Gillian Bagwell's Blog: www.theroyalmiracle.blogspot.com, page 6

Czech rights sold!

My brilliant foreign rights agent Taryn Fagerness has just sold the Czech language rights to The Darling Strumpet!  Nell's getting very popular in Eastern Europe.  Taryn has also sold the Polish and Hungarian rights, in addition to Turkish.  And of course the UK rights, which encompasses Commonwealth countries such as Australia.  And here's the cover of the Hungarian edition...

The Darling Strumpet in San Diego!

Last weekend I attended the Historical Novel Society conference, held this time in San Diego.  I greatly enjoyed participating in the panel on making characters believable, moderating the panel on maritime history, and signing books on Saturday afternoon, as well, of course, the opportunity to meet so many authors, bloggers, and other interesting types.

One of the highlights for me, however (though I admit I was nervous!) was that my heroine Diana Gabaldon, who was once again organizing the Saturday Night Sex Scenes readings, not only chose the Nell-Rochester scene as the finale, but also read the narration herself!  I was also honored to have the enormously talented C.C. (Chris) Humphreys reading the part of the Earl of Rochester.  Actually, it was his idea for us to do it as a scene!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrB5J_Lk27g

The Darling Strumpet in the UK

The British edition of "The Darling Strumpet" will be released on August 4! Look at my beautiful cover!

Polish rights!

I'm happy to say that my brilliant foreign rights agent Taryn Fagerness has sold Polish rights to "The Darling Strumpet," in addition to the previously sold British, Turkish, and Hungarian rights!

The Events of December 1660

This is the eighth in a series of articles chronicling the events from May 1660 through January 1661, commemorating the 350th anniversary of the Restoration of the English monarchy, the reopening of the playhouses, and the first appearance of an actress on the English stage. You can find links to the other articles on my website, gillianbagwell.com.

DECEMBER 1660
December 1660 was the seventh full month of Charles II's reign after he had ridden into London on May 29, his thirtieth birthday, to reclaim his throne after years of exile. The enormous task of reestablishing the monarchy and its new government continued.

Parliament was still busy, trying to wrap up business before Christmas. Seven new bishops were consecrated in Westminster Abbey on December 2, and a royal commission composed of some of the king's most eminent ministers was formed to address the problem of land that had changed hands during interregnum.

Dealing with those who had been responsible for the trial and execution of Charles I was still front and center. A man named Tench, who had built the scaffold on which the king was executed, was arrested. After an ugly series of executions in October, the king had stayed the sentences of the remaining regicides. They still sat in prison, their lives in the balance, and Parliament set up a committee to consider their fate. Even those who were dead were not safe from retribution. On Friday, December 7 the Commons passed a resolution "that the carcasses of Oliver Cromwell, Henry Ireton, John Bradshaw, and Thomas Pride, whether buried in Westminster Abbey or elsewhere, be with all expedition taken up, and drawn upon a hurdle to Tyburn, and there hanged up in their coffins for some time, and after that buried under the said gallows." On Monday, December 10 the Lords agreed it should be so.

Paying off the crews of the navy's ships was another ongoing headache. As secretary of the Navy Board, the temperamental diarist Samuel Pepys was very much involved in this work. But he began the month by beating his maid. "Observing some things to be laid up not as they should be by the girl, I took up a broom and basted her till she cried extremely, which made me vexed, but before I went out I left her appeased."

Pepys then turned his attention to "the growing charge of the fleet." On December 3 he met with his colleague Sir George Carteret, who proposed paying the sailors half what they were owed, and giving them tickets vouching that they would be paid the other half in three months. The next day they met with the Duke of York, who was also the Lord Admiral, who approved "paying them in hand one moiety and the other four months hence" – the poor sailors were getting a worse deal each day - so Pepys and Carteret drew up the plan to be presented to Parliament.

On December 6, Pepys spent a pleasant evening at an alehouse near Parliament Stairs with several companions, "among the rest one Mr. Pierce, an army man, who did make us the best sport for songs and stories in a Scotch tone (which he do very well) that ever I heard in my life. I never knew so good a companion in all my observation. From thence to the bridge by water, it being a most pleasant moonshine night, with a waterman who did tell such a company of bawdy stories, how once he carried a lady from Putney in such a night as this, and she bade him lie down by her, which he did, and did give her content, and a great deal more roguery."

