Gambling History

In doing research for my latest novel, I ran across some interesting information about the history of gambling, a sport that has endured through the centuries.
Ancient man played games of chance, using the knucklebones of sheep as a primitive form of dice. Later, archaeologists uncovered a pair of ivory dice in Egypt, dating before 1500 B.C., proving that the dice of today are much like those used for centuries.
Betting on athletic games at the Roman coliseum drew wagers from rich and poor alike, and later, during the Middle Ages, gambling in all its forms took place in private homes and in city streets.
When first used, cards were a rich man’s game, as each card was stamped from a woodcut. Later, with the invention of the printing press, a deck of cards became readily accessible in every tavern in Europe.
When the English came to the New World, they brought the culture of gambling with them, but the Puritan-led Massachusetts Bay Colony outlawed possession of cards and dice (along with dancing and singing). Later, the rules were relaxed, as long as the game was an innocent one and no money exchanged hands.
In Venice, men and ladies both went to the ridotto, a salon for gambling and other pastimes. Ridotti became very popular in Europe, even serving as forums for the arts. Verdi celebrated the opening of his opera, Rigoletto, in the Ridotto San Moise. In the 1800s, the Doge of Venice closed the ridotti, and they were reopened as state run casinos.
For further reading, a very good book by David Schwartz, titled Roll the Bones, covers every aspect of the history of gambling in Europe and the United States.

Are Contests Worth the Price?

As writers, we’ve all either entered contests or been tempted to. Most contests have an entry fee, and it’s sometimes difficult to justify the expenditure. In addition to the fee, there are shipping expenses, and sometimes, if you final, you have additional expense. More and more contests are going to digital, which makes entering a little easier.
As an author, I’ve been on both sides of the table, judging several contests, and entering them too, throughout my writing career. From the judge’s side, I’ll tell you I’d much rather sit down with a cup of tea and read through entries, than stare at the same monitor I’ve worked at all day. I print out digital entries, because so far I’ve not bought a reader, although I’m looking at tablets.
With earlier manuscripts, my entries didn’t reach the mark. But after many workshops and classes on the craft of writing, I saw a sea-change in the scores.
Now on to the wisdom of entering contests. A writer, unless you’ve won the lottery, should be selective about contests.
First, do a little research to see if this is a legitimate contest or simply a scam. It’s pretty easy to find out. If the contest is sponsored by a legitimate writers’ group, like an RWA chapter or Historical Novel Society, or by a state association like Florida Writers, you know it’s legit.
Next, read the details to see who is judging. Don’t look at the prize money or the award. Except for the most prestigious awards, the prizes aren’t big. The real win, the biggest reward, is that you can use a nice win to catch the eye of an agent or editor. Most admit that contest wins get their attention.
Thirdly, look to see if the contest returns comments, or only scores. If a contest offers feedback, it’s like getting a mini-critique.
An aside, and one worth noting for published and unpublished writers: strangely, there are contests which do not take Advanced Reading Copies. Your professionally-edited book can/must be entered in unpublished, if the release date falls after a certain date. This seems to me a bit unfair to an unpublished author who has to compete with my edited book. I don’t really understand the reasoning for not accepting an ARC.
Google literary awards for your state. I took a chance and entered Florida Book Awards, sponsored by the state Humanities Council and Florida State University. There was a fee, and we had to mail a book to each of the judges, a time-consuming job, but it was worth every minute when I received that Bronze Medallion at the Awards dinner for The Tapestry Shop. Recently, I entered a small local contest. To my surprise, all three finalists’ entries were sent to places like HarperCollins, Medallion, etc. for final judging. Not only that, the contest offered a breakdown of genres, so that my historical wouldn’t be lost in the Mainstream category, or bunched in with SciFi.
To my delight, both my two entries finaled. One went to Medallion, the YA went to HarperCollins for final judging. After reading comments from both editors (one of whom gave me First Place for my historical. I went to work and revised according to their suggestions. No, I didn’t get a contract, but now, in a query letter, I can say “an editor at Medallion gave this story First Place in the final round of judging”. How cool is that? Feedback from an editor, and bragging rights, all for forty-five dollars. This contest, sponsored by a local writers’ group, was opened to non-members, too. So look at local and regional contests. I know, it’s like buying a lottery ticket, but you can’t win without trying.

