FREE READ The Apothecary's Widow, leeches and blood, by Diane Scott Lewis

In my novel, The Apothecary's Widow, a murder mystery, Free Read for October, I delved into eighteenth century apothecaries. Set in Truro, England, in 1781, Jenna Rosedew has taken over her husband's practice after his death. But soon she'll be accused of murder.

In researching the apothecary business, I found that many of the poorer people used the apothecary as a doctor, since it was cheaper for them.

I visited an actual eighteenth century apothecary's shop in Fredericksburg, Virginia, once owned by Hugh Mercer. We were shown squiggly leeches, and how they were used to heal the sick, sucking out poisons in the body. Leeches are sometimes used today, shockingly now for beauty treatments.
Bloodletting was another popular treatment, a quick cut in the vein, and blood dripped into a bowl. It was supposed to restore the humors.

Hugh Mercer's shop, courtesy of Wikipedia

Hugh Mercer was a Scotsman and a close friend of George Washington. He was a doctor and a soldier. Unfortunately, he was killed during the American Revolution.
Apothecaries of this time mixed their own concoctions, grinding herbs, boiling simple syrups. Melting candy to make cough syrups.

Jenna is diligent in her work, but when a prominent woman dies after drinking one of her tinctures, fingers point at her. Branek, the woman's husband, also comes under suspicion. His marriage was far from happy. But secrets abound and a revengeful constable can't wait to take both of them down for a hanging. Will Jenna and Branek learn to trust one another and work together to find the killer? And what about the attraction they begin to feel, as they are a most unsuitable couple?

Download the FREE READ (scroll down to cover pic of The Apothecary's Widow, that will take you to the PDF, click to download here: BWL FREE READ

For more information on me and my books, please visit my website: Diane Scott Lewis

Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for magazines and an on-line publisher. She lives with her husband, and a naughty new puppy, in Western Pennsylvania.

Peggy Shippen, beautiful British Spy, by Diane Scott Lewis

While researching my novel Her Vanquished Land, I came across many women who spied during the American Revolution. I wanted my heroine Rowena in the thick of the war, spying for the British, in what would become a lost cause.

Margaret 'Peggy' Shippen, the second wife of Benedict Arnold--a man whose name would become synonymous with the term 'traitor'--was reportedly also a spy for the British and a force to be reckoned with.

 

Born in Philadelphia in 1760, Peggy's prominent family were Loyalists (other sources refute this), the people who stood behind George III and the British government when war broke out in the colonies. Peggy met Benedict Arnold when he was military commander of the city. She and Arnold married in 1779. Arnold, feeling underappreciated and underpaid by George Washington, began conspiring with the British to change sides. Peggy, it's been reported, played a major role in convincing her husband to desert the Americans, ask for command and weaken the Fort of West Point, to turn it over to the British.

Arnold

 

According to Aaron Burr (lawyer, politician, and third vice president of the U.S.), Mrs. Arnold, "was disgusted with the American cause" and "through unceasing perseverance, she had ultimately brought the general into an arrangement to surrender West Point."

British documents from 1792 show that Mrs. Arnold was paid £350 for her handling of secret dispatches.



However, the surrendering of the fort was discovered, and she fled with Arnold to England. There, she supposedly received payment from the king for her involvement.

She returned to America after the war, in 1789; but in spite of her family's influence she was treated coldly and called a traitor. Arnold died in 1801 leaving Peggy in debt. She died in London in 1804, probably from cancer.

Some say the charges against Peggy aren't true. Joseph Reed, the nominal head of the government (lawyer, military leader, and statesman), resented Arnold's rise to importance and spread ugly rumors about both him and his wife. Reed even called George Washington an incompetent commander. It's hard to know what to believe.

History and Women gave Her Vanquished Land Five Stars: "Diane Scott Lewis has penned a passionate tale about a brave young woman, often in the guise of a lad, who will do anything to save her family and demonstrate her loyalty for the Brits as they lose. It is a novel of loss, of strength, and the love of family. You must read this book! Well done!" 

Blurb:

In 1780, Rowena Marsh decodes messages for the British during the American Revolution. When the rebels overrun her home state of Pennsylvania, she flees with her family. Are the people loyal to England welcome anywhere in the burgeoning United States? Rowena struggles with possible defeat and permanent exile, plus her growing love for an enigmatic Welshman who may have little need for affection. Will the war destroy both their lives?

 

Purchase Her Vanquished Land HERE

Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for magazines and an on-line publisher. She lives with her husband in Western Pennsylvania.

A fight for America, Loyalists must choose or die, by Diane Scott Lewis

FREE on Kindle Unlimited for a short time.

Her Vanquished Land - a revolutionary Gone with the Wind.

