Posting a Letter in the Regency

It was too soon for Mary to send Sally a letter, too much to ask her to pay for so little news.

I wrote this today in my current work in progress. But was I right? I thought I had it right, but really, what do I know about sending a letter in Regency England.

After hitting the my own files and some of the sites, I discovered more than I ever wanted to know. Here are a few things I thought you might find of interest.

First of all, I was right about the receiver of the letter having to pay the cost of mailing.  In this case from St Ives in Cornwall to somewhere near Old Sarum in Wiltshire.

All letters went via London. So in this case, the letter would pass Old Sarum, then be sent back there.  Letters were charged according to distance and  and the number of sheets of paper:

Within Great Britain:-
Not exceeding 15 miles	4d
Above 15 but not more than 20 miles	5d
Above 20 but not more than 30 miles	6d
Above 30 but not more than 50 miles	7d
Above 50 but not more than 80 miles	8d
Above 80 but not more than 120 miles	9d
Above 120 but not more than 170 miles	10d
Above 170 but not more than 230 miles	11d
Above 230 but not more than 300 miles	12d
Above 300 but not more than 400 miles	13d
Above 400 but not more than 500 miles	14d
Above 500 but not more than 600 miles	15d
Above 600 but not more than 700 miles	16d
Above 700 miles	17d

 For example, a typical single page letter from Dublin to London would cost 1s 3d - a lot of money in those days, when you consider that a Dairy maid 6 pence per day, less than half this amount. Can you imagine sending a letter at the cost of a whole days pay?  Two sheets of paper doubled the cost, three tripled it. And paper was not a cheap commodity either.

This high cost is partly because you paid twice. Once to get the letter to London, and again to get it to its destination. And sometimes cities added their own charges for delivery also, usually a penny.   And this is why, out of respect, the sender would keep their information to a single page and only write if needed. To save paper they would "cross their lines"  turn the paper at right angles and write in that direction as shown in the picture. In most places one had to go the the post office to collect one's mail rather than it being delivered to the door. Which is apparently something we are returning to these days.

By the way, there were no envelopes in the Regency. The sheet of paper would contain the address on the outside, and be sealed with wax or a wafer.  Additional sheets would be folded inside.

Not all mail had to be paid for. Letters from, Members of Parliament, Commons and Lords as well as newspapers travelled for free. It was intended for official business, but as we so often read in books, Peers etc were often asked to frank  (sign and stamp the letter as official) letters for friends and relatives to save the high cost of postage . This example dates from 1930.  The postal system was overhauled not long after this and the franking of letters was abolished in 1840.

If you want to dig deeper than I do at present, I would recommend starting with http://postalheritage.org.uk

No doubt there will be a new question on my mind requiring information in the not too distant future and until then, Happy Rambles

Royal Weddings, family weddings and more

It came as quite a surprise when I discovered that the story I did for the Royal Wedding last April, is now coming out with the other stories as a print anthology in the UK.  It's a bit like getting the wedding cake out of the freezer on the first anniversary, I suppose. 

For those of you in North America, I know you will be hugely disappointed to learn that this print version is only available in the UK.  Sigh. Oh but wait! You can order it from The Book Depository, no shipping charged for delivery.  Yay!

What do you think of the new cover, as against the generic one for the e-book? Just a bit tasty don't you think?

So back before Christmas I said I would publicly track my progress on this cross-stitch project as a way of motivating me to get it done!  This is the photo I took at the end of January. Now if you look very very carefully, and compare to the last picture (as if you would) you will see that the outside border is finished, beads and all. And I have rolled it upwards a fraction to start on the embellishment to the fountain scene. 

I have been working away during February on that scene and will post another picture at the end of the month.  And just to brag a wee bit, I also made the dress. I love the smocking part, but have to force myself to construct the garment. This one with its lack of sleeves went together very well.


