Posts in which we talk about research
I need to finish my book today, the start of a new series of four books. The series will be called The Scandalous Summerfields and I’ll be talking more about it and about this book as time goes on.
At this point in the book, my hero and heroine are in Brussels and it is the eve of the Battle of Waterloo. It seems fitting, then, that I should entertain you with images of the battle.
I’ll be back with a proper blog next week!
I am down to the last week before my current WIP will (hopefully!) be done and am getting close to the Battle of Waterloo. My hero and heroine are both in Brussels and are planning to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s Ball, that famous ball that took place the evening that Wellington learned that Napoleon was on the march in Belgium. So I’ve been immersing myself in Waterloo Youtube videos and reading about the ball.
Did you know for years the actual location of the ball was the subject of debate? It was long thought to have taken place in the Hotel de Ville in the Grand Place in Brussels, not because there was any evidence to that fact, though.
Other locations suggested were the Duke of Richmond’s coach house and stables. In the Illustrated London News in the mid-nineteenth century, the location of the ball was listed as being at the Maison du Roi, the king’s palace, a grand location, but, again, totally false.
The true location is described by a very credible source–The Duchess’s daughter who was present at the ball.
She says:
My mother’s now famous ball took place in a large room on the ground floor, on the left of the entrance, connected with the rest of the house by an anteroom. It had been used by the coach builder, from whom the house was hired, to put carriages in, but it was papered before we came there; and I recollect the paper — a trellis pattern with roses. My sisters used the room as a schoolroom, and we used to play battledore and shuttlecock there on a wet day.*
The house the Richmonds rented was on the Rue de la Blanchisserie, so named because a laundry once existed on the site. Wellington used to refer to the residence as “the Wash House,” which he thought was pretty funny and the Duchess of Richmond, a prickly sort of woman, didn’t. In any event, her daughter’s description was pretty clear that it wasn’t any of those other places.
For a beautiful description of the ball, see Amanda’s 2008 Risky Regencies blog
By the way, in my YouTube viewing I discovered two other pretty blatant errors. In one video, they stated the date of the Battle of Waterloo to be July 18, 1815 instead of June 18 (who am I to remark upon that? My book Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress contained the same mistake, a typo, in my case). Another video kept calling Wellington the “future Duke of Wellington,” but he received that title in 1814 after Napoleon’s first abdication.
And while we are on the subject, I am ALL ENVY at Susanna’s plans to attend the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo!!!
*from The Duchess of Richmond’s Ball 15 June 1815 by David Miller
Have you come across any grievous historical errors lately?
One of the unexpected pleasures of writing Regency Historicals for me is researching how people lived. I’m fascinated by the mundane details of life, like what flowers grew, what food would be eaten, what furniture would be in what room. On my England tours, I asked questions everywhere about the details of carpets that were on the floors.
I tend to forget that my lovely Virginia Commonwealth has a lot of history, as well, dating back to the 1600s when Jamestown was founded. (We aren’t a state, by the way; we’re a commonwealth–according to the Hornbook of Virginia History, “A commonwealth is ‘a state in which the supreme power is vested in the people.’ The term was first given to Virginia in the 1600s)
Last Monday, the dh and I celebrated our wedding anniversary with a trip to Westmoreland County in Virginia’s Northern Neck, the peninsula bounded by the Potomac and Rappahannock Rivers and the Chesapeake Bay. See more about our trip here.
This area was filled with wealthy tobacco plantations and was the birthplace of many of our important historical figures: George Washington, James Madison, James Monroe, the two Lees who signed the Declaration of Independence, and, at Stratford Hall, the place we visited, Confederate General Robert E. Lee.
Stratford Hall was built in 1730 by Colonel Thomas Lee who was then acting Governor of the colony. Two of his sons were the Lees who signed the Declaration of Independence. The house was built in the Georgian style, which would have been much the fashion in England at the time–very symmetrical. The main floor of the house included a Great Hall for grand entertaining, the dining room, bedchambers, parlors and the library. In the library, books were kept under lock and key; they were considered quite precious.
We had a fabulous guide to take us through the house and explain its features and history. (that’s me in the pink. The people in hats were, coincidentally, from England!)
I saw many familiar-looking tables, chairs, bureaus, wardrobes, beds. The house was furnished much like the English country houses I’d visited on my tours.
I noticed, though, that the floors were bare. When I went on those tours of country houses in England, remember, I always asked about carpets. Almost every room had carpets of some kind. Our guide to Stratford Hall said they kept the floors bare, because the carpets would have been hard to keep clean. They might have had painted sail cloth (oil cloth) floor covering, but no carpets.
I can just imagine some wealthy gentleman from England visiting a house like Stratford Hall in the Colonies. What the Virginians would have considered quite opulent, such an English visitor must have thought very provincial. The wealthy Virginian visiting a country house in England, like Chatsworth or Burghley House, must have walked around with his mouth open.
What “great houses,” historical or otherwise, have you visited lately?
I’m still doing my Goodreads Contest!
Giveaway ends June 17, 2014.
See the giveaway details
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Today we welcome guest Elizabeth Cole, author of both historical and contemporary romance. Previously, she worked in bookshops, libraries, and archives…anywhere there were books to be read and cared for. Now she can be found hanging around museums, coffeeshops, and (occasionally) graveyards. In addition to her sweet Regency novellas, Elizabeth is currently writing the SECRETS OF THE ZODIAC, a series of romantic spy thrillers also set in the Regency period. Take it away, Elizabeth!
