I wrote this post on New Year’s Eve 2025, with the idea I would need this information for the release of the 5th book in my Dragonblade mystery/romantic suspense series, which officially released 17 June 2026.
Yes, I know that sounds laborious. It is, but, as I am in my late 70s, and, therefore, I find I compose my ideas better on a piece of paper, with a black ink pen, and with lines going up and down the page to move paragraphs around, marking such as “sp” [check spelling, the word “conundrum” is never correct, and though I know the difference, when I am writing, “lie, lay” as well as “sit, set, sat” sometimes the difference gets past me in those first few rounds of composing]. I use “origin” to remind myself to check whether the word was used in the Regency era, etc. I compose better this way than I do on a computer. [Note: As a former school teacher, I mark my first round of edits with a red ink pen. Old habits never die, they just become more ingrained, and as I am close to having written 80 books in this manner, it seems foolish to change what is working.] Such is the way my brain is wired, and I am too “West Virginia stubborn” to convert.
Arriving 17 June 2026 from Dragonblade Publishing
Anyway, I was looking for the names of the villages in and around Rochester in Kent, for much of the actions of that last book takes place there. I was searching for actual names of villages, for I, generally, like to include real places for my readers like seeing that authencity, but the Google A/I search kept giving me everything but what I wanted.
This is what my search told me. Note, I only used A/I as a starting point, never for my actual writing. I knew how far from the cathedral the village must be to make the action of the tale work. Once I found a list, I researched each individually to learn which ones worked best for me. I wanted two villages in close proximity, about a mile or so apart. I planned to put one of my heroes in the series in the manor house on the estate close to the first of the villages and the heroine in the vicarage, visiting her aunt and uncle, in the other. There would be an estate supporting each vicar and village.
This is the A/I Summary: During the Regency Era (roughly 1811-1820), villages close to Rochester Cathedral, located in Kent, included nearby settlements like Chatham, Brompton, Borstall (Borstal), and Wouldham, as well as slightly further afield but well-known locales such as Aylesford, Gillingham, and those on the Hoo Peninsula like Cliffe and Grain, offering a mix of working communities and more rural Kentish life, often connected by river or early roads.
Immediately Nearby (Part of the Medway Towns)
Chatham & Brompton: These were integral parts of the Medway conurbation with Rochester, serving as naval dockyard areas and bustling settlements, featuring military presence and associated trades, with Brompton being a significant village adjacent to the cathedral.
Borstall (Borstal): A smaller village just to the south, known even then for its rural character and proximity.
A Short Distance Away (River Medway & Beyond)
Wouldham: A village south of the river, offering a more traditional rural setting.
Cuxton: West of Rochester, in the Medway Valley, a small village on the railway line (though the railway was just developing in the era).
Aylesford: A larger, historic village further along the Medway, known for its church and ancient history, offering a charming, established community feel.
Hoo Peninsula (North & East)
Cliffe: An historic village on the Hoo Peninsula, with views over the Thames marshes, known for its white-boarded houses.
Grain (Isle of Grain): A small community at the tip of the peninsula where the Medway meets the Thames.
Gillingham: Located to the east, growing as a significant settlement near the coast.
These villages provided varied living environments, from the busy naval atmosphere of Chatham to the quieter, agricultural lanes around Cuxton and Wouldham, all within easy reach of the cathedral and the burgeoning town of Rochester.
UNFORTUNATELY, none of these worked, so I took my dramatic license and created two villages, gave them names, etc. Though I prefer real places and names in my stories, sometimes, it is just not possible, and I was not going to move my hero and heroine further apart than a bit over a mile. My hero has an injured leg, something left over from childhood, so walking long distances would be difficult for him. Moreover, it would be harder for the H/h [hero/heroine] “accidentally” to bump into each other on a regular basis.
I belong to a Facebook Group called Regency Kisses: Lady Catherine’s Salon. Many of those found on the group are authors of Regencies novels (but not necessarily authors of Jane Austen Fan Fiction novels). These are often people who have studied and written in the Regency era exclusively. They are NOT those who learn everything about the Regency by watching a miniseries.
Recently, Nancy Mayer, who likely owns a full Regency library in her home, placed a post or two up, and I asked if I could share them here. These are Regency facts, NOT myths. Read on . . .
These are bits one might find in the novels, beloved by readers, that just were not a part of Regency life.
This first list is on marriages, engagements, etc., and the announcement thereof.
Though marriages were reported in the newspapers, engagements were NOT, that is unless one was Princess Charlotte. I repeat: Announcing an engagement in the newspapers is a popular plot point in romance novels (even used by Georgette Heyer in “The Grand Sophy”, but it was not something that happened in real life.
(Just to keep Jane Austen in the conversation, we find this quote from Chapter 53 as an example: “And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the Times and the Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”
A country weekly might mention a betrothal if it involved the local peer or his heir or his daughter, but it would be a part of the Society news.
Many newspapers had a small section where births, marriages, and deaths were reported, as well as a section for mentioning the balls and dinners the aristocrats were holding.
More information about local people would be reported in the country weeklies, but usually, it still was balls, dinners, and routs with small notices of births, deaths, and marriages.
The Hardwicke Act was only law in England and Wales. It was not the law in Scotland or Ireland or any of the English colonies.
This act was meant to make marriages more public and regular. Though people had always been encouraged to have the banns called, it now became a requirement that they do so unless the couple obtained a license from the local bishop or the Archbishop of Canterbury. By 1811, the cost of a special license was £5. It was mostly used by the aristocracy and men in the public eye. The standard license from a bishop required a bond for £100 to be forfeit if the couple lied about any allegation as well as a slight fee. This license named the parish in which the wedding would be held. (Not transferrable) This license entailed a wait of seven days. The couple still had to marry between the hours of eight and noon.
Catholic couples in Ireland could be married by a Catholic priest without the banns being called, though the church preferred that the banns be read. A Protestant marrying a Catholic had to be married by a Protestant clergyman. This remained the law for most of the 19th century.
By law the Roman Catholics were supposed to be married first by an Anglican priest before marrying by Catholic rites, but in practice many married in Catholic rites first. [Note: I used this as a plot device in my REALM series, A Touch of Honor (Book 7)]. However, the marriage was not valid until and unless they married according to the law, by a clergyman of the Church of England. For an aristocrat, that could mean his children would be considered illegitimate if he is not married in an Anglican ceremony. [Aha! Now that is where my plot device comes in!]
As the majority of the marriages were by banns, everyone in the parish would hear the banns read for three Sundays. Even if one rarely attended church, word would spread that a couple was planning to marry.
Those who married by regular license had to marry in the parish church between the hours of eight in the morning and noon. Usually, friends, family, and neighbors knew about the upcoming wedding.
Some plots used by novelists were contrary to the laws.
For example, all marriages had to be registered in the parish register even if the couple married in a private house by special license.
Usually, the couple signed the register with their witnesses before leaving the church.
Marriage contracts were no longer enforced. It was an offense against church law for a clergyman to marry anyone who was not a willing participant in the ceremony. [This will be part of my upcoming The Marchioness’s Madness. I am still writing this one, but I am nearly finished.]
Do not believe a story that says a marriage of convenience could be annulled in a year if it was not consummated. Along the same line is the idea that a couple could have a marriage for a year, and if no child was born, they could go their separate ways and marry others. That was not even possible in Scotland, which still permitted a divorce under specific circumstances.
A couple in England would not be married just because they told someone they were. In England, specific things had to occur before a marriage was legal. A couple in Scotland who meant it and had sexual intercourse after saying so, would, however, be married.
Captains of ships were not authorized to perform weddings. No captain of a ship could marry people.
There were no provisions in the law for proxy marriages anywhere in the British Isles. If a marriage by proxy took place in a country or countries where they were permitted, then such a marriage would be valid in England. None of the cases which came before the courts involved men or women who had been born and baptized in England. [Again, I used this as a plot point in my novel, Amending the Shades of Pemberley. How did I manage to marry Elizabeth (in England) and Darcy (in India)? One must read the book to learn how I managed that one.
Any marriage of a minor who married by license without the permission of the father or guardian was not valid.
Annulments were only granted for a few specific reasons such as insanity, bigamy, incest, not being of age, and impotence. The marriages of minors who married by license without permission were never valid, but the couple often could have the court annul it, so they would have a record of the action. If any children had been born, the children were illegitimate. One hopes none of them also married by license thinking they had the proper permission.