I just returned from a delightful family wedding in Trinidad, hence the lack of posts, accompanied by a bit of fun in the sun on the Island of Tobago.  While the weather was a bit on the damp side, it was lovely to meet up with old friends and catch up on all the family gossip.

In true Royal Wedding tradition, I wore my fascinator.  Felt like a Princess for a day.

There you have it, what I have been up to since you saw me last. Next we return to our regular programming.  Until then, Happy Rambles.

Interview with a Rake

Here is where you pay for the research by letting me post about my book Lady Rosabella`s Ruse. Of course, you can quite easily skip the whole thing, so I don`t feel the slightest bit guilty.

None of the women at an "anything goes" house party catches Garth Evernden's jaded eye. The only one worth noting is a covered-up lady's companion with an intriguing hint of exotic beauty the eighth Baron Stanford would like to uncover…

Miss Lethbridge:   Here we are readers, at this elegant country house not far from the Kent coast where a group of rather risque ladies and gentlemen have gathered for a week or two of "fun".  At the moment, I am lying in wait for Lord Stanford, Garth Evernden, a well-known man about town.  (Smiles sweetly at the tall dark gentlemen trying to avoid her.)  Good morning Baron Stanford, isn`t it rather early for you to be up and about?

Lord Stanford:  (Impatient sigh.) Excuse me. I am rather busy at the moment. Looking for someone.

Miss Lethbridge:  (Sneaky smile. Oh goody, we are going to get some dirt. My editor will be pleased.) Really? And who would that be?

Lord Stanford:  (dark eyebrow raised) Not the sort of thing I am in the habit of revealing, madame.

Miss Lethbridge:  I thought you hated this sort of contrived  "naughtiness" where people pretend to be wicked, Garth? May I call you Garth?

Garth: (a rather bored expression crosses his face) If you wish. If I am going to be honest, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for a certain young lady. He looks around. She is the wife of a good friend of mine.

Miss Lethbridge:   Isn't that rather disloyal?  (I realize I am frowning at him and try to merely look interested. I realize by the flash of anger in his eyes I am not doing a very good job.)  Er... so that is who you are looking for this morning?

Garth:  That is who I was looking for when I arrived here yesterday.  (His smile becomes rather wolfish and I take a step back) I don't think she was all that happy to see me.

Miss Lethbridge: That pleases you?

Garth:  It's a place to start. At least I have her attention.

Miss Lethbridge:  But if you are not looking for her this morning, who are you looking for?

Garth:  Our hostess's companion, Rose. I caught her sneaking into the house last night. There is something going on with that young lady.

Miss Lethbridge: And that intrigues you, does it?


Garth:  Look, despite that she is a funny old stick, I like Lady Keswick . If this companion of hers, Rose, is up to no good, I think she ought to be warned.  And if she is up for night time assignations, then...well...  Yes, I'm intrigued. Under those widows weeds is a flower that is both  exotic and secretive. What is she hiding? .

Miss Lethbridge: So now you are in pursuit of two women?

Garth:  (wicked grin).  You didn't actually think I was going to give the plot away, did you? 

 I was hoping.   He brushes past me and heads for the breakfast room, where uninvited reporters are not permitted. Blast.  Perhaps I will get more information out of Mrs Rose Travenor. Perhaps I should hide in the garden and wait for her to appear.  And if I learn anything, anything at all, you Dear Reader, will be the first to know. Tune in again next time.  Until then, Happy Rambles


You, dear reader, can purchase Lady Rosabella's Ruse at all your favourite stores, either in person or on line.  Here are a few links for various on line places from various places around the world if you would find them helpful. While you are it it you might want to look out for The Royal Weddings Anthology out in Print this month.