In researching the American Revolution, I learned the plight of the loyalists who didn't want to separate from England. They didn't understand how a band of anarchists could form their own country, and desert the motherland. How could they be set adrift in this strange land, to make their own laws, and survive? The rebels were tired of over-taxation and no representation in British Parliament. The loyalists hoped for a compromise.

Eventually, the loyalists were forced to choose: join the rebels, escape or die. Spies abounded on both sides, double agents infiltrated each camp. Both Rebels and Loyalists believed in their cause. A terrible war, brutal bloodshed, resulted.

Many people were confused about which side to join.  My heroine, Rowena, ended up on the wrong side of the war, her family staunch loyalists, her brothers fighting as officers in the British army. She demanded to aid the loyalist cause and spy for the British.
As the rebels gained in battle, her livelihood and home confiscated, Rowena's family had to flee.

Blurb: In 1780, Loyalist Rowena Marsh insists on spying for the British during the American Revolution. As a girl, she must dress as a boy, plus endure devastation and murder as she decodes messages for a mysterious Welshman. The tide has turned in the rebels’ favor. General George Washington appears to be winning. The loyalists are bombarded by threats and lost battles. Rowena stays determined to aid the British cause and preserve her family as they’re chased from their Pennsylvania home.

She struggles with impending defeat and permanent exile, plus her growing love for the Welshman who may have little need for affection. Will the war destroy both their lives?

For further information on me and my books, please visit my website: www.dianescottlewis.org

Purchase Her Vanquished Land HERE

 

 Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for magazines and an on-line publisher. She lives with her husband in Pennsylvania.

 

A Woman who Fights Against the Tide by Diane Scott Lewis

A young woman torn apart by war. My upcoming historical novel, Her Vanquished Land, (September release) explores the American Revolution from the Loyalists' side--the people who stayed loyal to King George III--as seen through the eyes of a young lady. The rebels, or revolutionaries, punished these Loyalists, confiscating their property, and in some cases even hanging them. No one was allowed to stay neutral. They had to pick a side.

Rowena Marsh lives an upper middle-class life in Easton, Pennsylvania, north of Philadelphia. Her father, a lawyer until chased from town by the rebels, is a staunch Loyalist. She believes what he does, that these rabble-rousers who want independence will never be able to win against the mighty British army.
Rowena is nearly eighteen, she has lost her mother to illness, and she's a tomboy, or hoyden in 18th century terms. She can't understand why her world is crumbling around her and wants to join in the fight.

Her brothers are serving in the British army, her irascible cousin sneaks off to clandestine meetings, and she feels she must do her part. Her life in constant danger, she follows her cousin to Philadelphia, a hotbed of rebel turmoil. But a mysterious Welshman, a cohort of her cousin, seems to be stalking her.

I got the idea to write of the Loyalists while researching my Canadian Brides novel, On a Stormy Primeval Shore.
But, I must admit, for an American it's not popular to write of the British side. How do I make my characters sympathetic? Giving Rowena confusion over which side is right as time goes on is one way to appeal to others.

Her Vanquished Land blurb:

In 1780, Loyalist Rowena Marsh insists on spying for the British during the American Revolution. As a girl, she must dress as a boy, plus endure devastation and murder as she decodes messages for a mysterious Welshman. The tide has turned in the rebels’ favor. General George Washington appears to be winning. The loyalists are bombarded by threats and lost battles. Rowena stays determined to aid the British cause and preserve her family as they’re chased from their Pennsylvania home.

She struggles with possible defeat and permanent exile, plus her growing love for the Welshman who may have little need for affection. Will the war destroy both their lives?

For further information on me and my books, please visit my website: www.dianescottlewis.org

 

Or perfuse my BWL author page: BWL

 

Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for magazines and an on-line publisher. She lives with her husband in Pennsylvania.

The Sequel to my best seller! How I had to create one.

Diane Scott Lewis was born in California, wrote her first novel at five (with her mother's help), and published short-stories and poems in school magazines. She had a short-story submitted by my High School to a literary festival when she was seventeen. She joined the navy at nineteen. Married her navy husband in Greece, had two sons. She now lives in Western Pennsylvania.
  
She had her first novel published in 2010. That novel is now the reworked Escape the Revolution.
But today we discuss the sequel, Hostage to the Revolution, due out July 19th.

What do you do when a book grows too big?                        

When I started writing, I had no idea there were word count restrictions. I'd read huge, lumbering books numerous times. But the fiction world had changed, especially for a new author.

The answer to this problem is you cut the story in half, or in this case, the last third, which was the perfect place to break the flow. When I wrote this first novel, originally titled The False Light, renamed Betrayed Countess, and now Escape the Revolution, it grew to nearly 700 pages. I suppose I didn’t want the adventure to end, but the novel was unwieldy, and out of control.