Consummation was NOT a requirement for a valid marriage in England, though the Scots did consider it so. The inability to consummate a marriage due to impotence or a physical malformation was cause for an annulment. The court usually wanted the couple claiming impotence to be married for some time to see if the condition reversed itself.
A couple could be married in Scotland by saying they were so and having sexual intercourse, but not in England. Marriage in England needed a license or banns and an ordained clergyman of the Church of England unless the couple marrying were Jewish or Quakers.
Marriages in England had to be conducted by an ordained clergyman of the Church of England unless the bride and groom were both Jews or Quakers.
Okay, hold onto your hats for this one: There was no “You may kiss the bride” line in the church ceremony! The couple sometimes kissed when they signed the register which was part of the ceremony, though the register was in a different room. The marriage ceremony was as written in the Book of Common Prayer. No double ring ceremonies, no special words, and no KISS THE BRIDE. Some bishops did complain about couples kissing at the end of the ceremony, so I think it had to have happened sometime, but it was not a part of the service.
Gretna Green was one of the nearest Scottish towns where marriages could be conducted, and, therefore, it was quite popular. However, do not forget how long it would take for the hero and heroine to travel from London to Scotland by coach, at say 7-10 miles per hour, not counting all the stops for tolls, etc. Gretna was one of the nearest, and made quite a business of it. BUT IT WAS NOT THE ONLY PLACE TO MARRY IN SCOTLAND. I have used numerous Scottish towns/villages along the border for several of my plot points. Also, remember, since it took several days to travel that far, the girl would be “ruined,” but if the couple could be caught in time, the matter could be hushed up.
Dissolving a marriage
“A marriage could be dissolved by death, annulment, or divorce.
“Annulments were not easy. One couldn’t just decide to marry and get an annulment in a year for either the marriage was valid or it wasn’t. If it wasn’t valid the couple were never married, and if the marriage is valid they can’t get it annulled.
“Marriages were null and void if minors married by license without the proper permission, if either of the couple had a living spouse, or if either was considered too young to marry. Shocking to our sensibilities, the age which was considered too young was before age seven. Children could be married off between the ages of seven and twelve, if female, and seven to fourteen, if male. However, when the female reached the age of twelve or the male reached the age of fourteen, the child could repudiate the marriage or decide to stay with it.
“Fortunately, by the late eighteenth century, public opinion shifted so that most people disapproved of marrying children off at such tender ages. By the beginning of the nineteenth century, the attitude had shifted to allowing girls to wait until they were seventeen or older before declaring them of an age to marry. Despite tales of girls being considered on the shelf if not married by age nineteen, quite a few Regency young ladies didn’t marry until they were twenty or even older.
“Marriages were also void if one of the couple did not have a proper understanding of what he or she was doing. The church insisted on willing and informed consent, or at least as much informed consent as might be expected of a twelve year old girl.
“Marriages could be annulled if one of the couple, usually the male, was impotent.
“Marriages did not have to be consummated in England to be valid. The ability to consummate had to be present.”
For more information on marriage or the Regency, in general, check out Nancy Regency Researcher.
This was so much fun, I think I will continue with a few more of these types of posts. Let me know what you think.
If you are looking for a resource to aid in either your writing or your reading, I might suggest Writing Regency England: A Resource for Authors by Jayne Davis and Gail Eastwood.
From pitfalls to perfection – your essential Regency writing companion
Are you writing stories set in Regency England? Do you want your characters and settings to feel authentic? Then this is the book to help you escape common pitfalls and breathe authenticity into your writing.
Writing Regency England is the only guidebook tailored specifically to help you to avoid the most commonly seen errors in Regency fiction. All historical authors face the challenge of not having lived during the time they are describing, and also share the problem of “you don’t know what you don’t know.” No one gets everything right! But non-British authors writing about England also have the disadvantage of not being steeped in the language, geography, culture and history of the country from living there. While some readers don’t care about accuracy as long as a story is good, others do and if you get too many things wrong, they may leave bad reviews and put you on their ‘authors to avoid’ list.
British author Jayne Davis and American author Gail Eastwood combine their perspectives and meticulous research to offer invaluable insights into language, setting, and society. This indispensable guide illuminates common pitfalls but also can spark creative ideas rooted in the authentic details of Regency life and offers a great starting point for further research.
The book covers:
Part 1: Language
The value of historical flavor and period-appropriate language, and research tips; tables listing American or anachronistic words to avoid in many categories; aspects of character voices including class and speech, grammar, word choice, and variations by location; a look at period given names (including minority groups) with ways to create authentic variety, creating or finding appropriate surnames, and valuable advice on title names.
Part 2: Setting
Flora and fauna found (and not found) in the UK, with tips on using them in your story, including animals, insects, birds, wild plants and garden plants; landscapes of Britain including general topography, varied inland and coastal landscapes, and how weather factors in and affects these; the “built” landscape including building styles and materials, transport, and historical structures; advice on naming places and features, plus a chapter on travel covering both land and sea journeys, examining the factors affecting these, plus maps, guidebooks, and how long journeys took.
Part 3: Society
Easily a book unto itself, this sections covers: money and incomes, different branches of the military, the peerage, courtesy titles, forms of address, precedence and privileges of rank; inheritance and entails, guardianship, plus inheritance of titles; a thorough examination of marriage in multiple aspects, as well as ending marriages; a few selected social activities (letters, the postal system and dancing), and finally, hunting, shooting, and weapons (including military).
Charles Carroll was a 38 years old merchant and plantation owner when he signed the Declaration of Independence. The father of 7 children, Carroll lived longer than any of his fellow signers. He passed in November 1832 at the age of 95, meaning he also lived through the War of 1812. John Adams, William Ellery, and George Clymer also lived into their 90s. Francis Lewis and Matthew Thornton made it to age 89. Such facts always fascinate me when I think of how small pox and other diseases nearly wiped out the American army, especially in those early days of the war.
Charles Carroll was born on September 19, 1737, into a prominent Roman Catholic family in Annapolis, Maryland. Charles Carroll of Annapolis, the father of Charles Carroll of Carrollton, was born in 1703, and died in 1783. He was a wealthy landowner and bitterly opposed the political disabilities under which the Catholics of Maryland suffered. The mother of Charles Carroll of Carrollton was Elizabeth Brooke, the daughter of Clement Brooke and Jane Sewall, and was a near relation of her husband.
As the only child, Charles was not only heir to the largest fortune in colonial Maryland but to the ancestral legacy and traditions of defending family and faith passed on by the Carroll generations. Young Charles Carroll, known as “Charley” to his parents, was sent in 1747, at the age of ten, to Maryland’s eastern shore, along with his cousin John Carroll, to study secretly at the Jesuit school at Bohemia Manor in Cecil County. By 1749, Charley and John, who would later become the first American Catholic Bishop, were sent to study at St. Omers in French Flanders. [Jesuits’ College at St. Omar, France; seminary in Rheims; Graduate, College of Louis the Grande; Bourges; studies in Paris; Studies, apprenticeship in London. (Scholar, Lawyer)] Charles was instructed in classical studies in Paris and by 1760 was studying English law at the Inner Temple in London. Though his mother died before his return, a refined and well-educated Charles arrived home after 16 years abroad.
In 1765, at the age of 28, he returned to Maryland, a highly refined gentleman with all of the education and experience that might be expected of an emissary of the finest courts in Europe, to take the reins of the family estate, which was one of the largest in the American colonies. On his return to Maryland in 1765, Charles Carroll was given a 10,000 acre land tract called Carrollton, located in Frederick County. He also added “of Carrollton” to his name (he appears as “Charles Carroll of Carrollton” in certain sources) to distinguish himself from his father and cousins, all of whom had similar names. In 1768, he married his cousin, Mary “Molly” Darnall, and began major improvements to his family urban home and gardens in Annapolis. They had seven children, only three of whom lived to adulthood. Charles, their only son, would later live at Homewood, now located on the Baltimore campus of Johns Hopkins University.
Charles Carroll is said to have identified with the radical cause at once, and he proceeded to work in the circles of American patriots. In 1772 he anonymously engaged the secretary of the colony of Maryland in a series of Newspaper articles protesting the right of the British government to tax the colonies without representation. Because he was a Catholic, Carroll was not allowed to participate in politics, practice law (despite years of study) or vote, but he became known in important circles in a roundabout way by writing various anti-tax/tariff tracts (essentially, early protestations against “taxation without representation”) in the Maryland Gazette under the pseudonym “First Citizen.” He publicly debated “Antilon,” the powerful provincial official and jurist, Daniel Dulaney, on freedom of conscience and the rights of the elected assembly versus the powers of appointed government. Carroll gained public acclaim for embracing the principle that the people are the true foundation of government and emerged as the citizens’ “patriot.”
