Saturday, November 23, 2019

Regency Travel Part 2 – the Vehicles by Victoria Chatham




In my last post I wrote about the horses used for pulling vehicles in the Regency era. In this post, I will address the vehicles themselves. There is, I think, the romantic idea of what a coach and four should look like, largely engendered by illustrations for British Christmas cards. From those, it would be easy to think of the coach as being of British origin which is far from the fact. The English word ‘coach’ derives from the Hungarian post town of Kocs (pronounced koch) which  was introduced into England from France during the reign of Elizabeth 1, reputedly by Henry FitzAlan, 19th Earl of Arundel.

The coach, as we think of it today, is a closed-cab heavy, four-wheeled vehicle drawn by four or six horses. This, together with harness, coachmen, and grooms is termed a turnout. The Four-In-Hand Club of many a Regency tale grew out of a driving club formed in 1807. Four-in-hand means to hold the reins controlling all four horses in one hand, the left, while the whip is held in the right. A ‘veritable whip’ would be someone having mastered the art of driving a coach and four.

The Four-In-Hand Club dictated that their members wear ankle-length drab coats (drab is an undyed light brown wool) fastened with large mother-of-pearl buttons beneath which they sported blue waistcoats with inch-wide yellow stripes. The Barouche Club rules stated that the horses should all be bay and wear silver-mounted harnesses with rosettes at their head.  

Gigs, curricles, chaises, and phaetons are the usual vehicles of choice by Regency characters. A gig was a light, two-wheeled cart with fixed shafts drawn by one horse or pony. The curricle was also a light, two-wheeled vehicle but big enough for a driver and passenger. This was the most favoured vehicle for the young man about town, particularly if he could afford a carefully matched pair of horses to pull it. The chaise or post-chaise was a versatile closed-body four-wheeled carriage. It could seat two or four persons and could be drawn by two or four horses which, because the chaise was designed as a fast means of travel, would be changed every ten- to fifteen miles.
Postillion boots
Note the right boot is larger

This type of carriage could also be driven by postillions rather than a coachman. The postillions, often in the livery of their employer, rode the horse on the left side of the pair, their right leg being protected from the central wooden shaft and the right hand, or ‘offside’ horse, by a heavy, rigid boot. Horses are typically mounted on the left, or ‘nearside’, this method left over from medieval times. Right-handed knights wore their swords on their left side to make the sword easier to draw. Mounting their horses from the left side was simply the means to not have the sword in the way when they swung their right leg over the saddle.  




Ladies who enjoyed the sport of driving might be seen out and about in a phaeton, an open well-sprung four-wheeled carriage with the pair of back wheels larger than the front pair. It could be drawn by one or two horses and the very skilled or daring whipster, either male or female, might opt for the high-perch phaeton. The unfortunate downside of this particular vehicle was the fact that it was notoriously unstable, particularly when cornering and especially in the hands of an unskilled driver.
High Perch Phaeton

There were also barouches, landaus, and hackneys, the latter developing into the familiar black, two-wheeled conveyance drawn by one horse so familiar in Victorian times and continuing today with the familiar black London taxicab. Travelling anywhere during the Regency era could be fraught with danger, from the notoriously bad roads made worse by inclement weather, attacks by highwaymen, poor maintenance which could cause the harness to break or wheels to detach from the axles or inexperienced or careless coachmen.

Inspiration for my heroine's driving scenes in His Dark Enchantress came from the notorious Lady Letitia Lade and from more recent history, Mrs. Cynthia Haydon. Here is a short excerpt.

Lucius’ prized Hungarian horses, polished so they gleamed like copper and harnessed once more, were hitched to the barouche without further incident. Jem and Sid held the leader’s heads while Emmaline draped herself in the driving coat and settled herself on the box. Juliana handed her a three-cornered driving hat and settled herself against the buttoned velvet squabs as Noble swung up onto the seat beside Emmaline.

“Have no fear, Mr. Noble, I had an excellent teacher.” Emmaline carefully threaded the reins through the fingers of her left hand. “I drove a pony and trap when I turned six years old, a pair when I turned nine, a tandem when I turned eleven and my first four-in-hand on my fourteenth birthday. His Lordship shall not be disappointed.”
He might not be disappointed, Emmaline thought as she pointed the leaders out of the yard, but he would undoubtedly be furious.







Victoria Chatham










Friday, November 22, 2019

Books We Love Insider Blog: Holiday Releases from BWL Publsihing Inc.

