that befell so many in her profession.

Should Julia have won Little Joe’s heart? It would have made a much happier ending but perhaps spoiled the series for so many young woman of the time.

Anne Carrole writes about cowboys who have grit, integrity and little romance on their mind and the women who love them. You can check out her contemporary romance, Re-ride at the Rodeo, at The Wild Rose Press. She also is co-editor of the review website, www.lovewesternromances.com

BAD HAND - COL. RANALD MACKENZIE

2011-09-05T23:01:00.000-04:00

Mackenzie Park in Lubbock, Texas

A part of Yellow House Canyon

Growing up in Lubbock, Texas we attended what seemed to me a dozen reunions at Mackenzie Park each summer. I knew the park and one of our junior high schools were named for a military man, but nothing else about him, especially not that he went insane. I must have missed the day that was covered in Texas History class. Allegedly, Mackenzie had contracted syphillis, a destroyer of the brain if left untreated. His nickname of Bad Hand came from his losing part of his hand in a battle. His exploits were legendary, and it's said he was fearless and seemed indestructable. Although I find it hard, especially as one whose great grandmother was Native American, I try to see him as he would have been regarded in his time. Whether you view him as a hero or a villain, here's his story.

Ranald Mackenzie

Ranald Slidell (Bad Hand) Mackenzie, army officer, was born on July 27, 1840, in New York City, the son of Alexander Slidell Mackenzie, a popular author and naval officer who had taken his mother's family name of Mackenzie, and Catherine (Robinson) Mackenzie. (I suspect there’s an interesting story there!) Alexander Mackenzie was a Captain in the Navy, but he made a bad career move when he hung the son of the Secretary of War for mutiny.

Ranald received his education at Williams College and at the United States Military Academy, where he graduated on June 17, 1862, at the head of his class. He was commissioned a second lieutenant and assigned to the Army of the Potomac. Within two years he had fought in eight major battles and been promoted to the rank of colonel. Later, in the Shenandoah Valley, he commanded troops in five battles, and in the final campaign against Robert E. Lee he was a brevet major general. At Appomattox he took custody of surrendered Confederate property and afterward commanded the cavalry in the Department of Virginia. In three years he had received seven brevets and six wounds.

Buffalo Soldiers

In 1867 Mackenzie accepted an appointment as colonel of the Forty-first Infantry, a newly formed black regiment reorganized two years later as part of the Twenty-fourth United States Infantry. The unit had its headquarters at Fort Brown, Fort Clark, and later at Fort McKavett. On February 25, 1871, he assumed command of the famed Black Buffalo Soldiers, the Fourth United States Cavalry at Fort Concho (San Angelo, TX) and a month later moved its headquarters to Fort Richardson (Jacksboro TX).

Mackenzie awarding medals

That summer he began a series of expeditions into the uncharted Panhandle and Llano Estacado (the staked plain) in an effort to drive renegade Indians back onto their reservations. In October his troops skirmished with a band of Comanches in Blanco Canyon, where he was wounded, and on September 29, 1872, they defeated another near the site of the present town of Lefors. In 1873 Mackenzie was assigned to Fort Clark to put an end to the plunder of Texas livestock by Indian raiders from Mexico. On May 18, in an extralegal raid, he burned a Kickapoo village near Remolino, Coahuila , and returned with forty captives. That and effective border patrols stopped the raiding.

In July 1874 Lt. Gen. Philip H. Sheridan ordered five commands to converge on the Indian hideouts along the eastern edge of the Llano Estacado. Mackenzie, in the most daring and decisive battle of the campaign, destroyed five Indian villages on September 28 in Palo Duro Canyon (near Amarillo, TX) and on November 5 near Tahoka Lake (Tahoka, TX) won a minor engagement, his last, with the Comanches. His destruction of the Indians' horses after the battle of Palo Duro Canyon, even more than the battle itself, destroyed the Indians' resistance.

Comanche Chief Quanah Parker

In March 1875 Mackenzie assumed command at Fort Sill and control over the Comanche-Kiowa and Cheyenne-Arapaho reservations. On June 2 Quanah Parker arrived at Fort Sill with 407 followers and 1,500 horses. The Red River War was over.

After Lt. Col. George A. Custer's troops had been annihilated on the Little Bighorn River in 1876, Mackenzie was placed in command of the District of the Black Hills and of Camp Robinson, Nebraska. In October he forced Sioux Chief Red Cloud, who had won a campaign in 1868 against the United States, to return his band to the reservation.

On November 25 Mackenzie decisively defeated the Northern Cheyennes. After a short tour of duty in Washington, during which he commanded troops mustered to keep the peace in the event of disturbances following the presidential election of 1876, Mackenzie returned to the Black Hills, then to Fort Sill Oklahoma. In late 1877 Indians from Mexico were again raiding in South Texas, and by March 1878 Mackenzie was again at Fort Clark. He began patrols and in June led an expedition into Mexico. His incursion prompted the Mexican government to act, and by October the raiding had ceased.

Mackenzie

In October 1879 Mackenzie was sent to Colorado with six companies of cavalry to prevent an uprising of the Utes at the Los Pinos agency. The Indian Bureau eventually negotiated a removal treaty, but the chiefs refused to leave until Mackenzie informed them that the only alternative was war. Two days later, the Utes started for Utah. On September 2, 1881, Mackenzie received orders to move his cavalry to Arizona, take field command of all troops there, and subdue the Apaches. After a short and brilliant campaign, despite the opposition of the department and division commanders, Mackenzie was assigned on October 30 to command the District of New Mexico, where the Apaches ignored departmental and international lines and the Navajos were restless. Within a year the army was in control.

Mackenzie was promoted to the rank of brigadier general, but was seriously ill. He had taken several medical leaves during the last few years. On October 27, 1883, he was reassigned to command the Department of Texas. He planned to marry and retire soon on land that he had bought near Boerne, TX. The day before his marriage he went into a store, broke a chair, and threatened the store owner with the chair leg. He was restrained, babbling and incoherent. (A narrow escape for his bride-to-be!) By December 18 he was declared suffering "paralysis of the insane." A few days later he was escorted to New York City and placed in the Bloomingdale Asylum. Reportedly, he did not speak or respond. On March 24, 1884, he was retired from the army. In June he went to his boyhood home in Morristown to live with a cousin. In 1886 he was moved to New Brighton, Staten Island, where he died on January 19, 1889. He was buried in the military cemetery at West Point.

According to Johnny Hughes of Lubbock, Texas: “In this part of West Texas, Colonel Ranald "Bad Hand" MacKenzie is seen as the hero of the Indian wars of the 1870s. There were so-called battles in all our area canyons: Yellow House, Blanco, Tule, White River, and the last and largest battle of the Red River Wars, in Palo Duro Canyon against Quanah Parker, and several tribes. MacKenzie had to spend more time killing people than anyone in American history. He entered the Civil War in 1862. Right after the Civil War, he began leading cavalry charges on Indian villages against dozens of tribes in several states and Mexico. This went on until 1880.

Palo Duro Canyon near Amarillo

"In several of the canyons, the bleached bones of the horses remain. In the final big ‘battle’ in 1875 in Palo Duro Canyon, MacKenzie burned all the lodges in five villages, and all the food stored for the winter. His troops captured 1400 horses. They kept 300 and shot the rest. They kept an accurate count on the horses, mules, and ammunition, but the number of Indians who died as a result of this government policy has not been written. MacKenzie led white and black soldiers, the famous buffalo soldiers.

"With winter approaching, the Indians were left without food, horses, blankets, warm clothes, or a place to hide. Most surrendered to face a long, cold, hungry walk to Oklahoma. Those that surrendered to the cavalry were in a herd on foot, and herded like cattle or horses.”

The 1958-1959 syndicated television series, "Mackenzie's Raiders," starring Richard Carlson in the title role, is loosely based on Mackenzie's time in Texas. According to Johnny Hughes, the scene in “Dances With Wolves” where Kevin Costner rides around between rebel and union lines was based on Ranald Mackenzie.

Caroline Clemmons is the author of HOME, SWEET TEXAS HOME, a contemporary sweet romance set in and near the West Texas towns of Lubbock and Tahoka, Texas. http://www.carolineclemmons.com/ her blog is at http://carolineclemmons.blogspot.com/

Buy link is www.thewildrosepress.com/caroline-clemmons-m-638.html

The Renaissance and Women

2011-09-03T00:01:00.001-04:00

It has long been held that the Renaissance began in Florence, Italy in the 14th century mostly because of the social and civic uniqueness of the city at that time. The Renaissance was a cultural movement that saw the rise of literature, science, art, religion, and politics. It was an intellectual transformation that bridged the Middle Ages and Modern era.

