Word Play.

I’ve been working hard on the final version of ‘Eulogy’s Secret’ and it’s big decision time (drum roll!) Do I spell-check in my native UK English, or go for US English? The differences aren't huge and mainly come down to ‘parlour’ vs ‘parlor’ and some disappearing L’s (dishevelled vs disheveled) but it did set me thinking about dictionaires and (another tenuous link to excuse a blog post) the compiler of the first dictionary to include common usages of words for a clearer definition, Dr Samuel Johnson.

....because the word 'CAT' must appear in any good dictionary......

Surpisingly Dr Johnson seems a bit of a wit on the side. Despite the gravitas of his work he came up with such chose sayings as:

“A second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience,”

“A cucumber should be well sliced, and dressed with pepper and vinegar, and then thrown out as good for nothing.”

And

“A woman’s preaching is like a dog walking on his hind legs. It is not done well: but you are surprised to find it done at all.”

Dc Samuel Johnson.

Dr Johnson’s “Dictionary of the English Language” was published in 1755 and weighed in at nearly 9 kilos (20 lbs). Despite costing the equivalent today of nearly 500 GBP, it was an instant bestseller. With 42,773 entries, it took the good Doctor eight years to complete, although he was originally supposed to complete the book in three years. This original target seems particularly unrealistic, bearing in mind that it took forty French scholars, forty years to do the same task. As Johnson remarked:

“Forty times forty is sixteen hundred. As three to sixteen hundred, so is the proportion of an Englishman to a Frenchman.”

One of Johnson’s fears was that the English language was becoming unduly influenced by the French and would,

“…reduce us to babble a dialect of France.”

And he refused to add words such as, champagne, blonde and bourgeois to his dictionary, in protest.

As already mentioned, Johnson’s dictionary was the first to explain words with common expressions or usage. Let me end with some examples of his humour slipping into some of the definitions.

First editions of Dc Johnson's famous dictionary.

Lexicographer – ‘a writer of dictionaires; a harmless drudge.’

Patron – ‘commonly a wretch who supports with insolence and is paid with flattery’  (Johnson was on poor terms with his patron!)

Oats – ‘a grain which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.’

Stockjobber – 'a low wretch who gets money by buying and selling shares.'

Debating between pic of stockjobbers and kittens....the kittens won!

The Canary Isles ....going to the dogs.

The beautiful sandy beaches of the Canary Isles.

 I’m on vacation and so when choosing a topic for my weekend blog post, my thoughts turned to that popular holiday destination of the Canary Isles (OK, I know it’s a tenous link.) But, if like me, you assumed these Spanish islands, located off the north-west coast of mainland Africa, were named after small, brightly coloured birds – just like me, you’d be wrong.

'Canary Dogs.'

In the first century BC, the Romans sent an expedition, their findings reported back by Pliny the Elder:

“The island of Canaria [is] so-called from the multitude of dogs [canes] of great size.”

‘Canary’ dervies from the Latin for dog, ‘canis’, from which our word ‘canine’ is derived. There is also an association with a North African tribe called ‘the Canarii’, so called by Pliny because:

“They partake of their food in common with the canine race, and share with it the entrails of wild beasts."

The coat of arms of the Canary Islands, reflects it's origins.

Subsequent explorers sent by King Juba II of Mauritius, returned to present their paymaster with two of these giant dogs. Some accounts now speculate that these so-called-dogs were actually a species of Monk Seals (or ‘Sea-dog’ in Latin.) – now sadly critically endangered and no longer resident on the Canary Isles.

Monk Seals.

Canary birds do come from the Canary Islands, but it was a case of cart before horse, as explained Virginia Sliverstein in her book, ‘Beautiful Birds’ –

“Canaries were named after the Canary Islands, and not the other way round.”

So there we have it, some not-too-taxing holiday trivia. Enjoy!

Smugglers and the Isle of Wight.