Books We Love Insider Blog: Holiday Releases from BWL Publsihing Inc.: BWL Publishing takes a break in December, so instead of our normal new release posts we're offering you our Holiday eBooks for only ...

Holiday Releases from BWL Publsihing Inc.

BWL Publishing takes a break in December, so instead of our normal new release posts we're offering you our Holiday eBooks for only .99 cents each.  Scroll to the bottom for purchase information.



The old Santa’s drunk and Mandy Brooks, assistant manager of Wentworth’s, an upmarket department store doesn’t do Christmas. Then she’s forced to play the part of Mrs Santa in the store’s grotto. Trouble is Santa’s replacement is a blast from her past – one she ran away from at the altar five years ago.

Ditched on his wedding day, Tate Sullivan left town. Now he’s back and he’s got unfinished business with Mandy Brooks. He wants her back in his bed on his terms, his way. But nothing is going according to plan. (A Novella)

I really liked the premise of this story: two people being locked into a store on Christmas Eve during a snowstorm. Mandy and Tate have a lot of feelings, both good and bad about each other, and neither knows the whole story. Their mothers have a lot to answer for. The love scenes between the two are scorchers and the Mrs. Claus outfit makes for a few chuckles. This is a great holiday story. Maura, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More





Every Christmas Eve, Luke and Mary Cassidy’s friends and family gather to celebrate the holiday. From the kitchen wafts the scent of sugar cookies, fruit cake, and hot cider, not to mention all the other goodies.

Gathered around the piano singing carols is a prelude to the Christmas Eve church service.

This year Mary is worried about her beloved Luke’s health and she’s keeping an eye on the newly wedded Rob and Kayla. The poor girl is having a hard time keeping her cowboy hog-tied.

Then there’s Cale and Michelle. She loves Michelle like the daughter she never had, and Mary is afraid the silly girl will let her pride get in the way of her happiness with the young vet who has bought into the practice. A match maker’s work is never done it seems. What better season than Christmas to give true love a tiny push?





 Ryan hopes the adage “you can’t go home again” isn’t true because he hopes to find a miracle in his hometown.

A single dad, he quits his job and takes Emma, his ten year old daughter, back to Snow, the sometimes magical coal mining town in the hills of western Pennsylvania.

In addition to helping his aunt at the bakery, Ryan reconnects with a group of friends he’s known all his life as they struggle with the controversy for more efficient energy – coal versus wind – hard to do in a coal mining town.

As autumn turns to winter, Emma explores the secrets of Snow with her new friend, Charlie. When they discover an old man, new to town, remodeling the toy store, they set out to prove he’s Santa Clause.

Always Believe is a heartwarming story with all the enchantment of the holiday – a small town with stores like the Snickerdoodle Bakery and Wonderland Bookstore, a snow festival and children’s Christmas pageant, a touch of romance, and of course, a miracle or two.



Chantilly Morrison is set to launch Chantilly Frost, a new cosmetics line, by holding a “Dear Santa” contest to make women’s fantas

ies come true. But because of an error in the ad copy, she’s inundated with letters from children, whose scribbled wishes tug at her heart. She hires an investigator to find the letter writers so she can throw a huge Christmas party and make the children’s fantasies come true.

AJ Anderson can find the unfindable, whether it’s lost artifacts or people, and he’s very good at his job. But when Chanti dumps hundreds of letters in his lap with the directive to find the children-- before Christmas Eve-- he knows the request is impossible, but the woman is irresistible.

Should he use his skills to make her Christmas wish come true, or can he use the count down to Christmas to find the key that unlocks the lady’s heart?




 Stacy Martin, who has been married three times and had many relationships, doesn’t want a man in her life right now but her friends have other ideas. As a forty-ninth birthday present they pay for her to join three dating sites on the Internet. She just has to fill out the forms and pick the men she wants to meet. The only stipulation is that she must find a man by Christmas Eve so that the two of them can join Kate, one of her friends, and her boyfriend in Hawaii for New Year’s Eve.

“All you have to do is pick twelve men to date in December,” Kate said. “After the first date you can decide if you want to see each again. In the end you should be able to choose one for our Hawaii trip.”

Stacy has a full life with owning a flight attendant school, owning a rental condo, and owning a cat. Will she choose a man from a dating site, the man who has accused her female renters of being prostitutes, or a stranger she meets as he is leaving the rental condo building?







Angel has a job to do—leave heaven and fix Clark Lannigan’s life, teaching him to live again, and to love. But how can she succeed when Clark is living a life surrounded by so much guilt that he’s too afraid to let go.


