Scandalous Women reaches 4 Million Page Views & Giveaway

While I wasn't looking Scandalous Women reached a milestone of 4 million page views. When I started the blog almost 6 years ago, I couldn't imagine even having one person (other than me) reading the blog, but now to know that people are reading the blog, tweeting about it and buying the book, it still seems unreal to me.  I want to thank everyone who has either liked Scandalous Women on Facebook or added the blog to their Google reader and now Bloglovin!

To celebrate, I thought I would do a giveaway.  One lucky winner will win not just one, but all three of Gillian Bagwell's books,  THE DARLING STRUMPET (nominated for RWA's prestigious RITA award), THE SEPTEMBER QUEEN, and her latest, VENUS IN WINTER, plus a surprise gift.

Giveaway (US only)

- To enter, please leave a comment below and include your email address (only comments with email addresses will be entered in the giveaway).

 

- If you are not a follower and become one, you get an extra entry
- If you tweet about the giveaway, you get an extra entry.
- If you like my Scandalous Women Facebook page, you get an extra entry.

Good luck!

 

- Giveaway ends on August 7th.

Good luck!

Review: THE CHALICE - A NOVEL

Title:  THE CHALICE: A NOVEL

Author:  Nancy Bilyeau
Publisher: Touchstone
Publication date: 3/5/2013
Pages: 485
How Acquired:  Net Galley/TLC Book Tours

What it’s about:  In 1538, England’s bloody power struggle between crown and cross threatens to tear the country apart. Novice Joanna Stafford has tasted the wrath of the royal court, discovered what lies within the king’s torture rooms, and escaped death at the hands of those desperate to possess the power of an ancient relic.

Even with all she has experienced, the quiet life is not for Joanna. Despite the possibilities of arrest and imprisonment, she becomes caught up in a shadowy international plot targeting Henry VIII himself. As the power plays turn vicious, Joanna realizes her role is more critical than she’d ever imagined. She must choose between those she loves most and assuming her part in a prophecy foretold by three seers. Repelled by violence, Joanna seizes a future with a man who loves her. But no matter how hard she tries, she cannot escape the spreading darkness of her destiny.

To learn the final, sinister piece of the prophecy, she flees across Europe with a corrupt spy sent by Spain. As she completes the puzzle in the dungeon of a twelfth-century Belgian fortress, Joanna realizes the life of Henry VIII as well as the future of Christendom are in her hands—hands that must someday hold the chalice that lies at the center of these deadly prophecies.

My thoughts:   I’d heard good things about Nancy Bilyeau’s first novel THE CROWN last year but I couldn’t bring myself to read it.  It was about a former nun for one, and I’d spent twelve years being taught by Episcopalian nuns.  The last thing I wanted to do was read about one.  It was also set during my least favorite time period, the reign of King Henry VIII.  So while everyone was heaping praise on the novel, I sat on the sidelines.   But then I was offered the opportunity to review Nancy’s new book THE CHALICE, and I was in a different mindset.  I thought ‘why not?’  So I sat down last week and downloaded the book onto my NOOK and then didn’t put it down until I was finished.  In fact, I resented doing things like having to go to work because it interrupted my reading time. 

Joanna Stafford is exactly my kind of heroine, she’s impatient, has a bad-temper, asks questions when she shouldn’t.  She resents the idea that she has some sort of role to play that has been prophesied; in fact she fights the idea ¾ of the way through the book before she finally accepts her responsibility.  At times she’s too stubborn for her own good, but I like that in a heroine.  She’s half Spanish, her mother was a lady-in-waiting to Katherine of Aragon, and so her behavior is sometimes excused for that reason.  At the beginning of the book, Joanna believes that her life has settled down after her first adventure.  She has a good life in Dartford, raising her cousin Margaret Bulmer’s son Arthur.  She even has a plan for making a living, weaving tapestries.  Although she had planned to spend her life cloistered in a Dominican nunnery, and misses the life that should have been hers, Joanna adapts easily to life outside the nunnery walls.  No doubt this is because she entered the cloistered life later than most women, and her time as a novice was brief.

What I enjoyed about this book was Joanna’s struggles against the role that she is fated to play, and that she was an active heroine.  Joanna doesn’t wait for things to happen to her in the novel, she seeks them out.   I was surprised that she had two different men in her life, both of whom have feelings for her in different ways, Geoffrey Scovill and Brother Edmund.  Although Joanna had planned to spend her life as a nun, she still is all too human, with all the frailties that come along with being human. She’s no saint, nor does she aspire to be.  It was a very interesting choice to have Joanna related to the Stafford family, who like Henry VIII were descended from both Edward III and the Woodville's.  It means that you have a character who is not only related to everyone that matters but who has a reason to get involved in what is going on.

The book is equal parts, historical mystery and thriller, and it moves at a breakneck pace until the final scenes.  I was pretty amazed at what the dénouement turned out to be. It was extraordinarily clever I must say and it explains a bit of history that people have often wondered about.  I don’t want to spoil the story by revealing too much.  I just recently read that there will be a third book in the series, which makes me very happy, although now I have to go back and read the first book damnit!  I will admit that I did spend some time looking up some of the historical characters on Wikipedia.  Bilyeau neatly weaves in the historical events regarding Henry VIII’s systematic removal of the remaining Plantagenets who could conceivably have a claim to the throne.  I found myself fascinated by the turmoil and havoc that Henry VIII's decision to wrench control of the church from Rome had on England. A decision that still has ramifications today.

