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Category: Regency

A week ago, I asked everyone what they would most enjoy if they were magically transported back to the Regency, and had tons of money and clout to ease the way.

This week, I’d like to ask the opposite question: What would you least enjoy about your new Regency life? What one thing would be most likely to stop you from going back and living a luxurious Regency life?


Would it be the antiquated medical care?

The non-existent rights that women (and many others) had?

Would you miss “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” “Harry Potter,” or “Lord of the Rings” too much?


Would you not be able to live without pizza, Thai food, or Godiva chocolate?

Would it be the lack of music by the Beatles, Tchaikovsky, Nirvana, George Gershwin, or Scott Joplin?

Would it be the poor heating? Or the poor plumbing?

The lack of free public libraries?

What would be the fly in the ointment of your Regency fantasy?

Cara
Cara King, www.caraking.com
MY LADY GAMESTER — out now from Signet Regency!!!

Posted in Regency | 17 Replies

I’m recycling a blog post from a year or so ago about my ideal Regency job. I spent last weekend with the lovely ladies of Virginia Romance Writers at their conference, where I spoke on servants, so this is timely. And Amanda, have you opened the vampire bar yet?
The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking elderly woman, much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her.
After Amanda’s exotic and glamorous plans to open a vampire bar, I thought I’d like to describe my ideal Regency job as a housekeeper.

Just imagine it. All that power! Solely in charge of the nutmeg and other spices and maybe even the tea, gliding silently around the corridors of the great house and coming upon servant hanky-panky, unless the slight jangling from your chatelaine betrayed your presence. This lovely example is from early eighteenth century Holland (I think. An ebay find which I couldn’t afford) with a St. Christopher motif.

Just the position if you were a gentlewoman widowed and down on her luck, like Mrs. Fairfax in Jane Eyre (and then I’d be Judi Dench too!).

Or even the unmarried and troublesome member of the family who needs to be shuffled off somewhere to learn the folly of her ways and spend some time brewing stuff in the stillroom.

Housekeepers got nice, fat salaries, too, augmented with tips from tourists if they worked in a great house. When Darcy’s housekeeper (the one described in my opening quote) finished showing Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle around, you may be absolutely sure she had her hand held out. It was quite a cottage industry.

What’s your ideal Regency job?

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, a lovely day for me. My daughter gave me a gift, selected from my Amazon wish list- a vegetable grilling pan for the outdoor grill. And this lovely card:

This image is called “Another World” by artist Paul C Milner

To me it perfectly conveys that feeling of being lost in a book

My daughter’s boyfriend gave me flowers, which one of the cats promptly chewed on. We rescued this one:

Along with the dh, we went to brunch, sat outside in beautiful weather and had a very enjoyable meal.

So in my lazy afternoon, I went searching for Regency quotes about mothers for today’s blog:

Let’s start with the Bard, earlier than the Regency, of course, but known to them:

Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime
William Shakespeare

I found a quote from Coleridge:

The love of a mother is the veil of a softer light between the heart and the heavenly father
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

That was it! That was the only Regency era quote I found. There were plenty of quotations about mothers in the later years which made me wonder if Motherhood only started to become revered during the Victorian era.

Here’s a really beautiful example:

Women know
The way to rear up children (to be just)
They know a simple, merry, tender knack
Of tying sashes, fitting baby shoes,
And stringing pretty words that make no sense, 
And kissing full sense into empty words–
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And here’s one, no time frame known, just for fun:

A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his mother the longest
Irish Proverb

Do you have a favorite saying about mothers?
Did you have a good Mother’s Day?

Posted in Regency | Tagged | 4 Replies

Long ago when I was writing The Wagering Widow, I created a fictitious gambling house run by “Madame Bisou.” I used the gambling house again in A Reputable Rake and Innocence and Impropriety. So, as I was starting my new gambling house story, I resurrected Madame Bisou’s establishment. Why reinvent the wheel?

Gambling houses or gaming “hells” appear often in Regency romances, but what were they really like?
The History of Gambling in England by John Ashton gives us a good idea.
Ashton quotes a 1817 pamphlet that describes some of the actual gambling houses of the period:

BENNET STREET, ST JAMES’S. CORNER HOUSE–RED BAIZE DOOR–called A CLUB HOUSE: This is what is called a topping house, where high rank and title resort. We mentioned in the poem (the Annual Register also included a long poem about gaming houses) the luck of a certain Duke’s son there; and, of late, there has been a lucky run in favour of the frequenters of the bank–but lauda finem. Its crisis has arrived. The noble  Marquess, on the night that he lost the money at No. 40 which was closed against him, went full charged with the Tuscan grape, and attacked poor Fielder, vi et pugnis, and, at length, was necessitated to leave this house also….The receipts of these houses are immense: We know the wife a proprietor of a hell…who was so majestic in her attire, that she gained the name of Proserpine.

MRS. LEACH’S, No. 6 KING STREET, ST JAMES’S: is a particularly snug and quiet shop, and the name of the proprietor is singularly appropriate. This concern is suspended.

THE ELDER DAVIS, No. 10 KING STREET, ST JAMES’S: Is but a small affair, recently opened. It gets on swimmingly.

Most of the gambling houses had a Hazard Table. Hazard is a dice game, the precursor to Craps. There is some strategy involved in which numbers the player selects to role, but it is essentially a game of chance which always favors the house. Some houses had other games of pure chance like Rouge et Noir and Faro, both played with a deck of cards.
Gaming houses could make vast fortunes with these games of chance as this description states:

No. 10 ST JAMES’S SQUARE. A low HOUSE, HUMOROUSLY CALLED the Pidgeon hole: This snug little trap is doing remarkably well. Fama volat, that it has netted thirty thousand within twelve months.