Find "Lady Rosabella's Ruse" At Barnes and Noble


Find "Lady Rosabella's Ruse" at Chapters in Canada

"Lady Rosabella's Ruse" at Mills and Boon    

"Lady Rosabella's Ruse at Foyles" UK

Find "Lady Rosabella's Ruse" at Blackwell Books

Find "Lady Rosabella's Ruse" At Pickabook, UK




Find "Lady Rosabella's Ruse" on Amazon.com



Lady Rosabella's Ruse at Amazon.co.uk

Searching for Regency England

All right, so I love castles.  Don't forget that the castles scattering Great Britain today scattered them equally during the Regency. Our lords and ladies saw them then, just as we see them today. Well, perhaps not quite, because work to make them accessible has happened more recently. But they were there.

We found Wardour Castle an English Heritage site in Wilshire quite by chance when we were driving out to one of the great houses. Of course we could not resist taking a peek.

The castle was destroyed during the English civil war and although the Arundells managed to come through it all in the end, in the mid 1700's they built a new castle (really a palladian manor house) and the castle was left to grace the estate as a kind of folly.

The old castle is unique in Britain, having been built as a six sided structure in  the late 14th century, mimicking those the owner, Lord Lovell had seen in France.  So you can see the actual shape of it, I am including an artists impression of how it looked when it was built.

You will not doubt notice the little clump of daisies beneath the sign.

So my interest is in the castle as a ruin, since that is how it would have been for our Regency ladies and gentlemen visiting this part of the country, and who knows, perhaps they stayed with Lord Arundell.  But if you like castles or earlier periods of history, no doubt you will also enjoy looking at the ruins.

Next time we will take a look around the castle and its grounds and a sneak peek at the New Cast5le.

Until next time, Happy Rambles

Regency Fashion

January 1812. We are still in the first year of the Regency and here is what the ladies were wearing in January.

Lady’s Monthly Museum
Cabinet of Fashion

A plain muslin dress, made high to fit the bosom with a plaited ruff; the front of the dress confined with coral clasps; earrings and necklace to correspond. Hungarian mantle, with double capes, trimmed with white swansdown, and fixed at the throat with cord and tassels. A small eastern turban, the same colour as the mantle, with white feathers; buff gloves and shoes.


I really like the modesty of this first gown. It has an elegance about it that appeals to me. And the ruff is very Elizabethan/Tudor. Note the hairstyle. She is sporting one, which always appeals to me, the long tress or curl coming over one shoulder.

The second figure is:

A riding dress of fine Georgian cloth, of a green colour, ornamented with frogs militarie in front and finished at the pocket holes with the same. Hat of green velvet, trimmed with white fur. Buff boots and gloves.

Pocket holes, an interesting way to describe them. I always like the idea of military styled riding dresses for ladies, but this view shows the train to perfection. This would ensure the lady's legs are well covered once she is sideways on the horse. I don't know what Georgian cloth is, do you?

So here we see what the ladies were wearing as we approach the end of the first year of the Regency.

Until next time, Happy Rambles

What did Happen During the Regency?

Continuing  snippets of the news two hundred years ago to celebrate and 200th anniversary of the beginning of the Regency era.

1811

• May 22: - several peoplewere  killed by a house falling at Seven Dials.  

• This was in one of the poorest and most notorious regions of London in the Parish of St Giles where one also found the worst of the rookeries.  A dangerous place for any Regency buck or miss to wander at any time of the day, but even worse for those that lived there. 
• Near to Covent Garden, it was called Seven Dials because of the way the streets and alleys come together in one intersection which originally had a sundial in the centre. The first plan in 1690  was for six  streets, but the developer Thomas Neale who planned this to be a smart end of town with large fronted shops, added a seventh in the final plans in order to increase his income from rents.  It never achieved its potential. After his death, the houses were subdivided and quickly became slums, renowned for  gin shops. At times, the area threatened to descend into the undesirable depravity of the St Giles "Rookery" to the north, but it was predominantly a working neighbourhood, with woodcarvers, straw-hat manufacturers, pork butchers, watch repairers, booksellers, pubs and breweries.
• At one point each of the seven apexes facing the Monument housed a pub, their cellars and vaults connected in the basement providing handy escape routes should the need arise.These days it is very different. It has boutique style shops and a new sense of community. Over 25% of its buildings are "listed" (protected) and many date back to the 1690's. Clearly not the one that fell on these poor people.