My verdict:   This is a superbly written, historical thriller, an enticing brew filled with intriguing characters, politics, emotional turmoil, and religion, all served up with sumptuous historical detail.  A must read.

Lady of the English - The Life of Empress Matilda

This year marks the 60^th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth’s coronation which is a remarkable achievement.   Elizabeth II is the 6^th Queen regnant in over 1,000 years of English history, following in the footsteps of Mary I, Elizabeth I, Mary II, Anne, and Victoria.  The anniversary also started me thinking about the woman, who should have been the first Queen regnant of England, the Empress Matilda.  One can’t help but speculate how the history of England might have been different if Matilda had been able to take her rightful place on the throne of England.  Would it have made the road easier for later Queens such as Margaret of Anjou who worked to hold the throne for her husband and son, or later on Mary Tudor? Or would Matilda have been seen as a fluke, an experiment never to be repeated?

Matilda was the eldest child of Henry I of England, son of William the Conqueror, and his first wife Edith of Scotland.  She was born on February 7, 1102 in England, where has been a subject of debate.  Some historians claim that she was born in Winchester, others that she was born at the royal palace at Sutton in Berkshire.  Little is known about her early childhood, like most royal children, she probably soon had her own establishment.  She would have seen little of her father.  When she was two years old, he went to Normandy and stayed there for three years.  Norman French would have been her first language, although she probably learned English as well. She was betrothed to Henry V, the Holy Roman Emperor at a young age, traveling to Germany at the age of 8 along with her large dowry. 

Like Marie Antoinette centuries later, Matilda’s Anglo-Norman retinue was dismissed soon after her arrival. Her education was taken over by the Archbishop Bruno of Trier.  Matilda would have quickly learned German in order to communicate with her subjects.  Over the next four years, she was educated to be the spouse of the Emperor, sort of Queen school if you like.  At the age of 12, she was considered old enough to wed and the couple was married in June of 1114. Despite the age difference, Henry was 15 years older than his bride; the couple appears to have grown fond of each other.  Henry trusted her and respected her enough to leave her as regent in Italy for two years which gained her valuable political experience.  The only thing that would have cemented the relationship would have been if Matilda had given birth to a son, but there were no children of the marriage.  However there are some historians who believe that Matilda may have had a son who died when he was a few months old.

Two events changed Matilda’s life forever.  The first event was the death in 1120 of her brother William Atheling who drowned in the White Ship disaster.  His death cast a shadow over the succession.  As Matilda was Henry’s only legitimate child, she should have been named his successor.  Instead Henry I married again, to Adeliza of Louvain.  There was every chance that Adeliza would bear a son who would inherit (after Henry’s death, Adela remarried and gave birth to seven children by her new husband). The second event was the death of her husband in 1125.  At the age of 23, she was now a childless widow.  Matilda was now summoned to Normandy by her father.  She was displeased at his summons; she was a respected and much loved figure by her husband’s subjects.  There had even been offers of marriage by other German princes.  After 15 years abroad, she was now more German than Norman.   There was however one upside to her return.  Her father had now decided that she would be the heiress presumptive to the throne.  In 1127, Henry made his court, including his nephew Stephen of Blois; swear an oath of allegiance to Matilda. There was also a second oath a year later at Henry’s Easter Court.

However Matilda’s succession was not a sure thing as she had several strikes against her. The idea of primogeniture was a new one for England.  Before the Norman Conquest, the King of England was chosen by a council of nobles.  After William’s death, the throne was seized by his second son William Rufus who fought his eldest brother Robert for the crown.  After William Rufus’s early death, his youngest brother Henry wasted no time before having himself crowned King of England.  There were other claimants to the throne including Henry’s nephews Stephan and his brother Eustace (sons of his sister Adela), and another nephew William Clito, the son of Henry’s oldest brother Robert.  Henry also had something like twenty illegitimate children.  Later on, her husband Geoffrey would be considered a problem.  The Normans actively disliked and distrusted the Angevins.

But the biggest obstacle was that England was not ready for a Queen, certainly not one who actually expected to rule. Chroniclers of the era called her proud and haughty, traits that would have been applauded in a man but not in a woman.  While it was perfectly permissible for a woman to rule in her husband’s stead while he is off waging war or tending to his other lands (as Matilda’s mother did), it was another for her to rule alone.  The church taught that women were weaker than men, more prone to sin.  For a woman to rule was considered an abomination.  Church leaders were fond of bringing up Queen Jezebel as an example of why women should not rule, forgetting of course that Jezebel was only a Queen consort.  And then there’s Cleopatra, another cautionary tale of what happens when a woman rules. This attitude didn’t change even in the 16^th century.  Ask Mary, Queen of Scots about her bête noire John Knox.

Now that Henry had made her his heiress, it was time to arrange another marriage for her.  As before, Matilda would have no say in the choice of her groom. To her dismay, her father arranged for her to marry Geoffrey, the son of Count Foulke of Anjou.  Her new husband, although handsome with blond hair and blue eyes, was not quite fourteen to her twenty-five.  He was also, like most adolescents, spoiled and petulant.  He was also a mere count when Matilda had once been an Empress.  She considered the marriage to be beneath her.  When Matilda refused to through with the marriage, Henry locked her in her room until she agreed. The couple was married at Le Mans in June of 1128.  All her life, Matilda refused to use her new title as Countess, preferring to be known as Empress.

