As last week we spent time with Brooks Gentleman’s club, it is only correct that we venture across the street both literally and figuratively and go to Boodles. After this, we should venture to White’s, perhaps the most famous of clubs for the men of the Ton in a future blog and having discussed Waiter’s we should look in there as well in future weeks. My NaNoWriMo novel at the end of last year I have given a work title to of The Other Shoe. While working through it I did some research on Gentleman’s Clubs and thought why not delve into other parts of the Regency besides the Squares I have been reporting on. Many of the scenes of the heroes in our stories are set at their clubs.
Boodles Gentlemen’s Club
Founded in 1762 by the Earl of Shelburne, William Petty-FitzMaurice who later became the 1st Marquess of Lansdowne and the Prime Minister of England during the last days of the Revolutionary War, or that trifling thing regarding the colonies. (Just a little representation for our taxation and what coulda, shoulda, woulda, wow, think of the possibilities if the americas were still the colonies…)
Shelburne was a Whig statement and this club served to be a second place for such to enjoy a day without women in it. It first opened on Pall Mall but in 1782 took over the Savoir Vivre space at 28 St. James Street which is across from Brooks Gentlemen’s club. The club in recent rimes has had such members as Ian Fleming who gave us James Bond, and David Niven who at one time was the Pink Panther…
Such notables who lived during the Regency and were members of the club include menbers we met at Brooks as well. Such as Beau Brummell, William Wilberforce, William Cavendish the 5th Duke of Devonshire. Here we also would see Arthur Wellesley, the 1st Duke of Wellington . Also a member was John Fane, the 10th Earl of Westmoreland who really did run away to Gretna Green to marry Sarah Anne Child and looked to be a regency beauty as well as the rich daughter of a banker. The banker though cut his daughter and his grandsons from his will. He left his money to his granddaughter so the Fane name would not have access to his fortune.
So many major men of the Regency were members of Brooks that we have a place to when in London, our heroes will be drawn to for it is the magnet for them socially.
I released a new book, an omnibus of the three first Trolling stories. In honor of that I have made the first tale of Humphrey and Gwendolyn available for a limited time for $.99 This introductory price is so those who have not discovered this fantasy work can delve into it for a very incentivised price and see if they like the series and continue on, either ordering the other two stories separately, or ordering all three in the Omnibus edition. There are still two more in the series for me to wrap up with edits and release. They have been written as those who follow my blog know. Just not yet gone through my final check protocols.
The Writing LIfe
I am now near 100 pages (about 30000 words, into writing on The Crown Imposter. A fantasy that has had two different ideas about for the last few years. Neither was working by when I decided to combine them, all of sudden it worked and I wanted to write. Something I have been too exhausted to do these last few months
I enclose a few paragraphs from the first draft and first chapter for perusal.
The door opened letting a cold blast of saturated wetness force it’s way into what should have remained a warm and cozy space. Sergeant Middlin grunted but caught his tongue before he cursed aloud. The young Baron turned as he entered the room and pushed hard to shut the door against the raging storm.
Middlin had sons the Baron’s age. Sons older than the young man if truth were told. He knew holding his tongue was called for at that moment. At least holding some of the obvious things he would say to another man who was not his overlord.
“Everything as it should be?”
The Baron, Damien Everheart, had strode to the blazing fire that they had stoked to greatness once the first signs of the storm had become evident some hours before.
The young man said, “Aye, you were right. All was good. The sentries were in their coveys and hides. You know though I did not go out just to see if they were obeying my orders.” Middlin nodded to that. The Sergeant had charge of the boy, now man, for over a decade. Middlin and a couple others. They had seen to training him for his duties.
Duties, that with his father’s recent death, Damien had now assumed.
“‘Course. Wanting the men to know you share in their burdens earns their trust and respect. I taught you that. But there is a limit. You catch sick from all that water nows that drenched your bones and then the Barony be without a leader.”
Damien smirked a quick laugh, “I’ll stand here in front of the fire and warm myself. I’ll be as dry as bone in three shakes of Spotters tail.” The boy referred to the dog that lay in front of the fire. Old Spot had been a puppy and gift to Damien when he first came to train in the ways of fighting and of ruling. Now the dog had grown old these dozen years since.
“Fool boy. You need to learn that you take care of yourself proper and you don’t need to worry about getting sick. Rushing about in a storm is a sure way to get sick, no matter how long you stand in front of a fire after.” Middlin knew that advice would not be heeded. He probably had heard something the same when he was young from an oldster, and just as Damien, ignored it. Now as his bones knew ache from the cold and wet, he knew the words to be true.
“As you say. But you also taught me about showing myself to the men when they are in hardship. They stand watch in the cold and wet now, and they know I am colder and wetter than they are. And they know that I think it is important what they are doing out there. Standing guard.”
Middlin shook his head. He was not going to win a battle of wits with the Baron. Damien was bright and there was no getting around him for he was stubborn too. And well he should be. He was the lord and now, the Barony was right on the border of the kingdom.
“Your damnable cousin is responsible for all this mess, and for you having to go make the rounds of the watch. Five years ago, his Duchy protected us against the Altans. Now that he is king of all them Altans he caused all the problems that be facing us!” Middlin said with some feeling. He worried that sooner, rather than later, there was going to be war. Prince Brion, the king’s son was hot headed, if all the tales he had heard of that young man were true.
And a hot headed prince was sure to want to make a name for himself. Retaking for the kingdom of Centrion what had been the most prosperous Duchy of the kingdom, and doing so by force of arms, was one way to add the moniker Conqueror to Brion’s name.