In 1774, Carroll was elected with six others by the citizens of Anne Arundel County and of Annapolis, with full power to represent them in the provincial convention. Catholics had been disfranchised and declared ineligible to a seat in the Assembly, but by this ac the prejudice against them was swept away. Carroll was an early advocate for armed resistance with the object of separation from Great Britain. However, his native colony was less certain in this matter and did not even send a representative to the first Continental Congress. He served on the first Committee of Safety, at Annapolis, in 1775, and also in the Provincial Congress. He visited the Continental Congress in 1776, and was enlisted in a diplomatic mission to Canada, along with Franklin and Chase. Shortly after his return, the Maryland Convention decided to join in support for the Revolution. Carroll was elected to represent Maryland on the 4th of July, and though he was too late to vote for the Declaration, he did sign it.
At the time he signed the Declaration, it was against the law for a Catholic to hold public office or to vote. Although Maryland was founded by and for Catholics in 1634, in 1649 and, later, in 1689 after the Glorious Revolution placed severe restrictions on Catholics in England, the laws were changed in Maryland, and Catholicism was repressed. Catholics could no longer hold office, exercise the franchise, educate their children in their faith, or worship in public.
He served in the Continental Congress, on the Board of War, through much of the War of Independence, and simultaneously participated in the framing of a constitution for Maryland. In 1778 he returned to Maryland to participate in the formation of the state government. He was elected to the Maryland Senate in 1781, and to the first Federal Congress in 1788. He returned again to the State Senate in 1790 and served there for 10 years. He retired from that post in 1800. In 1789, he became one of Maryland’s first two U.S. Senators. Carroll continued to improve and enlarge his Annapolis home and gardens along with Doughoregan Manor (Carroll family country seat in Howard County).
By 1800, Carroll had retired from politics to concentrate on his business affairs. Considered the largest slaveholder at the time of the Revolution, and owning nearly 400-500 blacks, he became president of the American Colonization Society (1828-1831) seeking to solve America’s slave problem by resettling them in Africa. Carroll became one of the founders of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Company and invested in the Bank of Maryland, the Bank of Baltimore and the First and Second Bank of the United States. He held many shares in canal, turnpike, bridge and water companies in the Washington-Baltimore regional area. He purchased $40,000 of state-backed securities to build the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, serving on its first board of directors.
Charles Carroll leased his Annapolis house in 1821 and moved to his daughter (Mary Caton) and son-in-law’s home on Lombard Street in Baltimore (now known as the Carroll Mansion of the Baltimore City Life Museums). By 1822, the first sanctioned Catholic Church in Annapolis, St. Mary’s, was erected and built on the Carroll property. In 1826, Charles Carroll of Carrollton became the last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence with the deaths of Thomas Jefferson and John Adams on July 4th. Two years later at the age of 91, Carroll laid the cornerstone for the B&O Railroad. He died at age 95 on November 14, 1832, at the Caton home. Following a national day of mourning, he was interred at the family country seat, Doughoregan Manor.
One of the best parts of being an historical writer is learning new things. However, one of the worst parts of being an historical writer is researching those new things. As I am sure everyone on this site may attest, I have spent hours and hours and hours searching for a fact that turns out to be less than one paragraph in my novel, but if I do not make an effort for accuracy, some astute reader will surely call me out on it. Sometimes, in the past, I must even educate my editor on Regency facts. For example, when I wrote, “…a figure wrapped in a long black cape and sporting a beaver,” my editor changed it to “a long black cape with a beaver lining.” I had to explain to the young lady that a “beaver” was a man’s top hat in the Regency period. So, for this blog, I thought I might introduce our visitors to some of the tidbits of information, one now finds floating about in my head and intricately manipulated into my books.
To Henry Hunt, Esq., as chairman of the meeting assembled in St. Peter’s Field, Manchester, sixteenth day of August, 1819, and to the female Reformers of Manchester and the adjacent towns who were exposed to and suffered from the wanton and fiendish attack made on them by that brutal armed force, the Manchester and Cheshire Yeomanry Cavalry, this plate is dedicated by their fellow labourer, Richard Carlile:[Wikipedia] a coloured engraving that depicts the Peterloo Massacre (military suppression of a demonstration in Manchester, England by cavalry charge on August 16, 1819 with loss of life) in Manchester, England. All the poles from which banners are flying have Phrygian caps or liberty caps on top. Not all the details strictly accord with contemporary descriptions; the banner the woman is holding should read: Female Reformers of Roynton — “Let us die like men and not be sold like slaves”.
The Peterloo Massacre: In 1819, a group of leading radicals formed the Manchester Patriotic Union Society. The group sought parliamentary reform. On 16 August 1819, they planned a public gathering of reformers, including Henry Hunt and Richard Carlile, to meet at St. Peter’s Field in Manchester. Unfortunately, the local magistrates feared a riot, so they ordered reinforcements in the form of four squadrons of cavalry of the 15th Hussars (600 men), several hundred infantrymen, the Cheshire Yeomanry Cavalry (400 men), a detachment of the Royal Horse Artillery and two six-pounder guns, the Manchester and Salford Yeomanry (120 men), and all Manchester’s special constables (400 men). Estimation of the crowd’s size varied, but some believe as many as 50,000 people were at St. Peter’s Field by noon. Afraid, the local magistrates sent the 400 special constables to form two continuous lines between the hustings of the speaker’s stage and a house on Mound Street where the nine magistrates took cover. At 1:20 P.M., various members of news organizations escorted the afternoon’s speakers to the stage. William Hulton, chairman of the group of magistrates, ordered Joseph Nadin, Deputy Constable of Manchester, to arrest Henry Hunt and the other demonstration leaders. Nadin realized he could not control the crowd with just the constables, so he asked for help from the military. Many members of the Manchester Yeomanry group were reported to be drunk when they entered the field. Needless to say, the crowd took offense with the military’s presence and with the attempt to arrest Hunt and the other leaders. When the onlookers closed the pathway to the stage, the yeomanry used their sabers to cut their way through the crowd. Additional military units were dispersed, and by 2 P.M., the crowd had been driven from the site. Eighteen people were killed and another 500, including 100 women and children, were wounded. James Wroe of the Manchester Observer dubbed the incident Peterloo because many former soldiers said it reminded them of Waterloo’s destruction (http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/PRpeterloo.htm).
The Peterloo Massacre is a pivotal scene in novel His Irish Eve. The story depicts the life of Adam Lawrence, a character who first appeared in The Phantom of Pemberley and continued to appear in both my Austen books and my Regency tales. Finally, Adam required his story. In His Irish Eve, he must fight his way across the melee in the park to save the woman he loves. The heroine’s name is “Aoife,” or “Eve” in Irish. Get it. Adam and Eve. Sorry, I had to go there.
Saturation Bombing and Chemical Warfare: I know this idea sounds too modern, but Sir Thomas, Lord Cochrane, the 10th Earl of Dundonald, proposed a revolutionary idea to the Prince Regent (George IV) in March 1812. Cochrane, who earned 75,000 pounds sterling in prize money as a member of the British Navy and who had been dubbed “le loup des mers” (the sea wolf) by Napoleon, detailed two innovative weapons. The first was referred to as “temporary mortar” or an “explosion ship.” The second was called “the sulphur ship” or “stink ship.” For the temporary mortar, Cochrane suggested a hulk, with the decks removed and a reinforced inner shell. In the bottom of the ship, a layer of clay was placed. Into this layer, scrap metal and obsolete ordnance would be embedded. The “charge” in the form of a layer of power came next, followed by laid rows of shells and animal carcasses. The explosion ship would be towed into the vicinity of anchored enemy ships and detonated. The “mortar” would spread out over a wide area and smother the enemy in a deadly torrent.