• June14: -The proceedings of the House of Commons state the number of French prisoners in England to be near 50,000.
• Aug. 21: - A comet made its appearance above the horizon. The Great Comet of 1811.  It is estimated that this comet comes around once every three thousand plus years, so I won't be around to see it the next time. The drawing is by William Henry Smyth in 1811.
• Sep.11: - Discovery made at the Queen's house that her majesty's court dress had been stolen. Really, how bad is that?
• November unrest: -- Bands of men appear wearing masks and armed with muskets, pistols and hatchets and break into the small hosiery workshops scattered thoughout country villages. Hammermen carrying hung heavy iron sledgehammers smashed open the doors of the workshops and beat at the wide stocking frames until they are destroyed. E.g. Nov 4 6 frames broken at the village of Bulwell on November 4, a dozen at Kimberley a few nights later. November 13 70 frames smashed in a single attack at Sutton-in-Ashfield. Claimed allegiance to “General Ludd”. Magistrates cannot police the rural jurisdictions. A military force, a squadron of dragoons, the Mansfield Volunteers, two troops of Yeomanry were ineffective.

That is it for now, I hope you enjoyed this peek of life in the first year of the Regency. Until next time Happy Rambles.

What No Pirates?

Apparently there are, since they stole my blog post before it was done. Apologies for the double post.
Behind the Book

Let me start by saying, I've always had a soft spot for pirates. I know lots of people don't and that's fine. But I loved Treasure Island as a child. Definitely had a soft spot for Long John Silver, such a great villain. And what's not to love about Johnny Depp. Oh there were others before him too, including a moving with Gina Davis that I really liked.
 HMS Kent battles a French Privateer c. 1800 (from Wikipedia)

Anyway, you can imagine my disappointment when research revealed that by the Regency, the Golden Age of pirating was done.  I mean there were pirates, in the China sea and off North Africa, but they weren't quite right dashing around off the coast of Britain and popping up in the English countryside. But I wanted to write a pirate story, I whined.

But there were privateers.

Privateers were men who owned and or captained ships and fought for their country, but not in uniform. Needless to say it was a profitable if dangerous occupation, since they got to keep their prize as long as it was deemed legitimate under their Leter of Marque. Privateering had gone on since at least the 16th century, inded it had been greatly encouraged before their were navies as we know them today, and was  still legal up until around 1856.

So how did privateering work? Governments would issue A Letter of  Marque to a ship owner. They were given permission to capture ships of the enemy, usually within a certain area, if they had reason to suspect the ship was aiding the enemy's war effort, such as carrying arms or soldiers, or supplies. Which pretty well seems to cover all possibilities.

They were a bit like sea going mercenaries I supposed and were originally called Private Men of War (shortened to privateer). They had to be careful, because governments could revoke the licence just as quickly as it was handed out, or make unexpected peace with the enemy, which left the privateer left footed if they didn't know.  If they operated without their license, they were considered pirates. Quite often an enemy would consider them a pirate, even if they did have their government's license.

If a privateer was caught by the enemies navy, the seamen were usually given the option of join the opposing navy as a sailor or be treated as a prisoner of war. A rather horrid fate.

Privateers did a great deal of damage to the opposing side and many of them came home rich.  Their pay was based on the prize system.

What sounds like a pirate, acts like a pirate, but isn't a pirate?  Why, a Regency Privateer. So I got to write my pirate story after all. and Captured for the Captain's Pleasure is it. This book is set right at the end of the war of 1812-1814 and my hero has actually been working under an American licence.

One of these day I might get to write one about a real pirate. It just won't be a Regency story.

Until Next Time, Happy Rambles

Happy New Year

I had planned to write long before this, but after New Year I came down with a horrible cold that seized my brain. But I am back now and raring to go.

