Annette Ranald's Blog: Annette's History Reads

BOOK REVIEW: Georgiana, Duchess of Devonishire, by Amanada Foreman

Nearly two centuries before Lady Diana Spencer captured the attention of the media of her day, another Spencer woman made waves and headlines in London. Georgiana was the daughter of John, 1st Earl Spencer, and his wife Georgiana Poyntz. Young Georgiana was beautiful, wealthy and well-connected and she needed a marriage to enhance her status and that of her family. She was married to the wealthiest man in England, William Cavendish, later 5th Duke of Devonshire, and the pattern for beautiful Spencer women in unhappy marriages played out on the public stage for the first time. Georgiana had everything she could wish for, money, clothes, jewels, an unshakeable place in Society. But her husband was in love with another woman and, in fact, that woman lived with them in an uncomfortable ménage a trois. Georgiana also consoled herself with a few casual relationships, but knew that, if she were discovered, social ruin would follow. Indeed, she nearly brought herself to ruin several times with poor choices in men, and an addiction to gambling. A prominent hostess and socialite, her home at Devonshire House was the social hub of the Tory Party for many years. She was also an author in her own right.

Foreman captures this world for us in her book. The manners, ways and who's who of Regency society has always been a complicated subject to modern readers, but she sets Georgiana in her context. Everything from the strange Devonshire family's peculiar way of speaking, labeled the Devonshire House drawl, to the networks in which Georgiana manipulated society and politics, and her own personal life. Nobody knows for sure whether Diana consciously followed her great-grandmother's model or not, but the similarities are too palpable to ignore. Foreman touches on these without being too heavy-handed. If you are looking for more information about Diana, but are tired of the same old story, view her story again against the backdrop of her great-grandmother's life and you'll gain a fresh perspective.Georgiana: Duchess of Devonshire

BOOK REVIEW: Paul Boller: Presidential Wives: An Anecdotal History

Presidential Wives: An Anecdotal History


Some First Ladies, like Mary Todd Lincoln, Jacqueline Kennedy, Eleanor Roosevelt or Hilary Rodham Clinton, have become as famous as their husbands and are the subjects of numerous biographies. Others, such as Rachel Jackson, Martha Jefferson, or Jane Pierce, exist only in the framework of their husbands' lives. The happy medium is to find a book that treats the lives of all of these women in a handy reference. There are many books that run down the lives of the First Ladies in cursory detail, but Paul Boller manages to say a lot about each woman in a few short pages of space.

Presidential Wives is a handy reference, even if it doesn't go beyond Hilary Clinton and leaves out Laura Bush and Michelle Obama. Whether you're just curious about a particular First Lady but don't want to read a full biography, or you're a teacher, blogger or someone else who needs a handy desk reference, this book fits the bill. Even if you can only get a used paperback, it's worth it.

Ambrose Bierce: Irony, darkness, and an unknown end

Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914) was an American author, journalist and social critic. He's famous for his tales that often have a tragic, ironic or sardonic ending. Bierce was born in Ohio, the tenth child of a family of thirteen kids whose names all started with A. His family was poor but did provide for his education. Like many young men of that time, he saw service in the Civil War, and some of his stories reflect his experiences.

One of these stories is Incident at Owl Creek Bridge. The scene opens as a Confederate straggler and spy is about to be hanged from the side of a bridge. From there, the narrative goes into the man's thoughts as he life and last sensations flash before his eyes. Just as he's fantasizing about a miraculous escape, his neck snaps and he dies.

After the War, Bierce moved to San Francisco, where he became a freelance writer. His stories become progressively more dark. One such example is The Monk and the Hangman's Daughter. Why hanging is a common theme here, I have no idea. The book opens with the scene of a hangman's daughter, Benedicta, encountering a young Franciscan monk, incidentally named Ambrosius. Ambrosius develops a passion for Benedicta, who is also seeing the son of a local owner of a salt mine. Ambrosius struggles with his passions for Benedicta, not realizing that while she appreciates his kindness toward her, does not feel the same way about him. In the end, when he discovers that she loves the other man, he kills her and is himself hanged.