Then there’s Angel Rule 750.2, paragraph A, no canoodling with the client. Oops she’s broken that, and now she’s fallen in love with him. So what does an angel do?

She sets him ten tasks, but neither of them want to obey rule number ten….NO KISSING

“To Kiss An Angel is a cute, humorous holiday treat. Filled with sass and wit, you will enjoy Clark and Angel’s story. This is a great gift for yourself or a friend anytime of the year you would like a bit of sweet treat.” ~ Matilda, Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More



It’s the first day of December, snow is in the air and Gracie Singleton Saylor is shopping for a Christmas tree, when she runs smack into Merett Bradmoore, her High School hero and his seven-year-old daughter.

Seeing he’s not the happy-go-lucky guy he used to be, she’s determined to restore the gift of optimism he gave her fifteen years ago. But can she return his hope without losing her own?

Enter the zoning board, an old enemy and the personal problems of Gracie’s two sister, Hope and Faith. Mix in a mischievous cat named Spook, a huge furry mutt named Dumbell, and a spirit named Mirabelle who’s looking for her lost love, and you wonder – can holiday magic triumph?






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Thursday, November 21, 2019

The first National Thanksgiving, York, PA, by Diane Scott Lewis



Although Thanksgiving can be traced back to 1621 at Plymouth Colony in Massachusetts, I was surprised to find that the first "Official" celebration was held in York, Pennsylvania in 1777.  The British had captured Philadelphia, pushing the Continental Congress out of that city. The Patriots fled west to York, a sleepy farm town populated mostly by Germans.

When the rebel General Gates defeated the British at Saratoga, the tide turned, and the exiles held a celebration, passing a resolution for a feast to be held, to honor the victory, on Dec. 18th. Hardly the date we use today. It's doubtful they had turkey or stuffing, and with limited resources, even enjoyed a hearty meal. But it showed the new government's growing strength in this establishment of the holiday.

The gathering was somber, with prayers of thanks, and might have included German (Pennsylvania Dutch) dishes. If they were fortunate, they ate Schnitz un Knepp: apple dumplings. Spaetzle: noodles and dumplings. Or Gumbis: a casserole of meat, onions, and dried fruit.


My novel, Her Vanquished Land, is set in Pennsylvania during the American Revolution, told from a different perspective. Rowena has little time to celebrate Thanksgiving as the rebels close in to plunder her home and life. Her family are Loyalists, the people who thought it was insane to fight for independence; the people who stayed loyal to England and the King. They believed they were on the right side. Tarred and Feathered, even hanged, they kept their loyalty and as a result were chased from the new United States. Many settled in Canada.

I threw in a thwarted love story as well, a Welshman who spies for the British, who captures Rowena's hoydenish heart. However, he harbors his own secrets and may have no need for her confused (to her) affection. Will they survive the war and find love?

The Loyalist side of our American history is seldom told, but it is an interesting part of the development of North America.

 
To purchase from Amazon
 
For more information on me and my books, visit my website: Diane Scott Lewis
 
Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for an on-line publisher, and wrote book reviews for the Historical Novel Society. She lives with her husband and one naughty puppy in Western Pennsylvania.
 

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

A Little History About the Pilgrims and Celebrating the First Thanksgiving on Cape Cod

Dangerous Sanctuary by J.Q. Rose
Cozy mystery



Hello and welcome to the Books We Love Insiders Blog.

Thanksgiving Day is Thursday, November 28 in the USA. The First Thanksgiving was in 1621 when the Pilgrims invited the Wampanoag people to a feast to celebrate the harvest with them. The Pilgrims and their guests came together to enjoy the bounty of their hard work, but most important of all they wanted to express their gratitude and to thank God for the good things in their lives.
The Pilgrims said Thank You!
The idea of a day of Thanksgiving boggles the mind when we realize the trauma and turmoil the Pilgrims went through that first year struggling to develop a colony in the New World. Remember these Pilgrims attempted to make the voyage across the ocean three times in the Mayflower and the Speedwell sailing vessels. 

Making the final decision the Speedwell was unfit for the ocean voyage, they turned back after 300 miles on the ocean and a wasted month and a half on that trip. They unloaded the cargo from the Speedwell and loaded it onto the crowded Mayflower. Many of the passengers left the adventure too tired or sick to start out again.