On December 9 Pepys sadly recorded that the ship Assurance at Woolwich "was by a gust of wind sunk down to the bottom. Twenty men drowned … and I am sent to the Duke of Yorke to tell him." The Duke went to inspect the wreck the next day, and on December 11, "though the weather was very bad and the wind high," Pepys and his wife, along with Lady Batten and her maid "did go by our barge to Woolwich (my Lady being very fearfull) where we found both Sir Williams and much other company, expecting the weather to be better, that they might go about weighing up the Assurance, which lies there (poor ship, that I have been twice merry in, in Captn. Holland's time,) under water, only the upper deck may be seen and the masts. Captain Stoakes is very melancholy, and being in search for some clothes and money of his, which he says he hath lost out of his cabin."

The saga of the Duke of York and Anne Hyde was winding down. On Sunday, December 9 their son James was christened at Worcester House, the home of his grandfather Edward Hyde, with the king, Prince Rupert, and the Duchess of Albemarle serving as godparents. Pepys was behind on the news, as on December 10 he wrote "it is expected that the Duke will marry the Lord Chancellor's daughter at last which is likely to be the ruin of Mr. Davis and my Lord Barkley, who have carried themselves so high against the Chancellor; Sir Chas. Barkley swearing that he and others had lain with her often, which all believe to be a lie." On December 16 Pepys heard "that all is agreed and he will marry her. But I know not how true yet."

The King's Company was drawing crowds at their new theatre, playing The Alchemist, Claricilla, A King and No King, Rollo Duke of Normandy, and repeats of The Silent Woman. On December 5 Pepys wrote "after dinner I went to the new Theatre and there I saw 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' acted, the humours of the country gentleman and the French doctor very well done, but the rest but very poorly, and Sir J. Falstaffe as bad as any."

On December 8, a momentous event in theatre history took place when an actress, likely Anne Marshall, played Desdemona in Othello (The Moore of Venice). It was the first time that a woman had woman had appeared on an English stage, and the occasion was marked by a special prologue.
On December 12, William D'Avenant at the rival Duke's Company was granted a warrant to present The Tempest, Measure for Measure, Much Ado About Nothing, Romeo and Juliet, Twelfth Night, The Life of King Henry the Eighth, King Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet, The Sophy, and The Duchess of Malfi, as well as his own plays. He also got exclusive rights for two months to The Mad Lover, The Mayde in the Mill, The Spanish Curate, The Loyall Subject, Rule a Wife and Have a Wife, and Pericles, Prince of Tyre. It is interesting with modern perspective to note that when D'Avenant and Killigrew divided up the rights to Shakespeare's plays, D'Avenenant was considered to have gotten the short end of the stick.

On December 13, diarist Elias Ashmole recorded that "The king going to a play at the new Theatre this afternoon …the leathers whereby the coach hung broke and so the coach fell from the wheels … overturned over against the new Exchange but (blessed be God) had no hurt."

There was another conspiracy against the king's life. On Sunday, December 16, Pepys went "in the morning to church, and then dined at home. In the afternoon I to White Hall, where I was surprised with the news of a plot against the King's person and my Lord Monk's; and that since last night there are about forty taken up on suspicion." The king took part in examining the accused, but nothing much seems to have come of the episode.

Parliament was to have been dissolved on December 20, but there was much business remaining, so it was decided they would adjourn on December 23, meet again after Christmas, and the dissolution would take place on December 29. The members must have been getting restless, as on December 14, Serjeant Maynard moved that the Speaker should reprove anyone he observed talking, whispering, or reading a paper. A bill for setting up a general letter office was read for the third time. There was a proviso allowing Cambridge and Oxford to continue to carry their own letters, and after fierce argument as to which should be named first, the Commons finally settled on referring to "both universities." Edward Hyde had been made chancellor of Oxford, succeeding Cromwell.