Congratulations to Lily for winning the Amazon eVoucher giveaway.

Lily, your voucher will be with you shortly.

The tidal harbour at St Helens, Isle of Wight.

I’m currently on the Isle of Wight, which is a place rich with a history of smuggling. In the 18^th century, to the north-east of the island, the tidal mud-flats of St Helens and Bembridge, made them the perfect hideout for smugglers. Many were fishermen, who supplemented their income by illegally importing high value goods, such as tea, tobacco, brandy, lace and silks – that were highly taxed by the British government to finance war with France.

Low tide, St Helens beach, with a Palmerston Fort in the distance.

The local knowledge of these fishermen meant they could safely navigate the treacherous shallow, in-shore waters at low tide, leaving the Excisemen in their deeper drafted vessels, stranded out in the Solent.

Palmerston Fort seen from St Helens beach.

The Island acted as a staging post for goods smuggled over from France, and then transported to the main land in the fishermen’s skiffs. Spirits such as brandy were often double or even triple strength, and made for a tidy profit once diluted. Barrels were often attached to ropes and dragged beneath the water, hidden from the vigilant eyes of the Excisemen patrolling the waters.

The treachorous, Bembridge Ledge, as seen from Culver Down.

It was a dangerous job, being an exciseman; you risked shipwreck, shooting or intoxication! One Exciseman who was captured by brandy smugglers was forced to drink as much brandy as he could before passing out, at which point he was tied to a horse and set free.

On the horison, a Palmerston Fort.

Two things saw the reduction in the smuggling trade: a reduction in tax duty, and the building of Martello Towers, or Palmerstone Forts, along the south coast. These were constructed to oppose any invading Revolutionary or Napoleonic forces but also acted as a convenient base for the national coast guard, established in 1824.

Taking part in the walk-to-the-fort, walking across the sea at ultra-low tide.

Some of these forts can still be seen off the Isle of Wight, and although built out at sea, at ultra-low tide, a path emerges that makes it possible to ‘Walk to the fort’ – something I have done on a couple of occasions and an almost biblical experience – being a little like the parting of the Red Sea.

Bizarre Tudor Deaths ( Part 2 of 2.)

 

THIS WEEK ONLY - A GIVEAWAY - $10 AMAZON VOUCHER - see bottom of this post for details.
[Part of the Bookhounds Blog Tour.]

Midweek, I posted about the work of Dr Gunn, a historian from Oxford University. Dr Gunn had the genius idea of reading Coroners’ Reports from the Tudor period, to find out about how people lived…and died…back then.

His research revealed that some people met their ends in surprising and, often bizarre ways; see part 1 (posted before ‘The Treasures in My Life’).

Maypole Injuries.

It seems that even such benign objects of entertainment, such as maypoles, could kill. Thomas Alsopp of Coventry, was one such victim. On 26^th April 1558 he was standing near a church wall, when the maypole fell over. It hit the wall, knocking a stone out which tumbled and hit Thomas’ head, fracturing his skull and killing him instantly. Who’d have thought?

Keeping Clean is Not Always Healthy.

After working up a sweat, dancing round the maypole, cooling off meant a quick dip in the local pond. Coroners’ Reports unearthed by Dr Gunn reveal several workmen who died as a result of freshening up.

Thomas Staple a labourer in Kent, went to Mr Mayne’s pond on 2 June 1558, to clean up, but unfortunately feel into the deepest part, and being unable to swim, drowned.

That same summer, George Lee and John Joplyn, both drowned whilst bathing in rivers in Leicester and Cambridge respectively: one fell into a whirlpool, whilst the other got trapped by bushes and drowned.

Drowning in ….!

What was a ‘Gong Farmer’?

Answer: it was the Tudor name for someone whose occuptation was to empty sewage from cesspits.

You can guess what’s coming next…. Or, perhaps not!

A drunken baker from Cambridge, in the process of relieving his bladder took a step backwards and fell into a cesspit on 2 June 1523… and suffocated. Urgh!