Bierce's biting satire made him many enemies in his career. When two railroad companies schemed with a Congressman to avoid repaying a Government loan, newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst dispatched Bierce to investigate the matter and call out those responsible. Bierce was confronted by the Congressman and bluntly asked to name his price. Bierce published his reply, that his price was 130 million dollars and that, if he were not in D.C. to accept the bribe, the money could be handed over to the Secretary of the Treasury, thus blowing the scheme out of the water. Bierce's dark poetry also got him into trouble. In 1900, then Governor William Goebel of Kentucky was assassinated. Bierce wrote a poem commemorating the event but, in 1901 when President William McKinley was shot, people took the poem as being a foreshadowing of the event. A line in the poem about a bullet piercing McKinley's breast and stretching him upon his bier was seen by some as Hearst's call for McKinely's assassination. Years later, when Hearst himself would run for President, political opponents used this poem against him, dashing his hopes. Hearst never revealed the Bierce had written the poem, nor did he fire him for doing so.

Ambrose Bierce's end was as enigmatic as his writing. In 1913, he left for Mexico to either cover, or maybe participate in, the Mexican Revolution, and disappeared without a trace.



Works of Ambrose Bierce

BOOK REVIEW: Los Tucsonense: The Mexican Community in Tucson, 1854-1941.

Los Tucsonenses: The Mexican Community in Tucson, 1854-1941
This is a book I won years ago in an Phi Alpha Theta student essay competition. I'll give the story of how I won the book, and then I'll give my review. Hint: if you're from Arizona or like Linda Ronstadt (Guilty!) then you'll like the book, but more on that in a minute.

I love history so much that I decided on a novel approach to selecting my classes in college. I took as many of my prerequisites as I could for my first two and half years, so could save the last few semesters for pure history. I'd go from English history, to European, to Southwest, to Spanish history, all in one day. The kid was in the candy store, but eventually the time came to stop cramming in history and try to graduate. At that time I learned that a final senior paper was due. I had no idea. The requirement was written down in a manual or on a memo somewhere but I'm not really a directions reader, so I discovered it as I was trying to get everything in place to graduate in spring of '92. Then, I found out about the senior paper requirement and I decided the time was ripe for a little revenge.

I did my paper on the grossest subject I could think of, and since I've always wanted to be a novelist, I knew I could make the paper descriptive as well as factual. So, I wrote about the aftermath of the Black Death in Europe, about 1348, bringing in the Danse Macare Phenomenon and the Flagellants. Descriptions of rats that would freak out Indiana Jones mingled with narratives that would daunt the most zealous Penitente. I wasn't going for any awards, I really didn't even care what grade I got so long as I passed. My aim was solely to create a gross paper.

To this day I have no idea if any members on the history committee thought my paper was gross, but on the basis of it, I was nominated to Phi Alpha Theta, the History Honor Society, invited to submit my paper to the local chapter journal, and invited to the local and regional paper competitions, which took place in Tucson. So my mother drove down to Tucson and we sat at the awards banquet with a group of students who were as history obsessed as I was. One woman was all about the Salem Witch Trials. Somebody else was into the Irish Potato famine. We had to read and critique each other's work, and none of their papers read like a horror novel, but at least they said mine was pretty narly (which didn't mean cool, it meant insane or weird, which I took as a compliment). I won second place at the regional competition and the award was this book. The author was a faculty member at UofA and presented the book to me, signed.