Women in the Renaissance were primarily the domestic caretakers of the children and the household. They were subordinate inferiors of men. Only a few wealthy women escaped the tasks of making clothes from scratch, the overall maintenance of the home, and production of food. In the Middle Ages master craftsmen worked out of the family home. The women of the house not only did their womanly chores but also took on responsibilities in the family business. In the 13th century, the family business was removed from the home to larger shops in a different location. It’s during this time period that crafts became individual male trades thus removing the women in the household from participating while she kept house. However, fathers and husbands who stood to profit from the careers of their daughters and wives were not likely to oppose their participation. However, this was not a very common situation. Historians believe women filled a greater variety of professional roles, had more responsibilities, and had more economic contribution during the Middle Ages rather than the Renaissance.

Like the Middle Ages, women of the Renaissance were denied all political rights and considered legally subject to their husbands. A woman was controlled by her parents throughout her childhood, and then handed directly into the hands of a husband, whom she most likely had not chosen herself, and who would exercise control over her until her death or his. Unmarried women were not emancipated but lived under the subjugation of a male relative or in a convent where she could become a nun, the only profession allowed to women.

The heroine in my book, Knight or Runes, is a 21st century renowned Renaissance scholar. She is an independent take control person. She has a black belt in martial arts and is a survival and rescue expert. When she’s tossed back into 17th century England she’s challenged by the repressive attitudes about women. You’ll have to read the book (it comes out November 14) to see how she fares but how would you cope and survive? What would be your biggest challenge?

August Contest Winners

2011-09-02T20:11:00.001-04:00

Congratulations to our August Contest Winners:

August Winners

Goodie Bags:

Megan K.

Janette H.

Workshop:

Roseanne D.

To be eligible to win, just leave a comment. The more comments, the more chances to win!

SEDUCED BY HISTORY BLOG CONTEST

2011-08-31T00:57:00.001-04:00

It’s time to enter the Seduced by History Blog August contest. Check on each blog during the month, look for a contest question, send in your answers to each question in one email to seducedbyhistoryblog@yahoo.com by or on September 5, 2011. IF A BLOG DOESN'T HAVE A QUESTION, SKIP THAT DAY.

Prizes awarded to one lucky winner include: Victoria Gray’s book "Angel in My Arms", "Spirit of the Mountain" package from Paty Jager, Cynthia Owens’ book "Coming Home", a Kansas basket from Renee Scott, Anna Kathryn Lanier’s ebook “Salvation Bride” and gift basket, “Stringing Beads - Musings of a Romance Writer” by Debra K. Maher, Eliza Knight’s ebooks “A Pirate’s Bounty” and “A Lady’s Charade”, Anne Carrole’s book “Return to Wayback,” a 4 gb jump drive, a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card, and more!

All entries must be received by or on Monday, September 5, 2011 to be eligible for the drawing. Please include your mailing address in email. A winner will be chosen from all those eligible on or about September 6, 2011 and contacted by email. Odds of winning will depend on the number of total number of entries received.

Without Language, Without Heart

2011-08-29T00:10:00.006-04:00

Over the thirty years I have lived in Wales, I have had many arguments with traditionalists regarding the symbols of culture: pipes, kilts, tambours, folk dances, tabor-tossing, lovespoons and music but nothing represents a culture and keeps it vibrant like its language. Folk customs and traditions are rigid, unchangeable, museum-ready artifacts of what was. A language is a living testament of a people and culture and is always changing.

Most often, the reason enthusiastic followers of a particular culture prefer the outward trappings of that culture is because they see language as an insurmountable barrier whereas kilts, pipes, dances and music are easily obtained. You can buy any cultural symbol over the counter or over the internet. You can have your kilt, leprechaun, and fluffy dragons in moments. You don’t have to be among the people or speaking to them. You can possess the physical elements without ever setting foot on their soil or living among them while their culture is prostituted and stripped of its essence for the sake of tourism.

About six years ago, I attended an international conference on cultural tourism. The then Irish Minister of Economic Development gave his endorsement to the spreading of Irish culture through dance and music. He claimed that Ireland needed nothing more than Riverdance to secure their stake in world class tourist attractions.

This reminded me of the Native Americans I have worked with over the years I lived in the United States. Many of them were critical of the reduction of their culture to beads and trinkets for the sake of the tourist trade. Their languages and spiritual observances were pushed aside as irrelevant barriers to the accessibility of their ‘culture’ through baubles.

The Irish Minister was proud of the reduction of his country to a dance troupe and its language and history to the museum. Yes. All Irish children are taught Gaelic in school but the language’s use on a daily basis is limited to pockets, largely in the west.

This time of year, Edinburgh is overrun with tourists who attend the Fringe Festival. This brings to the city a huge amount of money but it has nothing to do with the culture of Scotland. You will see men in kilts playing bagpipes at nearly every street corner, their sporran on the ground in front of them to beg the tourist pennies. Although they have to have a license to entertain during the Fringe, these proud men are beggars in their own country.

Before I moved to Wales, I took a course at the university about the impact of the loss of language on Celtic cultures. The lecturer was a Breton. Once a language is lost, the dead remains of the culture are all that are left to testify to its former existence. That quintessential sense of self and worth is gone. The ‘culture’is a commodity and its practitioners become street hawkers.

This may be one of my last posts written in my study in my house in my hometown of Caerfyrddin. When I move away from this place, I will take the physical remnants of my thirty years residence in this country and very little of that will be of the ‘fluffy dragon and lovespoon’ variety. I will speak and dream in Welsh.

Heb iaith, heb galon.

More Than One Way to Cross a River

2011-08-28T02:15:00.005-04:00

The images of the historic cattle trail readily come to mind: cantankerous longhorns, cowboys in chaps, stampedes, campfires and strong coffee. One of the most is iconic and notorious among these was the Brazos River crossing at Waco.

My cattle trail romance, West of Heaven, is set in 1871, the year acknowledged as the heaviest for the movement of cattle north. With my primary research completed, I wrote various crossings into my story with the Brazos River and it's swift, unpredictable current and deep waters, planned as the most dramatic. The safest way to cross was by ferry.

As I always do, I continued researching while I wrote. This system helps me freshen my writing with new details and keeps me from getting bogged down collecting reams of unusable historic trivia. When it came time to write the Brazos scene, I plowed into research again. Imagine my surprise to discover that far from the arduous and time consuming task of loading the cattle group by group, my herd could pussy foot its way across the Brazos on a brand, spanking new suspension bridge.

Begun in October 1868 and ready to open January 1, 1870, the Waco Suspension Bridge was built by the same firm that constructed the Brooklyn Bridge. Supplies to erect it were brought by steamer, ferry, and oxen-pulled wagon from Galveston, 212 miles away. The three million bricks for the two double suspension towers were made locally in Waco. For a while this engineering marvel was the longest suspension bridge in the world at 475 feet.

The final cost of the bridge was estimated at $141,000 contributed by a group of Waco businessmen. Tolls of five cents a head soon paid off their investment. The resulting traffic achieved the goal to bring enough commerce to Waco to turn it from a small frontier town into a thriving commercial destination.

The bridge was wide enough for allow two stagecoaches to pass one another and to accommodate cattle two abreast on one side and pedestrians on the other. It must have been a scary thing walking across facing a herd of longhorns. With a major updating in 1913-1914, the bridge served for 100 years, first for cattle and later for vehicles. It was retired in 1971. Today it is on the National Register of Historic Places and can still be crossed on foot.

My Question: Before the suspension bridge, what was the safest way to cross the Brazoa at Waco?

Excerpt:

The trail between Austin and Waco brought enough rain to give Marcella terror-filled dreams about the upcoming Brazos River crossing. Her effort to keep her anxiety from infecting the crew meant haunting the coffee pot to keep her awake longer and longer hours.

Coming off watch on the third day past Austin, she stopped to fill her cup.

"Are you gettin' enough sleep?"

"Jean Luc!" She hadn't seen him until his voice startled her from across the ebbing campfire. He sat hunched in his poncho under the scant shelter of Hans's tarp. He patted the dry space beside him and beckoned her to join him. "So, you grace us with your presence after everyone has turned in for the night."

"It's dryer here than out there."

She sat down cross-legged next to him. "How is it on the Brazos?"

He put an arm around her shoulder and she snuggled into his warmth. "Are you worried about the crossing?"

"Aren't you?" The rain pattered steadily on the oilcloth tarp.

"Nope. I'm lookin' forward to it. It'll be my first time over the bridge. I heard it's a real marvel. Three million Texas-made bricks in the bridge towers."

*****

She sat up and narrowed her eyes at him over her cup. "Bridge? There's a bridge?"

"New suspension bridge opened last year. Cattle down one side. Pedestrians down the other. Wide enough for stagecoaches to pass each other. You won't have to stick one beautiful toe in that river."