Handguns.

The first recorded death by accidental shooting occurred in 1519. The victim was a woman from Welton, near Hull. She was shot by a French bookbinder (called Peter Frenchman!). Having never seen a gun before, the victim walked in front as it was fired….

From this initial accident it took less than forty years for ‘death by accidental shooting’ to over take the number of longbow related deaths.

By-Your-Own-Bow

In Part One, I mentioned death by bow and arrow – but this was at someone else’s hand. So how, exactly, do you shoot yourself in the head with your own bow?

This is exactly what happened in 1552 to Henry Pert, gentleman from Nottinghamshire. He drew his bow to the full extent with the intention of firing an arrow straight up in the air. The arrow lodged in the bow so he lowered the bow and leant over to take a look…at which point the arrow released. He died the next day.

If you have enjoyed this post, then why not follow my blog?

As part of the Bookhounds  Blog Tour, I am offering a giveaway of a $10 Amazon voucher to one lucky person, who does just that.

Just join this blog and leave a comment with your email address.

The winner will be drawn at random on Monday 8^th August.

The winning person’s name will be posted on the blog and the voucher emailed.

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE OTHER BLOGS IN THE TOUR.
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The Treasures in My Life....

Hello and welcome!

Today I'm taking part in the Blog-a-Licious blog tour on the theme of 'Treasures in My Life.'

Now I was tempted to post serious stuff about health, family and home...but hey...I thought I'd have a little fun instead, so here goes.

Enjoy!

CATS

Anyone vaguely acquainted with me will appreciate that I'm nuts about cats. I love 'em, can't get enough of them! Cats are a miracle of creation: the way tabby-cat coats match on both sides, the detail where their whiskers are plumbed in, retractable claws and last but not least - the purr! What a great thing a purr is! So 'cats' are right up there with the treasures in my life: too valuable to put a price on.

CHOCOLATE.

OK, chocolate. Do I really need to explain? Chocolate is one of those wonderful delights that can be as essential as medicine. A treasure to me is something that enriches life...and chocolate does that all right!  (John Lennon in chocolate - made by my eldest son.)

COMPUTORS (...and OK, cats again!)

If treasure enriches life, then so does my laptop. I'm not in the least tekky, and yet I cant live without my computor; I write on my laptop and it's a portal to people and places that are dear to me. And yes, Widget sits beside me while I write, only I try not to get up too often because she pinches the warm spot.

CREATIVITY.

This is a photo of the picture my son painted for his A level art exam. I've posted it because it represents creativity and the pleasure it brings. My eldest son's creative outlet is painting, my younger son's his is humour, mine is writing...but whichever and whatever, being able to express yourself is a jewel without price.

NIFF-NAFF AND TRIVIA.

Not all treasures are valuable - take this bracelet as an example. It wasn't expensive but I love it none-the-less. I adore how it catches the light and shines the colours of the rainbow, like water trapped in jewel form, trivial really but it pleases me. I love other trivia to, such as historical trivia...but you'll know that already if you are a regular visitor to this blog.

BOOKS!

It was a close run thing whether I posted a picture of books or my kindle! As an avid reader, books, be it DTB or electronic, are a way of life and I wouldnt be without one in my handbag or pocket. The world is a much richer place because of literature.

THE SEA

This may seem an odd chose as a 'treasure' but there's something about the sea that makes me feel good, in the same way that possessing something of great price does. For me there's a connection with the sea that can't be bought.

HOME, SWEET HOME.

Last but not least...this is the view from the door of my local Indian Restaurant. I'd strolled there one evening to collect my carry out, turned round and saw this view with fresh eyes. Now if this isnt something to treasure, what is?

I'd love to hear about the treasures in your life...please share and leave a comment.