I had to shave off the last third, plump up that part of the story, and create a sequel: Hostage to the Revolution.

Below is the blurb to explain the first book ESCAPE THE REVOLUTION:

Forced from France on the eve of the French Revolution, Countess Bettina Jonquiere must deliver an important package to further the royalist cause. In England, she discovers the package is full of blank papers, the address false and she’s penniless. Bettina toils in a bawdy tavern and falls in love with a man who may have murdered his wife. Tracked by ruthless revolutionaries, she must uncover the truth about her father’s murder—and her lover’s guilt—while her life is threatened.

The Historical Novel Society called it: "Simply brilliant."

For the reviewers who lamented that this novel has no Happily Ever After, that’s because you need to read the sequel for the true ending. For those who haven’t read the first book, I hope you’ll download both novels.

Here’s the blurb for HOSTAGE TO THE REVOLUTION:

Sequel to Escape the Revolution. In 1796, ruined countess Bettina Jonquiere leaves England after the reported drowning of her lover, Everett.  In New Orleans she struggles to establish a new life for her children. Soon a ruthless Frenchman demands the money stolen by her father at the start of the French Revolution. Bettina is forced on a dangerous mission to France to recover the funds. She unravels dark family secrets, but will she find the man she lost as well?

This last book on Bettina’s story will be available July 19^th.

I hope fans will enjoy both of these novels. I think readers will be satisfied with this surprise ending.

For more on my books, please visit my BWL Author page

Or my website: dianescottlewis.org

 

Deadly or a Curative-poisons in medications, by Diane Scott Lewis

Poisons and poisonous plants have been utilized for centuries in medications. A Persian physician in the tenth century first discovered that poisons such as mercury could be employed as curatives, and not just on the tip of an arrow to kill your enemy. But poisons had to be managed carefully.

Plants, long the healing forte of the wise-woman in England, were a common ingredient in medicinal “potions,” though so many had deadly qualities. The foxglove, with its beautiful hooded, purple bloom is fatal if eaten.

But eighteenth century British physician, William Withering, used infusions of this plant to treat dropsy (now known as edema). Later, the plant was used to create digitalis for heart failure.

Rosy periwinkle is also toxic to eat. However, in traditional Chinese and Indian medicine, it’s used to treat diabetes and constipation.

More well known is the Opium poppy, used to make morphine (and unfortunately heroin-the killer of many an addict). Morphine is invaluable as a pain reliever for the sickest of patients. Small doses of other deadly toxins such as henbane, hemlock and mandrake have been employed to ease the pain of surgeries. But a dose slightly too high would kill the patient.

In Shakespeare’s time, poisonous extracts were added to cough medicines. Opiates were common in cough remedies, mainly for sedation. Mrs. Cotton in the seventeenth century suggested a mixture of vinegar, salad oil, liquorice, treacle, and tincture of opium when “the cough is troublesome.”

No one yet understood the addictive nature of these drugs—if the patient lived to find out.
The chemical element mercury, another toxin, was used starting in the 1500’s to treat syphilis.
Well into the twentieth century, mercury was an ingredient in purgatives and infant’s teething powder.

Arsenic is another poison that was commonly added to medications. A chemical element, arsenic is found in many minerals. In the 18th to 20th centuries, arsenic compounds, such as arsphenamine (by Paul Ehrlich, 1854-1915) and arsenic trioxide (by Thomas Fowler, 18th c.) were popular. Arsphenamine was also used to treat syphilis. Arsenic trioxide was recommended for the treatment of cancer and psoriasis.

Numerous people suffered adverse effects or died after the ingestion of these lethal ingredients.
In my recent release, The Apothecary’s Widow, arsenic is found in the tinctures used to treat the ague of Lady Pentreath. Unfortunately, arsenic is not one of the ingredients listed in that cure, and never in such a large dose. Who murdered Lady Pentreath, her miserable husband, Branek, or the apothecary Jenna who prepared the medicines, a widow about to be evicted from her shop, which is owned by the Pentreaths? A corrupt constable threatens to send them both to the gallows.

Click here to purchase The Apothecary’s Widow.

To find out more about my novels, please visit my website:
http://www.dianescottlewis.org

Sources:
livescience.com
The Power of Poison: Poison as Medicine, the American Museum of Natural History
William Buchan, Domestic Medicine: or, a treatise on the prevention and cure of diseases by regimen and simple medicines [second edition] (London: 1772)
Wikipedia

Eighteenth Century Welfare-Parish Relief, by Diane Scott Lewis

In my continued research into history, to add to my 18th century novels, I came across interesting details about the English version of Welfare, Parish Relief. Charity in this era was limited. The very poor had to rely on parish relief to survive. But first they had to prove they had a legal link, such as birth, a residence or employment, in the parish—the territorial area under the clerical jurisdiction of one parish priest—where they sought funds. People who were denied parish relief were sometimes found starved to death.