"Why didn't anybody tell me about this sooner?" She wouldn't admit how much sleep she'd lost worrying.

He shrugged, "I didn't know you didn't know."

"Well, maybe if you didn't make yourself so scarce around here, you would have." She set down her cup and folded her arms across her chest, making no effort to hide her irritation.

"I just want to avoid -- uh -- trouble."

*****

The wagons had already rolled out to find the midday stopping place.

Jean Luc adjusted his hat. "An easy day today, drovers. The Brazos was a fearsome river to cross in its day, but man has overcome it with a modern bridge. We'll probably spend more time waiting to pay our toll than we will travelin', but we'll take it slow, keep those critters calm and be on the other side safe and dry. All for the bargain price of five cents a head. After that, fine weather, and an even grade.

"I'll take point, along with Queenie and Jake. Marcella will be up front with us prepared to pay the toll."

He caught Marcella's eye and cast her a half-smile. "Nell and Paz, take right swing, Jasper and Glory, left swing. I want Lou on left flank, Carrie on right flank. June Bug, and Polly, sorry, your turn at drag.

"Remember, keep those hats on and those bandanas, up around your noses. They don't do you any good hung any lower. Any questions?" He paused. "Good, let's go say hello to some critters." He slapped his dusty gloves against his thigh. "C'mon, Butch."

Jean Luc had crossed many a river in his day, seen his share of catastrophes and near-drownings, both man and critter, but he judged he'd never seen a spectacle as the one he watched that day on the Waco Suspension Bridge. Marcella presented their papers and paid their toll. Then, as placid as if they were filing into church on the Sabath, those longhorns walked two abreast along the planks of the bridge.

The noise that resulted was difficult to describe except to say that any fish that chanced to swim below at the time must have been drummed deaf by the time he reached the other side.

Sooner than would have been possible in the old days when the Brazos was king, they were on the other side and on their way. But not before Marcella rode up to him threw her arms around him and planted a huge kiss on his lips. "Now, that's my kind of river crossing," she said before trotting away.

"Well, giddy on up," Queenie shouted, slapping Jake on the back.

A full two minutes later, Jean Luc felt settled enough to give Nickel his head.

West of Heaven by Barbara Scott is available for Kindle, Nook, on Sony, Kobo, and at Apple's iBookstore.

Plotting or Pantsing

2011-08-27T01:00:00.012-04:00

by Ann Lethbridge

I can't imagine that this topic hasn't been addressed before, so let us be clear, this is just my take on this subject.

I am a pantser. A flyer into the mist, as Jo Beverly says. I have tried to be a plotter. I did plot a complete book once, but I never even started writing it, or at least I had the first page done when I started plotting according to some grand scheme or other, and that is where it sits two years later. I was bored knowing how it all unfolded.

I have to keep going back to my mantra. Every writer is different. What works for one does not work for another.

Then why this article I hear you ask. Or is that me asking? Why bother? Well, to be honest, I just can't help thinking about this stuff.

Here's the thing - story is story. The art of writing story is as old as pictographs. There are certain things stories should have - at least in genre fiction. Certain peaks and valleys every story must touch. We've all taken the workshops, we all understand the concepts and the need for structure if you want readers to turn the pages. Hero's journey, W plotting, three act structure, six stage structure, any advance on six -- do I hear a 9? All great, by the way. Great. Helpful. Wonderful that writers have taken the time to offer these tools to other writers.

As far as I can figure it out, what a pantser does (no no there I go generalizing again) what I do, is go back and make sure the story hits the highs and lows required once the draft is done.

These are the questions I ask myself. What are my goals motivations and conflicts for the happy couple? Yes by this time they are the happy couple. Are they clear to the reader and not just in my head?

Where are my turning points? Did I take too long to get there? - thus losing tension along the way.

Is the black moment black enough? Is it driven by the romance or the external plot? Does it work?

For me, the key scene by scene test is as follows:

What changed? Who is worse off now than at the beginning of the scene? If no one is, then it needs fixing. Could something even worse have happened? How does it tie back to their goal, their worst fear or their conflict. Is what they have decided to do next reasonable and does it lead to yet more conflict?

Are the motivations clear to the reader? In that particular scene, not the whole book. Whatever the character does, is it clear why the character does it? And the answer cannot be that the plot requires that they do that. If the plot requires an unarmed woman to go into a dark basement for no good reason, the reader will not buy it.

Without plotting the book, don't you go off track? That is a plotter asking, of course.

The answer is. Yes. Terribly. The last book I handed in, well I just never did get hold of that sucker by the date it was due. And that's where your editor and/or your critique group can help. And that is why you need to go back and use the tools in your toolbelt to polish and sand and rub. Or at least I do. And I did. Hopefully it turned out much better.

Well that was fun. My guess is there are all kinds of writers out there:

Pl-antsers   -    they pants a bit and plot a bit, then pants a bit more then plot ....
Plo-sters    -    They get an outline going through to the end then fly off the cliff, catching the odd tree branch
                       they planted on the way down, then leap again
Palonstters -     who knows what they do, but they do it well

I wish to every success no matter how you spell what you are.

Cemetery Walk

2011-08-25T01:00:00.046-04:00

The founders of a new colony. . .have invariably recognized it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery... - Nathaniel Hawthorne

Since ancient times we have honored the dead by constructing tombs, graveyards, and church cemeteries. Egyptian pharaohs built massive pyramids. In the middle ages and beyond, kings and nobles were laid to rest under the floors of majestic cathedrals. European immigrants to the new world brought with them the custom of burying their dead in churchyards, in consecrated ground.

On a recent visit to see family in northern Minnesota, I traveled with my aunt to an old family cemetery and church. Built by Norwegian immigrants in the late 1800's, the Lutheran church had been empty for many years. In March of this year it re-opened. On the day we visited, the side door stood open in anticipation of more workers arriving to paint the floor.

Last October in Paris I'd visited the awesome St. Eustache Cathedra l built in the 16th century. There in this grand cathedral, at least two of my paternal ancestors were baptized before migrating to Quebec.

For all its simplicity, the 19th century Rindal Lutheran Church in rural northern Minnesota was no less awesome. Simpler, but still amazing and pure. As I stood in each building, I absorbed the atmosphere surrounding me. The silent coolness seemed to hold memories of those who had once worshiped there.

On this particular August day, the sun radiated against an ever changing sky. A cooling breeze rustled fragrant pine trees and dried cut grass.

As my aunt and I walked the grounds of this rural cemetery, we read the tombstones. She told me of those she knew who rested there. Some stones told their own story. A beloved infant who died in his first year. An adult son buried with his parents. Soldiers killed in World War II, or who died after coming home. We saw many military graves in the cemetery, each one marked with a Veteran's star. As in other cemeteries, small flags are no doubt placed there on National holidays.

My love of history and family fuels my interest in genealogy. Genealogists can learn much from old cemeteries.

A while ago I discovered an amazing site called Find A Grave. On this free site, one can search for or post burial sites of relatives. Pictures and obituaries can be shown, and pages linked to other family members. There's even an option to place flower memorials. It's a remarkable site to remember those who have gone before, and to research family history. Through it, I've found lost cousins and viewed family stones too far to visit easily. Our 21st century technology comes to the graveyard.

So much can be learned about history by studying one's own genealogy, and by visiting ancient cathedrals, or old family church yards. Give it a try.

Debra K. Maher
Stringing Beads

My question: On what site can you search for over 66 million graves?
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SEDUCED BY HISTORY AUGUST CONTEST: Seduced by History Blog is hosting a month-long contest in August. One winner will receive a ‘basketful of goodies.’ All you have to do is check in on each blog during the month, look for a contest question to answer and September 1-5, 2011 send in your answers to seducedbyhistoryblog@yahoo.com. For full details, read the information on the right or click the CONTEST page.

Fantasy or Reality?

2011-08-24T00:01:00.002-04:00

Last week I was informed my historical paranormal Spirit of the Mountain placed first in the paranormal category of the Lories Best Published Book Contest.

The funny part about it is I have never considered it a paranormal book. When my historical editor said it had to go to the fantasy line at Wild Rose Press I drug my feet kicking and screaming, "It isn't a paranormal."

I have Indian spirits who are shape shifters and integral characters in the book. This is what makes it fall under the category fantasy/paranormal. To me the spirit element is Native American. It is part of their culture and therefore is more historical than paranormal, but I've lost the argument many times.

Native Americans have long held the belief that animals carry spirits and those spirits were called upon to help with hunts, battles, and the day to day living required when living off the land. These spirits were depicted in drawings, ceremonies with elaborate costumes, and in their stories. Many myths/legends have the main characters of Coyote, bear, skunk, and weasel.