Your next stop is Dora's blog : http://blogaliciousblogs.blogspot.com/

The other blogs taking part in this tour are:

1. Dilman - http://dilmandila.blogspot.com/

2. Debbie - http://www.scatteredmusings.net/3. Shelley - http://bookfare.blogspot.com/

4. Lucy - http://lifethrulucylasticaslense.blogspot.com/ 5. Karen - http://britsunited.blogspot.com
6. Shannon - http://reflectionandreview.com/ 

7.Dora - http://peacefrompieces.blogspot.com/ 

8. Hope - http://theoncominghope.blogspot.com

9. Janet - http://jlbcreatives.blogspot.com

10. Karen - http://karenvwasylowski.blogspot.com

11. Janu - http://janukulkarni.blogspot.com

12. Catherine - http://www.catherinestine.blogspot.com/13. David - http://blog.elenchera.com
14. Stuart - http://stuartland.com/blog/

15. Grace - http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com

16. Dora - http://blogaliciousblogs.blogspot.com/

THANK YOU, GRACE X

Bizarre Tudor Deaths

Reenlty, I read about the fascinating work of Dr Steve Gunn, from Oxford University’s faculty of history. Dr Gunn researches Tudor Coroners’ Reports to look into causes of death in the 16^th century. One such example found during his research was a reference to the drowning of:

“...a Jane Shaxspere drowned aged two-and-a-half while picking corn marigolds 20 miles from Stratford-upon-Avon in 1569. Shakespeare was then about five."

With such an unusual surname it seems likely the drowned girl and William Shakespeare were cousins, which raised the intriguing question of whether Jane Shaxspere became the inspiration for Ophelia, the tragic heroine in ‘Hamlet.’

Millais' famous painting 'Ophelia' - (Picture courtesy of Tate.Org)

Dr Gunn wrote:

"Coroners’ reports of fatal accidents are a useful and hitherto under-studied way of exploring everyday life in Tudor England.”

He added:

"There are some very revealing things to come out of our project already. 'Workmen often drowned when they stripped off to bathe in rivers and ponds after work, so maybe 16th century people had more sense of hygiene than we think."

So, apart from drowning, what were some of the more unusual causes of death in Tudor England?Taken from Dr Gunn’s work, here are some of the more interesting…not to mention unusual deaths.

(Picture courtesy of MadBlackCat.com)

1 – ARCHERY
Working men were expected to be proficient in archery, in case called upon to defend the realm. Archery practice was a common pastime and Coroners’reports revealed 56 accidental deaths; resulting from people standing too close to the targets, or those whom went to collect spent arrows before the archer had finished shooting.

Coroners even reported the depth of wounds. Nicholas Wyborne holds the unwanted record for the deepest wound, he was lying near a target when he was hit by a falling arrow to a penetration of six inches.

Some deaths were more avoidable – such as Thomas Curteys who took off his hat and challenged a bowman, Richard Lyrence, to hit it….

Bear Baiting.

2 BEARS
Cruel sports, such as bear baiting, were a common entertainment in Tudor times. Henry VIII had his own royal arena built in Whitehall, for just such sports.

But the bears sometimes got the upper hand and escaped. One victim, Agnes Owen, was killed in her bed by a runaway bear, and it seems Agnes was an unlucky name because another, Agnes Rapte was killed by Lord Bergavenny’s escapee bear. Bears, however, were quite valuable and when one bit a man to death in Oxford, in 1565, the bear wasn’t killed but put into royal custody – perhaps because was worth six months’ wages for a labourer.

3 – COWS
One poor man, with the unfortunate name of Robert Calf, was gored to death by a cow. He was walking through the fields of William Cheills, in Lincolnshire, when the cow seemingly went mad, charged him and gored him to death with her horn.

4- GAMES
The unlucky John Hypper was :

"...playinge Christenmas games' on Boxing Day 1563 at about 6pm with divers other parishioners of Houghton, Hampshire in the house of Thomas Purdew of Houghton, husbandman. While playing he involuntarily crushed himself and injured his testicles so that by reason of his old bodily infirmity he became ill and languished until about 3am on 28 December when he died."