Some parishes were so small they tried to shuffle their poor into the larger neighboring parishes. The elderly and sick were turned away. A few parishes paid indigent bachelors in other settlements 40 shillings to marry their poor women to take them off the books. Overseers of the poor might interfere in a marriage between two paupers, fearing it would result in burdensome children.
To make matters worse, parish authorities were often corrupt and stingy. They’d spend the Poor Rate (the tax on prosperous citizens for the care of the poor) on themselves instead of their deserving claimants.

The poor rates were a source of constant irritation to those who had to pay them. As the population and rates rose, the richer citizens were desperate to find others to pay for their poor. Men who deserted their wives or bastard children were pursued for support. One prominent merchant was discovered to have let his mother wilt away in a workhouse—he was forced to pay for her maintenance.

For deserted children, or foundlings, wherever they were found was their settlement/parish. Self-sacrificing women often traveled to the richer parishes at the onset of labor, hoping to birth their babies in more solvent settlements. But the parish authorities were aware of this and would force these women back over the boundaries. The Parish Act of 1772 came to the aid of these women by stating: “mothers who are suddenly taken in labour will no longer be subject to be removed...” Of course, enforcing this act was another matter.

Children born in wedlock were part of their father’s settlement. If the fathers died, after the age of seven, the children became part of their mother’s parish.

Reformer Jonas Hanway—a merchant who had traveled widely (and the first Londoner to carry an umbrella)—devoted himself to philanthropy. His efforts resulted in a Parliamentary act in 1767 to set aside funds to send urban orphans to country wet-nurses, and provided incentives for the children’s survival.

Though commissioned in the late seventeenth century, the classic eighteenth century’s solution to ending poverty and idleness was the workhouse. By the 1720’s parishes could commit any pauper who sought relief to the workhouse. Ideally a shelter, these places could never make a profit since many people were indigent because there wasn’t enough work available. Workhouses became the repository of the sick, elderly and mentally retarded. Infants consigned to workhouses before Hanway’s intervention were virtually sentenced to death. Hanway called one London workhouse “the greatest stink of mortality in these kingdoms, if not on the face of the whole earth.”

Three substantial private charities would be formed to take the burden from the parishes. The Foundling Hospital for abandoned children, Magdalen House to reform prostitutes, and Hanway’s Marine Society to clothe and prepare pauper boys for the navy.

Parish relief was resented, underfunded, unorganized and corrupt. Along with these issues and the misunderstanding of poverty’s causes, attempts to help the poor, or at least make them less visible, were doomed to fail.

Enjoy my recent release which takes place in 1781 Truro, England: The Apothecary’s Widow.

Click HERE to purchase

Diane Scott Lewis writes historical fiction with romantic elements.
http://www.dianescottlewis.org

Sources:
Daily Life in 18th Century England, by Kirstin Olsen, 1999
Dr. Johnson’s London, by Liza Picard, 2000

The English Domestic Servant, by Diane Scott Lewis

CLICK TO PURCHASE FROM AMAZON

In the eighteenth century, a time when domestic service was seen as easier than toiling in a shop or factory, a poor farmer’s sons and daughters would go happily into this type of work. Even a parson’s family did not look down on the occupation.

However, the English domestics thought of themselves as a cut above.
The English servant was quite independent and rarely satisfied with low wages. Instead of being content in the early part of the century with £2 a year, they were demanding as much as £6 and £8. Writer Daniel Defoe wanted to see wages fixed at no more than £5, or soon this rabble would insist on as much as £20.

Lord Fermanagh, when writing to a friend about his butler, who had the audacity to ask for £10, said: “I would have a sightly fellow and one that has had the smallpox, and an honest man, for he is entrusted with store of plate, and can shave, but I will give no such wages as this.”

The English servant stood up for himself, giving notice or running away if ill-treated. One servant, after being struck by his master, turned on the man and killed him with a pitchfork.

Foreigners were amazed—since they treated their servants like slaves—to see a nobleman like Lord Ferrers hanged in 1760 for the murder of his steward.

In the earlier part of the century there was a scarcity of women servants, but later, after years of bad harvests, starvation sent many girls into service. One lady, upon advertising for another housemaid, had over 200 applicants.
If wages were low, servants in a large house could supplement their pay with vails (tips). One foreigner complained after dining with a friend at his home: “You’ll find all the servants drawn up in the passage like a file of musqueteers from the house steward, down to the lowest liveried servant, and each of them holds out his hand to you in as deliberate a manner as the servants in our inns on the like occasion.”