Face Screens in History

As a child growing up, on cold winter nights, I loved sitting close to the fire. I loved the warmth, the coziness, and sometimes we sat so close that Mother had to tell us to back away. Recently, I found an interesting item that sadly has faded from use. Perhaps others knew of the existence of face screens, but I had never heard of one.
During earlier centuries, when homes were warmed only by fires in a hearth, well-to-do ladies who valued their delicate skin used face screens to protect their face from the heat of the fire. These face screens were made of various materials, much like fans. Face screens could be silk or other fabric, or of more solid material, and were richly decorated. They had handles much like hand mirrors, but longer.
Now, face screens are highly collectible, like these two in the picture, from http://www.twomaisons.com/ in Province, France.

Joyce Elson Moore
http://www.joycemoorebooks.com/

Ladies' Footwear in the 1800s

19th Century Footwear
For my current work-in-progress, I had to research nineteenth shoe fashions, and I learned that during the 1800s, women's shoes became more varied in style than those of men, for the first time (see two-toned shoes in photo to the right, 1860s Balmoral boot).
During Victoria's long period of mourning for Albert, dark shoes came into fashion and remained popular during the latter decades of the century, when women were not supposed to draw attention to themselves. From the images, though, it's clear they found a way to bring attention to a slim ankle, even while wearing the modestly dark colors.
Styles changed with each decade, although boots were pretty much the standard for ladies' footwear. At first, boots had side laces, with sometimes up to sixteen lace holes, like these to the right, (Courtesy Bata Shoe Museum, Toronto). The boots were most often flat-heeled. Later, during mid-century, front lace boots were popular, like the ones in the photo to the right. Later, during the latter part of the century, button boots with openwork were all the craze, allowing the male observer to get a glimpse of the fashionable hosiery worn beneath.
I love shoes, and have too many, as most of us do, but after looking at some of these boots, I almost wish they would come back in fashion, because I love the look, flirty and sensible at the same time.

Lip Color and Lipstick Invention

In ancient civilizations, women crushed colored stones and used them to decorate their faces and lips.
Egyptians used a mixture of dye and iodine, which was sometimes dangerous. Cleopatra, though, was said to wear lip color made by crushing carmine beetles, and adding that dye mixture to a base made of ants. The addition of fish scales added a much-admired shimmery effect.
Later, in medieval Europe, the Church banned the wearing of lipstick. Cosmetics were worn only by prostitutes.
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a pale face and bright red lips came into fashion, and this time a product less dangerous was used. Lip color now was made of beeswax and plant dye.
During Victorian times, when lipstick was once again banned, this time by Queen Victoria, women resorted to drastic measures to redden their lips, such as chewing them, biting them, and even using brandy to bring out the color.
In 1880s Paris, a perfume manufacturer sold the first commercially successful lipstick. The perfume store was the House of Guerlain, established in 1828 on the rue de Rivoli. The lipstick was in the form of pomade, and was made with grapefruit mixed with butter and wax. For the next several decades, the House of Guerlain continued the enterprise, selling their popular cosmetics and perfumes. In the twentieth century, the perfume family was bought out, but even today, production continues. Guerlain products are considered by many to be the best, and alas, some of the priciest cosmetics and perfumes in the world.

Sites for Historical Authors

Like most historical authors, I am always on the lookout for interesting sites (like the one you are presently on), where I can learn more about the way people in the past lived, worked, worshipped, and spent their days. One never knows when, in the process of writing, we will come across a question like Was lipstick invented yet? What kind of underwear did ladies wear back then? What do cartoons have to do with tapestry making? I have shelves full of research books, but sometimes, search as I may, my quest is not answered there. That is when I turn to the internet.
I keep a list of trusted sites, because I frequently give workshops on How to Research for Historicals, like the one I presented last year at RWA National, and what I’ll be giving at the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, ‘Colorado Gold’ conference in September. One site I ran across recently, which offers up a smorgasbord of little-known items from the past, is www.oldandinteresting.com. Another fun site is www.historyundressed.blogspot.com. Have fun browsing these two great sites, and don’t forget to make notes or put the links to them in your favorites.