These tales were told around campfires at night. The stories had morals like our fairy tales and fables. Only the characters in the stories were rarely human and always they told of lessons. Sometimes lessons for children and sometimes lessons for adults. And always they told of human foibles through the animals.

Here is a Nez Perce tale:

Coyote was a wise man, and Fox was slow-witted. Coyote said to Fox, "Now we shall have to get up some scheme to procure food. You are slow-witted, just like your father. My father was not that way: he was wise. I have taken after my father."
They were in their camp; and Coyote said to Fox, "If you keep perfectly still and do not move, we shall get some food." Then Coyote began thus: "I wish that I and my friend could hear the sound of five packs of food falling at the door!" Then they heard five sounds: "tlitluk, tlitluk, tlitluk, tlitluk, tlitluk!" Coyote jumped up and ran out, and there he saw five packs lying at the door. He took the three largest ones for his share, and left the two smallest ones for Fox. The large packs that Coyote got were all dry meat without any fat, but the two little packs contained fine meat. In three days Coyote had eaten all his poor meat; while Fox had a great deal left, because his was so very rich. On the fourth morning Coyote was hungry, and kept his eye on Fox to see if he had eaten all his share. Now, Fox had eaten only one of his packs, so Coyote jumped over and took the other. Then he said to Fox, "You are a fine fellow never to divide up with your friend!"
Five times they repeated the magic act and got food, but the sixth time Coyote wanted to see who brought them the meat. So he said to Fox, "I am going to see the man who gives us meat." Fox replied, "You had better not try to do that, because this is the only way we can get food." But Coyote was determined to see. He stood at the door, and cut a peep-hole so that he could look out with one eye. Then he repeated the wish; and when the packs fell, he saw a man going up over the ridge who wore long hair in a wig. This man was Deer Tick. Coyote shouted after him, "Oh, you man with the wig, you go over the mountain!"
Think you they got food again from the man Coyote had shamed?

SEDUCED BY HISTORY AUGUST CONTEST: Seduced by History Blog is hosting a month-long contest in August. One winner will receive a ‘basketful of goodies.’ All you have to do is check in on each blog during the month, look for a contest question to answer and September 1-5, 2011 send in your answers to seducedbyhistoryblog@yahoo.com. For full details, read the information on the right or click the CONTEST page.

My question: What is the title of my book set among the Nez Perce?

Paty Jager
www.patyjager.net
www.patyjager.blogspot.com

References
Nez Perce Tales, By Herbert J. Spinden, 1907
From Blue Panther Keeper of Stories.

Tales of the Nez Perce by Donald M. Hines,
Ye Galleon Press; Fairfield, Washington, 1999

Terror and Revenge; Russia's First Female Terrorist by Emma Westport

2011-08-23T00:05:00.002-04:00

At 17, Vera Zasulich defied her relatives’ plans to turn her into a governess—the only decent profession for an impoverished young noblewoman—and moved to St. Petersburg. She hoped to emulate another Vera, Vera Pavlova, the heroine of Chernyshevsky’s novel What Is To Be Done? Following her idol, Vera helped establish a sewing cooperative and came into with Russia’s most infamous and influential revolutionary, Sergei Nechaev. Her relationship with him had a profound effect on her life.

Nechaev was a charismatic psychopath. The model for Dostoevsky’s character Peter Verkhovensky in The Possessed, he believed anything—lies, violence, murder—could be justified in the name of the ‘cause.’ Picked up for questioning by the police in January 1869, he decided to leave Russia. He wanted Vera to join him. He loved her, he said. He needed her. Vera hesitated—and then refused.

Nechaev left but every letter sent back to Russia, every letter to friends and supporters, asked for news of Vera. Nechaev knew the police would read these letters yet he made no effort to protect her identity. Stupidity? Hardly. Revenge? Possibly. Nechaev was not used to hearing ‘no.’ Vera was picked up for questioning and in April 1869, arrested.

She was imprisoned in the Lithuanian Castle, one of Russia’s worst prisons. Death and disease ran rampant. Rotted floorboards gave way beneath her feet and prisoners were afraid to touch the walls lest the slime that grew there come off on their hands and clothes. Covered in damp and mildew, the prison stank so badly visitors, literally, could not stomach it.

Vera wasn’t interrogated nor was she charged. She was simply left alone. Kept in a cell, by herself, for over a year, she had no human contact and no reading materials. Her mother complained to authorities that she’d been allowed only one short visit with her daughter. The 19-year-old Vera struggled to stay sane.

Conditions improved when she was transferred to the Peter and Paul Fortress. Here, at least, her cell had windows, the food was edible and she was allowed to read any book she could get her hands on. And then, in March 1871, she was released. The government decided the evidence against her was too weak to get a conviction.

She was arrested again ten days later. Again, no charges were pressed. With only one ruble in her pocket and the light dress and shawl she was arrested in, Vera was exiled to Novgorod. A sympathetic guard, afraid she would freeze, literally gave her the coat off his back. For months, she survived on the charity of villagers and their local church. She was returned to St. Petersburg in June. The government wanted her to testimony.

Nechaev had killed one of his followers. He had escaped abroad but over a hundred of his supporters had been rounded up and put on trial. Why the government wanted Vera’s testimony can only be guessed at. She was incarcerated when the murder occurred. In any case, she was less than cooperative. “I don’t know” or “I don’t recall” were her most usual replies. Others were more outspoken, blaming everything on Nechaev. Among those convicted was Peter Uspensky, Vera’s brother in law. Sentenced to 15 years hard labor, he was murdered in his cell, suspected of being a police informant.

Nechaev was finally arrested and extradited to Russia in 1872. Tried and convicted, his hold on the Russian revolutionary movement collapsed. By then, Vera had no illusions about him. But, for her, the damage was done. Her sole goal was the overthrow the autocracy. The 1870’s were marked by years of exile and increasingly radical activity.

It all came to a head in January 1878. In the mid-1870’s, Russia had witnessed a remarkable movement, ‘going to the people.’ Young men and women left their homes and universities to work among the peasants or take jobs in factories, hoping to foment change. Arrested by the hundreds, many, like Vera, were held for months, then years, without trial.

One of those prisoners was Arkhip Bogoliubov. He was not a remarkable man. He didn’t head any movement nor were his ‘crimes’ any worse than anyone else’s. His only mistake was to be standing in the prison courtyard , talking to friends, when General Feodor Trepov, Governor of St. Petersburg, made an unannounced visit. Already outraged by what he saw as the breakdown of discipline in the prison, Trepov snapped when Bogoliubov refused to remove his cap. Trepov struck the young man and ordered him flogged.

It was a stupid, petty show of tyranny and that was exactly how the press portrayed it. Vera waited to see what would happen. Surely the government wouldn’t get away with something so vile. Trepov had to be punished. He wasn’t. Taking matters into her own hands, Vera returned to St. Petersburg. On the morning of January 24, 1878, she hid a revolver under her shawl and joined the other petitioners lined up to see the Governor. When Trepov approached her, Vera fired twice.

That she didn’t kill him was a miracle. Arrested and put on trial, Vera expected to hang. But neither she nor the prosecutor recognized the mood in the country had changed. Educated society was disgusted with Trepov. Far from condemning the quiet, unassuming Vera, they admired her. She had done what men had feared to do. She’d said ‘enough.’ Then her attorney, Peter Alexandrov, turned the court on its head. He defended Vera—and attacked the government.

The jury deliberated only 30 minutes before Vera was acquitted on all charges. People came to their feet and cheered. Amid rumors the government planned to re-arrest her, Vera was spirited away. Friends convinced her to leave Russia.

A reluctant heroine, Vera continued her revolutionary activities abroad but came to disavow terrorsim. She opposed the October Revolution of 1917 and attacked Lening openly, seeing too much of Nechaev in the man. She predicted what Lenin's brand of Communism would do to Russia. She died in 1919.

(For further reading, Ana Siljak’s Angel of Vengeance: The Girl Assassin, the Governor of St. Petersburg and Russia’s Revolutionary World offers great insights into the event and turbulent period of pre-revolutionary Russia. )

Spies in Pop Culture...How Do I Love Them, Let Me Count The Ways!

2011-08-21T13:53:00.001-04:00

I have a confession...this blog will not deal with spies who made any impact on the events of nations...nope, these spies weren't even real. My blog this month is a tribute to spies in pop culture. I've always been a fan of spy movies and television shows. Even now, I do a little glee-filled dance each time a disc with old episodes of the Avengers arrives in the mail. I love the characters of Emma Peel and John Steed, and must admit that I am among those in the world who loved the Avengers movie with Uma Thurman and Ralph Fiennes, regardless of the critics' opinions. Intrigue, sophistication, and secrecy...delightful! Perhaps it's because I'm a Scorpio. Perhaps it's because I love the gadgets and cars. Who knows why...I only know that I love spies in pop culture.