I looked it over as we drove home and, at first, it seemed like the usual dry academic history reads I'd been used to all the time. Then I discovered something that my mom knew was no-duh! but was a huge eye-opener to me. Not only was Linda Ronstadt born and raised in Tucson, but her family has quite a connection to the music scene of the area. Not only that, but she's the only one of many singers, including Wayne Newton and Waylon Jennings, who either got their start, or based for a time in Arizona (though not Tucson). That mad Los Tucsonenses a book I wanted to read. I love Linda Ronstadt's music, including a collection of jazz songs that she made later on in life, as well as some of her Spanish tunes. So, here follows my review of Los Tucsonenses:

As the title suggests, it is primarily an academic book, written by a professor and suitable for study in an upper-level college course about Arizona history. But that shouldn't deter the average reader. There are enough anecdotes and narrative in this book to make it interesting. Old Tucson (which is still locally called the Old Pueblo) dates back to 1692, when Jesuit missionary Eusebio Francisco Kino established nearby Mission San Xavier del Bac (the White Dove of the Desert) and a settlement was formed near what is now "A" mountain. By 1775, the Spanish had established the Presidio de San Augustin de Tucson. In the centuries since its founding, Tucson has seen its fair share of Indian raids and battles of all kinds, not to mention cameo appearances by various outlaws and other characters in Arizona history. And, as always, it has been at the center of tensions and debate on the Border. Then, there's the Ronstadt family, the story of which seems to tie the whole book together. Whether you're into Arizona history, or you're a Ronstadt fan, you'll enjoy this book.

Lew Wallace: the man who wrote Ben-Hur

When we think of the movie Ben-Hur, we doubtless have in mind the sweeping epic starring one of my classic faves Charlton Heston in the title role. I've seen the movie many times and read the book, which despite its stilted 19th century purple prose does stick with you. The writer of the book, Lew Wallace (1827-1905), was a man with an adventurous life that either Judah Ben-Hur or Charlton Heston would admire, ranging from Civil War service to standoffs with Billy the Kid.

Lew was born in Indiana. Although his father was a West Point grad and governor of Indiana Territory, Lew became an attorney. He saw only brief service as a militiaman during the Mexican War, but otherwise little else happened in his life. He married his wife, Susan, and they had one son, Henry. Then the Civil War broke out in 1861. He was appointed state adjutant General of Indiana and began to raise troops, one regiment of which he commanded himself. His regiment was mostly involved in battles in Tennessee and along the Mississippi River. At Shiloh in 1862, Wallace misunderstood some garbled verbal orders from Grant and ended up showing up on the wrong place on the battlefield to late to be of any use. He did something similar in the Battle of Monacacy in Maryland in 1864. Despite initially being angry with him, Grant always restored him to command.

By 1864, his job consisted of supply arms and aiding the Mexicans to free themselves of their Emperor Maximilian in 1865. Wallace also sat on the military tribunal that tried the Lincoln assassination conspirators, and Henry Wirz, the prison commandant at Andersonville. After the war and these trials, he resigned from the Army and continued to help the Mexican rebels, often out of his own pocket. He was appointed to a succession of political jobs, including becoming Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire (modern-day Turkey) at one point, but it's his service as Governor of New Mexico Territory from 1878-1881 that is the most interesting, because it was during his downtime on this job that he wrote Ben-Hur.

During his tenure as Governor, Wallace had two problems. New Mexico and Arizona were still deep in the Apache Wars, fearing bands led by the likes of Victoria, Nana, Mangas Coloradas, Cochise and Geronimo. There was also the effects of the Lincoln County War, one of the many grazing wars in the West between cattle ranchers and sheep ranchers. He offered amnesty to many of the men who'd fought on both sides in the Lincoln County War, including Billy the Kid. The terms called for the Kid to testify against comrades who had not complied with the amnesty. He did provide the testimony, but also kept up his murderous ways. Wallace did not pardon him and, in 2010, Governor Bill Richardson reviewed the case. He also refused Billy the Kid a pardon, which had been opposed by descendants Wallace and Pat Garrett, along with modern-day law enforcement.

Wallace had published his first novel in 1873, a forgotten story about the Conquest of Mexico. He wrote and published Ben-Hur in 1880, and it became a runaway best-seller then. It has never been out of print since, and spawn four movies, of which Heston's is the most well-known. Some historians have indicated that the book, in some ways, is autobiographical. Judah accidentally kills a Roman Commander and suffered years of hardship became of it. Wallace's bad hair day at Shiloh cost him his military reputation, which he worked all his life to correct. He later stated that, despite the success of Ben-Hur, he was still bitter about Shiloh.