Captured for the Captain's Pleasure is in stores now and to celebrate I am going to give you a little excerpt that you won't find elsewhere.  Enjoy with my compliments.

“Drink your wine, Miss Fulton.” He gestured at her glass. “Come a toast.”
To humour him, she picked up her glass.
“To success,” he said.
“Yours or mine?”
“Mine.” He drank deeply. He seemed lost in his thoughts.
The skin on her scalp tightened the way it did before a lightning storm. Somehow she had to end this tête-a-tête on a friendly note.
She picked up her glass and carried it to the window. Her legs felt rubbery, like the first moments on land after a long voyage. Unfortunately, this voyage would continue and a storm loomed on the horizon.
She gazed out into the dark, breathing in the warm salt air. “Thank you for a pleasant evening.”
As quiet as a cat he appeared behind her, his face reflected in the glass over her shoulder, his lips curved in a sweet almost boyish smile. A trick of the light, no doubt, but the memory of those firm demanding lips on hers, his hard body pressed against her, fired off a storm of heat. A demented blush from head to toe. Thankfully, hidden in the dark reflection.
“You were right about me,” he said, his voice low, his body warm at her back. “Once, I also had all the advantages of wealth and position.”
She resisted the urge to sympathize despite the sorrow in his voice. “Did you lose your money in one of London’s hells? Is that why you prey on ships? Stealing what you lost?”
His reflected gaze skewered her like a blade. “I will never replace what I lost.”
The depth of pain in those words swept across her skin like the sand of a desert storm. “You lost the family estate? It happens all the time. Fortunes won and lost in a night.” Men who committed suicide in the cold light of the following day.
At least Father preferred the comfort of brandy. She shuddered.
The silence stretched taut and painful. The urge to fill it, to pretend thing were normal brought words to her lips. “What will you do when the war is over? When there are no more letters marque? No more ships to be taken. What are your plans for peace?”
The long exhale of breath, a sigh of longing he probably wasn’t aware of. “I plan to return to England. I have unfinished business there.”
“You think you will be welcome?”
“I think you have lied to me all evening, Miss Fulton.

  © Michele Ann Young

To Purchase this book you have all kinds of choices. Here are a few links for you to try:

Amazon.com

From Barnes and Noble


Until Next Time, Happy Rambles



 

Merry Christmas

Have a Wonderful Holiday and I will be back in the New Year

Longleat

Don't forget to enter the Harlequin Holiday Give Away. Go to my website to find all the authors participating and all the wonderful Prizes.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful houses I have visited, though each has its own charm, is Longleat. Now I have to say, I did not visit the zoo or the safari or any of that stuff. As always my interest is the house and the grounds and any interesting tidbits of family history.

It was quite misty as we drove in and I loved this view of the house from high on the hill. I could almost imagine myself in a coach and four to attend a house party given by the second Marquess of Bath. More likely I'd been lighting the fires, but ah well, it is fun to dream.

It is not possible to take pictures inside the house, since it is still the property of the Marquess of Bath, unlike so many other of the great homes which their noble owners could no long afford to keep. I for one am glad that some have managed to find ways to retain their ancestral homes.

Longleat has seven libraries with over 40,000 books some of which go back five centuries to when the family first built the house. I can pretty well guarantee that they don't own one of my books. No hard feelings though.

The wall covering in the dining room was particularly interesting, because it was so unusual, tooled Spanish leather made in Cordoba around 1620. Furniture and paintings fill magnificent rooms and it was a pleasure to walk through them.





This is a picture of the wisteria which climbs the orangery wall and the next view is of the orrangery itself.  We have seen several of these in various blogs, but this is a very large and beautiful one at the back of a formal garden.

It was the second Marquess of Bath who spanned the Regency era and into the Victorian age, he brought much of the house up to date at that time and of course it has been renovated since. 

New Book Out

A Rake for Christmas    

It is always special when a book comes out.  This one is a short story, my very first Christmas themed book. I got the idea for the setting when I visited Keates's house on Hampstead Heath one summer.  Not that my rakish hero is a poet. Far from. He's a very bad boy.