Ouch!

FOR MORE TUDOR DEATHS – VISIT AGAIN ON SUNDAY!

For more information about Dr Gunn please follow the link:
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2000581/Girl-drowned-picking-flowers-inspired-Hamlet-heroine.html#ixzz1TIWeU8oJ

With thanks to Dr Gunn, Sean Coughlan and the Daily Mail.

Welcome! Author Sophie Jordan!

I'm delighted to welcome author, Sophie Jordan, to my blog and asked award-winning author, Sophie -to describe her writing day. Over to you, Sophie!

SOPHIE SHARES HER WRITING DAY...

My ideal writing day probably involves me at a quaint cottage in the English countryside. I’ll walk the countryside in the morning and take tea (and eat some delicious pastry where the calories don’t count) at an outdoor café in an equally quaint village with cobbled streets. I’ll return to my cottage and sit outdoors in the quintessential English garden as I write my daily page, and respond to a few emails. I’d knock my pages out in a few hours and have the rest of the day to do as I please … more walking, exploring (yes, there would be a nearby castle to investigate), probably shopping at a local outdoor farmer’s market for dinner (I love to cook!) – and the day would end with a lovely dinner with my family (in this dream I don’t have to consider where they’ve been up until now), some excellent wine, maybe a good movie. Now THAT would be a perfect day!

In reality, my life is much more chaotic. Definitely not something out of a Rosamunde Pilcher novel. The mornings are full of the demands of my children. Feeding them, dressing them, getting them ready for wherever it is I have to take them. School/preschool, if during the school year. Swim practice, gymnastics, soccer practice in the summer. Basically I do everything that your stay-at-home mom has to do, except I’m also a full-time writer – with multiple books to write/revise/edit a year. I also have several conferences and speaking engagements a year (sometimes monthly) to attend, and recently I’ve also begun book touring. And don’t let me get started on my inbox … All this I do among juggling children, chores, grocery shopping, cooking and never-ending laundry.

Essentially my day is a win if I get my latte, get in a good amount of pages written, and the family is content. Fortunately, at this point in my career, I do have an assistant to help me manage a lot of what I call the secretarial side of being a writer (the never ending emails, promotion, and constant flow of material to UPS, etc). And I must mention a supportive spouse helps more than I can say. We work as a team in this lovely madness that is my life.

Also, perhaps the greatest gift … is that I’m able to have it all. A family and the career I always wanted. I can be sitting outside a noisy gymnastics practice, but in my lap is my alphasmart and I’m escaping into this wonderful world I’ve created – like in my book Wicked In Your Arms, for instance … I am in the English countryside. With an exotic, battle-hardened prince! And a very saucy Jane Austen-ish heroine who’s going to challenge him beautifully. There’s adventure and romance. As a writer, I’m there – in it! That pretty much makes even my worst day ideal. J

BLURB for "Wicked in Your Arms."

(First in Forgotten Princesses series) Prince Sevastian Maksimi needs a wife. An heiress with the breeding and dowry to breathe life into his kingdom. After years of fighting a bloody civil war, Sev has wrested his country from revolutionaries and looks to England for a bride who will replenish both his royal coffers and the royal nursery. He knows what it’s like to put the needs of his country before his own desires. Only duty matters. Only the most acceptable female will do. Attraction does not signify … especially his vexing hunger for the bold and brazen Grier Hadley. While he cannot consider the unseemly female as a bride, the enticing chit is the only woman he wants in his bed.

The bastard daughter of a man renowned as the lord of the London underworld, Grier Hadley might possess one of the season’s plumpest dowries, but she’s a far cry from the pedigreed debutantes out to land a husband. A truth that becomes glaringly obvious when she overhears a certain prince mocking her lineage. What makes the handsome wretch think she would even want him for a husband anyway? He might, however, be the perfect candidate for an illicit liaison.