The “stink ship” was an attack on land fortifications. Again, using a hulk, one where the upper deck remained in place, Cochrane suggested that the British cover that deck with a layer of charcoal. That would be followed by sulphur (equaling 1/5 the volume of the fuel). The hulk would be floated up against a shore battery or fortification and then the winds did the job. Clouds of “noxious effluvia” were carried inward. Cochrane also used a mixture with coke and coal tar involved. The British government saw this as a possibility, but Prinny’s advisors worried that the French might retaliate in a similar fashion. Therefore, the proposal was rejected. Cochrane’s plan was revisited many times, most specifically during the Crimean War. Eventually, the plans were sealed away on the shelves for confidential materials at Whitehall. In 1908, Lord Palmerston’s correspondence opened the secret vaults. A decade later, (http://esoterictexts07.tripod.com/Brit.NapChemWar.xx.htm) “sulphuric yellow clouds of mustard gas ravaged thousands in the trenches of France.” In Captain Wentworth’s Persuasion, Frederick Wentworth stumbles across a plan being purported by Cochrane’s followers and must set his own strategy in action to thwart the schemes.
Thoroughbreds: When Arabian horses were sent as gifts to European heads of state, a different type of horse became the standard in Great Britain. The Godolphin Arabian was imported into England in 1730. Before that time, the Brits were introduced to the Byerley Turk (1683) and the Darley Arabian (1703). It is believed that the Thoroughbred’s ancestry traces back for more than 400 years to these three stallions. These Arabian stallions were bred to the stronger, but less swift, native English mares: The result was the thoroughbred. A thoroughbred horse could carry weight with sustained speed over extended distances. The British Stud Book, begun by James Weatherby in 1791, traced 350 mares to these three horses: Eclipse (a descendant of the Darley Arabian); Matchem (a grandson of the Godolphin Arabian); or Herod (a great grandson of the Byerly Turk). In both His American Heartsong and A Touch of Cashémere, the main characters show an interest in raising thoroughbreds. Arabella Tilney even rides in a race in place of Lawrence Lowery in His American Heartsong. I also had Charles Bingley breeding and racing thoroughbreds inElizabeth Bennet’s Gallant Suitor.
Baobhan Sith: These creatures are sometimes referred to as “The White Women of the Scottish Highlands.” They are a type of female vampires, similar to the Irish banshee. A baobhan sith is a beautiful woman in a green dress. She uses her seductive powers to capture her victims. Legend has it that the baobhan sith approached a group of travelers. The men built a fire and began to openly wish for female company. Four lovely baobhan sith appeared and enticed and danced with the men until dawn. Then the creatures attacked. One of the men hid between two horses, and the iron in the horses’ shoes protected him from the creatures. If a man refuses the seductive power of the baobhan sith, she must serve him for ten years. This legend is the basis of the vampire curse on the Darcy family inVampire Darcy’s Desire. A Baobhan Sith enticed Lord Thomas (Arawan Benning), but Lady Ellender D’Arcy gives the seductress Seorais Winchcombe in Thomas’s place. Seorais Winchcombe is Scottish for George Wickham.
Skunks: There are no skunks in England. They are exclusively “New World” animals. In the “Old World,” we find relatives of the skunk: weasels, such as the ermine mink and the zorilla. Much to my chagrin, I made this discovery as I was writing a “most delicious” scene in which Arabella, an American, is sprayed by a skunk. However, that scene went into File 13, better known as my trash can. In Regency times, skunks were not a possibility for a novel entitledHis American Heartsong.
Cernunnos: Cernunnos is a Celtic god associated with horned male animals and is often portrayed with a stag. He has with him a serpent with the horns of a ram. He is usually portrayed as a man with long hair and a beard; He wears a torc about his neck to denote nobility. Some believe it is upon Cernunnos that we base our image of Satan, a man with horns. Those of you who have readVampire Darcy’s Desirewill now note the torc and the snakes and the emblem in Wickham’s house, as well as Elizabeth’s dream of the stag with Darcy’s eyes.
“Lord Thomas and Fair Ellender”: This traditional Scottish folk song was also known as “The Brown Girl,” “Fair Eleanor,” or “Fair Ellinor.” There are nine different versions, with three alternating melodies, document by Francis Child.
Lord Thomas was a bold forester And the lodge-keeper of the king’s deer Fair Ellender was a lady gay Lord Thomas, he loved her dear.
Lord Thomas spoke a word in jest And Ellender took it ill “Oh, I will never marry me a wife Against my family’s will.”
“If you will never wed thee a wife A wife will never wed thee!” So he rode home to tell his mother And knelt upon his knee.
“Mother, come mother, come riddle to me, Come riddle it all in one And tell me whether to marry Fair Ellen Or bring the Brown Girl home.”
The Brown Girl she has house and land Fair Ellender she has none And there I charge you with the blessing To bring the Brown Girl home.”
He dressed himself all in his best His merry men all in white And every town that he passed through They took him to be some knight.
“What news have you brought, Lord Thomas? What news have you brought unto me?” “I’ve come to ask you to my wedding, A sorrowful wedding to be.”
She turned around and dressed in white Her sisters dressed in green And every town that they rode through They took her to be some queen.
Thomas took her by her lily-white hand When leading her through the hall Saying fifty gay ladies are here today But here is the flower of all.
“Is this your bride, Lord Thomas?” she said. “She looks most wonderful brown You might have had a fair a woman As ever trod England’s ground.”
“Despise her not, fair Ellender, he said. “Despise her not to me Much better do I like your little finger Than I do her whole body.”
The Brown Girl she was standing by With knife ground keen and sharp Betwixt the long ribs and the short She pierced Fair Ellender’s heart.
“Oh, what’s the matter?” Lord Thomas said. “You look so pale and wan You used to have so fair a color As ever the sun shone on.”
“Oh, are you blind, Thomas?” said she. “Or can’t you very well see? And can’t you see my own heart’s blood, As it trickles down to my knee?”
Lord Thomas he was standing by, With knife ground keen and sharp, Between the long ribs and the short, He pierced his own bride’s heart.
He head the grip against the wall, The point against his breast, “There is the going of three true lovers, God send our souls to rest.”
“Oh, father, oh, father, go dig my grave, Go dig it wide and deep, And place fair Ellender in my arms And the Brown Girl at my feet.”
This is the folksong upon which I based the Darcy curse in Vampire Darcy’s Desire. The Brown Girl was a girl with dark hair, as opposed to the blonde Ellender.
Italy: Recently, in my novel Lyon’s Obsession from Dragonblade Publishing, I had Lady Theodora Duncan flirting with an Italian count to make Lord Alexander Marksman jealous. Luckily, I realized before we went to print (for even my DB editor did not catch the mistake), I recalled Italy officially became a unified country, the Kingdom of Italy, on 17 March 1861, through a process of unification known as the Risorgimento. During the Regency, that area of Europe was ruled by Napoleon. One would think a woman who had married two different Italians would know better, wouldn’t you?
Like all other writers, I spend hours trying to verify facts to make my story lines sing of the truth, and maybe along the way, I introduce a reader to something of which he was unaware. Did you learn anything new today? Comment below.
When I was younger, though my hair was blonde, I would upon occasion use a mixture of Ivory Flakes™ (powdered detergent), peroxide, and bleach. Yes, as in Clorox™. If bleach was good enough for Jean Harlow, it was good enough for the generations that followed her. The bleach was hard on the hair, but the Ivory Flakes made it feel quite silky.
As to the Regency, the following may prove more useful than my teen years.
From the Fashionable Magazine‘s October 1787 edition:
There are many simple contrivances to make red, or other “ill-coloured hair”, more pleasing to the sight, by changing it to a black or dark brown, without a possibility of injuring the person even when applied to the eye-brows. Among these may be recommended the roots of the caper-tree or holm-oak; the barks of the walnut-tree, the willow, and pomegranate’ the leaves of the myrtle, the wild vine, the raspberry-bush, the mulberry-tree, the fig-tree, and the artichoke; the green shells of walnuts or beans; and poppy flowers, ivy berries, or red beet seeds.
Either of these articles may be boiled for this purpose in wine, vinegar, or rain-water, with the addition of a little marjoram, sage, betony, balm, or any other cephalic herb; and being strained off, the liquor may be used at pleasure. The usual way is to rub the hair well with the liquid on going to bed. Alum, and most preparations of lead, boiled and applied in like manner, will produce the same effect.
If, after washing the head with spring water, the hair is every day combed in the sun with a comb dipped in oil of tartar, the hair will become quite black in a week’s time. The hair may be moistened with oil of Benjamin, to give it a fine scent.