My fictional gambling house needs to make lots of money quickly, so needless to say it specializes in games of chance!
Do you like gaming hell stories? What are your favorites?
Did you ever read the traditional Regency (a Signet, I think) that had the villain taking secret photographs in a gaming hell at night? Great research on that one….
Don’t you love the smattering of Latin and French that crops up in some of the writings during the Regency?

Today is the anniversary of the day when Dartmoor Prison opened its doors (so to speak) to French prisoners of war in 1809. The prison was constructed 1806-1809 to contain the overflow of French prisoners from the hulks, notorious for their high mortality rates and wretched living conditions. Dartmoor may not have been much better, considering that  over 1,500 men died there, including prisoners from the War of 1812. This is the cemetery which has been restored by volunteers.

I poked around on the web a bit and came up with some fascinating stuff about Dartmoor–the stuff of fiction (and I’m sure it’s been done). For instance, officers were allowed parole and became involved with the local community, some marriages taking place, according to the Moretonhampstead Historical Society. (Confusingly but understandably Moretonhampstead is also known as Moreton.)

The POWs were  eager to pitch in during a crisis, as in 1808 when the Dolphin Inn caught fire and put other buildings in danger:

About noon a fire broke out at the Dolphin public house, kept by Mr Wm. Tozer, which raged with alarming violence over several houses, threatening the destruction of a great part of the town… its progress was happily stopped, by the energetic exertions of the inhabitants, the Moreton volunteers…

It was pleasing to see about 1,500 people of different languages and colours uniting with great cheerfulness in making breaches to stop the progress of the flames, in removing furniture and goods to places of security, and in carrying water to supply a powerful engine, which was kept constantly at work at different points for several hours.

And in the evening, the thanks of a meeting of gentlemen at the White Hart was ordered to be communicated through Captn Ponsford to the volunteers and the foreigners who assisted. More

Different languages and colours–that’s significant. We know there were black POWs–the above source mentions that in the previous year, “General Rochambeau, a French Officer with a black servant, came here on parole from Wincanton, Somerset.” It suggests that more than just officers were enjoying the pleasures of parole–maybe regular soldiers hired themselves out as servants to get out for a while?–and who pitched in so enthusiastically to put out the fire.

The General’s servant certainly had the opportunity to socialize:

Married with licence Peter the Black, servant to General Rochambeau, to Susanna Parker. The bells rang merrily all day.  From the novelty of this wedding being the first negro ever married in Moreton, a great number assembled in the churchyard, and paraded down the street with them.

But there weren’t so many happy endings connected with Dartmoor. More, it was a history of misery, culminating in the massacre of April 6, 1815. We don’t really know what happened. Certainly the prisoners, living in harsh conditions, and well after the end of the War of 1812, were enraged that they were still in captivity. The warden, Captain Shortland, exhibited terrible judgment; he may have believed an escape was planned, but almost certainly the dispute started when he prevented distribution of bread to the prisoners, and ended with his orders to fire on them. Seven died, including a boy of fourteen. Between thirty and sixty were wounded. A joint British-American panel later investigated the tragedy and paid reparation to the families of the dead men.

Captain Shortland went at the head of the soldiers and ordered all of the prisoners back. They refused and, as the bread wagon was at this moment making a delivery to the stores, there was a fear that the prisoners might attempt to take control. Again the order was given to return while the soldiers fixed bayonets and began to advance. They were about three paces from the prisoners but still the Americans stood firm and refused to back down. The order to charge was given and the prisoners instantly broke and ran as fast as possible to the safety of their prisons. There were thousands of Americans desperately trying to get back into the buildings but they could not do so quickly. The order to fire was given, there is some doubt as to who by, but the Americans later insisted that it was Captain Shortland. The soldiers obeyed and fired a full volley. The volleys were repeated for several rounds with prisoners falling dead and wounded all around. The Complete Illustrated History of Dartmoor Prison by Ron Joy. Quoted by Illinois War of 1812 Society.

On the topic of escape–you have to remember that one of the (unofficial) trades of Devon was smuggling, and who better than to help, for a price, prisoners escape. Records exist of the more unsuccessful attempts.

More sources. They’re scattered, but some records exist at the UK National Archives and you can find a bibliography from the Moretonhampstead Historical Society. First-hand accounts exist at the Navy Department Library in Washington, DC, including this one with its frontispiece of the prison:

Journal, of a Young Man of Massachusetts, Late a Surgeon on Board an American Privateer, Who Was Captured at Sea by the British . . . and Was Confined First, at Melville Island, Halifax, Then at Chatham, in England, and Last, at Dartmoor Prison. Interspersed with Observations, Anecdotes and Remarks, Tending to Illustrate the Moral and Political Characters of Three Nations. To Which Is Added, a Correct Engraving of Dartmoor Prison, Representing the Massacre of American Prisoners. Written by Himself. Boston: printed by Rowe & Hooper, 1816.

I find this history of Dartmoor both sad and fascinating. Do you have any recommendations for books, fiction or nonfiction, about Dartmoor and its prisoners?

And oh gosh, a late addition, The Malorie Phoenix for Kindle is now on sale for 99 cents. Go grab it and please please write me a review (if you like it).