But like Keates he does share his house with a very lovely lady. The house is divided into two apartments, not up and down, but side by side.  He has been watching her chase her cat in the garden, and calls her the cat lady, and she has been listening to his shenanigans through the walls of her house.
Their meeting is explosive, to say the least:

One more try and then she’d go home. She knocked harder and longer.
    The door flew open as if blown back by the wind. “I knew you’d be back,” a deep mocking voice said.
    He stepped into the lamplight.
    Mouth open she stared at the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. A blond blue-eyed archangel. Elegant of stature, he looked thoroughly masculine in his shirtsleeves and open collar. Perfection in a state of disreputable undress. Not the raddled roué she’d expected, but a Greek god and a dangerous pirate all rolled into one.
    A gust of wind drove snow in through his door and flakes clung to his long golden lashes. So pretty. So enticing. Heat rushed through her body. Like a bolt of hot lightning, longing trembled in her bones.   
    Yearning for something she could not have.
    “Only one of you?” Summer-sky eyes tracked down her length from head to toe.
    Oh how she wished she’d worn something less shabby than her old cat-catching shawl. “I—”
    A smile of appreciation curved his sensual mouth. “Well, since Heaven sent you, I’m sure you’ll make up for the lack. Come on in before you freeze.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her over the threshold and closed the door.
    Astonished she gazed up at him. Before she could utter a protest, his hands went to her waist and he brushed his warm dry lips across her mouth. A sigh of appreciation forced its way up her throat. She barely managed to contain it.
    Instinctively, she placed her free hand on his shoulder, intending to push him away, parting her lips to to tell him to stand back. She was sure that was what she meant to do, but when his tongue swept her mouth, warm and silky and tasting of brandy, the spicy scent of his cologne filling her nostrils, instead of pushing, her fingers curled into the soft cambric of his shirt and pulled him closer. Memories of the pleasure of kisses and caresses melting any thought of resistance.
    Slowly, lingeringly, he kissed her, exploring her mouth with the leisurely strokes of a master seducer. Finally he broke the kiss and she stood breathless, dizzy, held up only by the strong hands in the indentation beneath her ribs. It was all she could do to keep her feet, to not collapse from the delicious assault on her senses.
    His kiss had set free all the pent up desires of the past few weeks. Her insides ached and fluttered.
    He looked down at her, a lock of unruly tawny hair falling over his brow, a wicked smile curving his sensually carved mouth. “I just had to see if you tasted as good as you looked.” His smile broadened. “You do. Lucky me.”

Not that the path to true love is ever that smooth as he is about to find out.

Well that's all from me, until next time happy rambles.

Will I ever finish?

I have had this project ongoing for some time now. Years in fact. And I am beginning to wonder if I will ever finish.  I never have that problem with finishing my stories, but this, well it would be a great shame not to finish it now and have it framed, don't you think? (And I have a few more that I would like to tackle too.)

Seeing the NaNoWriMo excitement, I thought I would try to give myself a bit of encouragement.  I am going to post my progress from time to time. Once a month.  Here is a picture of where I am at the moment.

The thing is, it is dreadfully fiddly counted cross stitch and its hard to see if you are making any progress at all.  This is only the top one third of the whole piece.

All of the cross stitch is done, now we are embellishing.

Next, I have to finish the outside border, there is some outlining to be done around the very edge and then that criss cross stuff you can see that stops before it reaches the top, and then there are beads to add. Anyway, by this time next month, I hope to have the outside border completely finished and then I can start on outlining the greenery and finishing off the peacock inside the large picture panel.

It will be interesting to see if this helps motivate me to get this done.  One year. That is what I am aiming for.

More about the Regency next time.

Daphne Du Maurier

You may recall that my first book with Harlequin, The Rake's Inherited Courtesan,  won the 2010 Daphne, or as the full title explains, the Daphne Du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, Historical Category (Awarded by RWA's Kiss of Death Chapter.)  