History of Gold

When thinking about the progress of technology, we think of iron and copper-working, but gold was the first metal widely known and used. Gold became a part of every human culture, not only for its luster but also because of its malleability and its resistance to tarnish.
In Homer’s writings, he mentions gold as the glory of the immortals and a sign of wealth among ordinary humans.
The oldest extant gold treasure map was created around the time of Seti I (1320 B.C.) in Egypt. In the Turin Museum is a papyrus and fragments, the “Carte des mines d’or”. It pictures gold mines, miners’ quarters, and roads to the mines. Some believe it portrays the Wadi Fawakhir region where the El Sid mine is, but like many ancient drawings, the map is a bit elusive and vague.
The "Gold of Troy" treasure hoard, excavated in Turkey and dating to the era 2450 -2600 B.C., showed the range of gold-work from delicate jewelry to a gold gravy boat weighing a full troy pound. This was a time when gold was highly valued, but had not yet become money itself. Rather, it was owned by the powerful and well-connected, or made into objects of worship, or used to decorate sacred locations.
Incas referred to gold as “the tears of the sun”.
The search for gold has fed the imagination of poets and writers, and long after Jason and the Argonauts searched for the Fleece, the promise of wealth drew men West and helped develop a country. The appeal of gold has never dimmed, and now, more than ever, we are reminded that the value of gold may rise and fall through the centuries, but it will never, ever, be worth nothing.

Warming Our Beds through History

In Medieval times, a servant or the woman of the house heated a stone or brick at the fireside, then wrapped it in cloths and carried it quickly to the bed. By the 16th century, people were using pans filled with smoldering embers from the fire itself. The brass or copper warming pan hung by the fire. At bedtime, hot fuel was put inside, and the warmer, carried by its long handle, was rushed to the bed and rubbed between the bed linens.
Some of these warming pans had pierced patterns, and some were elaborately decorated. The piercings allowed oxygen to reach the embers, making the heat last longer, but the bed would smell of fumes and there was always a risk of scorching the linens. Also, in parts of the UK, peat was burned as fuel, which would have made a most unpleasant smell in the bedroom.
In the 19th century, closed warming pans might hold either fuel or hot water. Some of these pans, especially decorative or silver ones, were handed down, generation to generation.
Here is an insight as to the importance of warming pans. It is from Cora Millet-Robinet’s Domestic Economy, 1853.

A copper warming pan is indispensable to a household. Take care to have a big enough quantity of embers, above all some red cinders, when you want to heat a bed. Get it smouldering well before you use it, otherwise the fire will soon go out and the bed will not warm up. You must move the warming pan constantly to avoid scorching the sheets.

Cosmetics in the Past

Makeup, in one form or another, has been used since before the dawn of Christianity. In ancient tombs, archaeologists have found evidence of the use of unguents to hydrate the skin in the hot, dry climate of Egypt. In addition, Egyptians colored the underlid of their eyes with dark green, and blackened their lashes and upper lids with kohl. The ancient Greeks used mulberry juice to color their cheeks and lips, while other civilizations used concoctions made from beet juice or other berries.
In Rome, during the 1st century AD, citizens used kohl, too, along with chalk to whiten their faces, rouge to color lips and cheeks, and pumice to clean their teeth. Persians preferred henna to stain their hair and faces.
During the Victorian era, it was considered vulgar for women to use coloring on their faces, so when a young lady wanted to make a favorable impression on a suitor, she was inclined to pinch her cheeks and dab a little grease on her lips to make them shine.
Ladies were not the only ones to use makeup. Up until the middle of the nineteenth century, men wore rouge, and of course used talcum to whiten their wigs, when those hairpieces were in fashion.
George IV is said to have spent a small fortune on cosmetics, unguents and cologne.
Here are a few cosmetic recipes used in the late 1800s:
For freckle removal, squeeze the juice of chickweed, and add three times that amount of water to the chickweed juice, then bathe the skin ten minutes morning and evening.
To wash the complexion: Take one teaspoon flour of sulphur, and to that, add a wine glass of lime water well shaken. Mix in one-half glass glycerin and a full glass of rose water. Rub on face nightly before bedtime.