Ben-HurHe returned to Crawfordsville, IN, where his home and office has become a National Historical Landmark. He offered to raise a regiment to fight in the Spanish-American war in 1898, but was refused and turned away when he tried to enlist as a private. He died in Crawfordsville in 1905.

If Aaron Burr could talk now, what would he say?

Not only is getting the details right essential in historical fiction, accurate portrayal of any main real characters is a must. George Washington as a hearty, rambunctious frontier type? Nope! Napoleon Bonaparte vulnerable and unsure of his next move? Uh-uh. To get a character right not only includes researching what is known of their personality and characteristics, but also their attitude toward and interaction with other characters. A case in point is Gore Vidal's portrayal of Vice-President Aaron Burr in his novel, named what else, Burr. Even the title speaks volumes about this character. He needed no introduction.

Burr is told from the vantage point of Charlie Schuyler, who by his own admission is not related to THOSE Schuylers. Charlie becomes a law clerk, or apprentice lawyer at the time, in the law offices of Aaron Burr years after the duel between him and Alexander Hamilton. Much like Al Pacino in the movie, Scent of a Woman, Burr sets out to teach his wet behind the ears apprentice a thing or two about life lived his way. Burr is under no illusions about Charlie's ability to be a great lawyer, but over time Charlie earns his trust and he begins to open up about the life he's lived and the places and people he'd seen. And he does it exactly as you'd expect Aaron Burr to tell the story if he were able to do so.

Aaron Burr (1756-1836) was born to a wealthy New Jersey family. His mother's last name was Edwards. Her grandfather, Jonathan Edwards, was the famous Puritan minister who'd given the sermon, 'Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God'. Esther Edwards Burr died young and Aaron wound up in the care of his uncle, Timothy Edwards, also a minister. And it was assumed in the family that Aaron would enter the family business, but they had reckoned without Aaron. A man with enough brains and ambition to be dangerous, Aaron didn't care whether God got his hands on him or not. Like many of the Revolutionary generation, he was beginning to embrace ideas of Deism. He was good-looking and knew it, with a taste for the ladies and a constant need to be the center of attention and on the cusp of danger.

The Revolution gave him that chance. He was along for Benedict Arnold's ill-fated expedition to Canada and served on Arnold's staff. Burr genuinely liked Arnold. He was a bold, enterprising commander and he also met Aaron's other criteria. Arnold's family had been in Connecticut for several generations, which meant that he was a gentleman worthy of respect. And, Arnold was willing to take Burr under his patronage. That blew up when Arnold was injured and Aaron was taken onto the staff of General Phillip Schuyler, who was also favorable toward Arnold in the beginning. In the politics of Washington's high command, Aaron was beginning to align himself with people who weren't always on Washington's good side. Burr didn't really care about that any more than he cared what God thought of him.

Aaron met a wealthy Loyalist widow, Theodosia Prevost, who fitted his other requirements for good company, beauty and money. They had one daughter, Theodosia, named after her mother. Theodosia died soon after her daughter's birth, leaving Aaron a single father, something he didn't regret long. Women were more fun if they weren't attached. Burr survived the Revolution and settled down to practice law in New York. He soon became rivals with another attorney who'd been a staff officer, Alexander Hamilton. When both men entered politics, the rivalry heated up. Both men saw themselves as a future President and had the sharp elbows to work their way up the ladder. As history shows, both men failed terribly, and by their own doing. Hamilton blew himself out of the water with the Reynolds affair. For a time it looked like Burr, who had attained the Vice-Presidency, would be the rising star. Then the duel happened in 1804.