Here is another. This one is a Recipe for Flaxen Dye For The Hair
Boil a pint and a half of ley prepared from vine-twig ashes; a quarter of an ounce each of turmerick, celandine roots, and briony; one drachm and a half each of lily roots, saffron, and flowers of mullein, yellow stechas, St. John’s wort, and broom. After straining off the clear fluid, use it frequently to wash the hair, which will in a short time change to a beautiful flaxen colour, which may be easily made more or less light at pleasure, by a very little attention to the several ingredients, and such other circumstances as cannot easily escape notice.
The other method of changing the color of hair, and one that was at one time more popular than dyeing as it did far less damage to the hair was using hair powders. These could be brown, grey, orange, pink, red, blue, or violet. Please note, though, that the application of white powder over dark hair produces shades of light to dark grey, not the paper white seen in films and costume wigs. White powder applied over very light hair produces a heightened blond effect. Powder was applied with a bellows (the person was covered with a cone-shape face mask and a fabric smock). They then carried a puff for touchups and a knife for removal.
Note though that the use of hair powder died out very quickly from the 1780s.
There was a dye made from black walnuts that was said to last a while. Though Black Walnuts are native to North America, they have been grown in southern England since the 18th century. This dye stained the hands so one would need someone else to apply it. Black walnut powder is still used today in some hair colorings. However, before you run out and collect the walnuts in your back yard, please know that the black powder also has risks and side effects. There were other hair dyes that were more toxic. Anything that stained the hands like beets and berries could be used with limited success.
There are many web pages about the history of hair coloring, but not all list the materials used to achieve this. There are You Tube videos about using crushed Black Walnut shells.
It was not until the Middle Ages in Europe that hair dyeing began shifting into a predominantly female habit.
Bleaches, often made with blended flowers, saffron and calf kidneys, were particularly in vogue, although Roman Catholics associated blond hair with lasciviousness.
Red dyes, often a mix of saffron and sulfur powder – the latter of which could induce nosebleeds and headaches, was popularized during the 16th-century reign of Elizabeth I of England.
One could also use Ink to have black hair–though an author had her heroine end up with blue hair after a naughty boy threw ink at her.
It depends on how long the disguise was to last.
For a man who could do it, black walnut was probably good. Of course, even in the Regency, some older men were still wearing powdered wigs or powdered hair. Judges were required to wear wigs. Fake hair and wigs were also available for use by men. It might be easier for him to have a wig of a different color. Outside he would always be wearing something on his head.
Due to the association with ruling classes in European monarchies, the wearing of wigs as a symbol of social status was largely abandoned in the newly created republics, the United States and France, by the start of the 19th century, though formal court dress of European monarchies still required a powdered wig or long powdered hair tied in a queue until the accession of Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821) to the throne as emperor in 1804.
Women’s wigs developed in a somewhat different way. They were worn from the 18th century onwards, although at first only surreptitiously. Full wigs in the 19th and early 20th century were not fashionable. They were often worn by old ladies who had lost their hair.
During the late nineteenth and early twentieth century hairdressers in England and France did a brisk business supplying postiches, or pre-made small wiglets, curls, and false buns to be incorporated into the hairstyle. The use of postiches did not diminish even as women’s hair grew shorter in the decade between 1910 and 1920, but they seem to have gone out of fashion during the 1920s. In the 1960s a new type of synthetic wig was developed using a modacrylic fiber which made wigs more affordable. Reid-Meredith was a pioneer in the sales of these types of wigs.
Rachel Knowles’ Regency History blog has an excellent article on hair powder if one is interested in learning more.
The Lady’s Stratagem: The Lady’s Stratagem: A Repository of 1820s Directions for the Toilet, Mantua-Making, Stay-Making, Millinery & Etiquette, quotes from Duties of a Lady’s Maid (1825, 1829) and the Manuel des dames (1827, 1829, 1833) advises against dyeing hair, noting that commercial preparations, available at perfumers, contain metallic oxides. The Manuel des dames makes a similar point: “You must take care, however, not to burn yourself with it, as it will eat through your skin like a piece of red-hot iron.” The book goes on to offer recipes for making one’s own hair dye, such as using gall nuts, but others include lead ore and steel filings. I can’t vouch for the efficacy of any of the recipes (or receipts), but none are long-lasting.
from Amazon: The Lady’s Stratagem is a comprehensive, step-by-step, illustrated guide to early 19th-century dressmaking, corset making, millinery, knitting, embroidery, clothing care, beauty treatments, and manners. The audiences include film and theatre costumers, historic re-enactors, and historical and romance novelists.
Austen’s novels speak loudly with society’s obsession with money and connections. Money and status was obtained through marriage. What we soon come to accept as a reader of Jane Austen’s novels is that her heroines marry for love (and a bit money). It is not ironic that Austen’s heroines marry within their class. It was expected that a woman do so. Harriet Smith in Emma is criticized for she aspires to wed into the landed gentry. The hero gentlemen in Austen’s books have money, which they generally earn by being a the owner of an estate and collecting rents, as in Fitzwilliam Darcy’s case in Pride and Prejudice or Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility, or from a living bestowed upon the man by a land owner, as in the case of Edward Ferrars in Sense and Sensibility or Henry Tilney, in Northanger Abbey, who is comfortably placed as a .beneficed clergyman on his father’s estate.
When we learn of Sir Walter Elliot’s nod of acceptance to Captain Wentworth in Persuasion or of Darcy’s acceptance of the Gardiners’s and Mr. Bingley’s connections to trade, we “praise” the men. These actions are examples of Jane Austen’s values. The fact they more rightly fit the values of the current century is pure happenstance.
Austen’s feelings as applied to silly girls such as Lydia Bennet and Harriet Smith are obvious. She also disapproves of snobs and women who pursue rich men, as in the case of Caroline Bingley in Pride and Prejudice, Lucy Steele in Sense and Sensibility, Elizabeth Elliot in Persuasion, Mrs. Elton in Emma, and Maria Bertram in Mansfield Park. Rakes are often found upon Austen’s page. Mr. George Wickham in Pride and Prejudice woos half of Meryton with his lies. He has no intention of marrying Lydia Bennet until his hand is forced by Mr. Darcy. Mr. Willoughby in Sense and Sensibility is equally as vile. Frank Churchill plays Emma against Jane Fairfax. Tom Bertram in Mansfield Park has both his good points and his bad ones. He starts off the novel as Mary Crawford’s love interest, and he’s instrumental in getting the “Mansfield theatricals” off the ground. Tom is also responsible for a lot of the major plot points that dominate the start of the novel. His gambling debts are part of the reason why Sir Thomas has to go to Antigua to take care of his financial problems. Tom’s debts also mean that Edmund won’t be able to move into the Parsonage at Mansfield Park when he’s ordained, which of course results in the Grants and the Crawfords moving in. And Tom introduces Mr. Yates, Julia’s future husband, to the Bertrams. Mr. Elliot in Persuasion not only attempts to seduce Anne, but we discover he has much to do with the poor conditions in which Mrs. Smith must live.
Austen’s pages are also full of the ridiculous: Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet, and Sir William Lucas in Pride and Prejudice; Lady Bertram in Mansfield Park; Mary Musgrove and Mrs. Musgrove in Persuasion; Mr. and Mrs. Allen in Northanger Abbey; and Mrs. Jennings in Sense and Sensibility.
Austen’s heroines are intelligent females, as was she. Her family permitted Austen much latitude. She discussed politics and religion and society’s issues with her brothers and her father. One can easily imagine Austen arguing with her brothers over important issues in the same manner as her heroines do with the heroes of her books. The difference in Austen and her heroines is that she never married. Many take these “liberties” that she presents her characters as being a “women’s liberation” sort of thing. I beg to differ on that opinion. Although Austen may have hoped for more freedoms for women, she is accepting of what many thought could not be changed. She is no Mary Wollstonecraft writing A Vindication of the Rights of Women.
Austen was writing fiction based on what she knew of society. In John Wiltshire’s essay (found in The Cambridge Companion to Jane Austen, edited by Edward Copeland and Juliet McMaster, Cambridge University, 14 February 2011), Wiltshire suggests that Emma and Knightley are the most compatible couple in Austen’s works, for the pair are comparable in intelligence, wit, empathy, and confidence. Darcy and Elizabeth trail in Wiltshire’s estimation, especially because of a lack of confidence in their relationship found in both Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.
Carter Braxton was a plantation owner from Virginia. He married twice and fathered 18 children, as out title of this article indicates. That meant he was placing the lives of his many children in the hands of his fellow Virginians. Such must have been a scary proposition. He was 39 years old when he signed the Declaration of Independence. He died at the age of 61 in October 1797.