The marriage was tempestuous from the beginning and after a year Matilda left her husband and returned to Normandy.  Matilda no doubt took out her resentment on her young husband.  Having been in the same position once as her new husband, you would have thought Matilda would have cut him some slack and shown him the same kindness and consideration she had been shown when she arrived in Germany. The estrangement didn’t last long.  Henry wanted grandchildren and for that to occur Matilda needed to go back to her husband.  Henry got his wish when Matilda gave birth to healthy baby boy in 1133 named Henry.  A second son was born a year later, but Matilda almost died from complications with the labor.  Her condition was so critical that burial arrangements were planned.  However Matilda recovered and a third son named William was born two years later.

Although Henry had named Matilda his successor, no doubt he had hopes of living until his eldest grandson was old enough to ascend the throne. His wishes were thwarted with his sudden death in 1135 after eating an excessive amount of lampreys.  Of course there were all kinds of conspiracy theories surrounding his death.  The relationship between Matilda and her father had become strained in the last few years of his life.  Matilda and Geoffrey had suggested that Henry turn over the royal castles in Normandy to them and have the Norman nobles swear allegiance to her.  This would have put her in a more powerful position after Henry’s death, but Henry refused.

Matilda was caught off guard by her father’s death.  There was no time to raise an army and her way to the coast was blocked by enemies of her husband.  She was also pregnant with her third child.  Like Henry I before him, Stephen acted swiftly to consolidate his hold on the crown. He was crowned at Westminster Abbey the day after Christmas in 1135 by his brother Henry, Bishop of Winchester. Matilda was furious.  Even her half-brother Robert of Gloucester rallied to Stephen. This period of English history is called ‘The Anarchy’ and anarchy it certainly was.  It went on for fifteen years.   Matilda was bowed but not broken.  Since Stephen had been anointed, Matilda appealed to the Pope. But Stephen’s lawyers claimed that Matilda was illegitimate since her mother had not only been raised in a convent but professed desire to be a nun. It was a bit of a stretch but the Pope bought it.  There would be no help for Matilda from that quarter.

Matilda was not without friends and supports.  Her uncle King David of Scotland invaded England several times.  Her former stepmother Adeliza was also in her corner. For two years, Geoffrey waged war to secure Normandy, always a thorn in the English crown.   It wasn’t until 1138 that Matilda finally set foot in England after eight years.  Her half-brother Robert of Gloucester now switched sides, accusing Stephen of trying to kill him.  It wasn’t until 1141 that Matilda’s forces defeated and captured King Stephen at the Battle of Lincoln.  Now a prisoner, he was deposed as King.  When she arrived in London, the city was ready to welcome and support her coronation.  It was Matilda’s moment of triumph but it was short-lived. Matilda had the crown within her grasp so what went wrong?

 
Stephen’s Queen, Matilda, pleaded with the Empress for his release but was refused.  In response, she raised an army to put her husband back on the throne.  The city of London asked Matilda to halve their taxes.  Again she refused and with good reason but this didn’t sit well.  To be a Queen regnant, Matilda had to take on the characteristics of a King and that just wasn’t acceptable.  She was seen as unwomanly.  If Matilda had been a man, no one would have thought twice about her actions. Apparently they expected Matilda to rule with more compassion. Because of Matilda’s actions, the city of London closed its gates to her and the civil war was reignited in June of 1141.  By November, Stephen was free in exchange for Robert of Gloucester who had been captured and the war raged on.  In 1148, Matilda finally returned to Normandy after the death of Robert of Gloucester.  There she remained in Rouen until her death 1167 at the age of 65.

After waging war for a decade for her right to wear the crown, Matilda had to settle for her eldest son Henry succeeding to the throne after her cousin’s death in 1153.  But even in defeat, Matilda triumphed.  She was her son Henry’s confidante and advisor until her death.  But her ‘reign’ was used as evidence for four hundred years that women weren’t meant to rule.

Sources:

Helen Castor – She-Wolves: The Women Who Ruled England before Elizabeth, Harper Collins, 2011

Antonia Fraser – Warrior Queens: The Legends and the Lives of the Women Who Have Led Their Nations in War, Anchor, 1990

Elizabeth Norton – She Wolves:  The Notorious Queens of Medieval England, The History Press, 2010

Guest Author Gillian Bagwell on Tudor Banquets and Sugar as Art

I'm pleased to welcome author Gillian Bagwell back to Scandalous Women. I've had the pleasure of meeting Gillian and getting to know her at the Historical Novel Society conferences over the past three years.  Not only is she a fabulous writer but she is also one of the funniest women that I have ever met.  And a talented actress to boot! Her new book VENUS IN WINTER is about one of the most fascinating women of the Elizabethan era, Bess of Hardwick which was just published last week.  I urge everyone to go out and buy a copy to learn more about this fascinating woman.

Sugar was introduced to England in the middle ages, and was originally used medicinally, to treat coughs and colds. It was also believed to help digestion and began to be served at the end of grand feasts, frequently in the form of candied aniseeds.

Brandenburg Gate in Sugar

 

By the Tudor era, sugar was cheaper than it had been, but still expensive. In 1547, a pound of sugar cost ninepence, about one and a half times the daily pay of a skilled laborer such as a shipwright. As sugar was thus a status symbol, creating confectionary  became a skill that even wealthy ladies were proud to have. Since sumptuary laws decreed how much people were permitted to spend on food, providing a bounty of expensive sugary delicacies was a way to show off wealth.