But Aaron, being Aaron, always had to be up to something and his dream was to conqueror all or part of Mexico and set himself up as a king or emperor a la Bonaparte. To that end, he began to associate with Gen. James Wilkinson, who has been described as the most disgraceful individual ever to wear the uniform. Burr was also involved with an individual named Harmon Blennerhassett. Wilkinson would supply the weaponry and supplies from pilfered army stores and Blennerhassett began gathering a few idiots willing to go along with this scheme. Wilkinson, sensing that the game was up when the duel happened, flipped and Vice-President Aaron Burr found himself accused of treason with his erstwhile accomplice as star witness.

But Aaron's luck held and he was acquitted. He went back to practicing law in New York, and suffered a further blow when his only daughter, Theodosia, drowned in a shipwreck in 1813, and her young son, Aaron Burr Alston, died soon after. Not to be outdone, in 1833, Aaron laid eyes on a wealthy widow, Eliza Jumel, and married her for her money. That is, until she began divorce proceedings, with Alexander Hamilton, Jr. as her attorney. It's these divorce proceedings, and Burr's Oscar Madison-style grumbling about them, that runs throughout the book. Ironically, the divorce becomes final on the day Burr dies with only Charlie in attendance. Charlie realizes that big city life is not for him and neither is the law and he closes the narrative with a hint that he, too, is off to find some adventure worthy of Aaron Burr.

The point being that, throughout the entire narrative, Vidal never loses sight of the personality of the man he's portraying. Opportunistic, ironic, self-centered, yet with a heart beating somewhere under all those delusions of grandeur, Aaron Burr's personality, as much as historians can glean about it, shines through. One of history's villains emerges as a sympathetic old gummer who could've gone far, but for Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, Madison, etc., but who managed to survive life's raw deals with his curmudgeon's chip on his shoulder intact. You almost wish he would've carried through on his threat to write his own memoirs because a character like this, with a front-row seat to the Nation's early history, would've had a lot to say.Burr

BOOK REVIEW: Owen Connelly, Blundering to Glory: Napoleon's Military Campaigns

While looking through the Goodreads Giveaways I saw that there is a new book about Napoleon that will be released shortly. I'm glad. It's time for an assessment and reassessment. There are so many angles. Napoleon's military campaigns, his policies and accomplishments as a ruler and, of course, the soap opera/reality show that was his family's wild rise to power and ultimate plunge into defeat. Each of those would be a thick, chewy book. What if you're not into thick, chewy books, particularly about subjects that you're not as familiar with. Here's a option.

Owen Connelly's book, Blundering to Glory: Napoleon's Military Campaigns, combines into one handy reference all of Napoleon's major battles and campaigns. Connelly's thesis is that, although Napoleon was a meticulous planner who always had his logistical and staff work done ahead of time, he was quickly able to adapt to conditions on the ground and take advantage of mistakes, both his own and those of his opponents. Thus, no Napoleonic battle ever went quite according to plan. And, Connelly supports this thesis in a way that I like books about battles and campaigns to read. I've never been in the military, let alone went to a military academy or staff college. Yet, I can understand this book, and the accompanying maps, just fine.

Connelly also has an eye for detail, not only the campaigns, the weaponry, etc., but also the men who made Napoleon's core cadre of commanders work. Napoleon had two close friends, Marshal Jean Lannes, and General Michel Duroc. Both were killed in battle and Napoleon was utterly devastated at their loss. The friendship comes through. Then there's Lannes trying to work with his fellow Gascons, Junot, Murat, etc. Long before D'Artagnan, there were real swashbucklers at Napoleon's court, and they were it. There's also Marshal Nicholas-Charles Oudinot, who relieved boredom by shooting the flames off candles with his pistol, Marshal Laurent Gouvion de St. Cyr, who played the violin to relieve his stress with just about everybody. And, Marshal Michel Ney, the redheaded machine of destruction on the battlefield. You can learn about the battles, and also the men who fought them, all in one quick, convenient read. Don't know why this hasn't rated a 5-star on Amazon.