Parliament settled a regular income on the king, approved £70,000 for the expenses of the coronation, including the provision of new crown jewels, and awarded gifts of £1000 each to two people who had risked their lives to help Charles escape after the Battle of Worcester in 1651 – Jane Lane, who had disguised Charles as her manservant and traveled with him for ten perilous days, and Francis Wyndham, who had hidden them at Trent.

In Seething Lane, Samuel Pepys was cracking the whip to get his home improvements done. On December 13 he spent "All the day long looking upon my workmen who this day began to paint my parlour," and did the same on December 14 and 15. On December 17 he once more spent "all day looking after my workmen…. This day my parlour is gilded, which do please me well." Still, the next day two days he was he "looking after my workmen." On December 20 he wrote, "All day at home with my workmen, that I may get all done before Christmas."

But his entry continued with more serious news. "This day I hear that the Princess Royal has the small pox." On December 21, Pepys heard "how dangerously ill the Princess Royal is and that this morning she was said to be dead." It was only a little more than two months since the king's youngest brother, the Duke of Gloucester, had died of smallpox, and everyone recognized the graveness of the Princess Mary's illness. The king's sister made her will, commended her son William of Orange to the care of the king, and apologized for her treatment of Anne Hyde.
On December 21, diarist John Evelyn wrote "The Marriage of the Chancellor's Daughter being now newly owned, I went to see her … she now being at her fathers, at Worcester house in the Strand, we all kissed her hand, as did also my Lord Chamberlaine …and Countesse of Northumberland: This was a strange change, can it succeed well!" He spent the evening at St. James's Palace, where he heard that the King's youngest sister, Minette, had been moved there to be out of harm's way.
By December 23, Mary seemed better. But on December 24, when Pepys was happily "with the painters till 10 at night … and my house was made ready against to-morrow being Christmas day," he concluded his entry, "This day the Princess Royal died at Whitehall."

As Evelyn recorded, her death "wholly altered the face and gallantry of the whole court." The stunned King secluded himself. Queen Henrietta Maria, devastated at the loss of another child, swore that staying in England would end her days, and made plans to return to France on January 2. On Christmas Day, Evelyn heard a sermon at Westminster Abbey "condoling the breach made in the publique joy, by the lamented death of the Princesse."

It was a sad day for the royal family and for the court, but in general, 1660 saw a happier Christmas in England than for many years. Under Cromwell, the day had been one of fasting and atonement, but now the old festivities were revived. Pepys was "In the morning very much pleased to see my house once more clear of workmen and to be clean, and indeed it is so, far better than it was that I do not repent of my trouble that I have been at," and he had guests to dinner "to a good shoulder of mutton and a chicken."

On the day after Christmas, Pepys dined at White Hall with Lady Sandwich, the wife of his patron, "who at table did tell me how much fault was laid upon Dr. Frazer and the rest of the Doctors, for the death of the Princess!"

Mary's funeral was held on Saturday, December 29 at Westminster Abbey. Her brother the Duke of York walked behind the coffin, and the procession passed through the ranks of the Coldstream Guards, one of only three regiments remaining after the steady disbanding of the army.

On the same day as Mary's funeral, King Charles came out of his seclusion to dissolve the Convention Parliament. The work of establishing his government was done, and there would be elections for a new parliament in the new year.

Pepys had begun his famous diary on the first day of 1660. It had proved to be a productive and golden year for him, and on December 31 he treated himself with a little entertainment. After spending the morning at his office, "In Paul's Church-yard I bought the play of 'Henry the Fourth,' and so went to the new Theatre … and saw it acted; but my expectation being too great, it did not please me, as otherwise I believe it would; and my having a book, I believe did spoil it a little."

Plane tree and old shops on Wood Street at Cheapside

I learned today of the blog georgianlondon.com, which also has a page on Facebook. One of her posts was about two little buildings on Cheapside at the corner of Wood Street, which reminded me of Peter Ackroyd's comments on pp. 653-654 of London: the Biography about those buildings and the plane tree next to them.