Cravats and Croates: History of Men's Ties

Although men may have worn neckwear since ancient times, probably for warmth, the first neckwear is generally traced to the period of the Thirty Years War in the 17th century. Croatian mercenaries, fighting alongside the French, wore small knotted neckerchiefs, like the one pictured to the right. The Croatian word for Crotes was Hrvati.
Parisiennes, enamored with this unfamiliar neckwear, combined the French word for the Croatian nationality, Croates, with Hrvati, and the neckwear became a cravat.
The cravats started a new craze in Europe, and soon both men and women were wearing cravats. Men’s frequently were made of lace, held in place with cravat strings tied in a bow.
During the 18th century, cravats briefly fell out of favor, replaced with a stock, a folded piece of muslin wrapped around a shirt collar. Men wore their hair long, below the shoulder, and tucked the ends into black silk bags worn at the nape of the neck. This was called the bag-wig hairstyle.
In the latter part of the century, cravats again became popular. Around the turn of the century, different methods of tying the cravat came into play, and a book was published, Neckclothitania, which illustrated fourteen ways to tie a cravat. This book was the first to use the word tie in association with neckwear.

Paper, Parchment, and Process

A few weeks ago, I posted an article about writing implements, and to follow up on that, today I’m talking about paper—old and new. Paper has been manufactured since the middle of the eighth century, when the Arabs learned the skill from the Chinese. During the ninth century, Greeks used it, and later, in the late eleventh century, the technique was practiced in Muslim Spain. Later, paper making came to Italy and the Mediterranean, where merchants and notaries kept records of transactions. Paper making spread northward, to England, and by the middle of the sixteenth century, the industry was a prominent part of European economies, although parchment (from animal skins) was still being used.

Paper was usually made from cotton or linen rags, except in the Orient, where they often used silk. The rags were soaked and pounded to a pulp, after which they went into a vat with a solution of water and size. A wooden frame strung with wires was dipped into the mixture and agitated until the fibers fused to form a sheet of paper. This was then placed between sheets of blotting paper and pressed. It could then be trimmed or left with a rough edge. Paper frames often incorporated wire devices (in the form of designs or monograms), which left an image (watermark). Is it any wonder paper was an expensive commodity, made in such a painstaking and time-consuming process?

Early paper was quite resilient, but after books began to be produced, wood was used for making paper, adding an acidity which causes pages to turn brown and eventually to crumble away, making preservation difficult. Now that we have acid-free paper, the pages of a book frequently outlast the bindings.

Historic Writing Tools

I’m fascinated by writing implements, especially older ones in museums. In researching exactly what tools Adam, the poet/musician in my historical novel, The Tapestry Shop, would have used to write his music, I discovered some little known details about old writing methods. Reed pens, like these in their holders at the Louvre, were used on papyrus. Perhaps even more interesting were the cases, which held ink and a tiny sand box to use for blotting the ink. These cases were elaborately decorated, like this to the right, a 13th century writing case with astrological signs and Arabic letters. A scribe stored papers in the empty space.
Later, quill pens came into use. These were made from a flight feather, preferably a primary wing-feather) of a large bird. The hollow shaft acts as an ink reservoir, and because of the flexibility of a quill, it is still preferred by some calligraphers because of its sharp stroke, although now, with paper made from wood pulp, a quill wears down very quickly. For right-handed writers, a feather from the left wing works better because the feathers curve to the right, away from the hand. The feathers, I was pleased to discover, are discarded naturally by the birds during the moulting season. The quills used by medieval scribes bore little resemblance to the feathered quills romanticized in film and sketches. Instead, scribes usually trimmed the barbs or stripped them completely, as they were a nuisance.
An interesting aside on the subject, from the Supreme Court Historical Society: Each day that the U.S. Supreme Court is in session, 20 goose-quill pens, neatly crossed, are placed at the four counsel tables. Because most lawyers appear before the Court only once, they gladly take the quills home as souvenirs. The tradition dates back to the earliest Supreme Court session