Blundering to Glory: Napoleon's Military Campaigns

Martha Summerhayes and Eveline Alexander: Cavalry Wives

Primary source material, such as diaries, letters, first-person memoirs and the like, are invaluable tools for historians and historical fiction authors. Many women who accompanied the husbands on military assignments were Eastern, educated, and took to writing to relieve stress and boredom, and to pay tribute to their husbands' service and their sacrifice. I remember studying two of these women in college and thinking that they whined their way through their time in the West. Looking back now, I know they weren't whining, they were reporting their experiences, what they saw and how they felt about it. Life for officers and men in frontier Army posts was thankless. It was even more grueling for their families, for whom little accommodation was provided.

Eveline Throop Martin Alexander (1843-1922), was born to a wealthy New York family. She had several siblings and her family made sure she was well educated and didn't want for anything. She fell in love with a Cavalry officer, Andrew Alexander, in 1864 and after the war, followed her husband on his various military assignments. He would eventually attain the rank of General. Eveline wrote letters back home, as well as notes about her life in various Indian territories of the Southwest. As the wife of a higher-ranking officer, conditions were sometimes passable, but her personal life was a tragedy. She bore Andrew five children, of whom five died as babies or children. In 1888, while they were traveling home to New York, Andrew died in her arms on the train. She would also outlive her oldest son, dying both widowed and childless. Despite these tragedies, she was remembered as an articulate woman of command presence, beloved by her large birth family. Her notes and reminiscences remained within her family and were not widely known in her day. They were later compiled as "Cavalry Wife: The Diary of Eveline M. Alexander.

Martha Summerhayes (1844-1926) was born in Nantucket, MA, also to a well-to-do family. She was educated and spent two years in Germany. When she met and married her husband, John Summerhayes, in 1873 his military assignments were to her another reason to travel and experience more of the world. Hayes was first a Lieutenant and, as post-War promotion was slower, attained the rank of Captain. Accommodations for junior officers were little better than those provided for men. Like most Army wives, her life was a series of moves. Flustered over what to pack and what to leave behind, an older military wife advised her to "take it all, it'll get carried along somehow."

Life in Apache country was scary to someone who did not know the ways and customs of the Indians. She saw an Apache woman whose nose had been sliced off (punishment for adultery), and picked up a stinking box thinking it contained rotten cheese. When she gave it to a soldier to dispose of, he opened it and found it contained a severed head! During at least one of their travels between various outposts in Arizona, their wagon train was ambushed. John Summerhayes gave his wife a pistol and told her she'd better learn to use it and fast. He also advised her to save the last bullet for herself. (No, that wasn't a myth. There are many accounts of this. Better to be dead when the Indians got to you, then half-alive and scalped that way). When their son, Jack, was born, Martha had to do the whole delivery by herself because post doctors did not attend childbirths and there were no other women around to help her. John Summerhayes retired from the Army in 1900 and their family returned back to MA, and later settled in NY. When Martha's diary was published as "VanishedCavalry Wife: The Diary of Eveline M. Alexander, 1866-1867 Arizona", she became a best-selling author and instant celebrity, a late but deserved reward Vanished Arizona: Recollections of the Army Life of a New England Womanfor all she had been through.

BOOK REVIEW: Soiled Doves: Prostititution in the Early West, by Anne Seagraves

Miss Kitty of the Long Branch Saloon in the series Gunsmoke has always been an ambiguity. She ran a bar and occasionally allowed guests to go upstairs with women of their choosing, so she must have been. Naww, no way, just because she was a saloon proprietress didn't make her one, did it? The ambiguity between who was or wsn't a respectable woman in the Old West was ambiguous. Many boardinghouse and saloon proprietresses were madams. Others were not. Some dancehall girls and waitresses did work on the side, as did many cooks and laundresses, but some did not. And woe betide the man who mistook whom he was speaking to or about and overstepped the mark. Being called one was offensive, even to women who were and certainly to women were under the protection of a man, even if he wasn't her pimp.