One clergyman reported that when he dined with his Bishop, he spent more in vails than would have fed his family for a week.
At lease the Duke of Ormonde, when inviting a poor relation to dine, always sent him a guinea ahead of time for the vails.
A movement, rumored to have started in Scotland, was put forth to abolish vails (tips) but nothing came of it.

If servants believed themselves independent, striving for respect, their employers often demanded too much from them for little pay. Mrs. Purefoy advertised for a coachman, who can not only drive four horses, but must understand husbandry business and cattle, plus he’d also be expected to plough. She also required a footman who could “work in the garden, lay the cloth, wait at table, go to the cart with Thomas, and do any other business that he is ordered to do and not too large sized a man, that he may not be too great a load for the horse when he rides.”

Servants were derided by their “betters” as being lazy and selfish, especially when they’d leave their positions for higher wages and vails.

Of course, many servants during the eighteenth century—especially in the larger towns and cities—were mistreated and far underpaid, if paid at all.

Still, some servants were honored and treated as members of the family, as shown by this epitaph on a coachman’s headstone: Coachman the foe to drink and heart sincere; Of manners gentle and of judgment clear; Safe through the chequered track of life he drove; And gained the treasure of his master’s love...

To learn more about Diane's eighteenth-century novels, please visit her website:
http://www.dianescottlewis.org

Source: English Country Life in the Eighteenth Century, by Rosamond Bayne-Powell, 1937

The rise of reading for pleasure, especially for women, in Georgian England, by Diane Scott Lewis

Women, deemed not worth educating, except for sewing and cooking, came into their own with reading in the eighteenth century (though many men still thought it disordered their feeble little minds) This century witnessed a huge boom in book reading. Between the 1500’s and the mid-eighteenth century, male literacy grew from ten to sixty per cent. Women, naturally with less opportunity, lagged behind, ranging from one to forty percent, but still an improvement. Female literacy grew the fastest in London, probably with the rise of the middle, merchant, class.

The elite—the aristocratic, noble and rich merchant males—were almost totally literate by 1600.

Obviously, as literacy grew so did the desire for books. A spurt in publishing—due to the relaxation of the crown and conservatism—started in the late seventeenth century to meet those needs.

Books in the past were rare, usually of a religious bent, and treated as sacred. Cookery and herbal books were found in many households. Sermons and poetry were the most widely published literary forms in this era. History books were national or Eurocentric, with an emphasis on understanding France (and do we yet understand the French?).

But now the populace wanted to read for pleasure as well as learning.

Books became widely available from lending libraries, booksellers, and even itinerant peddlers sold abbreviated versions of Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders, or Henry Fielding’s Joseph Andrews and Tom Jones.

Periodicals, such as the Gentleman’s Magazine, advertised what new novels were available to order and purchase from the booksellers. These books could also be borrowed for a nominal fee.

Library at Margate

The large circulating libraries offered places where patrons could browse, gossip, flirt, or actually read a book. These establishments promoted learning and leisure. Novels, tales, and romances were the most checked-out books. History remained popular, such as Captain Cook’s voyages, and William Robertson’s History of the Americas in two volumes (1777). Sterne’s Tristram Shandy and Dr. Johnson’s Lives of the Poets were also well-borrowed.

The fee of three shillings a quarter, kept the poorer people at bay. But libraries were still a bargain because books weren’t cheap. By the third quarter of the century one novel could cost three shillings.

Unfortunately, libraries earned the reputation as places full of fictional pap served up for rich ladies with nothing better to do than read romantic nonsense. Though men remained the majority subscribers, visiting to read or discuss religious and political controversy.

Church libraries offered books to the poorer in the parish, though probably not the variety.

Coffee houses maintained collections of books for their patrons, which had to be read on the premises. Any man, merchant or laborer, could wander in, order a glass of punch, and read a newspaper—a sign of English liberty.

Even the illiterate were encouraged to buy books so their more literate friends could read to them. People read aloud in taverns for the enjoyment of the less educated.

Well-appointed homes had private libraries for the use of family and guests. In 1650 few country houses had a room set aside for books and reading, while in the late eighteenth century a house without a library was unthinkable.

Books became icons. In paintings, the depiction of a man with books became as common as with his spouse or dog. And though men would never admit it, the frivolous novel reader was as much male as female.

With this wider reading public, more women romantic writers emerged, such as Fanny Burney (Evelina, 1778; Cecilia, 1782) and Ann Radcliffe (The Mysteries of Udolpho, 1794). But men also wrote romantic novels: Clarissa by Samuel Richardson, 1749; Amelia by Henry Fielding, 1751.