The Mast of a Sailing Ship
Photo courtesy of Pixabay

On September 6, 1620, 102 souls set sail from England. They endured hunger, sickness, death, and frightening storms on an open sea. They couldn't land where they had planned because of strong storms battering them. Rather than sail down the Hudson River to build their homes, they sighted the shores of Cape Cod on November 9. After exploring the area,  they decided to make Plymouth their home. Imagine trying to build a colony in that cold weather. Only half of the Pilgrims survived the winter. 

Wonders of wonders, after all this suffering and loss, they gave us the greatest gift, Thanksgiving! The Pilgrims gave thanks for their blessings on that autumn day in 1621. Their First Thanksgiving is the lesson for understanding that even with so many problems and sadness, it is still possible to say "thank you" no matter the circumstances.

In these difficult times throughout the world, we often dwell on all the bad things that are happening. Problems swirl around us every day making it difficult to take time to reflect and find something good to be thankful for. But sometimes the smallest things are actually the biggest things.


How about
  • a child's smile
  • a hearty laugh at a friend's silly joke
  •  a sunny day
  • a warm cup of coffee or cocoa after coming in from the cold weather
  • a hug?
* * *
Books We Love Insider Blog

To learn what was on the table for the First Thanksgiving, click here to read my blog post at the Books We Love Insiders Blog.

Autumn Greetings from J.Q. Rose
Click here to connect online with J.Q. at the Focused on Story Blog

Wishing YOU and yours a Happy Thanksgiving!



Tuesday, November 19, 2019

Books We Love Insider Blog: The Dreaded Black (Socks) Friday

Books We Love Insider Blog: The Dreaded Black (Socks) Friday: More Fun Than Shopping on "Black Friday!" One Thanksgiving, not too long ago but far, far away from home, I realized I forgot...

The Dreaded Black (Socks) Friday

More Fun Than Shopping on "Black Friday!"
One Thanksgiving, not too long ago but far, far away from home, I realized I forgot to pack socks. A family member suggested I could borrow socks. Well, no. Thanks, anyway, but, um, no.

Socks are important. They're a crucial component of life. I mean, really, without socks, society would break down into violence. We'd be nothing more than savages without socks.

So, I ventured out, looking for socks on Thanksgiving night, the worst possible time to go sock shopping. Because "Black Friday" has now turned into "Deep, Dark, Blacker Then Black Full-On Week Friday," a week long orgy of no holds barred, sometimes violent, shopping free-for-alls.

At Walmart, folks scrabbled, pushed, screamed and raced toward what they perceived as good deals. The sock aisle was relatively barren, yet the over-all ambience of the store was one of menace. Agonized howls rang out through the aisles--not children, but older folks who should know better. Lines were longer than the wait at the driver's license bureau. Menacing glares were exchanged over the last video game available. Eyes were void of hope, yet full of greed. Sam Walton won this round.
It got me thinking about the true meaning of Thanksgiving. It's an American holiday based on how the Pilgrims gave thanks to the Native-Americans for basically saving their lives. And, of course, we know how well that turned out for the Native-Americans. Greeting card companies and big business want us to forget that little tid-bit. From the depths of a wiped out culture rose a Hallmark moment. Thanksgiving now means familial togetherness and love. We get together with our families for one day, get it all over in one fell swoop and move on with our lives.

Yet...it's come around again. Thanks to Corporate America, Thanksgiving's returned to its roots. Once again, it's about violence and survival of the fittest. Weak shoppers will be trammeled over and forgotten. Those with the strongest stamina, pocketbooks and pepper-spray will persevere, no matter who has squatter rights.

I did come away from my Black Friday experience with socks. It took a helluva' long time. While my feet stink less, I feel like a pawn in the Big Plan Of Things. Next Thanksgiving to protest, I'm going to defiantly wear dirty socks. Join me if you will.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Speaking of disorganized chaos, Boundless Book Reviews calls Murder by Massage: "Chaotic, fun and hilarious." It's book #2 in the ongoing Zach and Zora comical mystery series. Collect 'em all!
Avoid those holiday shopping lines, by clicking!

Monday, November 18, 2019

When it's Time by Nancy M Bell


To learn more about Nancy's work click on the cover above.