Of course, the most well-known pop culture spy is Bond, James Bond. Despite his many incarnations with actors who don't even resemble each other (of course, one could say the same of Batman), one thing stays the same: he's the alpha male's alpha male. Daring, smart, and never in need of a nap, he's virility and daring personified. Many think Sean Connery's portrayal of Ian Fleming's creation is the superlative incarnation, but I think Daniel Craig has made the character his own. Gritty and real, he brings a human quality to the Bond character that I feel Connery lacked. I also liked Roger Moore's twinkle in the eye...a totally different take on the character, but very much in keeping with the irreverence of the seventies.

Emma Peel is my idol. Nearly fifty years after the Avengers first aired, Diana Rigg's portrayal of the sleek agent remains the epitome of a female spy. Witty, sophisticated, and the intellectual superior of the men who were foolish enough to confront her, she set the bar high. Ah, to slink along in a cat suit and disarm men with a well-placed kick...such is the fodder of my dreams. Her partner in espionage, John Steed, was immaculately attired and painstakingly well-mannered, yet he could kill a man with his hat and his umbrella without breaking a sweat. Impressive, indeed!

And then, you have Austin...Austin Powers, that is. Yeah, Baby! This character blends the suave, lady-killer spies of the sixties and seventies into one "hairy-like-animal" creation who's bold, a bit obtuse, and ultimately quite a sympathetic character. As a fan of sixties spy flicks, Mike Myers' homage to slick spies like In Like Flint's Derek Flint, James Bond and Michael Caine's Harry Palmer with a touch of Dr. Strangelove mixed in for good measure was a perfect guilty pleasure. I admit to feeling a surge of excitement each time there's a mention of Austin Powers 4 in the works...oh, if only my dreams would come true...

My new release from Ellora's Cave, Claimed by the Spymaster, was inspired by my longstanding fascination with spies. If I had to say which pop culture spy I had in mind, it would be Ralph Fiennes' portrayal of John Steed. British spy Alec Jameson is sophisticated, cultured, and lethal, and he'll stop at nothing to capture a traitor to Queen Victoria's empire.

Here's a little about the story:

Russian actress Valentina Baranova travels to England to marry, but the arrangement is definitely not a love match. Betrothed to a cunning and ruthless English lord, she’s the sweetener in a deal that will put stolen British documents in Russian hands and curry the Czar’s favor for her father. Determined to escape her loathsome intended, she flees him—and promptly falls into the hands of his most bitter enemy. An enemy who stirs her like no other.

Spy for the crown Alec Jameson, Lord Carrington, is on a mission—unmask the traitor responsible for his brother’s death before the blackguard can further betray Queen Victoria’s empire. Capturing Valentina to use as bait, he spirits her away from London. Despite his efforts to resist the alluring captive he’s snatched from his enemy’s grasp, Alec claims Valentina in the most carnal way possible. Once the beauty has been in his bed, he wants her for his own. But she must lay siege to a long-untouched part of Alec’s existence—his heart.

Claimed by the Spymaster is available from Ellora's Cave.

Next month, I promise a more serious look at spies throughout history. But my thoughts as summer winds down, my thoughts are focused on much lighter fare. Hope you'll leave a comment and sound off on your personal favorites in the world of fictional espionage!

Speaking of spies, if you perform some reconnaissance among the Seduced by History postings for the month of August, you can enter the Seduced by History contest. Here are the details:

SEDUCED BY HISTORY AUGUST CONTEST: Seduced by History Blog is hosting a month-long contest in August. One winner will receive a ‘basketful of goodies.’ All you have to do is check in on each blog during the month, look for a contest question to answer and September 1-5, 2011 send in your answers to seducedbyhistoryblog@yahoo.com. For full details, read the information on the right or click the CONTEST page.

My question:

Which fictional spy inspired the character Alec Jameson in Claimed by the Spymaster?

Lady Agnes Randolph, Countess of Dunbar and March

2011-08-20T01:14:00.014-04:00

In 2007 I splurged and bought a copy of the BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY OF HISTORY OF SCOTTISH WOMEN and was amazed at the breath and scope of Scottish women who for centuries have been absent in Scottish history. Sure we all know about Queen Mary of Scots and Flora MacDonald, but what about Caroline Oliphant, Lady Nairne (songwriter, 1845), or Finella (assassin, 995) or Marion Gilchrist (physician, 1894). But one of my favorite Scottish women is…

Lady Agnes Randolph, countess of Dunbar and March

(Black Agnes)

“She kept a stir in tower and trench,

That brawling, boisterous Scottish wench

Came I early, came I late,

I found Agnes at the gate.”

---from a ballad attributed to the Earl of Salisbury

Lady Agnes Randolph was born before 1312, the daughter of Isabel Stewart, a cousin of Walter, the High Steward of Scotland and Sir Thomas Randolph, the first Earl of Moray - a hero of the Scottish Wars of Independence and the man named Regent after the death of Robert the Bruce. He is thought by most historians to be the nephew of King Robert through the first marriage of the king's mother, Marjory Bruce. Agnes married Patrick Dunbar, ninth Earl of Dunbar and March sometime before 1324.

Dunbar Castle in East Lothian was the strategic keep for both the Scots and the English during the two Wars for Scottish Independence After the battle of Bannockburn in 1314, when King Robert Bruce's army routed the army of Edward II, Patrick Dunbar was forced to give sanctuary to Edward at Dunbar before Edward was whisked away to England. Later, Bruce forgave Patrick Dunbar making him guardian of Berwick Castle in 1322. Dunbar tore down his own castle at Dunbar after trying to defend both from the English. However in the second war of Independence, Edward III forced Dunbar to rebuild Dunbar at his own expense to house English soldiers. But in 1338 Dunbar now a patriot of the Scottish cause got it back.

http://www.marie-stuart.co.uk/Castles/Dunbar.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunbar

http://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/dunbar/dunbarcastle/

In early 1338, while Patrick was elsewhere with the Scottish army, Agnes was left to defend the castle against the English Earl of Salisbury. Salisbury thinking a castle held by a woman was easy pickings but he quickly learned Agnes was no ordinary woman, she was a Scot. When Agnes refused to surrender, he catapulted the castle with huge rocks and projectiles, but Agnes rallied her women when there was a lull in the barrage, she signaled her refusal to surrender by having her ladies in their best clothing meet on the ramparts to dust away the mess with white cloths as if they were doing a bit of cleaning, a suitable insult.

Frustrated Salisbury brings in a battering ram, but of course Agnes was ready as she had her men drop one of the huge rocks his army had catapulted into the castle bailey and smash the ram. Salisbury is now really getting frustrated, so hoping to get inside he tries to bribe a local village inhabitant but was thwarted again. Adding to his frustration throughout the siege are Agnes and her ladies continued attemps to thwart him at every turn with verbal insults as if he were less than important.

As the siege has dragged on for weeks, Salisbury decides to bring her brother, Sir John Randolph, the Earl of Moray now a prisoner of the English, to the castle. Sir John was forced to call out to his sister, that if she didn't surrender he would be killed. Agnes in bold Scottish determination replied:"...if he is killed he has no heirs, so his land will become mine." Not quite the reaction Salisbury expected from a loving sister. Randolph was returned to prison and the siege continued on with an impotent Salisbury.

What Salisbury was not aware of was despite the fact his army had the castle surrounded on all sides but one, the water, in the dead of night the townsfolk would row over supplies for those trapped in the castle. When the Scottish hero Alexander Ramsay learned of Agnes's plight and with his 40 Scottish troops he entered the castle through the water entrance to rally those inside. The five months siege ended when Ramsay and his troops surprised the English by riding out the castle gate and attacked the English. Totally surprised the Salisbury’s army scattered, and on June 10, 1338 Salisbury signed a truce and left the castle to Black Agnes.

'The mother of two sons who did not survive her, Agnes died in 1369, and her husband died a few months later. Oddly enough, in 1347 her brother John died with no heirs, and Agnes inherited his wealth/lands. She was called Black Agnes not because she was wickedly evil to the English but because she had a dark complexion.

Jody…

For all those who leave a comment you will be enrolled in a drawing for a copy of David R. Ross’s book Women of Scotland, please leave your email address.

As one who loves the history of Scottish women here is my contest question..

Who was the first Scottish woman to climb Ben Nevis in a bikini and why?

Montgomery Ward Catalog

2011-08-19T00:28:00.001-04:00

By Anna Kathryn Lanier

Yesterday was 129^th anniversary of the launch of an innovative idea that became an American icon. On August 18, 1872 Aaron Montgomery Ward started what would become a 113-year business with the first mail-order catalog on a single sheet of paper. Montgomery was born in New Jersey in 1844, but his father moved the family to Michigan when he was nine. At the age of the fourteen, he became an apprentice for a barrel making factory, before working in a brick factory. He later moved to St. Joseph, where he entered the retail business. Within a few short years, he’d worked his way up from mere clerk to manager, making $100 a month, plus board, excellent pay at that time.

