Right now I’m reading a super-fantabulous little book called Annapolis: Its Colonial and Naval History. It’s just perfect for my research needs, given that I’m writing about Annapolis of 1784. What makes it even better is that it was written in 1925, so it has that lovely, lyrical, understatedly humorous quality to it. (Yes, I know ‘understatedly’ isn’t a word. This is pre-coffee. Bear with me.) I believe I mentioned this book in my post on Bladen’s Folly, so you know I must love it to be using it again. 😉

Yesterday I got a grin from reading one small paragraph about the house of Charles Carroll, the Barrister (who ought not be confused with Charles Carroll, the Declaration Signer, or the scads of other Charles Carrolls in the Maryland/Virginia area of the time). It describes in detail where this house is situated, what it overlooks, etc.

Um . . . no. Sorry, dude. It was at the time, yes–and I was actually wondering where it had once been. But not long after this book was written, someone wanted to put something else there, so what is now just called the Carroll-Barrister House was moved to St. John’s College. (New readers, that’s where I went to school.) Where it became the Admissions and Advancement Office.

Now, I worked in the Admissions Office for four years, where I did data entry, answered phones, stuffed envelopes, and gave tours. I spent so many hours in that creaky old house that I daresay I know it’s features waaaaaaay better than the writer of this Annapolis book. AND I LOVE THAT!! Because I remember walking into it the first time as a 16-year-old visitor getting my first glance of the school. I wrote an essay my senior year of high school on how that building made me supremely aware of how I was walking into history–something I’d never felt so keenly before.

As a history lover, as a historical fiction writer, there is nothing better than the ‘hometown shout out’ thing. You know, like when a rockband screams how great it is to be in your town. For me, it’s exactly the same when a history–or a historical–gives a shout out to what is “mine.” There are novels I’ve read solely because they mention Cumberland, Maryland. There are histories I plow through largely because I can go, “Hey, I know where that is!! COOL!”

I’m not sure why this excites me so much–there’s always the option that I’m just weird. 😉 But I think it’s mostly because it stops the clock. It makes time stand still, or at least takes me out of it. It makes me realize that History isn’t this ephemeral flower that has bloomed and is now gone, it’s . . . it’s . . . us. Does that make sense?

We still live in the same buildings that were used hundreds of years ago. We still walk the streets that were first paved with bricks. We still sit under the shade of the tree that cast its shadows over the Patriots.

We still live in grace bought by the blood of a man who lived, died, and rose again two thousand years ago.

History is real. And, even when it changes, it matters. It’s mine. But don’t worry–I’ll share. 😉

~ Mock not nor Jest at any thing of Importance break no Jest that are Sharp Biting and if you Deliver any thing witty and Pleasent abstain from Laughing there at yourself.

~ Wherein wherein you reprove Another be unblameable yourself; for example is more prevalent than Precepts.

~ Wear not your Cloths, foul, unript or Dusty but See they be Brush’d once every day at least and take heed that you approach not to any Uncleaness.

~ Run not in the Streets, neither go too slowly nor with Mouth open go not Shaking yr Arms kick not the earth with yr feet, go not upon the Toes, nor in a Dancing fashion.

~ Eat not in the Streets, nor in the House, out of Season.

~ Speak not of doleful Things in a Time of Mirth or at the Table; Speak not of Melancholy Things as Death and Wounds, and if others Mention them Change if you can the Discourse tell not your Dreams, but to your intimate Friend.

~ Go not thither, where you know not, whether you Shall be Welcome or not. Give not Advice without being Ask’d & when desired do it briefly.

~Reprehend not the imperfections of others for that belongs to Parents Masters and Superiours.

Hope y’all enjoy! Wish me luck tonight, eh? =)

Once upon a time, there was a Maryland governor named Bladen. He held office in the cultural hub of the New World, Annapolis. There, balls and soirees and parties of unsurpassed splendor ruled the day. Nowhere else in America could you find such wealth, such beauty, such style. For good reason, the town had been dubbed the “Athens of America.” Bladen undoubtedly thought himself pretty darn special. He was governor. The State House overlooked the city with grace and elegance. The Who’s Who of the colonies often dropped by. So naturally, he deserved a governor’s mansion. One whose glory would reflect the State House across the street. There was only one problem . . . he ran out of money before the mansion was finished. Oops!

For years, the shell of building sat empty and, we can suppose, forlorn. I imagine the governor was pretty embarrassed, too, since the mocking facade came to be known as Bladen’s Folly. Kinda funny, since Thomas Jefferson called it “the only publick building worth mentioning” in Annapolis in 1766.

In the 1780s, Bladen’s Folly sat on 4 acres of land abutting King William’s School, a grammar/prep school for boys that were usually bound for Oxford. After the Revolution, Maryland officials decided it was high time the state had a college, and the state offered Bladen’s Folly and the land with it if the college would be placed in Annapolis, as opposed to on the Eastern Shore, as some wanted. In 1784 (when my new work-in-progress takes place), St. John’s College was chartered, its home to be Bladen’s Folly–after they completed it of course. In order to streamline, they merged with King William’s School, and grammar-level instruction continued in the basement while higher learning took place on the higher floors. (The cupola and bell tower were added then.)

Now this is of utmost interest to me for several reasons. First, because my hero attended King William’s School a decade earlier, so he’d be pretty interested in all this. Second, because I attended St. John’s. =) The third oldest college in the nation (only because they can claim the charter of King William’s School, actually–it was founded in 1696), St. John’s still uses the building once called Bladen’s Folly as its central building, though now it’s called McDowell Hall. Which means I got to walk the moat that was deepened during the new construction in 1786. I got to look out over the Great Hall where centuries’of students met before me. I got to look out the windows of the third floor and see the dome of the State House where George Washington resigned his commission, where the Treaty of Paris ending the Revolution was ratified.

I just love placing my feet on the steps of history. Don’t you?

One of things I’m coming across for my particular stretch of time–late 1783 through early 1784–is that fashion was drastically changing for the first time in a couple decades. For quite a while, the hairstyles had gotten larger, more extravagant, and were either powdered or covered with powdered wigs. Then all of a sudden hats got more extravagant, and hair was all of a sudden worn in loose curls, totally down, in a natural color.

For decades dresses had been large, hooped, bustled (though that wasn’t the word for it at the time) and frilled–especially formal wear. Then in the mid 1780s Marie Antoinette all of a sudden introduced the “chemise gown.” So named because instead of volume, it was a simple swath, sashes, a precursor to the empire styles we know and love from Regency days. When it first appeared on the scene, to most it looked like nothing more than an undergarment, hence the name “chemise.”

Interesting, huh? I’m always so intrigued by how fashion can change subtly, subtly, and the WHAM! All of sudden hemlines rise (in the case of the 1920s), necklines plunge, volume decreases, undergarments change, hair goes from up-to-the-ceiling to totally down . . . and why, I ask, do my settings always seem to be in those transition years?? I don’t plan it that way, but every time I look up the fashion for my particular year, I find it to be in transition, not what I associate with the “typical” for an era. Sheesh. 😉

Another thing that struck me yet again is the corset. They were called stays at the time, but still. It was a corset. Corset were worn by all women for centuries and centuries, even well into ours. They made a brief exit in the early 1920s, but women didn’t like the bulges that emerged without them, so they quickly came back in, though in a more comfortable form. What happened to that?? I mean, I’m all for comfort, but seriously. I find it strange.

And that sums up my musings on fashion for now. I got a few books out of the Library I’m going to be looking at tomorrow, so who knows what weird little factoids I’ll have for you next week. 😉 Hope everyone has a fun Wednesday!