Anne Seagraves' book, Soiled Doves: Prostitution in the Early West, takes us into the world of what was then known as the demi-monde, the domain of women who entertained lonely men on the frontier, from respectable politicians and townsmen, to miners and ranchers, to gamblers, gunmen and outlaws. Some women, such as Madams Mattie Silks and Veronica Baldwin, entered this world by choice for the money, freedom and glamour. Others, such as Doc Holliday's main squeeze, Big Nose Kate Haroney, were at-risk teenagers escaping abusive families or foster homes. And at the bottom end of the scale were exploited children and immigrants, particularly in San Francisco's Chinatown. Keeping track of who was what was difficult back in their day. It can be impossible nowadays when our most vivid image of one, maybe, is Miss Kitty at the Long Branch, the (maybe) lovable madam with the heart of gold. Like her, many of these women aspired to escape this world through marriage and, like her, many were disappointed in that goal.

Seagraves doesn't glamourize the world these women lived and worked in, but she doesn't condemn it entirely. Prostitution served a purpose in the West when women of any type were scarce and men needed an outlet besides booze, cards and getting in trouble. Some of these women truly had hearts of gold, such as Calamity Jane, who nursed her neighbors through an epidemic, or Denver madam Jennie Rodgers, who like her colleague Mattie Silks contributed to charity, made sure her girls dressed respectably in public and attended church, and watched carefully for women who were succumbing to alcohol or laudanum. Many women survived and thrived in this world, and some did go on to respectable marriages or relationships.

Soiled Doves chronicles the hierarchy of Old West prostitution. At the top end were the parlor house girls who lived in a mansion, sometimes in a respectable part of town, wore fine clothes and catered to a city's elite male population. Bordello women and sex workers in dancehalls and saloons were the rank and file of the female underworld. At the bottom were streetwalkers and sex slaves. The book follows a case history format, highlighting biographies of notable women, including Donaldina Cameron, a San Francisco reformer who was not afraid to physically break down the door of a brothel to set exploited Chinese girls free. The book is a quick and entertaining read, but also sobering and informative. This gets a five star rating on Amazon.

Novelists as writers of historical non-fiction.

While I write historical fiction, I hope to someday graduating to writing non-fiction books about history. Carolly Erickson is an author who writes both novels and non-fiction historical works, including Josephine: a Life of the Empress, Alexandra: the Last Tsarina, and To the Scaffold: A Life of Marie Antoinette. She has also written biographies on Catherine the Great, Queen Victoria, Elizabeth I and II, Anne Boleyn, Mary I, Henry VIII and Bonnie Prince Charlie.

The advantage of having a novelist write a non-fiction historical piece is that they capture the little details that fill out the character. While a writer who focuses on non-fiction dwells on the facts, the novelist concentrates on the backstory and interconnection that make those facts interesting. Alexandra was a well-meaning woman who couldn't get ahead in her husband's family and kingdom no matter how much she tried. Isolated, burdened with unnecessary guilt over having brought hemophilia into the Romanov family, she was vulnerable to users and abusers like Rasputin. Josephine was a deeply trouble woman thrust into a position for which she was ill-prepared. An aristocrat born into poverty, risen to become the wife and empress of one of the most ego-driven and megalomaniac men in history, she lost herself in a web of spending and gambling. Did she love Napoleon or did she love the lavish lifestyle he was able to afford? She, like Alexandra, found the duties of her position difficulty, but at the end it was so hard to give it all up.

Erickson's treatment of Marie Antoinette is the most tragic of the three. Marie Antoinette is often pictured in history as a frivolous featherhead who destroyed her husband's country through her own mad pursuit of pleasures. However, by the time Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette ascended to the throne, France was already teetering on the brink of collapse. What few people know about Marie Antoinette was that beneath the scatterbrained exterior was a woman who was genuinely interested in the welfare of her subjects and devoted a lot of time to charity. She was also the mother of a deeply troubled daughter, Marie Therese, Madame Royale's memories of her mother were a mixed bag of longing and resentment. Ultimately Marie, like Alexandra, tried to rescue her husband's government and only made the situation worse.