In 1866 Ward moved to Chicago and started working for Field, Palmer and Leiter, the forerunning of Marshall Field and Co. For several years, he travelled by train and horse buggy to rural merchants, listening to complaints from both owners and their customers on the hardships of receiving goods. He decided there had to be a better way of delivering merchandise to rural Americans. Though his idea was considered to be not only radical, but crazy and his first bit of inventory was destroyed in the Great Chicago Fire (1871), he pushed on. With two fellow investors and $1,400, he started his mail-order business with 163 items available.

Both his partners sold out a few years later and his brother-in-law, George Thorne joined the company. With the help of members of the Patrons of Husbandry, the Midwestern farmers’ association, the business grew rapidly from the single sheet of paper advertising merchandise to a 152-page catalog with over 3,000 items in it by 1876.

In 1897 the catalog was 1,000 pages and annual sales were $7 million. By 1910, sales were $21 million and the company employed 7,000 people at their Chicago operations. In another 10 years, by 1920, sales exceeded $100 million in mail orders. A few years later the company opened its first retail store and did well during the Great Depression, with annual sales going from $200 million to $400 million. The company didn’t do as well during the last half of the 20^th Century and in 1985, the company closed its 113-year-old catalog operation. In 2000 it announced the closing of its retail stores.

Throughout the years, Ward's catalog sold all manner of goods. Clothing, underwear, corsets, shoes, cellos, toilets, barbed wire, windmills, bells, bicycles, steam engines, butter molds, clocks and, even, birth control….though it wasn’t called that, of course….could be found between the catalog covers. When the new ‘wish book’ arrived, the old one more than likely was sent to the outhouse for additional usage.

With his novel idea, hard work and the slogan adopted in 1875, “satisfaction guaranteed or your money back,” Montgomery Ward proved to consumers and naysayers alike that reaching the far corners of rural America was good business.

Reference websites:

http://www.reference.com/browse/Montgomery%20Ward

http://encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org/pages/2895.html

http://www.uh.edu/engines/epi1641.htm

My question: How many pages was the very first Montgomery Ward Catalog and how many items did it feature? (information given in two different paragraphs)

Anna Kathryn Lanier
Where Tumbleweeds Hang Their Hatswww.annakathrynlanier.com
www.annakathrynlanier.blogspot.com

The Medieval Take on Marriage of the Aristocracy

2011-08-18T09:42:00.004-04:00

With much ado about royal weddings this year, a historical perspective might curb fairy tale dreams for William and Kate’s marriage. Unlike the modern hope that marriage includes romance and love, medieval society held no such expectations. Marriage was a matter of dynastic survival. In a world where battles over boundaries abounded and family fortunes were decided by the slash of a sword, noble medieval brides were valuable tools to advance their family’s ambitions and dynastic claims.

Betrothed in their infancy, the young noble girl just out of the nursery left her home for her future husband’s land and court to learn the language. There she was to play out her part in a political game whether it be filling her husband’s treasury with her dowry and land, be the embodiment of a strategic alliance or a truce.

Matilda, the daughter of Henry I of England, left her native home in England at age of six to become the bride of Heinrich V of Germany, who was future Holy Roman Emperor. When she turned twelve, the canonical age for marriage, the official wedding took place. Firmly ensconced in her position as a wife, her duties began.

Duties assigned to medieval noble wives were five in number. All carried a risk for the noblewoman.

The crucial task was to provide her husband with a legitimate heir to inherit his titles and land. If the marriage remained childless, two options were available for the families of the bride. If the husband died before the noble woman, his wife was once again the pawn of her family politics. Matilda found herself in such a position in 1127. With Heinrich’s death, her father Henry I of England forced to her marry a man eight years her junior and of inferior status. Her marriage to Geoffroi, the heir of Anjou, protected Henry’s duchy of Normandy from French encroachment. It would also provide his heirs to the English thrown through her bloodlines as Matilda’s brothers were dead.

The other possibility for a woman in a childless marriage was annulment of the marriage. With the Pope willing to annul his marriage, the nobleman was free to find a new wife. His former wife, being barren, was of no use in the medieval political games or in the eyes of medieval society because she had failed in her wifely duty, was shipped off to a convent for the rest of her life. The treatment could also apply for reason of state. When Louis VII’s sister-in-law, Petronilla, needed a husband, the king of France chose his cousin, Raoul, Count of Vermandois. Although the count was married at the time Eleonore of Champagne, the Pope saw no problem of nullifying the first marriage to sanctify a second.

If the lady managed to produce the heir and survive, her next duty was to conduct herself in her husband’s court with a piety and decorum that left her and her children above any scandalous rumors that would cause her husband’s enemies to question the heir’s right to the lands. Otherwise she faced retribution. Her supposed lovers would face execution while she would be imprisoned or executed. The trumped up charges of scandalous love affairs sometimes accompanied reason of state, namely the need for a male heir, for removal of a wife. Anne Boleyn is the most notorious example.

While her husband presided over his court and his lands with an absolute justice, the noble wife had the duty to bring clemency and mercy to those judgments by interceding with her husband. This allowed the king to mete out leniency without jeopardizing his iron authority.

The noble wife’s next task was to secure her husband’s borders and lands while he was away at war or on a crusade. Although her husband had taken over the rule of whatever lands she brought in her dowry, she was his deputy when he was gone or unable to rule. Margaret of Anjou, married to a simpleton, Henry VI of England, had a more difficult task. She fought from 1444 until 1471 to keep control of Henry’s realm in the king’s name. While she was ultimately defeated by the Duke of York and imprisoned, she embodies the struggles to ensure a dynastic line that was the heart of marriage in medieval England.

The final task a noble wife faced was securing and holding her eldest son’s territory for him while he was yet a minor. The fact that Matilda, the daughter of Henry I, was able to negotiate a settlement with Stephen whereby her son Henry II would succeed him proves tenacious women could protect their children’s claim to the throne. However, Margaret of Anjou’s life as a queen reflects the other side. After years of protecting her husband and son, she was unable to defeat the Duke of York. With Henry VI in his possession, the Duke of York waited until he pinned Margaret and her son down when they landed in England in 1471. Prince Edward was killed in the engagement, Margaret was taken prisoner, and Henry died the next day. Margaret lost the battle to save the Lancastrian inheritance of England for her son.

A love match simply wasn’t part of the medieval calculated marriages. As a modern romance writer with modern views on marriage, the actions of the medieval lords against their wives leaves me with plenty of fodder for the two wives my fictitious first Earl of Ryne. There are plenty of indignities that would motivate a woman, or in my case two women, to haunt his castle for five centuries in Wanted Ghostbusting Bride.

For further information about royal brides of medieval England and the politics that swirled about them, read She-Wolves: The Women Who Ruled England Before Elizabeth by Helen Castor.

Who are the four She-Wolves Helen Castor writes about? Hint (Visit my website for the answer)

Margaret Breashears

www.wantedghostbustingbride.com

FUN FACTS ABOUT WOODSTOCK

2011-08-15T02:58:00.002-04:00

by Debby Lee
Sometimes, with the most nonchalant of actions, people make history and they don’t even realize it. Forty-two years ago today, thousands of people walked on to a humble dairy farm in upstate New York, and did just that. They made history.
They traveled from the farthest corners of America in psychedelic buses and Volkswagen Beatles to sway to the rhythm of the music. While most people know about one of the greatest rock concerts of the 20th century, many may not know all the interesting facts behind the story. Here are a few.
-Woodstock was originally scheduled to be held in Wallkill New York. The city got nervous and backed out on a technicality at the last minute. Because of this, the concert nearly didn’t take place.
- In April of 1969, Credence Clearwater Revival was the first band to sign on and agree to play at the concert.
-The first performer on stage was Ritchie Havens who began on Friday. He wasn’t scheduled to be first but many musicians were stuck in traffic and were unable to arrive on time. Jimi Hendrix was the last performer who wrapped things up on Monday.
-The concert actually took place closer to the town of Bethel and not the town of Woodstock as many people might assume. Bethel is 43 miles from Woodstock.
-The cost of attending Woodstock for three days was 18 dollars. Tickets were sold in advance. Many people attended for free due to a combination of overcrowding and unprepared concert organizers.
-The Who had the longest play list with 24 songs. The Quill had the shortest with a performance of only one song.
-Charles Schultz is said to have named one of his Peanuts characters Woodstock, in honor of the music festival.
-Max Yasger died of a heart attack in 1973. He received a full page obituary in Rolling Stone magazine for his contribution to music. A rare honor indeed. Thank you Mr. Yasger.
I would have loved to have attended the music and arts festival of the century, but I was only three years old at the time. I missed out on the peace, the love and the camaraderie, and yes, the mud, the cold and the hunger too. But sometimes great moments are a combination of hitting the high notes with perfect pitch and playing off key in a tone deaf band.
So, next time life throws some glitches into your melody, try to learn something from the experience and love your brothers in the process. You never know, you just might be making history.