Banqueting House, Studley Royal Park

 



By the mid-sixteenth century, elaborate meals were being concluded with "banquets," a whole course of sweets and spiced wine that might only be served to the important guests at the top table. Spices were also expensive, and were also considered to have medicinal purposes and aid digestion.

 

Since meals in noble households were usually served on trestle tables that were broken down afterward, banquets were frequently served in a different place than the main meal, and it became fashionable to have elaborate "banqueting houses" for this purpose, sometimes on the roof or a little distance from the house near a river or pond, where the guests could enjoy the view and fresh air.

 

Gibside Banqueting House

 

This dessert course might include candied fruit, jellies, thick marmalade, comfits  (sugar-covered seeds, spices, or fruits) , sweet wafers and biscuits, and gingerbread and other cakes. Sugar paste and marzipan were also colored and formed into elaborate and fanciful items, such as eggs that broke open to reveal yellow yolks, strips of bacon, or fruit and nuts. Wood, pewter, or stone molds could be homemade, or purchased ready-made. 

Sugar or marzipan might also be used to create "subtleties," or decorations for the tables. These could be buildings, images of saints, or statues of the guests of honor. A recipe book of the time gives instructions for molding sugar paste into "Rabbets, Pigeons, or any other little birde or beaste." Cardinal Wolsey's 1527 feast in honor of the French ambassadors featured sugar castles, St. Paul's Cathedral, animals, birds, a chessboard with chess pieces, and little human figures fighting with swords and crossbows, dancing, and jousting.  This kind of sugarwork required a lot of skill and careful handling.

Sugar paste could be colored with flowers, spices, or other vegetable matter. Saffron produced a yellow color, cinnamon and ginger various shades of brown, young wheat or barley blades made green, and carrots could produce blood red.

Sometimes the banquet was served on glass-like plates, cups, and other dishes molded from sugar  paste, "wherewith you may furnish a table [and] when you have done, eate them up. A pleasante thing for them that sit at the table." These dishes might be elaborately painted with flowers, scenes, or "grotesques," the fanciful representations of human figures or faces or animals intertwined with foliage and flowers that was very popular in Tudor England.  Sometimes guests were encouraged to take the edible tableware home.

The Tudors considered some of the sugary luxuries that were commonly servced at banquets to have aphrodisiac properties, and perhaps they did, especially in combination with the vast amounts of wine consumed. Some of the sweetmeats were provocatively named. "Kissing comfits" were popular, and breast-shaped "Spanish paps" made of sweetened cream might titillate the guests at a sumptous banquet. Even the Cardinal d'Este decorated his table with sugar representations of Cupid, Venus, and Bacchus.

It was probably inevitable that all this excess sometimes led to disaster. At a 1606  feast at Hatfield House, the Danish King Christian IV rose to dance in a masque but fell down and was carried to bed, "which was not a little defiled" by the "wine, cream, jelly, cakes, spices, and other good matters" on his clothes. The pageant went on, but other performers had also eaten and drunk too much, and the performance faltered to an end while the ladies playing Hope and Faith "were both sick in the lower hall."

 

Gillian Bagwell's novel about Bess of Hardwick, VENUS IN WINTER, was released on July 2. To find links to Gillian's other posts related to the book, please follow her on Twitter @gillianbagwell, on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/gillianbagwell, or visit her website, www.gillianbagwell.com.

Empress Theodora

I have been fascinated with the story of the Empress Theodora for years.  I knew that she was an actress who’d caught the eye of the Emperor Justinian I but that was really all I knew apart from the amazing mosaics of her (an early form of portraiture).  Unfortunately my eye wandered to other fascinating Queens of the East, Zenobia, and Cleopatra and that trio of Roman Empresses of the early Christian era, Livia, Messalina and Agrippina. However, last year when I was invited to participate in H2’s series HOW SEX CHANGED THE WORLD (which recently aired) my interest in Theodora was once again.  She was actually one of the women that I was supposed to talk about but it ended up not happening.  Time passed and I once again forgot about Theodora until yesterday when I was killing time in Barnes and Noble looking at all the books that I wish that I could afford to buy.  After all, one can never have too many books!

I noticed that there was not just one but two historical novels out about Theodora.  The latest being THE SECRET HISTORY:  A NOVEL OF EMPRESS THEODORA by Stephanie Thornton which just came out yesterday.  The other novel was THEODORA:  ACTRESS, EMPRESS, WHORE: A NOVEL by StellaDuffy.   It’s no wonder that Theodora’s story has captured the imagination of writers recently.  As Duffy’s book states in the title, Theodora was an actress and courtesan who became Empress of one of the most powerful empires on earth when she married Justinian I.  It is the classic story of from rags to riches with a sad ending.  It many ways, Theodora’s story reminds me of the story of Eva Peron, another actress who became the wife of a powerful man whose legend ended up overshadowing that of her husband.