One of the hardest things of having animals in your life is when it's time to say goodbye. In a perfect world our friends would lay down one day and move over the Rainbow Bridge of their own accord. In reality, this seldom happens. Old age, sickness, accidents often force us to make decisions we'd really rather not. November 8th was just such a day. Max, the horse pictured above, has been with me for the last 8 years. He came to me lame with navicular, which we have managed with shoeing and anti inflammatories. We kept him blanketed far more often than the rest of the horses as the cold and wet tightened his muscles up. The horses were in the barn overnight often solely because it was better for Max, who would lie down in the deep bedding when he wouldn't if left outside.
It became painfully obvious last July that our maintenance measures just weren't enough anymore. I called Moore and Company Veterinary and had x rays done of his left forefoot. They showed what I feared, his navicular bone, which is small crescent moon shaped bone located beneath the bulbs of the heel and just a bit above coffin where the deep flexor tendon runs over it, was mostly disintegrated and tendon was frayed. In some less severe cases a vet can perform a nervectomy which basically removes all feeling in the foot. However, Max was a poor candidate for this due to his advanced age of 25 years and the degree of damage in his foot.
After much discussion with two Board Licensed Equine Veterinary surgeons the decision was made to give Max the summer and manage his pain with medicine. It is only a short term solution at this point as the amount of medicine needed to mitigate the condition is also detrimental to his system.

For those of you not horsey, see the image below to give you an idea of the structure of a horse's lower leg and hoof. Photo credit Mid-South Horse Review


As fall rolled around I was faced with the fact I needed to make a decision that was in Max's best interest. Even though my head knew the facts and that this was the best possible outcome, my heart didn't want to listen.
I planned the day to be as stressfree as possible. The vet came to the farm, I called Just Passing which is a company that deals entirely with the respectful removal of dead horses. The only other option to me was to call Alberta Processors which is a company the will come and pick up dead livestock where the body is scooped up and dumped into the back of a high sided truck bed along with dead cows, pigs and heaven only knows what else. Just Passing moves the body as carefully as possible and it goes into a clean stock trailer bedded with clean shavings. I held Max while they sedated him slightly, and then the vet infused the Euthanol. I stroked Max's face and he gave two deep breaths and gracefully and slowly laid down. He was gone before his head lay on the grass. The vet confirmed he was on his way to the Rainbow Bridge and we waited a full fifteen minutes. Emily, his pasture mate of 8 years stood at the fence the whole time whinnying to him, she watched while he went down and then was put in the trailer. Once the trailer left she whinnied twice more and then wandered off. She was depressed for a few days and wanted more attention than usual. Horses grieve in their own way, this has been documented in wild horse herds. When a herd member dies the herd will form a circle around the fallen member and stand that way for long time. Then at some hidden signal they will move off together after touching the dead horse with their noses, each in turn.

I hate having to make the decision to steal the light from any animals eyes, but often it is the kindest thing we can do for them. I would never let any of my animals transition without me being there unless it was physically impossible. It is never a nice thing, but it is the final gift we can give them, to be there for them because they trust us and aren't afraid of strange surroundings or humans. I fight with the feeling that I'm betraying that trust each time. My head over rules my heart with the knowledge that Max was getting more and more unable to move around and I didn't want to come out one day and find him down and unable to get up, or with a broken leg or a catastrophically blown tendon. All things I discussed with the bet.

It sucks when it's time. There is another star in the sky now, shining from the Rainbow Bridge where Max will be waiting for me along with all my other loved creatures when it's my time.

Sorry to be so depressing, writing about things that touch us deeply is cathartic and it is a tribute to those we have lost.

Be well, be happy.

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Wanderings - Janet Lane Walters #BWLAuthor , #MFRWAuthor #Writing #Reviews


Forgotten Dreams (Moonchild Book 5)

Learning new things can be a real hard and interesting challenge. Lately I’ve been trying to master Book Bub. I’m not sure I have but lately I’ve received a number of new followers. I invested a little bit of money and have new followers every day. I’m going ot do the same for December, I think. I keep trying to recommend books but haven’t done well at that. The problem is time. I have several posts saved to do different things there. I’m not sure what will come of this.

I would rather be writing. I even have a tee shirt that says that and I wear it frequently, especially when something takes me away from my chair and clipboard. As it’s almost Thanksgiving, I will say I’m thankful for having a great publisher and a lot of co-writers whose books I enjoy. There’s also the aide who comes in five morings a week to get my invalid husband ready for be. There’smy granddaughter who helps around the house, my six other grandchildren who I don’t see as often as I would like. My children are part of this.

I’ve also been doing some reviews. They are not wonderful but I never give lower than a four. I think I’ve done what I’ve read for October  and September. I’m working on November as I’ve been reading them.

Now if I could just master all the promotional things out there, I would be pleased.

I’m also thankful for Katherine Miller who starred in my first ebook. Hard to believe that was about 20 years ago.

Murder and Mint Tea (Mrs. Miller Mysteries Book 1)

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