Thank you for taking the time to stroll down memory lane with me. I hope you enjoyed the journey. Look for my short story, Butterflies Are Free, coming soon from Books to Go Now. Feel free to visit my newly updated web site at booksbydebbylee.com

Question of the day. How many Woodstock performers can you name? Hint: a few are named in the article. Answer the question in the comment section of the blog and be entered to win a Woodstock button (not from the actual festival) and a copy of my short story Butterflies Are Free, when it comes out.

Why I was seduced by history

2011-08-13T00:36:00.004-04:00

Why I was seduced by history

I was seduced by history by my history, if that makes sense. I was born in Illinois, and for the first seven years of my life my family lived either with or across the alley from my paternal grandparents. And my material grandparents lived in the next little town a whole seven miles away.

We went back to Illinois every summer until after I graduated from high school. I spent those summer sitting on the front porch at the family reunions with tons of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and great aunts and uncles, second cousins – you name it, they were there. And they all talked about when they were kids, or told the stories they had heard from their parents.

So I always knew my family’s histories, and where I fit into the scheme of thing (luck me!). So I grew up hearing the stories of my ancestors told of growing up in the 19th century, or with Indians, or wild animals, or the weather. Going to school, it seemed a logical choice to study history – because it just to story of people.

And teaching history lead me to the writing of historical romance. Researching this historical periods is easy and a lot of fun for me. When I write, I like to think that the characters I’m writing about lived just down the lane from my ancestors.

This was especially true when I wrote my first book, Kentucky Green, I used a lot of thing I remembered from my family’s stories in this book. One was my great grandmother’s dislike of soft butter, so my grandmother chore as a little girl was to walk down to the spring house where the butter was stored and bring it up for each meal.

I also have a scene where my heroine is churning butter, which was another of my grandmother’s jobs, so I had my heroine use the same rhyme that my grandmother used.

“Come (up) butter (down), come (up).
Come (down) butter (up), come (down).
Little Peter (up) at the gate (down), for his buttered (up) bread does wait (down)
Come (up) butter (down), come (up).

Writing historical allows me to keep the past alive, for me, and hopefully for my readers.

Why were you seduced by history? Family? A favorite teacher? Or just lucky?

The Greatest Civil War Battle You've Never Heard Of

2011-08-12T01:08:00.003-04:00

By McKenna Darby

A Civil War-era view of Battery Buchanan, the highest battery at Fort Fisher. Thanks to the fort, Wilmington, N.C., was the last Confederate port to fall to the Union.

Shiloh. Antietam. Cold Harbor. Gettysburg.

Most Americans, even if they don’t remember the details of the U.S. Civil War’s great conflicts, will never forget their names. But one of the war’s greatest offensives – the largest combined land-sea assault in the history of warfare until D-Day – may be the greatest Civil War engagement you’ve never heard of: The First and Second Battles of Fort Fisher.

Even today, the eroded remains of Fort Fisher, built under the command of Confederate Col. William Lamb, stand at the southern tip of New Hanover County, North Carolina, on a thin strip of land wedged between the Cape Fear River and the Atlantic Ocean.

From its highest batteries, the fort’s guns could pick off any ship of the Union blockading squadron foolish enough to stray within five miles of the Carolina coast. Known as “the Confederate Goliath,” the earthwork fort guarded New Inlet, the main access from the Atlantic into the Cape Fear River, which twists and turns 17 miles until it reaches the scenic port city of Wilmington, North Carolina.

Wilmington, which is still a port today, as well as a thriving resort town, was the Confederacy’s leading port for most of the Civil War, thanks in large part to geography. With Norfolk and Baltimore in Union hands almost from the start of the war, Wilmington was the Confederate port closest to the main battle lines in Virginia. The city also was a quick four-day sail from Bermuda, one of the Confederacy’s chief sources of supply. The Wilmington & Weldon railroad, which ran from Wilmington north to Virginia, easily moved everything from rifles to medical supplies to Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s army and the Confederate capitol in Richmond.

Fort Fisher was as important to Wilmington as Wilmington was to the Confederacy. Its guns kept the Union naval blockade so far from shore that blockade runners managed to slip into Wilmington on an almost daily basis. Fort Fisher was so vital to the Confederate war effort, in fact, that Gideon Welles, US Secretary of the Navy, lobbied throughout the war for soldiers to help in attacking the fort, but failed to win the cooperation of Union General Ulysses S. Grant, who preferred to use his troops to keep the pressure on Lee.

Early in 1864, however, with his re-election in doubt and the war going badly, President Abraham Lincoln desperately needed a win. Convinced by Welles that closing Wilmington could provide the boost he needed, he asked Grant to reconsider. On the advice of William Tecumseh Sherman that cutting off the Confederacy’s last source of supply was well worth the risk, Grant agreed to support an attack on Fort Fisher.

War is a disorganized business, though. By the time the first assault finally launched on Christmas Eve 1864, Sherman had taken Atlanta, Lincoln had been reelected, and the political and strategic importance of felling Wilmington had diminished. Although they had sustained the South for three years, Wilmington and Fort Fisher became minor footnotes in the story of the war.

It’s a quirk of history that has haunted me since I first visited Fort Fisher thirty years ago, so it’s no surprise that Wilmington and the fort in the last year of the war became the backdrop for my manuscript Traitor to Love. Although their sacrifice is little remembered, the actions of those who fought and died at Fort Fisher helped to hasten the end of one of the saddest chapters in our nation’s history. Theirs is a tale well worth knowing, and I hope the story I've woven around it will help to attract more people to explore the history behind the fiction.

McKenna Darby writes historical novels with elements of suspense and romance. Visit her at http://mckennadarby.com

Seduced by History Blog is hosting a month-long contest in August.  One winner will receive a ‘basketful of goodies.’  All you have to do is check in on each blog during the month, look for a contest question to answer andSeptember 1-5, 2011 send in your answers toseducedbyhistoryblog@yahoo.com.

Prizes award to one lucky winner include:  Victoria Gray’s book "Angel in My Arms",  "Spirit of the Mountain" package from Paty Jager,  Cynthia Owens’s book  "Coming Home",  a Kansas basket from Renee Scott, Anna Kathryn Lanier’s ebook “Salvation Bride and gift basket, “Stringing Beads - Musings of a Romance Writer” by Debra K. Maher,  Eliza Knight’s ebooks “A Pirate’s Bounty” and “A Lady’s Charade”,  Anne Carrole’s book (that's my book:) “Return to Wayback,” a 4 gb jump drive, a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card, and more!
All entries must be received by midnight Monday, September 5, 2011 to be eligible for the drawing. A winner will be chosen from all those eligible on or about September 6, 2011 and contacted by email.  Odds of winning will depend on the number of total number of entries received.

Here's my question: I've given you the date for the start of the First Battle of Fort Fisher. When did the Second Battle start?

GHOST SHIPS OF THE GREAT LAKES: THE EDMUND FITZGERALD

2011-08-09T00:11:00.005-04:00

by Joan K. Maze

When searching for another legend to write about, I found an article about Ghost Ships of the Great Lakes, which captured my interest, one of the most famous being The Edmund Fitzgerald, which sank in Lake Superior on November 10, 1975.

The Fitzgerald cleared Superior, Wisconsin on November 9, 1975 with a cargo of 26,116 tons of taconite pellets destined for Detroit. In company with Arthur M. Anderson of the United States Steel Corporation’s Great Lakes Fleet, the ship encountered heavy weather and flounder.

The captain, McSorley, reported he was having difficulty, was taking on water and listing. Two of three ballast pumps were working, she lost radar, and he was heard on the radio, saying, “don’t allow nobody (sic) on deck.” He also said it was the worst storm he’d ever seen.

All 29 crew, along with a Great Lakes Maritime cadet, perished, and the ship lies in two sections in 530 feet of water.

According to records, the National Transportation Safety Board voted, unanimously, to reject the Coast Guard’s official report, which supported the theory of faulty hatches. The NTSB claimed it was due to taking on water through hatch covers damaged by heavy seas.

The Lake Carriers Association disagrees with this and blames it on ballast tank damage, whiled the Coast Guard cites faulty hatch covers and lack of water tight cargo hold bulkheads, damage caused from an undetermined source.