Of course when writing about Theodora, one has to sift through the legends and scurrilous rumors to find what the truth is. The main historical sources for Theodora’s life are the works of her contemporary Procopius who offers a contradictory portrait of the Empress.  His initial history was complimentary but later on he wrote The Secret History which wasn’t published for over a thousand years.  It appears that Procopius had become disillusioned with Justinian and Theodora and did a hatchet job on the royal couple.  He depicts Justinian as cruel, venal, and incompetent and paints an even worse portrait of Theodora.  Unlike his portrayal of her in The Buildings of Justinian where he praises her piety and her beauty, in The Secret History  Procopius offers the reader a more salacious portrait of a woman who is both calculating and shrewish,  vulgar and insatiable.   The truth lies somewhere in between those two portraits.

Theodora came from humble origins. She was born in Syria in 497 AD.  Her father, Acacius, was a bear trainer for the Green faction in the Hippodrome in Constantinople, her mother was a dancer and an actress, so Theodora was born in a trunk so to speak.  Life was touch, but full of excitement, the crowds at the Hippodrome cheering the gladiators, the dancers and the animal acts.  But life became even rougher when her father died.  They didn’t have health insurance or benefits that we enjoy in our modern age.  Although her mother remarried, her new husband was not offered was not offered her previous husband’s position.  The family was left destitute but Theodora’s mother was a clever woman.  She sent Theodora and her sisters to the Hippodrome wearing garlands as supplicants to the crowd.  The Blue faction took them under their wing to score points over the Green faction rejected them.  From then on, Theodora would be a supporter of the Blue faction.

Soon Theodora and her sisters were performing themselves.  They performed gymnastics routines at the Hippodrome and Theodora performed comic monologues.  Theatre in the 6^th Century was considered to be the embodiment of immorality and it would later be banned entirely. Later on when she became Empress, there were rumors that Theodora worked as a prostitute in a brothel servicing low-status costumers, that she once entertained 40 lovers in one night, making use of all three orifices and that she complained that she wished the holes in her nipples were bigger so that she could have a fourth!  It was said that she ‘gave her youth to anyone she met, in utter abandonment.’ What is true is that Theodora became famous for her portrayal of Leda and the Swan.  She would take off as many clothes as the law would allow, while attendants scattered barley on her body, and then geese would pick up the barley in their bills.  She also entertained nobles at banquets and no doubt took lovers to supplement her meager income as an actress.

At the age of 16, Theodora became the mistress of a Syrian official named Hecebolus for 4 years, traveling with him to Egypt but he became abusive and abandoned her.  At some point, she converted to Monophysite Christianity (they believed that Christ was divine, not half human and half divine) before returning to Constantinople.   She changed professions, taking a house near the palace, where she worked as a wool spinner.   According to tradition, Justinian espied her at her spinning wheel and fell in love at first sight.  However, she may have met him through the star ballet-dancer for the Blue faction named Macedonia who worked as an informer for Justinian.

Justinian was 40 when they met, devout and studious.  He fell in love with her because of her wit, beauty, and amusing character but he was prohibited from marrying her.  Apparently there was some law preventing patricians from marrying actresses.  While his uncle Justin I was willing to amend the law, his wife the Empress Euphemia was against the idea. Apparently it brought up old memories; Euphemia had been a slave before she became Empress.  Once Euphemia passed on in 525 AD, Justin was free to repeal the law.  The law freed truly penitent actresses from all blemishes and restored them to their pristine state.

Theodora soon showed what she was made during what came to be known as the ‘Nika’ riots. In 532, the Blues and the Greens started a riot in the Hippodrome during a chariot race.  The rioters had many grievances, some of which stemmed from Justinian and Theodora’s own actions.  The rioters set many public buildings on fire, and proclaimed Hypatius (who was the nephew of the former emperor Anastasius I) as the new emperor.  Unable to control the mob, Justinian and his officials suggesting fleeing the capitol but Theodora declared that she would not flee.   She pointed out the significance of dying as a ruler rather than living in exile or hiding.   She famously declared that ‘purple makes a fine shroud.’  Because of her speech, Justinian ordered his troops to storm the Hippodrome, killing 30,000 rebels including Hypatius.  After his victory, Justinian gave Theodora real power, making her his co-ruler and the most powerful woman in the Byzantine Empire.  He never forgot that his was Theodora who had saved his throne. Theodora became Justinian’s right-hand, and his honored counselor. 

Together she and Justinian rebuilt and reformed Constantinople, building bridges and aqueducts, bridges and more than 25 churches including the Hagia Sophia. Byzantine Empire prospered for 19 years under their rule.  As Empress, Theodora used her power to close brothels, crack down on forced prostitution, she opened a convent where ex-prostitutes could support themselves, made rape punishable by death, forbade killing wives for committing adultery, also expanded the rights of women in divorce and property ownership.  She also forbade the exposure of infants, and gave mothers some guardianship rights over their children. Procopius wrote that she was naturally inclined to assist women in misfortune. As a result of her efforts, women in the Byzantine Empire had far more status than women in the Middle East and the rest of Europe.

According to Procopius, the Imperial couple made all senators prostrate themselves before them whenever they entered their presence.   They carefully supervised the magistrates, much more so than the previous Emperors, no doubt to reduce bureaucratic corruption. Like any good Empress, she got rid of her enemies. She was very conscious of the fact that if Justinian died before her, she would be in a very precarious position since they didn’t have children.  She had one illegitimate daughter from a previous arrangement. She married her family off advantageously.  Her niece married Justinian’s nephew and came to the throne after Justinian’s death. She also did what she could to protect the Monophysite Christians in the Empire.