Carter Braxton was born on September 10, 1736, at Newington Plantation in Livingston, Virginia. He was the son of George Braxton, Jr., and of Mary Carter, who died just seven days after giving birth. Carter’s father died when he was in his teens, and he was raised by family friends.
Carter Braxton was a descendant of some of the most distinguished families in Virginia in terms of wealth and influence. His grandfather, George Braxton, Sr., immigrated to Virginia from London about 1690 and lived in an estate called Mantua on the Mattaponi River. The Braxton family in England was of ancient origin and resided in Lancaster County. George Braxton married Elizabeth Paulin and in his will of 1725 left a tract of 578 acres to his daughter. Elizabeth Paulin’s father, Thomas Paulin, was a justice of Old Rappahannock in 1688 and was one of the county officers in King and Queen County.
Carter Braxton’s father, George Braxton, Jr., received large land grants from King George II. He was a frequent member of the House of Burgesses from 1718 to 1734.
Carter Braxton’s mother, Mary Carter, was the daughter of Robert “King” Carter. Robert was called “King” because of his great wealth and prominence. He owned 42 plantations.He was born at his father’s estate, Corotoman. He served in the House of Burgesses, where he was Speaker.. He served as Treasurer of the Colony, member and President of the King’s Council, and as Acting Governor for one year. His estate consisted of 300,000 acres of land and 1,000 slaves. Robert Carter built Christ Church in Lancaster County and served as vestryman of the church.
“King” Carter’s father ( Carter Braxton’s great- grandfather) was Colonel John Carter of England. John Carter was the son of William Carter of Casstown, Hereford County, England and was born in 1620. The Colonel came to the Virginia colony in 1649 and built the ancestral home of Corotoman in Lancaster County. He served in the House of Burgesses, was an influential member of the King’s Council, and was a commander against the Rappahannock Indians in 1654. His descendants included three Signers of the Declaration of Independence: Carter Braxton, Benjamin Harrison and Thomas Nelson.
Carter Braxton was educated at the College of William and Mary, and later became a member of its board of visitors. Shortly after graduating, his father died, leaving him the family estate of Newington.
In 1753, Braxton came into possession of the impressive manor house and plantation of Elsing Green. He sold Elsing Green in the early 1760’s but lived there only briefly.
In 1755, Braxton married the wealthy, beautiful and amiable Judith Robinson, the daughter of Christopher and Judith Robinson of Hewick, Middlesex County, Virginia. Judith died shortly after the birth of their second child in 1757 (only a little over two years after their marriage) leaving Braxton devastated with grief (and wealthier because of the marriage settlements he received from Judith’s parents).
Following the death of his first wife, Braxton moved to England in 1757, where he remained for three years. During this time he became familiar with the feelings and designs of the English government. His rank and fortune provided him access to the nobility from whom he obtained much valuable information: for example, Great Britain would support the exchequer by extracting money from the hardy pioneers of America in the form of new taxes. In 1760 Carter Braxton returned from Europe and was elected to the House of Burgesses where he became an active and prominent member. He was quite vocal regarding British ideals. He was to continue in the House until 1775.
In 1761 he married Elizabeth Corbin, the daughter of Colonel Richard Corbin and Elizabeth Tayloe.
Elizabeth’s father, Colonel Corbin, was educated in England, and later served in the House of Burgesses, as President of the King’s Council, and receiver general of the colony for nearly 20 years. Elizabeth’s grandfather was Gawin Corbin who came to the Virginia colony in 1650. She was the great- granddaughter of the Honorable Henry Corbin of Hall End, Warwick County, England, who was born in 1594. His wife was a descendant of Sir Gilbert Grosvenor, who came to England with William the Conqueror in 1066.
Braxton settled into colonial life and his estates (Elsing Green and later Chericoke). He had two children with his first wife Judith and another sixteen with his second wife Elizabeth.
In the 1760s Braxton considered investing in the slave trade, exchanging letters with the Brown brothers (John and Moses) in Providence, but the Browns proceeded on their own. The Brown family founded the Ivy League school, Brown University.
From a letter, we know that Braxton wrote to the Browns, “The Gold Coast slaves are esteemed the most valuable and sell best. The prices of Negroes keep up amazingly. They have sold from £30 to £35 sterling a head clear of duty all this summer. I should not doubt of rendering such a sale if the Negroes were well and came easily.”
In the growing dispute with Great Britain, Carter Braxton was loyal to Virginia, but held the more conservative views of the Tidewater leaders. He was present in the House of Burgesses (which was a group sanctioned by the King and the royal governor of Williamsburg) when Patrick Henry’s resolutions condemned the Stamp Act. Patrick Henry purported the idea that only the Burgesses could tax Virginians. Braxton supported the rights of Virginians (but not necessarily a break from Great Britain).
In 1769, along with Washington, Jefferson, Patrick Henry, Peyton Randolph, and others he signed the Virginia Resolves, which declared that the House of Burgesses had the sole right to tax the inhabitants of the colony. Braxton also signed the Virginia Association, a non-importation agreement.
The day after the first hostilities at Lexington and Concord in 1775, Braxton became a member of the Virginia Colonial Convention. He then played a key role in the confrontation with Royal Governor Lord Dunmore.
Lord Dunmore confiscated the gunpowder stored in the Williamsburg magazine and placed it on a British warship. Militia units were eager to retaliate, but they were calmed by Peyton Randolph and George Washington. Patrick Henry, however, refused to be pacified, and led a militia unit into Williamsburg to demand the return of the gunpowder. Before hostilities broke out, Carter Braxton, speaking for Patrick Henry, convinced his father-in-law, Richard Corbin, who was receiver general of the Colony, to pay for the gunpowder, thus averting an open conflict. Braxton was successful in diffusing the conflict because he was both Corbin’s son-in-law, as well as a member of America’s “landed aristocracy” and a man who still held Britain in great reverence. He was on cordial terms with the Radical elements in the House of Burgesses.
When Peyton Randolph died suddenly in October, 1775, Carter Braxton was chosen to replace him in the Continental Congress. He was hesitant at first to support the growing sentiment for independence, and argued strongly against it. In April 1776, he wrote, “Independence is in truth an elusive bait which men inconsiderably catch at, without knowing the hook to which it is affixed.” Some believe Braxton was chosen to represent Virginia because he would stand against the Radical views of John and Samuel Adams. Braxton believed without a powerful navy that the colonies could not think of independence.
Braxton pointed out that one republic after another had come to an unhappy ending. The Netherlands, he claimed, became “as unhappy and despotick as the one of which we complain,” and Venice “is now governed by one of the worst of despotisms.” He concluded that “the principle contended for is ideal, and a mere creature of a warm imagination.” The advantages of republics “existed only in theory and were never confirmed by the experience, even of those who recommend them.”
During the debate following Richard Henry Lee’s resolution for independence on June 7, Braxton continued to argue against separation. But by early July he had changed his mind, voting for independence on July 2, the Declaration on July 4, and signing the Declaration on August 2. Braxton, however, was not reappointed to the Continental Congress, when he opposed a more democratic form of government desired by the delegates in the Virginia convention.
Braxton invested a great deal of his wealth in the American Revolution. He loaned money to the cause and funded shipping and privateering. Unfortunately, the British destroyed many of his ships, and ravaged several of his plantations and land holdings. He accumulated a great deal of debt and was forced to leave his estate at Chericoke in 1786 and move to a smaller residence in Richmond.
A large granite monument in the Hollywood Cemetery at Richmond, Virginia, honors many of Braxton’s descendants and ancestors, including George Braxton, Sr., the immigrant. In Washington, D.C., near the Washington Monument, there is a small park dedicated to the fifty-six Signers of of the Declaration. Alongside his fellow Virginians, Carter Braxton’s signature is engraved in gold. Carter Braxton died in Richmond in 1797 and is buried in an unmarked grave at Chericoke.
New York City saw the celebration of the first Labor Day on 5 September 1882. The celebration marking the event was designed by the Central Labor Union.
According to the Department of Labor, “While most sources, even the Department of Labor, credit Peter McGuire with the origination of Labor Day, recent evidence suggests that the true father of Labor Day may in fact be another famous union leader of the 19th Century, Matthew Maguire.