Women and Sidesaddles

Women riders on horses, mules, and donkeys have been depicted through the ages, riding both astride and aside (sidesaddle). While the sidesaddle is generally believed to have developed in the 1300s and later, women rode sidesaddle long before that. There are ancient Greek images (right) showing women sitting aside, their feet on a board, as well as the gallo-Roman bronze that shows both feet of the rider on one side of the horse, clearly visible. Goddesses on horseback are frequently shown riding aside. Later, saddles were developed with a horn, which a woman could use to brace herself with one leg (image at right).
Because my latest release, The Tapestry Shop, takes place in the 13th century. Catherine, the heroine, rides both aside and astride. For serious traveling, as she does after joining the Crusades, I have her riding astride. At other times, she rides pillion with Adam, the protagonist.
Even after modesty dictated that women ride aside, some women chose to look askance at such limitations, and rode astride. Extant images of women astride show not only the mistress of Henry II of France, but also Marie Antoinette, and Catherine the Great riding astride. Catherine even commissioned a painting done showing her sitting astride the horse. Even then, she probably knew the painting would make a statement: I can ride, and command, as well as any man.
It’s interesting to note that there are examples of men riding aside, too. During WWII, men rode sidesaddle while laying field cable from the back of a galloping horse.
For further reading, and to see more images of riders in history both aside and astride, go to http://ilaria.veltri.tripod.com/sidesaddle.html .

Hats through the Ages

Hats, both men's and women's, have changed drastically throughout history. Men, of course, wore hats long before they were fashionable for women, although women always wore a head covering. In my new release, The Tapestry Shop, Adam, the protagonist, is introduced in the first chapter wearing his hat “at a rakish angle”, a signal to the readers of his personality. Hats express a bit of the wearer's character, and are a reflection of the culture of the times.
In the early Middle Ages, women began using more substantial headcoverings, and when the Church decreed that women must cover their head when attending mass, hats became more popular, even though a veil sufficed as a proper head covering in church.
Later, around the fourteenth century, ladies’ hats became, to my mind, more glamorous. Built to roughly conform to the shape of a crown, stiffened with bone, and lavishly decorated with pearls and jewels, surely they would catch the eye of any nobleman.
Although we think of straw hats as being a more modern invention, straw headcoverings were actually in use much earlier, especially by farmers and plowmen, most likely for the same reason we wear them today when gardening.
Men’s hats, especially during the Renaissance, became as outlandish as any woman’s hat ever devised. In that same period, women’s hats became an essential part of the wardrobe. Milliners’ shops sprang up, and frequently the proprietor was a woman. Sometimes the shops were owned by more than one woman. Inside, women could try on hats in relative privacy.
I’ve seen artwork depicting women in hats that appear to be the result of a drunken milliner; some hats were half again the height of the wearer, wide-angled productions that must have been an impediment to eating, walking, or even standing still.
Personal experience has taught me that men are fascinated by women in hats. Several years ago, my sisters and I were on a moving stair in an airport. I wore a hat, as I'd recently been told to do by my dermatologist. My sisters were bareheaded. A gentleman, passing the other way on the stairs, commented on the hat, and ended by saying, "Don't let her lose that hat." The next day both my sisters bought hats.
Another time, my husband and I were seated at a gathering. A man, who according to my husband, had been seated behind us, rose to leave. On the way out, he paused at our table, said how much he liked to see women in hats, and went on his way.
If that's not enough to convince you to go out and get yourself a flattering hat, I don't know what will!

Joyce's recent release, The Tapestry Shop, from Five Star/Gale, has been getting favorable reviews, excerpts of which can be seen here .

Jean de Joinville

Jean de Joinville (John) is perhaps the most well-known of medieval chroniclers. Born to noble parents, John received his education at the court of Theobald, Count of Champagne, where he studied reading and writing.
At age sixteen, he want with the count to the French king’s court, and three years later, as the king was organizing the Seventh Crusade, John decided to take up the cross and go with King Louis IX on crusade.
John became close friends with the king, and acted as advisor and confidant. Their friendship continued, but when the king set out on another crusade in 1270, John refused to go, predicting a disastrous outcome.
King Louis died on the crusade, and the pope initiated an inquest for possible canonization. Because of John’s close friendship with King Louis, John appeared as a witness. King Louis, subsequently, was declared a saint.
In John’s later years, at the request of Jeanne of Navarre, queen consort of France, John wrote Historie de Saint Louis, and finished it in 1309. John died in 1317 at age ninety-three, fifty years after the death of his good friend, the now sainted king.