Theodora died of cancer on June 28 548 at the age of 48. Her body was buried in the Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople.  Justinian was bereft at her death.  So powerful was her influence over him that he worked to bring harmony between the Monophysite Christians and the Chaledonians. Today, Theodora is considered a saint by the Greek Orthodox Church and a pioneer of feminism.

Beautiful Forever – The Life of Madame Rachel

Everyday women are inundated with advertisements promising to remove fine lines, miracle creams to make skin youthful and dewy, to turn back the hands of time.  We all know that there is no miracle cure for aging, but we continue to buy, and to seek out new beauty treatments like Botox, chemical peels and fillers.  But none of this is new; women (and men) have been seeking the fountain of youth since the dawn of time.  However, in the 19^th century, with the advent of daily newspapers and the increase in literacy, a new way was found to reach the masses, advertising.  And no one did it better than Madame Rachel, a con artist who operated a prominent beauty salon, from which she personally guaranteed her clients who used her fabulous preparations, everlasting youth.  Among the money items for sale were magnetic rock water that was allegedly from the Sahara desert and water from the River Jordan in Israel.  For almost ten years, Madame Rachel had Victorian women fooled.  But it wasn’t just beauty treatments that Madame Rachel was offering her clients.  

At the time of her first trial for fraud in 1868, Madame Rachel’s case exposed not only the thinly veiled anti-Semitism that was rampant in Victorian London, but also their fears of independent women running successful businesses.  She threatened everything that the Victorians held dear about the role of women, who were supposed to be chaste, unpainted angels who needed protection.  Whores, actresses and loose women wore make-up and cared about their appearances, not the average Victorian housewife, or so they thought.  Her trial exposed women’s dirty, little secret, that they were willing to pay a high price in their pursuit of beauty.

In the 19^th century, cosmetics were a lucrative growth business; companies such as Rimmel were founded. But the industry was still in its infancy, and products were crude, and colors were limited.  Make-up consisted of rouge and powder, red salve for the lips and kohl for the eyes but any respectable woman who used more than face powder was given disapproving looks. Queen Victoria, in particular, was appalled at the idea of women using cosmetics. Female beauty was only supposed to be achieved by washing with soap and water, and exposure to fresh air, but not too much dancing as it gave an undignified flush to the cheeks. There was such a general hostility to make-up that most women concocted their cosmetics at home using homemade recipes with ingredients such as arsenic.  Only those with money could afford face washes and creams offered by proprietors such as Madame Rachel.

Madame Rachel claimed to be a woman of social standing who was distantly related to the great French tragedienne Rachel Felix.  In reality, she was born Sarah Rachel Russell sometime between 1806 and 1814. She grew up poor and illiterate in the East End of London, but what she lacked in formal education, she more than made up with street smarts.  According to biographers, Rachel was married to an assistant chemist in Manchester, and then later in 1844 to a man named Jacob Moses who deserted her.  She later moved in with a man named Philip Levinson (also known as Levy or Leverson), whose name she subsequently took.  Leverson was the father of six of her children.  Initially Rachel had a fried fish and potatoes stall in the slums of Clement St. Danes, supplementing her income as a dealer in second hand clothes, before she hit on a more lucrative line of work, selling cosmetics.  

She came armed with a sob story guaranteed to win sales, claiming that she’d been ill with a fever and her beautiful locks were shorn.  A medical man told her that he would give her a lotion which would make not only make her hair grow back, but even more beautiful and luxurious than before.  The product worked and Madame was launched into the beauty business.  With the help of her oldest daughter also named Rachel, she wrote a pamphlet called Beautiful for Ever, which laid out her philosophy of beauty.  The pamphlet was only 24 pages and could only be purchased exclusively at Madame Rachel’s.

Although she may not have had a formal education, she was a natural when it came to marketing her products and her business.  Madame Rachel advertised her exotic sounding wares in publications like The Times of London, the Court Journal and Debrett’s peerage, places where her target audience, wealthy women, would see them and become intrigued.  Next she secured premises in Bond Street (No. 47A) for her shop.  She claimed to not only be a ‘purveyor to Her Majesty the Queen,” but also Empress Eugenie, one of the most admired beauties of the era.  She also jacked up the prices, proving that even in the Victorian age; people believed that if something was incredibly expensive, it must be good.  To make it even more alluring, Madame Rachel advertised that nowhere else could women obtain the products that she offered.   Everyone loves exclusivity.  She also claimed she and her daughters were much older than they were as proof of efficacy of her products.  If Madame Rachel were alive today, she would probably be the CEO of a global advertising firm.

Women would arrive at her door heavily veiled so that no one would recognize them.  Once inside, Madame made sure that they were surrounded by luxury.   The premises were decorated with Middle Eastern opulence, the scent of sandalwood and incense in the air, their every need attended to by young women in flowing robes.  And at the center of it all was Madame Rachel, dressed all in black, like a spider luring its prey.  For her more discreet patrons, Madame Rachel also made house calls. The season which stretched from about the beginning of February until mid-July was her busiest time. According to her most recent biographer Helen Rappaport, Madame Rachel raked in thousands of pounds on a weekly basis, which eventually bought her a box at Covent Garden, a fine carriage and a pair of horses. Madame Rachel didn’t just spend her money on herself; she used the money to send her younger daughters and sons to school in Paris so that they could obtain the education that she never had.  Her eldest son David was attending medical school in London.