“According to legend, Peter McGuire stood before the New York Central Labor Union on May 12, 1882, to suggest the idea of setting aside one day a year to honor labor. McGuire believed that Labor Day should “be celebrated by a street parade which would publicly show the strength and esprit de corps of the trade and labor organizations.”
“Peter McGuire was a young, though well-respected, union leader. A child of immigrants, he quit school at an early age to go to work. In 1881, he founded the United Brotherhood of Carpenters, which would become the largest trade union of the time. Later, McGuire would join with his friend, Samuel Gompers, to found the American Federation of Labor (AFL). Through the AFL and the Carpenters, McGuire led the great strikes of 1886 and 1890, which would eventually result in the adoption of the eight-hour workday on the nation’s agenda.
“Recently, however, evidence uncovered at the New Jersey Historical Society in Newark reveals that another respected union figure of the day, Matthew Maguire, may quite possibly be the man behind the creation of Labor Day.
“In the 1870s, Matthew Maguire led several strikes, most of which were intended to force the plight of manufacturing workers and their long hours into the public consciousness. By 1882, Maguire had become the secretary of and a leading figure in the Central Labor Union of New York.
“According to the New Jersey Historical Society, after President Cleveland signed into law the creation of a national Labor Day, The Paterson (N.J.) Morning Call published an opinion piece entitled, ‘Honor to Whom Honor is Due,’ which stated that ‘the souvenir pen should go to Alderman Matthew Maguire of this city, who is the undisputed author of Labor Day as a holiday.’ This editorial also referred to Maguire as the ‘Father of the Labor Day holiday.’
“So why has Matthew Maguire been overlooked as the ‘Father of Labor Day’? According to The First Labor Day Parade, by Ted Watts, Maguire held some political beliefs that were considered fairly radical for the day and also for Samuel Gompers and his American Federation of Labor. Allegedly, Gompers did not want Labor Day to become associated with the sort of “radical” politics of Matthew Maguire, so in a 1897 interview, Gompers’ close friend Peter J. McGuire was assigned the credit for the origination of Labor Day.”
So, what happened on that first Labor Day? In reality, a bit of mayhem occurred.
Spectators for the event had arrived early to claim a spot to view the parade that was to pass near City Hall in Manhattan, along Broadway. A newspaper account of the day described “…men on horseback, men wearing regalia, men with society aprons, and men with flags, musical instruments, badges, and all the other paraphernalia of a procession.”
Worrying over what COULD occur, police were out in full force on horseback and on foot. They were in place to “control the crowd” by 9 A.M.
William McCabe served as the Grand Marshall for the parade, but when time came for them to step off, there were only a few marchers in place, and none of them had brought an instrument or music to play. Some even suggested that McCabe abandon his post, but he refused. Fortunately, Matthew Maguire of New York’s Central Labor Union hustled over to McCabe to inform the man that 200 marchers from Newark, New Jersey’s Jewelers Union were crossing over to Manhattan on the ferry, and thankfully, they had brought a band with them.
Although McCabe and his aides and the police escort were a bit late stepping off, shortly after 10 A.M. the jewelers and their band turned onto lower Broadway. They played a tune from a popular Gilbert and Sullivan opera: “When I First Put This Uniform On.” The song seemed quite appropriate for the occasion. As the jewelers smartly marched past, McCabe and his aides followed. The police escort formed a line supposedly to keep the spectators back, but soon spectators were slipping through the police line and joining the marchers. Before long, there were 700 men in line in the first of three divisions of Labor Day marchers. Final reports of the total number of marchers ranged from 10,000 to 20,000 men and women.
The New York Tribune reported that, “The windows and roofs and even the lamp posts and awning frames were occupied by persons anxious to get a good view of the first parade in New York of workingmen of all trades united in one organization.”
The crowd arrived at Reservoir Park at noon. Here the parade was to end, but not necessarily the celebration, which was moved to Elm Park at 92nd Street and Ninth Avenue. The post-parade celebration included speeches, a picnic, and beer kegs galore. Nearly 25,000 union members and their families celebrated some eight hours, until around 9 P.M.
The second Labor Day was celebrated on 5 September 1883, but beginning in 1884, the first Monday in September became the official holiday. “The Central Labor Union urged similar organizations in other cities to follow the example of New York and celebrate a “workingmen’s holiday” on that date. The idea spread with the growth of labor organizations, and in 1885 Labor Day was celebrated in many industrial centers of the country.” (United States Department of Labor)
Many schools in the U.S. have already returned to the new school year. My son and DIL are both teachers and are already counting the days to the end. My oldest grandchild enters high school this year. His younger sisters are in grades 7 and 5 respectively. They are all in the AIG programs, which means my grandson took his freshmen English and math classes already.
Some students, however, are in summer school to take advantage of course credits to free up what was required in the school’s course of studies (When he was in high school, my son took the required “speech” class during the summer to make room for other courses. You will note in the next paragraph that I taught speech, but not at his high school.) Meanwhile, some students attend summer classes to repeat a course failed during the regular school year.
As a former teacher (40 years in the public classrooms of three different states and carrying multiple degrees in not only English, speech, journalism, and theatre, but also advanced degrees as a reading specialist), I often write stories with children and more often than not, I write about a young person with some sort of learning disability. That is what I studied. It was very sobering to enter state mental institutions where children were kept bed ridden because of their disabilities. My first year teaching was with many such students.
In my contemporary story, Second Chances: The Courtship Wars, the heroine has a Down Syndrome sister. The character in the story is based on my best friend’s, since elementary school, younger sister. The things that happen to the girl in the story did not necessary happen to our Vickie, but she was the inspiration for that character, and there is a large dose of Vickie’s spontaneity in the book’s character.
I wrote of another Down’s child in one of my Regency tales. The young man was the heir to the earldom, but the hero of A Touch of Cashémere, Book 3 of the Realm Series was the the young man’s guardian and brother and served him until he passed.
In one of my more recent Austen books, The Colonel’s Ungovernable Governess, our dear Colonel Fitzwilliam is uncle (and later guardian) for his brother’s step-child. Lord Vincent Jennings is what we might call a high-functioning child on the spectrum these days. I know someone will call me out for that description, but I do not mean it in a derogatory manner. There is much fluidity in both the terms and the understanding of what constitutes someone on the spectrum. There are several children in my family and those of my acquaintances who display some of the multiple “diagnoses” for those children. If the terms had been around in my days, I might have been considered “somewhere on the spectrum” myself, as I was in a college lab school at three and was taking college classes at barely fifteen. However, I grew up in the Sputnik generation, where the government wanted us to “beat the Russians” in every manner. No one thought twice about my successes or any of those from my fellow classmates. It was expected of us.
Now, while my generation often “dropped” music and art classes for more advanced mathematics and science classes and, generally, spent between 180 – 185 days in the classroom, children in the Georgian era did not spend so much time in school. Schooling was not compulsory, even for the aristocracy. The young men at university, spent as much time socializing as they did in the classroom. So, what was it like for a child in the Georgian era? For one thing, Oxford placed an emphasis on literature, while Cambridge leaned more to mathematics. Yet, let us explore some generalities.
The above is an example of the school terms found in one of author Suzi Love’s books, but I wished to share it as a marker of when the children during Jane Austen’s England would have returned to school, and what each term meant, for in my latest Austen-inspired tale, The Colonel’s Ungovernable Governess, much of the action in compacted between the Easter Term and the Michael Term and there are three children, two of them young boys whose schooling plays a part of in the plot line. My British readers will wonder why I bother to attempt “to get it right”, while I hope my American readers will be able to make more sense of such details in the tale.
Before we get into specifics of each boarding school and the terms, let us first revisit some givens as to the education of both males and females, though my story has a young boy who is the colonel’s nephew and the heroine has a brother, both 10 years of age. So most of what I am sharing is dealing with the male education.
At around the age of five, children no longer had a “nurse,” but rather came under the care of a “governess.” There was no rule of thumb as to whether a governess addressed only the education of the young girls, so I chose to have the governess in my story tend the boy and his sister, for they are twins. Such a person was sometimes referred to as the “nursery governess.” Generally though, the word “governess” is for girls and “tutor” is for boys.
Boys, especially as I have written my young lad as an earl, would require lessons in reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography, etc. Girls would receive much the same, but would also learn as Carolin Bingley reminds us in Pride and Prejudice . . .