Nevertheless, women read critically to lift the mind from sensation to intellect as well as their male counterparts.

Everyone profited from increased literacy, education and the availability of the written word to broaden the mind in the sciences, philosophy, history, and of course, those romantic novels for pleasure.

　

Source: The Pleasures of the Imagination, by John Brewer, 1997

Diane Scott Lewis writes historical fiction with romantic elements. Visit her website:

http://www.dianescottlewis.org

　

A visit to All Hallows Eve in the 18th Century, by Diane Scott Lewis

To celebrate the coming of Halloween, and for my historical novel Ring of Stone, I researched ancient customs in Cornwall. Here is an abridged excerpt where my heroine, Rose, slips out in the night with her brother on All Hallows Eve to witness the rising of the spirits:

Rose opened the back door to the inky black. A lantern winked not far off. "That should be Mr. Poldeen." Her heart skipped and she stepped out into a cold breeze that whipped her face. Her brother Michael rushed past her toward the lantern.

The caretaker, Mr. Poldeen, tipped his hat when she came close. "Are you ready, Miss Rose?"

"Of course, let us proceed." She walked beside him. The lantern bobbed a circle of light as they approached the stream. Poldeen took her hand and helped her over it. Such a casual, polite gesture, yet her skin heated at the touch of his strong callused palm.

"Hurry!" Michael ran ahead, beyond the light.

"Your brother is quite anxious to find out about the spirits this night." Amusement filled Poldeen’s voice.

"I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Poldeen. I haven’t been very daring when it comes to this stone circle. But I’ve yet to understand why." She listened to make certain she still heard her brother’s footsteps.

"It comes from the same feeling as in St. Petroc’s. You should know, as like there, the ring has secrets, but is not evil."

How could rocks and stones have the same aspects as human beings? A tiny part of her worried that they’d experience nothing tonight, and the ring held no magic.

"Well, I’m here, and intend not to demure." She stumbled over a stone. He grasped her arm and held it. Again, she had that urge to lean into him. What had come over her with this man?

They reached the field. The breeze ruffled the grass. The ocean surf slapped the cliffs in the distance, like a living entity, breathing in and out.

"Michael, stay with us," Rose called when her brother, a murky outline, started to tramp over the grass. "Mr. Poldeen, please tell us some of tonight’s custom, won’t you?"

He waited until Michael rejoined them. "This be the end of the old year, or Samhain, meaning summer’s end, an’ the beginning of the new. The Celtic god straddles the two, and hopes to pierce the veil to see what comes."

Rose stared toward the cliff outline where the ring stood shrouded in darker shadows.

Poldeen set down the lantern. The light spread over their shoes. The salty wind flapped their coats like night birds. "The living can travel to the underworld, but all must return to their rightful place at cockcrow. If you have faith in the legend, this be the perfect time for your ancestors who died here to search for you."

"Senara died somewhere else. But Mrs. Trew insisted she was buried here." Rose shivered as the wind cut deeper. The darkness pressed in around her.

"Let’s walk over to the stone." Michael hopped up and down, rubbing his hands together.

"Let us do that, if you wish, Miss?" Poldeen picked up the lantern and crooked out his arm. Rose took it and they stepped across the damp grass. Michael again hurried ahead.

The cliffs were framed against the starry sky. Poldeen lifted the lantern until a blot of light trailed over the crags and across the stone circle, which looked quiet, innocuous.

"I read," Rose absorbed the heated closeness of his body, yet his nearness made her jittery—or maybe it was the unusual situation, "that the ancient Celtic view of time is a cycle. So tonight, this eve of the new year represents a point outside of time, when the natural order dissolves back into primordial chaos, and prepares to reestablish itself in a new order."

"’Tis true. The Celts see tonight as the time when they can view any other time, past or present. But the church, now they say not to hold a feast for the unblessed dead, only those hallowed, made holy. That’s why she’s All Hallows Eve." He halted. They stood only a few yards from the ring. The wind whistled through it like a flute.

Rose inhaled a deep, slow breath when the whistle turned to a moan.

"Can you hear that?" Michael leaned forward. "Is it Malscos calling to Senara?"

"Of course it isn’t. I want to step closer to the circle." Rose slid her foot forward in the grass. Hand fisted, this was her moment. She’d touch the ring and banish her qualms.

A flapping noise sailed over her head. Rose blinked and stared up. A bird or bat of some kind—wings fluttering in the shades of blackness. Her bonnet slapped at her cheeks and she stifled a gasp.

A figure, hunched over, hair flying, moved along the cliff top. A loud laugh sounded. Or was it more of a cry?

More rustling sounded, then feet running. Rose squeezed up against the caretaker before she realized she’d done it.