"Consider the plane tree at the corner of Wood Street and Cheapside. No one knows how long it has existed on that spot – once the old churchyard of St. Peter's, which was destroyed during the Great Fire of 1666 – but in extant documents it is termed 'ancient,' and for centuries it has been a familiar presence. In 1799, for example,the sight of this tree inspired Wordsworth to compose a poem in which the natural world breaks through Cheapside in visionary splendour:

At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,
Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years…

…

The tree conjures up images of its distant predecessors. Everything about this corner of Wood Street suggests continuity. Even its name is connected with the tree; wood was indeed once sold here, but the tree itself is protected and can never be cut down. In the spring of 1850 rooks came to rest in its branches, re-establishing the ancient association between London and those dark birds. The London plane flourishes in the smoke and dust of London, and the tree at the corner of Wood Street has become an emblem of the city itself. It has now reached a height of approximately seventy feet, and is still thriving.

Beneath it nestle the small shops which have been an aspect of this corner for almost six hundred years. In 1401 a shop known as the Long Shop was first built here against the churchyard wall, and others followed; after the Fire they were rebuilt in 1687. The site is only a few feet in depth, and each small shop still consists of a single storey above and a box-front below. The trades which have passed through them were various – silver-sellers, wig-makers, law stationers, pickle- and sauce-sellers, fruiterers – all of them reflecting the commercial life of the capital."

The Darling Strumpet Hits the Streets!

Wow! I discovered today through a Google alert (wonderful things!) that The Darling Strumpet is now available for pre-order on Amazon and Amazon UK. Its publication date is Jan. 4, 2011....

Also, the first two of the series of monthly articles I'm writing about the events in the corresponding months of 1660 are now up.

The inspiration for the series is that I had hoped that Darling Strumpet would be published this year to take advantage of the fact that 2010 is the 350th anniversary of the Restoration of Charles II, the reopening of the theatres that had been closed under Cromwell, and the first appearance of an actress on an English stage. Then I realized that it didn't matter - 1660 was a phenomenally eventful and important year, and I could write an article each month from May, the month in which Charles returned to London from his long exile, until January, when the book will be published. A different blog or website will host each article.

The May host is Hoydens and Firebrands:
http://hoydensandfirebrands.blogspot....

The June host is Reading the Past:
http://readingthepast.blogspot.com/20...

The July host will be Raucous Royals:
http://raucousroyals.com

The Darling Turkish Strumpet

I'm thrilled to say that Taryn Fagerness, my foreign rights agent, has sold TURKISH rights to The Darling Strumpet! Somehow Turkey seems like a culture vastly different than Nell's England. But my father has just sent me a book called Aziyade by Pierre Loti, which he says has fascinated the Turks for many years. He visited Istanbul last year, and stayed at a hotel called Aziyade, on a street called Piyerloti - a corruption of the author's name! I haven't read the book yet, but the title character apparently has many points of similarity with Nell, and is based on a young woman with whom the author -- actually a 19th century French naval officer named Julian Viaud -- fell in love! I'll have to read it!

Happy Birthday, Nell!

Nell would have been 360 today. She was born on February 2, 1650, according to a horoscope prepared for her during her life, though for some reason her place of birth wasn't given - maybe because she didn't know. It was likely London, though it might also have been Oxford, and there have also been claims for Herefordshire.

February 2 is Candlemas, a day rich in tradition, as reflected by the excerpts below from Wikipedia. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Presenta...)

"Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the bays and mistletoe;
Down with the holly, ivy, all,
Wherewith ye dress'd the Christmas Hall"
— Robert Herrick (1591–1674), "Ceremony upon Candlemas Eve"

As the poem by Robert Herrick records, the eve of Candlemas was the day on which Christmas decorations of greenery were removed from people's homes; for traces of berries, holly and so forth will bring death among the congregation before another year is out.

Another tradition holds that anyone who hears funeral bells tolling on Candlemas will soon hear of the death of a close friend or relative; each toll of the bell represents a day that will pass before the unfortunate news is learned.[

Traditionally the Western term "Candlemas" (or Candle Mass) referred to the practice whereby a priest on 2 February blessed beeswax candles for use throughout the year, some of which were distributed to the faithful for use in the home.