“A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”
Later education included languages, such as French, Greek, and Latin, geography, science, astronomy, philosophy, business, literature, and traveling abroad, as well as social graces such as dancing, music, etc. Some boys, before they left for school, studied in the home of a learned man. Jane Austen’s father supplemented his income by educating boys in his home. Ironically, though the schools catered to the landed gentry and the aristocracy, the curriculum did not include land management and bookkeeping. Sons of the men of trade learned those skills. (A bit circular in the thinking, right?)
We must recall, in the Regency, a boarding school was called a “public school,” meaning the boys received their education outside of their homes. The public schools were Eton, Harrow, Westminster, Charterhouse, Shrewsbury, Winchester, and Rugby. Between ten and twelve seemed to be the age boys went out to school.
Okay, we have an overview of the curriculum, though with both the colonel’s and Mr. Darcy’s help, in my story, my young Lord Vincent learns many other necessary skills which will serve him as the earl when he is able to sit in the House of Lords. Now, let us look at the school terms:
The School Terms, as you can see in the example at the top have specific names. These names are, as are the court sessions, associated with the church calendar.
MichaelmasTerm (a word we are all familiar with because Mr. Bingley let Netherfield before Michaelmas, which is one of the four quarter days, meaning “taxes” to be paid). The Michaelmas session runs for eight weeks after the Feast of St Michael, which falls on 29 September. Generally, the Michaelmas term begins the first few days of October, depending on whether it is a weekend or not.
Hilary Term is the second of the school terms at Oxford and Dublin universities, not at Cambridge. It runs from January to March and is named “Hilary” after St Hilary of Poitiers, who is celebrated on 13 January and the date, generally, falls within this academic term. The term lasts 10 weeks after the feast of St Hilary.
TrinityTerm varies some because of the”movement” of Easter. Many schools, universities and law courts had Easter terms. The fact that Easter was a moveable feast meant that one could not always tie the terms to the calendar nor have them be the same length every year. All schools were closed for Holy week preceding Easter and then most did not reopen until the Wednesday after Easter as Monday and Tuesday would be considered part of the holidays.
Many other dates for court, banks, etc., were calculated as being “so many days” after Easter, meaning they would change yearly.
Additionally, the periods when the schools and law courts were not in session were called vacations, not holidays, despite contemporary English usage.
Nancy Regency Researcher describes it this way: 15 Sundays to 21 Sundays after the feast of St Hilary (6 Sundays) with Trinity Sunday as the first Sunday after Pentecost or Whitsunday (as it is called in the UK. Pentecost is celebrated seven weeks (50 days) after Easter Sunday, since its name. Pentecost falls on the tenth day after Ascension Thursday.
Eton had terms called “Halves.” These were the existing parameters:
September to two weeks before Christmas
Christmas holidays: a fortnight before and after Christmas
January to Palm Sunday.
Easter holidays were a fortnight from Palm Sunday.
Week after Easter to end of July The Summer holiday from the end of July for five weeks.
* Senior boys returned later.
Meanwhile, Cambridge did not have a Term called “Trinity.” Their Easter Term was longer.
As the Darcys lived in Derbyshire, and I have placed members of the Fitzwilliam family in Derbyshire (Earl of Matlock) and the eldest Fitzwilliam son (at William’s Wood in Lincolnshire), and the young earl’s estate in North Yorkshire, we may assume all within my story attended or would attend Cambridge. We know Darcy and Wickham and the colonel all attended Cambridge, from Chapter 35 of Pride and Prejudice.
“Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge—most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman’s education. “ . . .
“For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and, still more, as one of the executors of my father’s will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. “
Let us look at some of a sample school term for the year 1804, during the Georgian era as an example of what to expect. (Note: Part of this was shared on Nancy Regency Researcher, but I added specific dates from the 1804 calendar and school term.
1804 (taken from A Pocket Companion for Oxford)
10 October 1803 to 17 December 1803 – Michaelmas Term
14 January 1804 to 24 March 1804 (ends on Saturday before Palm Sunday) – Hilary Term
11 April 1804 (the Wednesday after Low Sunday, which is the Sunday after Easter) to 17 May 1804, which is the Thursday before Whitsunday (the Pentecost) – Easter Term
30 May 1804 (the Wednesday after Trinity Sunday, which is the Sunday after Whitsunday) to the Saturday after Act Sunday. In 1804, 1 July was the first Sunday of the month. Therefore, the term would end on 7 July 1804.
Bear with me on this explanation of Act Sunday. I am taking this from the footnotes of a lecture on Newman Reader via The National Institute of Newman Studies – copyright 2007 – based on the works of John Henry Newman.
Footnote #2 [Act Sunday. “The candidate,” says Huber on the English Universities, “emancipated from his teacher, makes himself known to the other teachers by taking part in the disputations in the schools. These services afterwards become formal public acts, disputationes, responsiones, lecturæ cursoriæ. A more especially solemn Act formed the actual close of the whole course of study. The licence was then conferred on him by the Chancellor. A custom arose that all the final and solemn exercises should fall in the second term of the year (hence called the Act Term), and be closed on the last Saturday in term by a solemn general Act, the Vesperiæ, by keeping which the candidates of all degrees in their different Faculties were considered qualified and entitled to begin the exercises connected with their new degree upon the following Monday. This fresh beginning (inceptio) took place with the greatest solemnity, and formed the point of richest brilliancy in the scholastic year. In Oxford it was called emphatically ‘the Act,’ in Cambridge ‘the Commencement.'” {Abridged from F. W. Newman’s translation.) The Act Sunday is or was the Sunday next before the Act, which falls in the first week of July.]
This year is the 192nd anniversary of when six Dorset farm labourers were sent to an Australian penal colony, but their ‘crimes’ helped change the face of employment rights for generations to come – and it all began in the small village of Tolpuddle.
Tolpuddle is a village near Dorchester in Dorset. During the years leading up to the arrest of the six offenders, a great wave of trade union activity took place and a lodge of the Friendly Society of Agricultural Labourers was established. Entry into the union involved payment of a shilling (5p) and swearing before a picture of a skeleton never to tell anyone the union’s secrets. The average wage for a farm labourer at the time was 10 shillings per week, but the Tolpuddle men had seen their wages dropped to 7 shillings (with threats of future cuts). The fact that the men sword an oath made their actions illegal. Therefore, the men were arrested. Their employers feared possible unrest, for the British populations had not forgotten the French uprisings.
On 24 February 1834, George Loveless and five fellow workers – his brother James, James Hammett, James Brine, Thomas Standfield and Thomas’s son John – were charged with having taken an illegal oath. But their real crime in the eyes of the establishment was to have formed a trade union to protest about their meagre pay. The jury was made up of 12 farmers, the exact same type of men the labourers had been accused of offending.
Lord Melbourne, the British Prime Minister at this time, openly opposed the Trade Union Movement, so when six English farm labourers were sentenced in March 1834 to 7 years transportation to a penal colony in Australia for trade union activities, Lord Melbourne did not dispute the sentence. The Whig government had become alarmed at the working class discontent in the country at this time. The government and the landowners, led by James Frampton, were determined to squash the union and to control increasing outbreaks of dissent.
According to the BBC Home, “They were tried before an all-male 12 jury. The jury men were farmers, and the employers of the labourers under trial. The farmers themselves rented their land from the gentry – but it was the gentry who had opposed the idea of the labourers uniting. The men on trial stuck to their view. Their leader was George Loveless, and in addressing the judge and jury, he wrote: ‘My lord, if we had violated any law it was not done intentionally. We were uniting together to save ourselves, our wives and families from starvation.’ Even so, after a two day trial, Judge Baron Williams found them guilty: ‘The safety of the country was at stake,’ he said. They were sentenced to seven years in a penal colony in Australia, where they would have been sold on as slaves. It was the maximum sentence they could have had. They had been made an example of.”
The offenders were to be transported to a penal colony in Australia. After the trial many public protest meetings were held and there was uproar throughout the country at this sentence, so the prisoners were hastily transported to Australia without delay. The working class rose up in response to this sentencing A massive demonstration of 30,000 marched down Whitehall through London in support of the labourers, and an 800,000-strong petition was delivered to Parliament protesting about their sentence.
After three years, during which the trade union movement sustained the Martyrs’ families by collecting voluntary donations, the government relented and the men returned home with free pardons and as heroes.
After three years, during which the trade union movement sustained the Martyrs’ families by collecting voluntary donations, the government relented and the men returned home with free pardons and as heroes.
When finally home and free, some of the ‘martyrs’ settled on farms in England and four emigrated to Canada.