The legend of the Fitzgerald has lived on in song as well as many sightings of the ship still sailing the Great Lakes to this day. …in 1985 a commercial vessel is recorded to have seen the Fitzgerald.

The stories of ill-fated ships stirs the imagination. Think of the tragic figures that you could write about in about in a novel: a wife waiting for the return of her captain husband, a young woman tracing her roots and discovering her father went down on a “ghost ship” such as the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Perhaps she catches a glimpse of a man at the helm of a ship that disappears right before her eyes.

The prospects are endless. They sure have captured my imagination.

I’d love to know if any of you have written, or plan to write a book because of unexpected research.

A Way With Words

2011-08-08T00:01:00.000-04:00

Since both my novels, In Sunshine or in Shadow and Coming Home, are set in Ireland, it’s safe to say I’ve had a deep love for all things Irish for a long time. I love the music, the myths and legends, the soft mist that hangs over the mountains. But most of all I love the people, and their unique way with words. Some call it blarney, some the “gift of the gab.” I just call it magic.

So today I decided to share a few of my favorite Irish proberbs.

It’s a fine day for young ducks

Distant hills look green.

There’s hope from the ocean, but none from the grave. ~ An emigrant’s proverb.

Melodious is the closed mouth.

Every man’s mind is his kingdom.

There is no need like the lack of a friend.

The man who pays the piper calls the tune.

He who has water and peat on his own farm has the world his own way.

The older the fiddle, the sweeter the tune.

It’s not a delay to stop and sharpen the scythe.

Credit Island Ireland, an Internet guide to Irish art, culture and environment.

Prizes award to one lucky winner include: Victoria Gray’s book "Angel in My Arms", "Spirit of the Mountain" package from Paty Jager, Cynthia Owens’s book "Coming Home", a Kansas basket from Renee Scott, Anna Kathryn Lanier’s ebook “Salvation Bride and gift basket, “Stringing Beads - Musings of a Romance Writer” by Debra K. Maher, Eliza Knight’s ebooks “A Pirate’s Bounty” and “A Lady’s Charade”, Anne Carrole’s book (that's my book:) “Return to Wayback,” a 4 gb jump drive, a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card, and more!

All entries must be received by midnight Monday, September 5, 2011 to be eligible for the drawing. A winner will be chosen from all those eligible on or about September 6, 2011 and contacted by email. Odds of winning will depend on the number of total number of entries received.

So here's my question, and it's an easy one: What are some of your favorite proverbs, sayings, or words of wisdom, and where do they come from?

How Waitresses Fed the Western Expansion: The Harvey Girls

2011-08-07T00:01:00.003-04:00

El Garces, Hotel Harvey

Waitressing may not seem an unusual occupation for a woman, but in the late 1800’s it was almost unheard of for a woman to be serving people in a public establishment, unless, of course, she was a dance hall girl in a saloon. That changed when Fred Harvey, an Englishman, began to open up The Harvey Houses along the Santa Fe Railroad line starting in 1878. Harvey was one of the first to employ women of “good character” to serve the railroad patrons who were traveling west over several days where stopovers to eat at a respectable and well ordered establishment were a welcome respite. With the founding of the Harvey House restaurants, hotels, and resorts, Fred Harvey and the Santa Fe Railroad also began an experiment in something new for the Wild West—tourism.

In keeping with the age, Fred Harvey initially employed men and only men to work in his restaurants. But after a midnight brawl by waiters at his Raton, New Mexico establishment, Fred Harvey took the advice of his new manager and hired women because they were less likely “to get likkered up and go on tears…Those waitresses were the first respectable women the cowboys had ever seen—that is outside their own wives and mothers. Those roughnecks learned manners.” (Quoted from Tom Gable as cited in The Harvey Girls: Women Who Opened The West, by Lesley Poling-Kempes, p.42)

These upstanding waitresses were popular with both patrons and the community to such an extent that Fred Harvey decided to replace the waiters in all his restaurants with women. A major obstacle would be convincing single women of good virtue to venture into the rough and ready frontier towns filled with saloons and the cowboys, railroad men, and prostitutes who frequented them.

Fred Harvey sought “women who were well educated (in 1880s, this meant having completed high school or at least the eighth grade) and exhibited good manners, clear speech, and neatness in appearance. Vulgarity of any kind would not be tolerated. Upon acceptance, a young woman usually had only twenty-four hours to say her goodbyes at home before she began rigorous training. When a Harvey Girl signed her contract for twelve, nine, or six months, she agreed to learn the Harvey system, follow instructions to the letter, obey employee rules, accept whatever locations she was assigned to for work, and abstain from marriage during the duration of her initial contract.” The Harvey Girls: Women Who Opened The West, by Lesley Poling Kempes, p. 43

Harvey Girls worked hard, putting in a good day’s labor, though every account says that Fred Harvey was a fair employer who treated his staff with respect and care. In most cases a Harvey girl was required to work two to three meal shifts a day with just thirty minutes to feed upwards of 50 passengers at a time over eight trains, but there were plenty of staff to make it happen, from cooks to butchers to bus boys and from fifteen to thirty Harvey Girls per establishment. There was opportunity for promotion up the ranks and, on rare occasions, a woman could even become a manager where she would receive equal pay to a man—something often not true today.

Well aware that in the West, particularly, a waitress was often thought to be a prostitute as well, Fred Harvey lifted up waitressing to a professional standard by mandating that these single women reside in Harvey House dormitories on premises in “beautiful and well-kept rooms” under the guardianship of a house mother enforcing a strict curfew. Adhering to a universal Harvey Girls uniform, a Harvey Girl presented the picture of virtue with no make-up allowed and starched black and white skirts and bibs and aprons with hems no more than eight inches from the floor. Enforcing high standards assured the public that these were women of good moral character to be treated with the respect due a lady.

Thousands of women applied during the Harvey House period spanning 1883 until the 1950s. Here was an opportunity for independence previously unavailable to women, with the exception of becoming a teacher.

Harvey Girls were paid an average of “$17.50/month” with free room and board and railroad passes- http://www.florenceks.com/text/local/local_hh-girls.htm Compare this to the cowboy at the time who generally earned about $30/month with keep. Still, for a woman, these were considered good wages in a protected environment with the added bonus of adventure and, possibly, a marriage proposal. Minnie O’Neal became a Harvey Girl around 1885 in Raton, New Mexico and ended up married to the ranch foreman of Senator Stephen Dorsey’s ranch. Her experience was not uncommon. “It is estimated that more than 100,000 girls worked for Harvey House restaurants and hotels and of those, 20,000 married their regular customers.”- http://www.florenceks.com/text/local/local_hh-girls.htm

Fred Harvey worked with farming schedules, allowing time off during summer months to those who were needed on the farm and replacing them temporarily with teachers who needed work during summer months. Particularly in later years and through the depression, The Harvey Houses were known to help employees, including women, obtain a college education in the communities that had colleges or universities, by providing accommodating schedules for those who wished to attend classes.

The Harvey Girls were immortalized in Sam Adams’ book of the same name and romanticized in the MGM movie where there was much singing and dancing but not as much hard work as reality would suggest. The romance, however, appears to have been true. For those of you who have never seen the movie or would like a quick jog down memory lane, here is the movie trailer:

The Harvey Girls are one more example of women making their way out west for a new life in a role unthinkable at the time in eastern environs. As Will Rogers, an enthusiastic and loyal Harvey House customer, said: “In the early days, the traveler fed on the buffalo. For doing so, the buffalo got his picture on the nickel. Well, Fred Harvey should have his picture on the one side of a dime, and one of his waitresses with her arms full of delicious ham and eggs on the other side, ‘cause they have kept the West supplied with food and wives.” (Quoted in The Harvey Girls: Women who Opened the West by Lesley Poling Kempes, p. 102)

Prizes award to one lucky winner include: Victoria Gray’s book "Angel in My Arms", "Spirit of the Mountain" package from Paty Jager, Cynthia Owens’ book "Coming Home", a Kansas basket from Renee Scott, Anna Kathryn Lanier’s ebook “Salvation Bride and gift basket, “Stringing Beads - Musings of a Romance Writer” by Debra K. Maher, Eliza Knight’s ebooks “A Pirate’s Bounty” and “A Lady’s Charade”, Anne Carrole’s book (that's my book:) “Return to Wayback,” a 4 gb jump drive, a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card, and more!

Here's my question for you to answer: Who starred in the MGM film The Harvey Girls and made famous the song the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe? Hint: check out the trailer for the answer.

Anne Carrole writes about cowboys who have grit, integrity and little romance on their mind and the women who love them. You can check out her contemporary romance, Re-ride at the Rodeo, at The Wild Rose Press. She also is co-editor of the review website, www.lovewesternromances.com