"It’s a woman." Michael ran up and grabbed her other hand. His fingers felt cold and trembled a little. "Senara! Is that you?"

Footsteps raced by, leaving the scent of herbs. Poldeen swung up the lantern.

The figure darted closer. Hair streamed in wisps about a round face, an arm thrust up to shield their eyes.

"They were here! The spirits have gone back now!" rasped a voice. "You be too late."

To find out what happens, purchase Ring of Stone.

Or visit my website: http://www.dianescottlewis.org

Diane Scott Lewis - Crazy Superstitions on Bodily Health

In researching my eighteenth-century novel, Ring of Stone-I delved into this research for a character, a young physician-I came across many interesting beliefs on how to cure sickness.

Before modern medicine lay people and some physicians held the belief that transferring the ailment to another object could cure you of disease. Since antiquity, and well into the eighteenth century, people believed that men reflected aspects of the natural world. It was a dominant strategy that explained the mysteries beyond the ken of the science of the day.

A man in late seventeenth century Somerset claimed that his brother was cured of a rupture by being passed through a slit cut in a young ash tree, three times on three Monday mornings before dawn. When the tree was later cut down, his brother grew ill again.

To cure jaundice, you took the patient’s urine, mix it with ashes and make three equal balls. Put these before a fire, and when they dried out, the disease leaves and he’s cured.

In Devon, to cure the quartan ague, you baked the patient’s urine into a cake, then fed the cake to a dog, who would take on the disease.

Even Richard Wiseman—a Barber Surgeon—who wrote Chirurgicall Treatises during the time of Charles II, believed to remove warts you rub them with a slice of beef, then bury the beef.

Color as well played a part in how health was viewed. "Yellow" remedies were used to cure jaundice: saffron, celandine with yellow flowers, turmeric, and lemon rind. John Wesley, who wrote Primitive Physick, in the mid-eighteenth century, suggested that sufferers of this illness wear celandine leaves under their feet.

Health was also governed by astrological explanations. Manuals intended for physicians and apothecaries included this "otherwordly" advice. Nicholas Culpeper detailed which herbs were presided over by which planets in his famous health text, Culpeper’s Complete Herbal. For example, if a headache was caused by the actions of Venus, then fleabane (an herb of Mars) would cure the malady.

However, the Vox Stellarum, the most popular almanac in the eighteenth century, took a more moderate view: "Men may be inclin’d but not compell’d to do good or evil by the influence of the stars." Yet this same almanac, in 1740, listed which diseases were prevalent in certain months—a vestigial form of astrological medicine.

Thank goodness more enlightened physicians, such as brothers William (a leading anatomist and renown obstetrician) and John Hunter (one of the most distinguished scientists and surgeons of his day) in the eighteenth century, came along to bring medical thinking into the modern world.

William Hunter

Though superstition among the lay people remained.

Information taken from, Patients, Power, and the Poor in Eighteenth Century Bristol, by Mary E. Fissell, 1991.

For more on myths and superstition, check out my novel Ring of Stone, where the myths of a stone ring in remote Cornwall may save a life while destroying another.

Here's the beautiful cover by Michelle.

　
To learn more about my novels: http://www.dianescottlewis.org


　

　
　

Diane Scott Lewis - The Tribulations of Publication in the Eighteenth Century-or "Nothing much has changed"

Firstly, the Georgian author would struggle to find a publisher. Aspiring authors sought these prestigious men—for you’d be hard-pressed to find a lowly woman with their feeble brains in this profession—at the many booksellers’ shops that huddled in the shadow of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. They would cart their precious manuscript to the Chapter Coffee House in Paternoster Row, where several stationers, booksellers and printers conducted their business.

If you lived in the provinces, too far from London, you had to use the postal service. The author would choose a bookseller, often after local advice, whose imprint he’d seen in newspaper advertisements or on a book’s title page. 

In 1759, Laurence Sterne, an obscure cleric in York, sent his unsolicited manuscript of Tristram Shandy to Robert Dodsley on the recommendation of John Hinxman, a York bookseller.

Sterne’s accompanying letter assured the publisher that his book had both literary and commercial value. Dodsley wasn’t impressed. He refused to pay the £50 Sterne requested for the copyright. The novel was rejected by a few publishers, but eventually achieved critical acclaim.

Whether the author approached a bookseller or used the post, his reception was usually chilly.

The arrogance if the bookseller was a common grievance among novelists, as depicted in Thomas Rowlandson’s drawing of 1780-84.

Though booksellers like Edmund Curll abused their position and their writers, many in this profession were honest and prudent men. They bore the burden of publication and profit and were inundated with manuscripts, most of which had no commercial merit. The sheer volume of submissions made it hard for them to discriminate. Most stayed with established figures rather than risk their money on an unknown author.