Madame Rachel offered an array of treatments all with suitably luxurious and exotic names.  Items such as Rejuvenating Jordan water which sold for 10 to 20 guineas a bottle (about £1,000 today), Circassian Golden Hair Wash, Magnetic Rock Dew for Removing Wrinkles, Royal Arabian Face Cream, and Honey of Mount Hymetus wash, along with perfumes, oils and spices that she imported at great expense from Armenia, Circassia and Madagascar.  But her most sought after treatment was what she called ‘enameling.’  Anyone who has seen portraits of Queen Elizabeth I probably have a good idea of what the treatment entailed.  Her customers craved a white, porcelain complexion not just on the face but also the bosom and shoulders.   The price for this treatment was a mere 20 guineas.  The treatment was actually quite simple.  Madame would use various lotions to remove facial hair, followed by an alkaline toilet wash to cleanse the skin, and then she would fill in the lines and depressions on the face with a thick white paste.  A little powder to set the paste and a touch of blush completed the process.

But beauty treatments weren’t all that Madame Rachel offered.  She also had a neat little sideline going as a so-called marriage broker, as well as procurer.  Lonely widows and spinsters would come to Madame Rachel for treatments, and then once she had ‘beautified’ them, she offered them a chance at personal happiness but it was all lies. Like con artists since the dawn of time, Madame Rachel exploited the weaknesses of women to make a profit.  She would also encourage her clients to take an Arabian bath and then men would pay money to spy on them through a peep hole.

But her most profitable sideline was in blackmail.  Madame’s treatments cost a fortune, and many of her upper class clients were in debt up to their eyeballs.  Until the Married Women’s Property Act in 1882, a married woman had no money of her own unless she had a forward thinking Papa who made sure that his little darling had an allowance or pin money as part of her dowry.  Most women were not that lucky. They were basically spending their husbands’ money without his permission. Madame Rachel would extend them credit and then once they owed her thousands of pounds, she would try to collect. Since the women were too afraid to tell their husbands the truth, Madame would offer to take their jewels as collateral.  Madame would then take the jewels to a pawn shop and keep the money for herself.  Women were too afraid to take Madame to court because it meant being exposed to ridicule and social humiliation.

In 1868, one of her former clients was finally brave enough to sue Madame for fraud and malpractice.  While Madame was eventually convicted, her client’s reputation was ruined.  The client’s name was Mary Tucker Borradaile, a widow of an Army colonel who had been stationed in India.  She had met Madame Rachel in 1864, and continued to patronize her shop for several years.  As an inducement for Mrs. Borradaile to continue her treatments, Madame Rachel told her that an aristocrat named Lord Ranelagh (Thomas Heron Jones, 7^th Viscount Ranelagh) was in love with her.  Mrs. Borradaile corresponded with Lord Ranelagh solely through Madame Rachel, continuing to give her money for treatments, until in the end she’d even signed over her widow’s pension.  Of course, Lord Ranelagh, a notorious rake and scoundrel, denied that he had ever met Mrs. Borradaile or set foot in Madame Rachel’s shop.

The newspapers and tabloids had a field day with the story.  They printed vicious anti-Semitic cartoons; the case seemed to confirm people’s suspicions about Jews, that they were avaricious and foreign, preying on the good citizens of Britain.  There was so much coverage of the case, with so many slanderous stories, that it would have been impossible for Madame Rachel to receive a fair trial. The case went through two trials before Madame Rachel was convicted.  By the end, the judge clearly believed that she was guilty and made no bones of his opinion in front of the jury.  Madame Rachel nee Sarah Rachel Leverson was sentenced to five years penal servitude, of which she served three years.  Unrepentant, she went back into the beauty business.  Ten years after her first conviction, she was once again convicted of fraud and sentenced to prison where she died in 1880. During her second trial, several of her products were analyzed and found to contain nothing more than water, fullers earth, pearl ash, starch and hydrochloric acid.

Sources:

Margaret Nicholas, The World's Wickedest Women, Octopus Books Limited, London, 1984
Helen Rappaport, Beautiful for Ever: Madame Rachel of Bond Street – Cosmetician, Con-Artist and Blackmailer. Ebrington: Long Barn Books 2010.
The Extraordinary Life and Trial of Madame Rachel at the Central Criminal Court, Old Bailey

Review: The Ashford Affair by Lauren Willig

Title: The Ashford Affair

Author:  Lauren Willig

Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Publication date: 4/9/2013

I have to preface this review by saying that I have had the privilege of getting to Lauren over the past five or six years through RWA conferences and Lady Jane’s Salon. I’m also huge fan of her Pink Carnation series, particularly A Very Turnip Christmas which for some reason she insists on calling The Mischief of the Mistletoe.  She’s not only a fantastic writer, but she’s also an extremely nice person, witty and intelligent.  And if that weren’t bad enough, she wears ridiculously cute dresses.  Seriously, even at eight months pregnant, she’s still adorable. Oh and she bakes as well. It’s absolutely too, too sick-making as Lady Beatrice Gillecote would say. So when I had the opportunity to read Lauren’s first stand-alone historical novel, I couldn’t say no.  Especially once I learned that the book was set during the 1920’s in England and Kenya.  As I’ve mentioned numerous times on the blog, I’m absolutely nuts about the Roaring Twenties.