Candlemas occurs 40 days after Christmas, and its religious signifance relates to The Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple, among the most ancient feasts of the Christian Church, which commemorates an event described in the Gospel of Luke 2:22–40.

According to the gospel, Mary and Joseph took the baby Jesus to the Temple in Jerusalem forty days after his birth to complete Mary's ritual purification after childbirth, and to perform the redemption of the firstborn, in obedience to the Law of Moses (Leviticus 12, Exodus 13:12-15, etc.).

Upon bringing Jesus into the temple, they encountered Simeon the Righteous. The Gospel records that Simeon had been promised that "he should not see death before he had seen the Messiah of the Lord." (Luke 2:26) Simeon prayed the prayer that would become known as the Nunc Dimittis, or Canticle of Simeon, which prophesied the redemption of the world by Jesus:

"Lord, now you are letting your servant go in peace, just as you said. 30 I have seen with my own eyes the one you have sent to save people. 31 You have made this way for all peoples to be saved. 32 He is a light which will shine for those who do not know God. He is the one who will bring praise to your people Israel." (Luke 2:29-32).

In Scotland, until a change in the law in 1991, and in much of northern England until the 18th century, Candlemas was one of the traditional quarter days when quarterly rents were due for payment, as well as the day or term for various other business transactions, including the hiring of servants.

In the United Kingdom, good weather at Candlemas is taken to indicate severe winter weather later: "If Candlemas Day is clear and bright, / winter will have another bite. / If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain, / winter is gone and will not come again."[9]. It is also alleged to be the date that bears emerge from hibernation to inspect the weather as well as wolves, who if they choose to return to their lairs on this day is interpreted as meaning severe weather will continue for another forty days at least.[citation needed] The same is true in Italy, where it is called Candelora.

It seems this belief is the likely source of the American tradition of Groundhog Day.

The earliest American reference to Groundhog Day can be found at the Pennsylvania Dutch Folklore Center at Franklin and Marshall College:

4 February 1841 — from Morgantown, Berks County (Pennsylvania) storekeeper James Morris' diary …"Last Tuesday, the 2nd, was Candlemas day, the day on which, according to the Germans, the Groundhog peeps out of his winter quarters and if he sees his shadow he pops back for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate." [1]

Pepys' Diary on the Web and Pepys Talks at St. Olave's

I've always enjoyed reading Samuel Pepys's diary, which he kept consistently from Jan. 1 1660 until 1669. It's a great window on everyday life in London, beginning when the first fevered rumors of the Restoration of the King were beginning, and continuing through some very tumultuous years during which Nell Gwynn was also around. She and Pepys knew each other, and he's a character in my book, so I was pleased to discover pepysdiary.com, a website run by Phil Gyford, who is posting the diary entries day by day, with annotations and other useful information.

It was from this site that I learned of some talks being given at St. Olave's Hart Street, the church Pepys attended, which was right across the street from his home and the navy office on Seething Lane, and last summer when I was in London researching The Darling Strumpet, I attended one of the events. It was quite enjoyable - especially the vicar giving us an up-close view of Pepys's own prayer book - and I was pleased to learn that there will be another series of talks this year. Certainly worth attending if you're in London!

This is what is posted on the Pepys site:

More Pepys talks at St Olave's
Samuel Pepys' local church near the Tower of London, St Olave's, has been hosting talks about their famous former parishioner for some time and are about to launch a new series to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the start of the diary.

Each talk will look at a month's worth of the diary from 1660. You can download a flyer from this page, but here's the basic information:

•Monday 18 January: The Diary Begins
•Monday 1 February: Pepys and January 1660
•Monday 1 March: Pepys and February 1660
•Monday 12 April: Pepys and March 1660
•Monday 10 May: Pepys and April 1660
•Monday 7 June: Pepys and May 1660
•Monday 5 July: Pepys and June/July 1660
•Monday 29 November: Pepys and the Royal Society
Food is served from 6.15pm and the events start at 6.45pm. £15 on the door or contact Phil Manning (admin.stolave@me.com, or 020 7488 4318). The address is St Olave Church, Hart Street, London EC3R 7NB.