In The Tapestry Shop (October from Five Star/Gale), the heroine, Catherine, vows to join King Louis’ crusade.
“Adam, the women at Orleans … they will meet me at a monastery, a famed place of pilgrimage, where they will pray for the crusaders’ safety before going on to Aigues-Mortes.”
He reined in the mare. His expression conveyed desperation. “Where? What monastery?”
“In Arles. I tried to tell you before.”

The Tapestry Shop has received glowing reviews, excerpts of which can be seen at Joyce's website.

Shoes in History

My current work in progress is set in Venice, and to stick with my subject, today I'm talking about shoes. And Oh what shoes! I saw a pair in a museum in Venice. Just looking made my feet hurt.
In early modern Venice, around the mid-fifteenth to mid-sixteenth centuries, the footwear of Venetian women drew the eyes of every visitor downward, and no wonder. Chopines, the impossibly high clogs considered the latest fashion, were worn by any woman who could afford them, usually courtesans or the wealthy, as they were hardly attire for a cleaning woman or baker's daughter.
The shoes were made of wood or cork, with leather or man-made material for the tops. The platforms were frequently decorated with jewels and extravagant designs, and sometimes tassels hung from the toes.
Women wearing chopines had to be supported either by men or servants so the wearer would not slip or fall as they strolled along the Grand Canal to see and be seen.
There is controversy over just where the style originated; some say it came from China, where the women prided themselves on small feet, an indication of wealth and helplessness. Others argue the fashion came from the Turkish baths, where women wore slightly elevated shoes.
No matter the origin, the fashion eventually died out, and I suppose today spike heels would be considered just as dangerous, especially if strolling on cobbled streets and crossing the Rialto Bridge. Here are directions to making your very own pair of chopines .

Margaret Mitchell Gets "The Call"

Margaret Mitchell, author of Gone with the Wind, was born in Atlanta, Georgia. She attended Smith College, but dropped out when her mother died from the flu epidemic. Margaret then took a job writing for the Atlanta Journal.
When an editor from Macmillan Publishers came to Atlanta, his publicist introduced the two of them. The editor asked Margaret if she had ever written a book, and she said no. He told her that if she ever did, he would like to see it.
Margaret later overheard an acquaintance remarking at the incredulity of Margaret writing a book. Incensed at the woman’s remark, she hurried home, gathered up some envelopes of her writing, and brought them to the hotel to give to the editor, just as he was preparing to leave.
Later, Margaret regretted the impulsive act, and wrote to ask for the manuscript back. However, the editor had already read enough to know he had a winner in his hands. He sent her a check and asked her to write the book. At that point in time, she didn’t have the first chapter written.
In 1936, Gone with the Wind was published. That year, the sales of her book soared, and Macmillan Publishers gave their employees an 18 percent pay raise.
If you get to Atlanta, don’t miss seeing the Margaret Mitchell home, where you can learn more about her and her writing.

Research for Historicals

When crafting historical novels, a writer must first feel grounded in the period, and confidant with the setting and what the characters wear, eat, see, and how they live. That’s a tall order, and takes a lot of time.
In thinking about my upcoming workshop at RWA National in July, where I’ll be getting specific about Researching for Historicals, I realized it could have been a one-day workshop instead of only several minutes. In researching for my October release, The Tapestry Shop, I visited museums in France, where I found artifacts that enriched my novel, set in the thirteenth century. In a museum I saw some of the tools they used in the Middle Ages, as well as everyday items like a lady’s comb. What fascinated me about the comb was that the upper part, where the teeth were attached, was made of tin. This was their mirror. This same comb plays a part in my novel, when Catherine sees her mother’s face in the tin reflection.
Fine, you say. But I can’t make it to London to research my Regency! Not to worry. You can browse parts of the Smithsonian, even online. I keep a list of online sites, set down as to category and time period. When I’m in a hurry, I just throw them in my Favorites folder and sort them later.
Aside from the internet, SCA events, like reenactments, are great places to see what life was really like before modern times. Best of all, keep reading books written by authors who write in your time period. Chances are they have done their homework, and can save you a lot of time, but it never hurts to double-check the facts before sending your book out into the world.