Daphne Du Maurier, pictured left as a teen,  wrote suspense novels. Several of her novels have been made into films, including The Birds and Rebecca. The story that interested me most was Jamaica Inn.

  Jamaica Inn,  was almost set in the Regency, 1820 in fact, and it is a romance.  The story is classified as  a gothic romance and tells the tale of a young woman who gets tangled up with a gang of wreckers. (Men who used lanterns to misdirect ships on to the rocks of the Cornish coast, kill the crew and steal the cargo.) The heroine encounters many harrowing adventures.

Jamaica Inn, where she set her story  exists today, and is still a pub, but is also a museum to both the author and the smuggling history of Cornwall.


Last summer we visited Cornwall, and naturally Jamaica Inn was a must see.

As you can imagine, while I was interested in the author and her life, I was more taken with the artifacts and information relating to smuggling which I am going to share with you. here.

The picture on the left known as landing the goods and there is little more to be said.  On the right are tools and weapons used on both sides of the law. For example the pig sticking knife and the wooden farm flail were used by smugglers, since they were not army or navy weapons a man could carry them with impunity.  The swords and cutlasses were carried by excisemen or naval officers. 

Here is an assortment of lanterns, handy for smugglers to carry or signal with.

Down in the right hand corner is something really interesting. It is called a scuffling iron.  Now this is the technical term for what the last man of the train of smugglers used to hide their tracks.  It was a reverse horse shoe, and with one hand he would sweep away the track of the horsed with a tree branch and with the other would stamp the scuffling iron (which was attached to something like a broom handle) into the ground, thereby confusing anyone trying to follow.

Not exactly high tech, and not likely to fool too many people either I think, but who knows?

The Jamaica Inn is on Bodmin Moor, not that close to the sea, so it would have been used as a place to hide contraband, I would think.  And a very lonely place it is too, even today, as you can see from the pictures I took from the parking lot.








There will be more on smuggling another time, but for now, Happy Rambles.

The Bankes's of Kingston Lacy (Continued)

Holiday Contest Reminder

Just a reminder to check back for details, either here or on my website on November 29 when the annual Harlequin Historical Contest begins. There are all kinds of prizes from each author every day, plus a grand prize of a Kindle Fire (where available) and an equivalent where it is not.
I will also be posting on twitter and facebook too.



Back to William Bankes 

 

The Philae obelisk.

Made of pink granite, the obelisk was first seen by William Bankes in 1815. It arrived in England in 1821, after almost sinking to the bottom of a river in Egypt, and was transported overland to Kingston Lacy on a gun carriage offered by the Duke of Wellington. The foundation stone was laid by the Duke in April 1827.

Can you imagine what your family would say if you brought this sort of souvenir home from your holiday?

As mentioned earlier. William Bankes's travels came to an end  in 1820. He did not inherit Kingston Lacy from his brother Henry until December 1834 and spent the next few years embellishing Soughton in Flintshire, instead writing up the details of his travels, sadly for us, I think.

Once he inherited, he began the task of altering Kingston Lady to suit his own tastes. Personally, I wish he might have left it as it was but that is purely selfish. I would not expect anyone to tell me I couldn't update my house.

Unfortunately, William was forced to leave England in 1841 after a second charge of  "indecently exposing himself with a soldier of the Foot Guards in Green Park". The possible punishments were dreadful at the time and his reputation in society would have been ruined. He jumped bail and fled to Italy. The rest of his life he continued to fit out the interiors of Kingston Lacy with the help of his sister Lady Falmouth.  There is some evidence that he did pay secret visits to the house on which he lavished so much care, but as a fugitive from the law, the family could never openly admit it. I certainly hope he did get to see his home from time to time.

There is more to know about the family and the house, and it is well worth a visit, for the grounds are simply spectacular, but for my purposes, all things 'regency', it is done.

Until next time, Happy Rambles.