My newest novel, A Reckless Soul, is set in the Regency, just like the other books in the Secrets of the Zodiac series. Taking place in 1806, it’s the story of two determined spies—one British, one French—who must work together to defeat an enemy who threatens both of them.
When researching for the story, however, I had to go back a little further. My heroine is French, and she grew up in Paris during the tumultuous period following the French Revolution. It’s a fascinating time filled with not only real history but a lot of legend and propaganda, too. One of the most interesting urban legends was the “Victims’ Ball.” What’s that, you ask?
Maybe you remember this little ghost story: One night in Paris, a young man meets a beautiful woman in a graveyard. She looks sad, wearing a red ribbon around her neck. Of course, the young man falls in love with her instantly (he’s French, after all!). He begins to court her, and every night he falls deeper and deeper in love. There’s just one problem. She never takes off the red ribbon, and soon he’s obsessed with it. So one night, he catches the end of the ribbon, unties it, and OOPS! her head falls right off. Turns out, she was the ghost of a woman beheaded by the guillotine. How tragic! How very French!
I first read that story as a child, in a collection of gruesome tales. But the tale is linked to another urban legend, that of the Victims’ Ball. According to later historians, including Thomas Carlyle in his book, French Revolution, after the Terror ended, the French aristocracy reasserted itself. One of the ways they did was to form morbid dancing societies. To be invited, you had to be “victime” of the guillotine, which meant that you had to be a close relative of someone who had died by the blade. No family martyrdom? No invite. Talk about cliquish!
Once you had your invitation, you also had to dress properly. There was a very specific look that attendees of the bals des victimes aimed for. Women wore beautiful, filmy dresses trimmed with—you guessed it—red ribbons. Some dresses had the ribbons in a cross-back pattern over the shoulder blades. It was the sartorial equivalent of telling the executioner “x marks the spot”. And of course, ladies wore red ribbons around their necks! 
It was not uncommon to sport a haircut called à la victime, which was a style with a dark inspiration. Anyone with long hair had it chopped off before ascending the platform to be killed. You wouldn’t want the guillotine blade to get a lot of hair on it, of course. That’s messy and inefficient! Hence, the surprisingly modern-looking cut worn by the later imitators. I could see Miley Cyrus rocking this cut.
Now, these bals des victimes were ostensibly private, but the idea was too salacious to ignore, and reports of the balls were published in French and British newspapers. Later scholars have found little evidence for the balls, and the current conclusion it that the “Victims’ Balls” were either made up, or perhaps happened once or twice and were gossiped about a lot more than they actually happened. It seems possible some of the reports (especially in Britain) were published just to make the French look crazy and decadent…and to sell more papers. It was basically an early 19th century version of clickbait.
Since I’m a writer of fiction, I had no problem including a reenactment of the Victims’ Ball in A Reckless Soul. Whether the history of these dances is 100% accurate I couldn’t say…but the dramatic potential of such a scene is just too good to pass up. And besides, even the strangest stories often have some basis in fact…
What do you think? Do you believe such a trend could have existed in the 1790s? Have you read about this elsewhere? Would you have gone if you were allowed in? And by far the most important question…what would you want to wear?
Enter the contest to win a digital copy of
A Heartless Design, the debut novel in the Secrets of the Zodiac series–see below on how to enter. The winner will be announced Saturday morning.
Today’s post comes from my bookmarks rather than my library. And, although you can’t really tell from the title of the post, the book in question is a dance manual.
Among the goodies tucked into the Library of Congress’s online collection is The gentleman & lady’s companion; containing, the newest cotillions and country dances; to which is added, instances of ill manners, to be carefully avoided by youth of both sexes.. This little gem provides instruction (along with suggested music) for most of the dances being done in ballrooms in 1798 – and likely later. I’m sure you’ll find them useful.
However, the fun part of this treatise comes in the chapter titled “Inftances of ILL MANNERS, to be carefully avoided by youth of both fexes.” I thought it would be fun to consider some of the “inftances.”
Many of these seem pretty much like common sense. For example, “Entering a room with the hat on, and leaving it in the same manner.” This seems like common courtesy even today, particularly in the ballroom. However, “passing between the fire and persons sitting at it,” or “standing between the light and any person wanting it,” is fairly dated advice.
The book advises against contempt in looks, words, or actions, for a partner in dancing, or other persons which makes one wonder why you would request a dance with someone for whom you feel contempt. But perhaps this was more common in 1798. And for heaven’s sake, don’t distort your countenance and practice mimicry. I’m sure there’s no quicker way to lose a dance partner.
Rowlandson – The Miseries of Reading
By all means, do not “Lean on the shoulder, or chair of another person, and overlooking persons who are writing or reading.” Apparently Caroline Bingley had not read this section or she would not have been overlooking Darcy as he wrote to his sister. Class will out.
You are advised not to “loll on a chair when speaking or when spoken to, and look persons earnestly in the face without any apparent cause.” I can understand the prohibition against lolling. That’s so rarely courteous. But looking persons earnestly in the face? I’m not sure why that’s bad. Any ideas?
I get “laughing loudly, when in company, and drumming with feet or hands” and “swinging the arms, and all other awkward gestures, especially in the street, and in company.” Even today, I characterize such behavior as “ill-mannered.” On the other hand, “A constant smile or settled frown on the countenance” seems a tad stringent. Yes, a settled frown might be a little off-putting, but don’t you think a cheery face might be okay?
Nevertheless, both the author of The Gentleman and Lady’s Companion and I exhort you to especially eschew “All instances of that ill judged familiarity which breeds contempt.” And have a good day.