The Ashford Affair is actually two intertwined stories, a multigenerational tale that spans almost one hundred years.  In 1999, Clementine Evans, known as Clemmie to her family and friends, is an associate in a large Manhattan firm, just shy of making partner.  At the age of 34, she has finally achieved almost everything she’s been working towards—but now she’s not sure it’s enough. Her long hours have led to a broken engagement and, suddenly single; she feels her messy life crumbling around her. At her Grandmother Addie’s ninety-ninth birthday, her step-cousin Jon lets slip hints about a long-buried family secret, leading Clemmie on a journey into the past that could change everything that she thinks she knows about her family. As her life begins to unravel, she discovers secrets about Addie that rock her world.

The second story involved Clemmie’s grandmother Addie.  Orphaned in 1906, Addie is sent to live to with her aunt and uncle into the grand English house called Ashford Park. Scared and lonely, Addie is befriended by beautiful and outgoing cousin, Beatrice. Although they are as different as night and day, Addie and Bea are closer than sisters, partners in crime.  For a while, it seemed like nothing could come between the two of them. But World War I not only changes the face of Europe irrevocably, but also the relationship between the two cousins. Beatrice makes her family proud by landing a Marquess, but her marriage quickly unravels. Addie secretly finds fulfillment in her new job working for the Bloomsbury Review. One day, she becomes reacquainted with Frederick Desborough by chance.  Addie falls hopelessly in love, but Frederick has been emotionally scarred by his experiences in the war.  

I would spoil the rest of the book by revealing more, but I think that one can guess what happens next.  The action soon shifts to Kenya, where Bea is now living after creating a huge scandal in London.  Addie is collateral damage to her cousin’s actions, cut off from her family, and forced to fend for herself. After six years, Bea has invited Addie out to Kenya. Addie sees the trip as her last chance for adventure before she settles down with her rather staid fiancé, a lecturer at King’s College.

I loved a great deal about this book, and what I didn’t love, I liked. Addie had my heart from her the moment that she runs and hides in the closet when her new relatives come to get her. She is a keen observer, with a sharp wit that pops out occasionally.  She grew up in a loving, warm but rather bohemian family in Bloomsbury. It turns out that her father married beneath him to a woman who wrote rather racy novels for the time.  From the very beginning, Addie is made to feel unwanted by her Aunt Vera, who frequently mutters about how blood will tell. When Addie arrives at Ashford Park, her cousin Beatrice who is only a year or so older, immediately adopts her as one would a stray dog. Her older sister Dodo is obsessed with her horses, and younger sister Poppy is a mere toddler when the book opens. Beatrice is not only a free spirit but also somewhat spoilt. As a member of the aristocracy, she’s used to getting her own way and damn the consequences. But she’s also kind to Addie, the only one in the family who makes the effort to treat her as such. How could Addie not love her?

Because Addie is the poor relation, she’s afforded a bit more freedom than her cousin. During the war, Addie allowed to become a nurse, while Beatrice is not.  No one expects Addie to make a good marriage, even Beatrice assumes that she will end up marrying a country vicar. Lauren has a fine eye for not only historical detail but for social commentary as well. Through Addie’s sharp eyes, the reader gets an intimate view of The Bright Young Things who populated London just after the war. Addie only sees the waste of too many people drinking and dancing their lives away instead of taking their experiences during the war and using them to make a difference.  At times, she can come off as a bit of a prig. Like Bea, one wishes that Addie would loosen her girdle a bit, and get in the swing of things. The story gets even more complex when the action moves to Kenya. Addie finds that the British transplants have just brought the party to Africa. While Bea can come across at times as shallow and glib, Willig gives the reader a glimpse into a woman who has been brought up to be beautiful and decorative, and then finds out that it’s no longer enough.

When the story moves into the late 20^th century, that was where it lost me. Unfortunately I didn’t find Clemmie’s story nearly as interesting or as absorbing as Addie and Bea. In fact, the little glimpses that the reader is given of Clemmie’s mother Marjorie and her sister Anna, I found more compelling.  I would have loved to have read more about their lives after the events in Kenya. Maybe there were just too many similarities between Clemmie’s character and Addie. Both women felt like outsiders in their own families, both women have a bit of sharp wit but Clemmie was a little too much of a sad sack for me. I found myself skimming through the sections set during 1999/2000 to get back to Addie and Bea’s story. I wanted to actually see Addie’s office at The Bloomsbury Review not just hear about, and I wanted more insight into Addie and Frederick’s blossoming relationship in Kenya. Although I totally believed in their love story, I wanted to see more of it.

Still there were some moments that I enjoyed, particularly Clemmie arriving in London, tired and worn out, and having to immediately run to a meeting without getting a chance to change. I’m sure quite a few readers could relate to that. I also liked the brief glimpses that we got of her relationship with her mother, and the realization that even her mother had more of a social life than she did.  Frankly I hope Clemmie found a hobby or something to lighten her up a bit.

The book is ultimately a love story, not just between Addie and Frederick or Clemmie and Jon, but Addie and Bea.  It’s a story of female friendship, and how easily it can be shattered through jealously, neglect, and growing apart, but also the strength of that friendship, how it can ultimately be repaired.

Verdict:  This stand-alone is the perfect introduction to Willig’s writing for those readers who might be a bit daunted by The Pink Carnation series. A richly textured historical novel that sweeps the reader from post-war London to the Happy Valley in Kenya and then to millennium era New York City. Willig weaves a stunning tale of sex, secrets and sisterhood. I'm looking forward to seeing what Lauren comes up with next. I've heard rumors that involves the VIctorian era and the Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood.