Lynn Bryant Archives - Page 17 of 22 - Lynn Bryant’s Writing with Labradors

28th July 201728th July 2019

The Battle of Talavera, 1809

Sir Arthur Wellesley, later the Duke of Wellington

The Battle of Talavera was fought on this day in 1809 near the town of Talavera de la Reina in Spain. Sir Arthur Wellesley, fresh from his highly efficient victory at Oporto took 20,000 British troops into Spain to join General Cuesta’s 33,000 Spanish troops. They marched up the Tagus valley to meet a French army some 46,000 strong, officially commanded by Joseph Bonaparte but actually under the command of Marshal Victor and General Sebastiani.

Wellesley did not do well in his attempts to cooperate with Cuesta. Not for the first time, the British army found that their Spanish allies were unable to come up with the supplies and transport they had promised. It is not clear whether this was negligence, inefficiency or simply that the supplies were not available, but it left Wellesley’s army in a difficult position with food running out. In his negotiations with Cuesta, there was a language difficulty as Wellesley did not speak Spanish and Cuesta spoke little English and refused to speak French. It is possible there was also a simple clash of culture as Wellesley fumed at what he perceived as inactivity and poor planning on the part of the Spanish.

Nevertheless, some agreement was reached and after days of delay and misunderstanding there was a clash between the French and British armies on 27th July which led to 400 casualties in Donkin’s brigade. To add to Wellesley’s mistrust of his Spanish allies there was a farcical episode during the evening of the 27th when Cuesta’s men fired a volley without orders at some French dragoons. Little damage was done to the French but four Spanish battalions dropped their weapons and fled in panic. Afterwards Wellesley wrote:

“Nearly 2,000 ran off on the evening of the 27th…(not 100 yards from where I was standing) who were neither attacked, nor threatened with an attack, and who were frightened by the noise of their own fire; they left their arms and accoutrements on the ground, their officers went with them, and they… plundered the baggage of the British army which had been sent to the rear.”

Cuesta, deeply embarrassed, sent cavalry to bring the troops back but it did nothing to improve relations between the British and the Spanish.

During the night, Marshal Victor sent three regiments up the hill known as the Cerro de Medellin. Two of them got lost in the dark but the third managed to surprise a brigade of the King’s German Legion which had gone to sleep, apparently believing that they were the second line instead of the first. In a chaotic action in the darkness on the hilltop, General Rowland Hill sent in Stewart’s brigade from the second division to recapture the ground and the French retreated.

At dawn the French artillery began firing, and Wellesley was obliged to pull his men back into cover to avoid major casualties. Ruffin’s division attacked the Cerro de Medellin again in column but the British emerged from cover in line and the French were broken by musket volleys and ran.

After an informal truce when dead and wounded were removed and the French leaders consulted Joseph Bonaparte, a frontal attack was launched against the British 1st and 4th divisions, once again in column. They were routed by the Guards brigade but the Guards pursued too far and ran into the French second line, losing 500 men to artillery fire. Wellesley realised that his centre was broken and brought up the 48th foot to fill the gap in his lines. Mackenzie’s brigade joined them and the French attack was pushed back again, with Lapisse mortally wounded.

In the fictional version of the battle, described in An Unconventional Officer, Major Paul van Daan’s battalion of the 110th fought as part of Hill’s division and were involved in the night battle on the Cerro de Medellin and then in the centre battle. Several field hospitals were set up in and around the town of Talavera, some of them using convents and monasteries and it is in one of these that Anne Carlyon worked as a volunteer alongside Dr Adam Norris as the wounded were brought in.

With his main attack defeated, Victor sent Ruffin’s men into the valley between the Medellin and the Segurilla. Anson’s cavalry brigade was sent to push them back but an undisciplined charge by the 23rd light dragoons ended in disaster in a hidden ravine. The French had formed squares and fought off those cavalry which had managed to negotiate the hazard with considerable losses among the British and Germans.

It was the last French attack of the day. Joseph and Jourdan chose not to send in their reserve and during the night the French melted away leaving behind 7389 dead, wounded and captured soldiers. Allied losses were worse over the two days with the British losing 6268 dead and wounded and the Spanish 1200. Wellesley lost approximately 25% of his forces and in a final horror, wounded men from both sides burned to death when the dry grass of the battlefield caught fire.

Meanwhile, Marshal Soult was moving south, in an attempt to cut Wellesley off from Portugal. Wellesley initially believed that Soult’s had only 15,000 men and moved east to block it but Spanish guerrillas intercepted a message from Soult to Joseph confirming that Soult had 30,000 men. Fearing that his line of retreat was about to be cut by a larger French force, Wellesley sent the newly arrived Light Brigade on a mad dash for the bridge at Almaraz. Craufurd’s men arrived just ahead of Soult and Wellesley withdrew his army across the mountains and organised his defence of Portugal. His hard fought victory brought him the title of Viscount Wellington of Talavera.

Historians disagree about Wellesley’s problems with the Spanish. Some consider the campaign a failure despite the victory and cite the failure of the Spanish to supply Wellesley’s army as the reason. Wellesley certainly believed that the Spanish made promises which they failed to keep. However, the condition of Spain at that time may well have made it impossible to provide the necessary food and transport and the personal difficulties between Cuesta and Wellesley certainly did not help. There were also political rumblings, with suggestions that Wellesley might be given control of the Spanish army and Cuesta was undoubtedly upset by the idea although it does not seem that it originated from Wellesley himself. Wellesley was cautious from the start about his Spanish adventure, citing the fate of Sir John Moore’s army during the campaign of 1808 and his determination not to allow his route back to Portugal to be cut off made him wary.

On the whole, it was probably not the time for an all out invasion of French-controlled Spain. Wellesley’s original brief had been to defend Portugal but his army was not yet the formidable fighting force which he later led to victory at Salamanca and Vitoria. The severity of his losses made his retreat a sensible choice and the time he spent consolidating in Portugal put him in a far better position to resume the campaign.

16th July 20178th October 2017

Jewish Museum in Berlin

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”36280141145″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]

Jewish Museum in Berlin, August 2017 – a review by Lynn Bryant

The Jewish Museum in Berlin was one of a list of places we wanted to visit while we’re here, and it just happened to be the first we picked. We had several other places on that day’s itinerary and we made it to none of those because the Jewish Museum kept us going all day long.

The buildings themselves are fascinating. The entrance is in the Collegienhaus, the last baroque palace in the Friedrichstadt area of Berlin, a protected building in it’s own right. Once inside, the permanent exhibitions are housed in the Libeskind building, which zigzags with a titanium zinc facade and is open to interpretation as to what Daniel Libeskind, the American architect intended to represent.

I found the building itself slightly disturbing. For some reason I felt at times as though I had become caught in an Escher maze with a bewildering variety of levels, sloping floors and unexpected corners. The building itself seems to be part of the exhibitions, demonstrating the sense of displacement and confusion of the history of Jewish people in Berlin. But it isn’t the building that I will remember in years to come. It is the variety, the depth and the sheer volume of the information contained in the exhibitions.

The various galleries take the visitor through the history of the Jews in Germany from earliest mentions through to thriving communities in towns and cities. All to often these were disrupted by violent pogroms where people were killed, tortured and driven into exile. The impressive thing about the German Jewish community, looking at some of the episodes in it’s history, is that it survived as well as it did coming into the twentieth century.

How many people know about Gluckel of Hameln who was a Jewish businesswoman and diarist in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century? Anyone? I certainly didn’t, but the section devoted to her is completely amazing, with maps showing not only her business interests but the way she married off her many children to advantage. Her story is definitely on my list to read, she is a woman I could write about.

The story of the rise of Hitler, the holocaust and the subsequent fate of the Jews in Europe is very well known. Married to a Jewish man, I always find exhibitions like this very moving and at times quite distressing. This one covered not only the events of the war but some of the war crimes trials which followed it. Most of this was already known to me which did not make it any less interesting or emotional.

What I didn’t know was very much about the history of German anti-Semitism through the nineteenth century and early twentieth century. Reading the long list of events and acts against Jewish inclusion into German society I was slightly shocked. At the same time, I felt as though it put the rise of the Nazis into perspective for me as nothing else had. Suddenly it became very clear how Hitler was able to tap in to this traditional suspicion of the Jews to create the scapegoat he needed.

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”35447096064″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”] This museum hid nothing and excused nothing and held nothing back and I have an enormous respect for it’s honesty. There is so much there, we quickly gave up any idea of moving on to other museums, went for a break in the cafe and then returned to do the rest of the exhibition properly and it was well worthwhile. Everything is translated into English, films and visual exhibits have English subtitles and there is a very good audio guide which can be borrowed. I came away with a strong sense of having learned a lot about a subject that I thought I knew fairly well and that is always the sign of a good museum for me.

A bonus was the temporary exhibition entitled Cherchez la Femme which presented a wide range of ideas and views regarding women’s head and body coverings in both a religious and secular context. The exhibition looked at historic and modern day attitudes in various religions and gave a balanced and often provocative view of how much choice a woman has over how she dresses depending on where and how she lives. It was completely fascinating and one of the highlights of the museum, genuinely causing me to rethink some of my own positions on this.

This was one of the best museum visits I’ve had in a very long time. I’ve now got a long list of new subjects to research and read about and a lot of new ideas burbling around in my brain. And it was only day one of our trip. I was worried I’d be exhausted by day three…

10th July 201710th October 2017

The Battle of Fuentes d’Onoro: An Uncommon Campaign – Book Three in the Peninsular War Saga

An Uncommon Campaign, 110th at the Battle of Fuentes d'Onoro

Fuentes d’Onoro, May 1811

The battle of Fuentes d’Onoro was a near miss for Wellington’s army — The battle of Fuentes D’Onoro took place in 1811

Wellington had initially taken up a reasonably strong position on the line of the Dos Casas, a tributary of the Agueda River. Although the stream itself was insignificant, the section in front of the Allied left ran through a significant ravine that would effectively prevent any French attack on this part of Wellington’s troops. His right was not as strong. As the Dos Casas climbed into the hills the valley was less pronounced and provided less protection. The British position ended at the village of Fuentes de Oñoro, which climbed up from the river to the top of the ridge, and was itself a very defensible position. To the south, however the ravine disappeared and it would be very possible for the French to outflank the British.
With his troops in preliminary positions, Wellington summoned the three light division commanders.
“They’re on their way,” he said without preliminaries. “Marching down from Ciudad Rodrigo. We’ll see where he places them and then look at our positions.”
“If we get time,” Paul said.
His commander eyed him with a forbidding expression. “Have you something useful to say, Colonel van Daan or are you just making sure we all know that your new command is not going to stop you questioning my orders any time you feel like it?”
“Not questioning, sir, more of a comment. You already know we could have done with a bit more time, but we’ll manage. Where do you want us?”
Wellington studied him and then gave a small grim smile. “Out on the road initially, give them a hard time as they approach. I’m sending out four cavalry regiments as well. No major engagements and don’t take any risks, I will need your men intact for this battle, we’re short enough as it is. Have you heard me, Colonel van Daan?”
“Loud and clear, sir. Getting better at it all the time.”
Wellington shook his head. “I can’t wait until Craufurd gets back, he approved this but that’s because he’s forgotten what you’re like. You’re going to give him a seizure.”
“No, he’s easily as tough as you, sir, and I haven’t given you one yet.” Paul glanced at Drummond. “How do you want to do this, George?”
Drummond looked at him and smiled slightly. “Was that an attempt at tact, Paul? Why don’t Beckwith and I take the north side and you bring up the south with the cavalry, the ground on that side will suit them better. We’ll meet back before Fuentes once they’ve made camp.”
Paul nodded. “Sounds good. Sir, we could do with some fast riders to keep us in touch with each other. I can use some of my ensigns but frankly they’d be more use with their men…”
“I’ll get Julian Sanchez to lend you some of his horsemen they know the countryside.” Wellington eyed the three men. “I thought Craufurd would be here in time for this. And he still might make it, he must be very close. Which is why I haven’t appointed a temporary commander.”
There was a brief silence which extended and became difficult. Still nobody spoke. Paul took a deep breath. “I’m glad you shared that, sir, because I’ve been thinking you’d done that just to make my introduction to commanding a brigade more interesting.”
Beckwith gave a splutter of laughter, and Paul glanced at Drummond and saw that he was smiling too. He turned his gaze back to Wellington and for the first time during the briefing there was genuine amusement in the blue grey eyes.
“Colonel there are four of us here and not one of us is in any doubt that if something gets difficult out there you are going to start yelling orders without any thought for rank or protocol. I first saw you do it aged twenty-two at the battle of Assaye when you bullied poor Colonel Maxwell into going into battle ahead of orders and you had been promoted to captain at that point for approximately twenty-four hours. If that happens I trust Colonel Drummond and Colonel Beckwith to have the experience and common sense to judge for themselves whether to join you, ignore you or punch you, and they have my express permission to do any of those three. Get out of here and keep me informed.” From “An Uncommon Campaign’ by Lynn Bryant (Book Three of the Peninsular War Saga)

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”37522516982″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]

The battle of Fuentes De Onoro took place at the beginning of May 1811. After the retreat from Talavera in 1809 and then the successful battle of Bussaco in 1810, Wellington had kept most of his army behind the lines of Torres Vedras and used the time to train and recruit and recover from the mixed fortunes of the Spanish campaign. The exception was the light division under the brilliant but irascible General Robert Craufurd, who spent the time guarding the border, constantly engaging the enemy in skirmishing, holding the line with men who were fast becoming the acknowledged elite of Wellington’s army.

Marshal Massena, unable to breach the formidable Anglo-Portuguese defences and unwilling to risk too many of his men trying, held on desperately in lands scorched and left bare by the retreating British. By early 1811 it was clear that he could hold out no longer. His army was starving and exhausted and the reinforcements he had asked for were nowhere in sight. It was time to retreat.

Initially, Massena hoped to make for the Mondego valley which had escaped Wellington’s scorched earth policy and where food might be found for his starving men. But the Anglo-Portuguese army were in hot pursuit and no way could be found across the river in time. Fighting a skilful and desperate rearguard action, Massena retreated back to the Spanish border.

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”35004628094″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]There were several great fortress towns along the Spanish-Portuguese border and in order to plan and execute an invasion of Spain safely, Wellington knew he needed to take possession of all of them. The most formidable on the Portuguese side was at Almeida, and it was the last stronghold in Portugal held by the French. Wellington besieged the city and Massena, his army finally fed and beginning to recover, marched to relieve it. Having surveyed the ground, Wellington chose to take up a position along a line running through the little Spanish village of Fuentes D’Onoro.

Supplies were crucial in this stage of the conflict. The French would have limited access to supplies whereas Wellington was well supplied and could hold out longer. He had the choice of leaving his line of retreat exposed in order to cover all routes to Almeida or of covering his retreat, which was usually his preferred option but giving the French a possible way through.

Fuentes D’Onoro was a cluster of buildings on a slope with narrow cobbled streets and walled gardens. It was well known to the men of Craufurd’s light division who had often been quartered there during their time on the border. Many of the villagers were known personally to them. With the people evacuated to a refugee camp, the British took up their positions. The Anglo-Portuguese army had 34,000 infantry, 1,850 cavalry, and 48 guns, while the French had 42,000 infantry, 4,500 cavalry, and 38 guns. Massena had asked for reinforcements from Bessieres in the north, and Bessieres had come himself but with so few men that the reinforcements were pointless. Wellington commanded six infantry divisions, Charles Ashworth’s independent Portuguese brigade, and three cavalry brigades along with some artillery.

On 3 May, Masséna launched a frontal assault against the British-Portuguese pickets holding the barricaded village, while bombarding the British-Portuguese on the heights east of the village with heavy artillery. The battle in the centre of the village went on throughout the day, with French soldiers of Ferey’s and Marchand’s divisions clashing with the British 1st and 3rd Divisions.

At first, the British-Portuguese were driven back under immense pressure, but a charge that included men of the 71st Highland Light Infantry reclaimed the streets and buildings lost earlier in the day. As the sun went down, the French withdrew and the village remained in British hands, with the former suffering 650 casualties against only 250 for the British.

Both sides spent 4 May recovering their dead and wounded from the streets of the village. An informal truce was held and men from the two armies met across the Dos Casas brook to exchange food and tobacco and play card games. When officers intervened, the French organised a series of intimidating parades to impress their enemy. The English played football.

Meanwhile, French reconnaissance had discovered Wellington’s weakness. [slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”35004637284″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]His right flank was weakly held by a unit of Spanish partisans near the hamlet of Poco Velho. The French attacked at dawn on 5 May, concentrating on Wellington’s right flank where the Spanish crumbled. Allied cavalry held their positions with great courage but the 7th Division was left exposed. Masséna launched a heavy attack on the weak British-Portuguese flank, led by Montbrun’s dragoons and supported by the infantry divisions of Marchand, Mermet, and Solignac. Two 7th Division battalions were badly mauled by French light cavalry and Wellington needed to send reinforcements to save the 7th Division from annihilation. Defeat looked possible, but Wellington had reserves in place and he sent in Robert Craufurd’s light division along with British and German cavalry.

On the threatened British-Portuguese right flank, the elite Light Division, well supported by cavalry and artillery, made a textbook fighting withdrawal. With very few casualties, they covered the retreat of the 7th Division and fell back into a stronger position selected by Wellington. During the retreat, whenever French artillery ventured too close, the British cavalry charged or feinted a charge. This allowed the infantry time to retreat out of range. If the French horsemen pressed the outnumbered British cavalry back, the British-Portuguese infantry formed squares and, their volleys drove off the French.

It was an extraordinary display of military discipline and precision and a tribute to the genius of Robert Craufurd, who for all his reputation of a rude, over-sensitive disciplinarian who was disliked by many of his officers, could do anything with his enlisted men, who would follow him to hell and back for a word of approval. The skill of the light division and the courage of the highly outnumbered Allied cavalry saved Wellington, who had undoubtedly made mistakes that day, from what might have been a defeat, and brought instead a victory.

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”33808691611″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]Masséna’s main aim was still to secure Fuentes de Oñoro. He sent forward massed columns of infantry from Ferey’s division. The village, filled with low stone walls, provided excellent cover for the British line infantry and skirmishers, while the French were severely restricted in the little narrow streets. At first, the French had some success, wiping out two companies of the 79th Highland Regiment and killing the regiment’s commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Philips Cameron. But a counterattack chased Ferey’s men out of the town.

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”33808693161″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”] launched a second attack on the town. This time, it was led by three battalions of grenadiers. Again, the British fell back as Drouet threw in about half of the battalions from both Conroux and Claparède’s divisions, managing to take almost the entire town.

In response, Wellington counterattacked with units from the 1st and 3rd Divisions, plus the Portuguese 6th Caçadores and led by the 88th Connaught Rangers. This broke Drouet’s attack, and the tide began to turn. Low on ammunition, the French had to resort to the bayonet in a futile attempt to drive the British back. One party of 100 grenadiers was trapped in a tight spot and killed. Facing lethal volleys, the French retreated back to the Dos Casas, leaving their casualties behind. By sunset, French morale had plummeted and many companies were down to 40% strength.

The French artillery tried to bombard the new British line into submission, but for once they were outgunned by Wellington’s cannons. Finally, with their ammunition dangerously low, the French attacks came to an end. Wellington’s men entrenched during the evening. After spending the next three days parading before the British position, Masséna gave up the attempt and retreated to Ciudad Rodrigo, furious with his subordinates whose refusal to obey orders at crucial moments had turned a potential victory into a defeat which would spell the end of his command in the Peninsula.

The battle of Fuentes d’Onoro was not claimed by Wellington as one of his great victories. He had beaten back the French and was able to continue his blockade of Almeida. However, he acknowledged how dangerous the situation had been, saying later, “If Boney had been there, we should have been beat.” Wellington considered that he had unnecessarily extended his line, putting the 7th Division and Light Division in danger.

Two nights after Masséna’s withdrawal, Antoine Brenier’s 1,400-man French garrison of Almeida slipped through the British-Portuguese lines during the night. About 360 French troops were captured, but the rest escaped through a series of blunders. An infuriated Wellington wrote, “I have never been so much distressed by any military event as by the escape of even a man of them.”

On reaching Ciudad Rodrigo, Masséna was recalled to Paris by a furious Napoleon to explain his actions. He was replaced by Marshal Auguste Marmont. Masséna returned to France with a vast sum of gold, looted from Portugal and Spain. The defeated French marshal complained that Wellington “had not left him one black hair on his body—he had turned grey all over.” Later, meeting in France after the war, Wellington and Massena met as former adversaries and got on very well. On discussing their final campaign against one another, Massena said:

My Lord, you owe me a dinner – for you made me positively starve.” Wellington laughed. “You should give it to me, Marshal, for you prevented me from sleeping.”

We visited Fuentes d’Onoro earlier this year. Despite being surrounded by modern roads it is surprisingly easy to see the layout of the very extended battlefield. The third book of the Peninsular War saga, “An Uncommon Campaign” is centred around the battle, and in particular the Light Division part in it, since by now Paul van Daan’s 110th are fighting as part of Wellington’s elite division. The first four books in the Peninsular War Saga are available in both Kindle and paperback editions on Amazon.

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”36883697973″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”36884425503″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”23702051908″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]

For regular updates and articles on history, travel, writing and life why not join the mailing list here

6th July 201710th October 2017

Peninsular War Saga Special Offer – two for the price of one

[slickr-flickr search=”single” photo_id=”34741255824″ type=”slideshow” size=”large”descriptions=”on”]

Two books for 99p sounds like a bargain to me.

An Irregular Regiment, book two in the Peninsular War saga is available free on Amazon kindle for the next two days, while book one An Unconventional Officer is just 99p. Why not get both of them for your holiday reading.

The Peninsular War saga follows the story of Lieutenant Paul van Daan from his early days with the 110th infantry in India and on to Portugal and Spain under Sir Arthur Wellesley, later Lord Wellington.

Book one covers the period from 1802 when Paul joins the regiment as a young officer and follows his career and his personal life up to the eve of the battle of Bussaco in 1810. Book two takes up

An Unconventional Officer — Book 1 of the Peninsular War Saga

The books are thoroughly researched historical novels which tell the story of the men and women at all levels of army life during Wellington’s Peninsular Campaigns. They cover skirmishes and marches, campaigns and winter quarters, the bloody scenes of the battlefields and the even bloodier sights in the surgeons tents. They also tell a love story of an unusual couple in difficult times.

Two for the price of one. Why not give them a try?

6th July 20178th October 2017

Time Management for Authors

Time management demonstrated by labradors — Labradors exercising time management skills

Time management for authors is a subject close to my heart. When I decided to embark on a writing career I had the naive view that it was all about writing the books I love and then launching them on an unsuspecting and hopefully appreciative world.

Being an indie author is a somewhat different proposition. I find myself hopping from one activity to another like a somewhat manic flea at times, trying to fit in writing, revising, researching, marketing and cooking the occasional meal and doing the laundry.

I’ve come to the conclusion that organisation is the key and that starting to plan my days better would be a big help in getting things done and also ring fencing my writing time while keeping up to date with all the other things I’m trying to do. Naturally halfway through writing this paragraph I thought of three other jobs, completely essential, which I needed to go and complete before I finished this blog post. Like I said, it’s a work in progress.

However, I’ve been doing this for a few months now and I do think I’ve developed some idea of how to manage time better. This is obviously within the context of the other things we need to do. My other job is part time, running a dance school, so I need to fit in around that. I also have a home and family and one or two voluntary activities that I’d like to find time for. Some of you will be fitting in everything around a full time job. I’ve done that and it led to far too many three am writing sessions leaving me bleary eyed the next day, so I’m lost in admiration of people managing that one.

My guide, based purely on my own experiences, would run something like this.

Make a list of the roles you play. You’re going to want to allocate some time to each of them. They are not all equal and they will change. For example, my roles would include dance school owner, writer, mother, home manager, publicity and marketing person etc etc. Ten years ago the role of mother would have needed a bigger chunk of time than it does now.
Use lists. Even if you don’t do everything on the list, it helps to have a guide.
Don’t take on too much. Listen to me on this one. I am an expert at ignoring my own advice.
Let people help you. I’m so bad at this, it’s untrue.
Ring fence writing time. If you’re working at home you need to make sure people know that it is still working. And that can be hard.
Have time off. Writing might be the most fun you have all week but there is still a world out there and no job should be 24/7 or 365 days a year. Even if you’d like it to be.
Keep a diary or calendar. You will forget important things. I just lost my diary, I left it at one of our dance halls and it has vanished. I now need to put all my vital information into a new diary and I’m totally bewildered until I do that. Most normal people use an online diary but I’m strange and I like paper, whatever the disadvantages…
Set deadlines but make them realistic or you’ll die of stress. If you’re having deadlines set by other people, argue if you think they’re unrealistic. It’s worth it.
Don’t panic if you’re feeling overwhelmed. Take a deep breath and just do one thing. The rest will follow.
Keep computer use under control. The temptation to keep checking social media or e-mails is overwhelming. It wastes hours of the day. Give yourself a set amount of time and try to stick to it.
Use a timer. I got this idea a few years ago from an online home organisation site called Flylady. I have to say this site makes me laugh in places. There’s so much stuff on it that it’s mad and it’s all very cosy and very sweet and not always my sort of thing. BUT if you’re feeling overwhelmed and not sure how to get moving, I think it can be great. I still use some of the techniques I learned from it and the best one, if I’ve got too much to do and am about to explode, is using a timer and setting myself short bursts of activity.
Enjoy what you’re doing. If you’re a writer, you’ve got the most fun job in the world. Try to appreciate that…

5th July 20174th July 2018

Tynwald Day- the Manx national day

Tynwald Day, the Manx national day, is held each year on July 5^th and is a celebration of Manx independence and Manx culture. I wrote this post last year and am re-sharing it along with a free promotion of my most recent book, An Unwilling Alliance, which is set on the Isle of Man and in Denmark in 1806-7 and features a Manx hero and heroine.

Tynwald is the Parliament of the Isle of Man and no other parliament in the world has such a long unbroken record. It has been going since Viking times, more than 1000 years and governs a tiny island in the Irish sea. I had never heard the word Tynwald until I moved to the island fifteen years ago and I’m not sure I had really grasped the fact that the Isle of Man is an independent country with it’s own laws and its own Parliament. The island is not part of the United Kingdom, but a Crown Dependency with the Queen acknowledged as Lord of Mann.

The ceremony held at St John’s on Tynwald Day has changed in the details but has basically been going on for more than 1000 years. Back then the island was a collection of Viking settlements and an annual sitting of their Parliament was held around midsummer where people gathered to hear their laws proclaimed aloud, to seek justice and to air their grievances.

The Vikings or Norsemen first came to Mann around the year 800AD, and ruled the Island for four-and-a-half centuries before finally ceding it to the King of Scotland in 1266. By then they had firmly imposed their own administrative system, which continued even while the Island’s ownership passed between Scotland and England, to the Stanley family of Lancashire (Lords of Mann from 1405-1736), and to their kin the Dukes of Atholl, who held it until it was re-vested in the British Crown in 1765. The custom of Tynwald Day has continued throughout all these changes.

On Tynwald Day, Tynwald meets at St John’s instead of the usual parliament building in Douglas, partly in the Royal Chapel of St John the Baptist and partly in the open air on Tynwald Hill, a small artificial hill nearby. The meeting is known as Midsummer Court and is attended by both branches of Tynwald, the House of Keys and the Legislative Council. The Lieutenant Governor presides as the representative of the Lord of Mann, unless the Queen or another member of the Royal Family is present.

All bills which have received the Royal Assent are promulgated on Tynwald day and if this does not happen within 18 months of passing the bill it ceases to have effect. Other proceedings can include the presentation of petitions and the swearing in of public officials. There is a formal procession which includes the Lieutenant Governor, Members of the House of Keys and of the Legislative Council, the Deemsters who are the highest judicial officers, any guests of honour from other nations, clergymen, leaders of local governments and any other state officials of the Isle of Man. Members of the general public attend the ceremony as do local constabulary and military. It is a highly formal affair.

Before Tynwald sits, the individual presiding inspects the guard of honour and lays a wreath at the National War Memorial. There is a religious service in the chapel at 11am and then Tynwald proceeds to the adjacent Tynwald Hill. The path is strewn with rushes following the celtic custom of pleasing the sea god Mannanan with bundles of rushes on Midsummer’s Eve. The path is lined with flagpoles, which fly the national flag and the parliamentary flag. The laws are proclaimed from Tynwald Hill which has existed from at least the end of the 14^th century. Once this is done, Tynwald reconvenes in the Chapel and quill pens are used to sign certificates documenting the promulgation of the laws.

Once the captioning of the acts has concluded, the Lieutenant Governor and the Legislative Council withdraw, leaving members of the House of Keys for a session of their house. Once Tynwald Day is over there are three more sittings of Tynwald before the government adjourns for the summer until October.

Traditionally, Tynwald Day was marked by a fair and market; these customs still continue with stalls, demonstrations, music and dance throughout the day and on into the evening. The village of St John’s is packed with people and the following week, known as Manx National Week, usually hosts a series of concerts, displays and other events related to Manx culture.

For the first few years we were on the island it was an annual event to go to Tynwald Day. I admit I was fascinated by the history, the idea that this ceremony, in some form or another, has been going for so long. It is very different to the British opening of Parliament and Queen’s speech which is very much a Parliamentary event. This is an event for the people, and the tradition of people bringing their grievances before Tynwald on this day really happens, I know people who have done it. This year, as an example, several Manx women staged a silent protest dressed in Handmaid’s Tale type red cloaks and bonnets to show their support for reform of the island’s highly outdated abortion laws. Democracy moves slowly at times, but it does move and Tynwald Day is a traditional forum for protests like this.

The actual reading of the laws is long and boring and I’m not sure how many people really listen. But it’s an important part of the day. The officials are in full robes and wigs and there’s a real sense of ceremony and national pride.

I’ve not been to Tynwald Day for years now. It’s the day after my daughter’s birthday so it’s often difficult. But I think I’d like to do it again at some point. In the past, when the children were younger it was all about the fair and the activities and the market stalls. But I think I’d like to attend from the point of view of a historian, to read about the ceremonies of the past and feel the sense of continuity which shines through the day. The island is a small nation but has a deep sense of pride and community which I’ve a suspicion we could all learn something from.

Many thanks to Heather Paisley for use of her photographs.

For regular updates on this site including history, travel, book reviews and plenty of labradors (and a few freebies thrown in) please join the e-mail list here.

23rd June 20176th October 2017

Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner

Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner was played at my mother’s funeral a few years back. It was very appropriate for her, because although for the last few years of her life she moved to the Isle of Man to be near us, she saw herself as very much a Londoner. She was fiercely proud of it, would defend London as the best city in the world – in fact the best place in the world – against anybody.

I was in London myself recently for a few days, cat sitting for a friend of my sisters and getting some quiet time after the complete madness of the past few months. It was as hot as Hades and I spent a few days with my sister catching up, being a tourist and getting sore feet after which she went home and I was alone and peaceful with Monty the cat. My intention wasto catch up on a lot of admin jobs that I’ve left for too long and then to get a really good way into my new Regency novel. It was a lovely flat with a balcony and the temptation to doze in the sun with Monty was huge, although I did try to resist.

It’s always odd being back in London. I’m not so familiar with this part, but we took a bus out through the East End where I grew up, to Stratford and then went on to Canary Wharf and had lunch by the river. In my childhood, Stratford was our local shopping centre and Canary Wharf was a place we simply didn’t go – it consisted of rotting and boarded up warehouses with a few dingy businesses still struggling on. I’ve watched the evolution of docklands through my life and it’s been a fascinating process.

Despite being born and raised in the East End, I’m not really a city person. I don’t mind small towns; Douglas is about right for me. But I love the countryside and the coast, the feeling of fewer people and wider spaces and not feeling trapped. I don’t think I’d ever choose to live full time in a city again, especially a city as overcrowded as London now is.

Nevertheless – and maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner – I actually do still love London. It’s the place of my birth and my childhood. I love the history and the parks and the odd little corners that many people never visit. I was so lucky as a child to have parents who adored both history and walking. Every Sunday, unless the rain was torrential, we were dragged out to the number 8 bus stop at the end of the road, to “go for a walk”. This did not mean a twenty minute stroll through a park. It meant a four or five hour marathon through parts of London I would never have known existed.

Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner: Wellington Statue — Wellington statue in London

We walked through the City and listened to my mother’s stories of the blitz and of her first jobs in old fashioned offices, learning the switchboard and typing on an old fashioned typewriter. We wandered through the Inns of Court and the world of legal London, with my Dad stopping to read every plaque on every wall. We discovered hidden gems like the Museum of the Order of St John and Postman’s Park. On wet days we did every museum in London including ones I’ve forgotten even existed. We went into obscure but beautiful churches which were always open to visitors back then, and if it was late enough in the day we would stay for evensong before getting the bus home. When people ask me why I write historical novels rather than any other kind, I find it hard to answer apart from to say I always loved history. But I know that this is why. At times, wandering through the ancient streets, I would whinge about the fact that my friends from school were all off ice skating or swimming or just hanging out in the street. But Mum was adamant that unless there was a genuine reason not to (like a broken leg – arms didn’t count, I once saw her scale the cliffs at Hastings with her arm in a sling) we would all go out together on Sundays. Church, Sunday lunch, walk or other outing and then home for tea and whichever series was on TV on Sundays. Saturdays were ours; on Sundays we belonged to her.

Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner: Tower of London — Tower of London

As I grew older the rule relaxed, but by then she didn’t have to nag me, I was hooked. At secondary school by then, I visited exhibitions relevant to whatever I was studying, sometimes with the school but sometimes on my own. I would think nothing – and still don’t – about taking myself off to the British Museum on a free day. A boat trip down to Hampton Court or Greenwich was a joy. I loved the Cutty Sark and the Tower of London – just wandering around outside them was enough. And I adored – and will always adore – the River Thames, where my parents did a lot of their courting.

All of this came from a family with very little. We lived, for the first thirteen years of my life, in an old rented house with no bathroom or indoor toilet. We washed in the kitchen sink and bathed in an old fashioned tin bath by the oil stove in the kitchen because there was no central heating. We ate healthily but with few luxuries on a daily basis although it made a meal out for a birthday or the extra treats at Christmas incredibly special.

When we moved to a council maisonette when I was thirteen, it was luxury. I can remember squabbling over who would be the first to use the new bath until we realised my mother was already in it. Curiously, we missed our old fashioned house; the new place had no garden. My parents were good managers and saved for their old age but we didn’t have that much stuff.

What we did have was experiences. We had one week’s holiday every year, always in the UK but always somewhere special. When we were small we went to holiday camps a lot as they were cheap and there was entertainment but as we got older we rented cottages and we explored Devon and Cornwall, the Lakes and Yorkshire, the Isle of Wight and parts of Scotland. We did it all by coach and bus and train; they had no car.

We went to the cinema to see every good new film going. We went to the London Palladium to see the Pantomime every Christmas. If there was a school trip to anywhere, they would find the money for us to go. My love of music came from endless school trips to concerts, the opera, and to hear Gilbert and Sullivan. My love of good plays and literature came from school trips to the Young Vic and Stratford upon Avon. They had never been abroad, but I went to Russia at sixteen with the school because my Dad did overtime to pay for it.

I’m aware as an adult of everything they did for us and everything they sacrificed so that we could absorb as many different experiences as they could afford to give us. It’s not that surprising that we both did so well. But I don’t think they thought it was that much of a sacrifice, I think they loved doing all these things with us, enjoyed introducing us to the city they both loved.

They were poor when we were young, got more comfortable as we grew up and travelled a bit more, spent more on themselves although they still never had a car or bought a house. They ate out a lot, discovered different cuisines and enjoyed it. They both still walked until arthritis and old age prevented them. But they never resented poverty or saw themselves as victims. They were never angry. They simply worked out what was important to them and what they could easily do without and if they needed more they worked a bit harder to get it.

They weren’t political although they never failed to vote, but they both voted on issues rather than blind loyalty to a party so at different times they voted for all three main parties. My mother voted for Margaret Thatcher simply on the grounds that it was time there was a woman in charge. She was a feminist without ever knowing what the word meant, or caring. My father voted Labour that year. Neither of them cared what anybody else voted. Their friends and family could be Labour or Tory or Liberal or nothing at all. It was considered rude to get personal about such matters as religion or politics. They were old enough to appreciate the welfare state, the NHS and any help they were given. They were gracious about it, didn’t see it as a right, said thank you when help was given. During the IRA bombings they continued to take us to all the same places, do all the same things. We missed the Ideal Home Exhibition bomb by a few minutes only, but there was no sense of anxiety. We were in London and that city belonged to us, not the bombers.

Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner. But when I’m back here, no matter how much it has changed, no matter how much I know that I’d never come back to live here now, I still feel a very primitive sense of belonging. This is my city, my home, my childhood. I feel an enormous sense of familiarity and of love and gratitude both to the people who raised me and the city that shaped all of us. I’ve lived in many places now and loved a fair few of them. But when I come back to London, I know I’ve come home.

22nd June 201710th October 2017

An Irregular Regiment – Book Two coming soon

Wellington’s HQ in Pere Negro, the Lines of Torres Vedras

An Irregular Regiment, book two in the Peninsular War saga, is due for publication on 4th July.

The novel continues the story of Major Paul van Daan and the 110th infantry as they prepare to meet the French on the ridge of Bussaco in Portugal. Back on the battlefield only two weeks after his scandalous marriage to the young widow of Captain Robert Carlyon, Paul is ready for the challenge of the invading French army.

But Lord Wellington has another posting for his most difficult officer and Paul and Anne find themselves back in Lisbon dealing with a whole new set of challenges with army supplies, new recruits and a young officer who seems to represent everything Paul despises in the army’s views on discipline and punishment. Anne is getting used to life as the wife of a newly promoted regimental colonel as two other women join the regiment under very different circumstances. And an old adversary appears in the shape of Captain Vincent Longford whose resentment at serving under Paul is as strong as ever.

It’s a relief to return to the field but Paul finds himself serving under the worst General in the army in a situation which could endanger his career, his regiment and his life.

Given a brief by Wellington which requires him to use tact and diplomacy as well as his formidable fighting skills, it’s hardly surprising that the army is holding it’s breath waiting for Wellington’s newest and most explosive colonel to fail spectacularly.

Read the first chapter of An Irregular Regiment here. For those who haven’t read it yet, why not order an Unconventional Officer.

13th June 201717th October 2017

Georgette Heyer, Regency Romances and how much sex is really necessary…?

Of all historical novels, Regency romances seem to be one of the most distinctive genres, and although their popularity has waxed and waned they have never completely gone out of style. Set approximately during the period of the British Regency (1811–1820) they have their own plot and stylistic conventions. Many people think of Jane Austen when Regencies are mentioned and certainly her novels are set in the right period, but of course she was writing as a contemporary not as a historian.

It has always seemed to me that Georgette Heyer was the mother of the current Regency genre. She wrote more than twenty novels set during the Regency, between 1935 and her death in 1974 and her books were very much like a comedy of manners. There was little discussion of sex, understandable given the different views of her generation, and a great emphasis on clever, quick witted dialogue between the characters.

These days, Regencies seem to be divided into two sub genres. There are the traditional Regencies which are similar to Heyer’s originals, and a more modern Regency historical genre. Many authors do not seem to confine themselves to one of these two types but may move between the two. Both are currently popular.

Traditional Regencies emphasise the main romantic plot. They play close attention to historical detail and take care to replicate the voice of the genre. There is a good deal of research for writers of traditional Regencies. Heroes and heroines generally remain within the accepted rules and conditions of the period and although their may be some sex it is very likely that the action stops at the bedroom door, probably at the proposal of marriage.

The more modern Regency historical novels break more rules. They may be set during the time period but not necessarily in high society with an insight into life outside of the world of wealth and privilege inhabited by Georgette Heyer’s characters. They may also include characters who behave in a more modern way, particularly when it comes to sexual behaviour and moral values. The style can be very different to the more traditional works. There is another sub genre, the sensual Regency which has become very popular in recent years. These novels are far more explicit than the traditional Regency and the sexual relationship between the hero and heroine is key to the book.

There are some elements which are likely to crop up in all genres of Regency novels. Many are set in, or will refer to the Ton, which means the top layer of English society. They revolve around social activities such as balls, dinners, assemblies and other common pastimes. Men are often involved in sporting activities. There are detailed descriptions of fashion and a consciousness of social class and the rules of behaviour. The difference between them is that in traditional Regencies the heroine is likely to stick to them; in the modern genre pretty much anything goes.

The shift in the genre seems to have come about because of a slump in the popularity of Regencies in the 1990s. Some authors began incorporating more sex into their novels and while lovers of traditional Regencies disliked it, publishers and readers seemed to approve and the Regency novel got a new lease of life.

I grew up reading Georgette Heyer and owned every one of her books in paperback – I still have some of them and still read them from time to time. They are, for me, the ultimate comfort book – the only other series which comes close are P G Wodehouse’s tales of Jeeves and Wooster. These are the books I’ll turn to if I’m ill or miserable or sometimes just because my brain hurts and I can’t focus on anything else. They are written to entertain and with their quick dialogue and comedic moments they never let me down.

I wrote my first Regency novel for the Mills and Boon market during the years I was trying to find a traditional publisher. I’d tried several other novels, including at least two contemporary ones which are never going to see the light of day again, and had joined the Romantic Novelists Association new writers scheme. After very positive feedback on both A Respectable Woman and A Marcher Lord it was suggested that I try to adapt these to Mills and Boon. I did try, but it couldn’t be done. It appeared that I simply could not have a heroine who defended herself very capably against attack; it was the job of the hero to rescue her and Jenny Marchant simply wouldn’t wait. In fact she was more likely to do the rescuing. Philippa Maclay was even worse, she didn’t make it through two chapters without doing something so appalling that it put her beyond hope of redemption. If I rewrote these characters then I would be writing a different book. I gave it up and decided to start from scratch.

Out of that decision came Cordelia Summers and Giles Fenwick of The Reluctant Debutante. Once I got into the swing of it I really loved writing this book. It’s fun and fairly light hearted. I was already doing a lot of research into the period for my series set during the Peninsular war and that fitted very well with a Regency so it wasn’t that much extra work. And the fast paced dialogue and witty characters of the Regency genre exist in all my books, no matter which period they’re set in. I realise that those years of reading Georgette Heyer and Dorothy Dunnett have affected the way all my characters speak. They may have different accents and different levels of education, but most of them are smart mouths.

I had a lovely response from Mills and Boon on the Reluctant Debutante. It was a no, but a very detailed no. They liked the setting and the characters and even the plot, but once again my characters let me down. There was not enough internal conflict between them, it seemed; most of their difficulties were external and their way of overcoming them was not dramatic enough. Could I rewrite it to include more conflict between Cordelia and Giles?

I did try. I wrote a selection of scenes for them. The trouble was, trying to fit them into the book made no sense whatsoever. I’d already created these people and their responses to events grew out of their essential character. Cordelia might have flatly refused to see Giles after their quarrel and there could have been weeks of agonising and misunderstandings. But there wasn’t. Cordelia was as mad as a wet hen but once she saw him again, she didn’t have it in her not to listen to his explanation. She’s a practical girl with a wealth of common sense. She simply can’t behave like a drama queen.

So Giles and Cordelia remained as themselves and I published the book pretty much as I’d originally written it, with the removal of one or two completely gratuitous sex scenes which didn’t seem to add anything to the plot. I’ve been delighted with people’s response to it. So far it’s the best selling of all the books although the others are starting to catch up and readers seem to love it.

The amount of sex in my books varies a fair bit and for me that reflects reality. Everyone is different in how they feel about sex both in books and in real life. It’s not hard for me to write about sex; I used to be a relationship counsellor so I’m difficult to shock. At the same time I need my characters to develop their own attitudes towards sex and it needs to fit within the social norms of the time and one of the most important things to remember is that there was no reliable form of contraception available to any of my heroines which meant that there was an enormous risk involved in illicit sex.

Jenny and Will in a Marcher Lord are very compatible. He’s around thirty, never been married although knows he should be for dynastic reasons, and likes women. You have the sense he had a good relationship with his mother and adores his younger sister, so he’s likely to be fairly respectful around women although given his age and status there have definitely been a few adventures along the way. He’s not particularly a womaniser despite some of his cousins jokes about it and he knows how to behave. Jenny on the other hand grew up in a loving family where marriage wasn’t really an issue which has given her a very untraditional view on marriage and sex. Circumstances rather than morality dictate the progress of Jenny and Will’s relationship and they understand each other very well.

For Philippa and Kit, sex is a very different issue since at the start their entire relationship is based around his attempt to persuade her to be his mistress and her steadfast refusal. Their stances on this are very traditional for the time but there are a lot of other reasons why a sexual relationship is complicated for this couple and it was quite hard to write about at times. Certainly this was not a couple who were going to fall into bed every five minutes, that’s not what their story is about.

Giles and Cordelia are also fairly traditional. Giles might forget his manners from time to time but he understands what is expected of him. They are strongly attracted to one another but their relationship takes a fairly traditional course, for the first half of the book at least.

An Unconventional Officer - love and war in Wellington’s army — Book 1 in the Peninsular War Saga

Paul and Anne are very different. Technically, An Unconventional Officer could be considered a Regency given the period but it is not; it’s a love story but it’s also the story of two very individual people and their experiences in the army during Wellington’s Peninsular wars and the Ton and Almack’s don’t really feature. When Anne and Paul meet there is no question of a romantic relationship between them; he’s married and she’s going to be soon. But of all of my characters, Paul and Anne are by far the most openly physical in their relationship. He is a shameless womaniser with a string of broken hearts behind him and she is young and inexperienced but neither of those things really matters. For Paul and Anne the chemistry is instant and undeniable and completely irresistible. It is also really obvious to everybody around them. It isn’t hard writing love scenes for Paul and Anne, the difficulty is trying to get them to behave with any degree of propriety at all.

I suspect The Reluctant Debutante falls somewhere between the old and the new when it comes to Regency. I do like my heroines to have something more about them than a pretty face and good manners, but on the whole I’ve allowed Cordelia to be fairly well-behaved in public although privately she’s a little different. She’s very grown up but she’s also led a sheltered life in comparison to all three of my other heroines and she behaves accordingly. It was nice to write something normal for a change…

My new Regency has the working title of A Regrettable Reputation and it’s early days yet but at least some of it is likely to be set in Yorkshire. Sophia Dorne is very different to Cordelia both in circumstances and in character. Nicholas Witham is nothing like Giles, having neither his fortune nor his arrogance although they do have some things in common. I’m looking forward to seeing how things work out for them.

Watch this space…

11th June 201710th October 2017

An Uncommon Campaign – Book Three of the Peninsular War Saga

An Uncommon Campaign is now published on Amazon Kindle and will shortly be available in paperback.

It is April 1811. Lord Wellington has led his army to the Spanish border where the French occupy their last stronghold in Portugal at Almeida. As the two armies face each other in the village of Fuentes de Onoro, Colonel Paul van Daan is trying to become accustomed to his new responsibilities in command of a brigade and is learning to manage the resentment of other officers at his early promotion. His young wife is carrying her first child and showing no signs of allowing her delicate situation to get in the way of her normal activities much to the horror of the rest of the army. And if that is not enough, Paul encounters a French colonel during battle who seems to have taken their rivalry personally with potentially lethal consequences for the Third Brigade of the Light Division.

The third book in the Peninsular War Saga will be published at the end of July 2017.

An Irregular Regiment, Book Two will be published on 4 July 2017

In the run up to the publication of An Irregular Regiment, there will be a free promotion of An Unconventional Officer from 16 – 18 June 2017.