The hapless writer often resorted to appealing to the publisher’s personal interests, such as politics, religion, children’s literature or poetry. The astute author needed to research whom he’d submit to.

From the booksellers’ perspective, the letters Robert Dodsley received over thirty years showed authors as exacting and demanding in their requests, extolling their works as the perfect creations whose publication was eagerly awaited by the entire world, and they would "allow them to pass through his firm."

Aware of the fragile ego and financial status of writers, a few booksellers formed literary circles where authors could slake their thirst with food, alcohol and conversation. Brothers Charles and Edward Dilly, who published Boswell’s Life of Johnson, were famous for their literary dinners.

When an author approached a bookseller, he could also verify the merit of his work if he found a famous author who would publicly endorse it.

Dodsley

Dodsley’s literary career was promoted by Daniel Defoe. Despite bickering and competition, brother writers stood together to brace one another up in this risky endeavor.

Literary patronage—via a rich gentleman or the Court—was another way for an author to find publication, though this was fading by this century. Still, some thought of patronage as prostitution. Poet Charles Churchill proclaimed: "Gentlemen kept a bard, just as they keep a whore."

Subscription was another way to secure publication: collect pre-payments for a book not yet published. Dr. Johnson organized many subscriptions for unknown writers that he admired. He wasn’t always successful.

Constant rejection drove several authors to self-publish their works, which mirrors the Indie authors we have today. The uncertain road to publication over two hundred years ago seems much the same as the present.

Information garnered from: The Pleasures of the Imagination, English Culture in the Eighteenth Century, by John Brewer, 1997.

To see my extensive research into the eighteenth century, read my historical adventure set in England during the French Revolution: Betrayed Countess, available from Amazon.

http://www.amazon.com/Betrayed-Countess-Historical-Romance-ebook/dp/B00AS4CET8/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1357304063&sr=1-1&keywords=diane+scott+lewis


Visit my website for more info on my historical novels.

http://www.dianescottlewis.org




　

Diane Scott Lewis: Undergarments Revealed-what did people wear under their clothes in the 18th century?

In my research for my eighteenth-century novels, the most difficult but interesting task was to find out what people wore under their layers of finery.

Starting in the seventeenth-century, people were desperate to throw off the plain, ugly garments of the Puritans, and now produced underclothes with a sexual allure.

A man’s shirt became ruffled and more visible, with puffed sleeves tied in ribbons, to show him off as a fine gentleman.

Women’s dresses became less rigid, and cut away in front to flaunt pretty petticoats. The petticoat, often several of them, was worn to give the outer gown a better shape. It was often of embroidered or ruffled material in bright, attractive colors.

Beneath their dresses, next to their skin, women wore chemises or smocks made of Holland, and heavily perfumed to diffuse body odors.

Sleeves were long and sometimes trimmed in lace. In the 1660’s dress sleeves were shortened to reveal the evocative chemise. Silk and linen were also popular materials because they harbored less vermin than wool.

With the extreme décolletage of the gowns, corsets or "stays" had no shoulder straps. The corset was heavily boned with a long busk in front and was laced tightly at the back.

Drawers, what we know today as underwear or knickers, were worn by French women, but there’s no evidence that Englishwomen wore such an item in this era. Although a country race where women ran to win a new smock said the girls wore half-shirts and drawers. So it is still a mystery.

In the eighteenth century the hoop came into fashion again, reminiscent of the farthingale of the sixteenth century. These pushed out dress skirts and the women walked holding them to one side like a bell to reveal their fancy under-petticoats, and the shape of their legs. This must have been dangerous considering the women wore no knickers. The hoop or pannier, especially in Court dress, pushed the sides of gowns out to ridiculous proportions where women had to walk sideways to fit through doors. Later in the century, panniers became narrower and the corset lighter, lacing in the front as well as back.

Men still revealed their fancy shirts by leaving their waistcoats unbuttoned to attract the ladies.

Men’s drawers are another mystery. Some reports have them wearing such items—a loose fitting garment that tied at the waist and on each leg—but other sources say that men wore long shirts that covered their privates in their breeches. Breeches had linings of detachable washable material, which no doubt served the purpose of drawers.

During the French Revolution after 1789 the classic style pervaded, and women discarded their corsets and confining gowns for simple, high-waisted Greek style chemises. Many women dampened these dresses to show off the fact they were naked beneath. It would take the stringent Victorian age to turn fashion to a more modest level and bring back restrictive undergarments.

Information garnered from my own research and The History of Underclothes, by C. Willett and Phillis Cunnington, 1992 edition.
To learn more about Diane Scott Lewis' novels: http://www.dianescottlewis.org