Above painting: Louis Jean Francois - Mars and Venus an Allegory of Peace

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Monday, December 30, 2013

The Earl's Christmas Colt by Rebecca Thomas -- Reviewed by Kathleen Bittner Roth

Released today! 12/30/13

The Earl’s Christmas Colt
By Rebecca Thomas

Lady Arabella Sutton is stunned to learn her brother has betrothed her to a stranger despite his promises for a season in London. Although she is the first to admit no man would suit, since she’s more interested in horses than marriage, the last thing she wants is to become a brood mare to a stuffy old earl. Facing a future she cannot abide, she takes an impetuous ride to clear her head and ends up tending her injured mare instead.
Oliver Westwyck, the Earl of Marsdale, can’t believe his luck when he stops at an inn the night before he’s to meet his fiancĂ©e. In the stable, while tending the colt he intends to give to his future wife, he happens upon her—rain-drenched but beautiful. She assumes he’s a stable hand, a fine joke he means to end...until Lady Arabella declares all noblemen are egotistical, conceited, and arrogant. How can he reveal his true identity before he’s managed to change her mind and win her heart?

Reviewed by Kathleen Bittner Roth


Have you ever read a Reader’s Digest condensed version of a book and wondered what the original story must be like since nothing seemed to be missing? Curiosity piqued, you purchase the original, read it, and are even more stymied because you cannot figure out what the devil had been cut! Which brings me to entertaining, well-written short stories.

If you’re someone who enjoys short stories and novellas, The Earl’s Christmas Colt is for you. Set in Sussex County, England in December, 1819, Author Rebecca Thomas has managed to pack everything into a wonderful little historical that is sure to please.

I love horses, so that got my attention, and the author does a wonderful job of bringing the beasts alive in her pages. I prefer strong but flawed characters, and Thomas gives us that in spades. Lady Arabella’s brother means well, but he’s not the best when it comes to communication. Arabella has character, wit and strong principles that in turn manage to get her into a bit of a fix. Then there’s Westwyck, the Earl of Marsdale, who, on his way to wed Arabella, manages to dig a deep hole for himself without even trying.

Lovely prose, clear, concise writing without a wasted word. Thomas writes a delightful story. Enjoy.


Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Christmas Traditions in Imperial Russia by Ally Broadfield

Welcome to History Undressed, guest blogger, Ally Broadfield! She's here today to spread some Christmas cheer and talk to us a bit about Christmas traditions in Russia. Enjoy!

Christmas Traditions in Imperial Russia

by Ally Broadfield

Christmas in Imperial Russia was celebrated with a blend of traditions from Russia’s Christian and pre-Christian past. On Christmas Eve it was customary for groups of people masquerading as manger animals to travel from house to house performing and singing carols known as kolyadki. Somekolyadki were pastoral carols to the baby Jesus, while others were homages to the ancient solar goddess Kolyada, who brought the lengthening days of sunlight through the winter. In return for their songs, the singers were offered food and coins before moving on to the next home. There is a passage in Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace describing this custom, known as mumming. Everyone participated in the mumming. In the 17th century, the tsar himself, followed by his boyars and courtiers and led by drummers, would travel by sleigh from house to house in Moscow to sing for the owners. Peter the Great was also known to congratulate his friends in this manner, but he kept a list of participants and those who did not join were punished.


Happy Christmas (pre-1917 Russian postcard)
Religious observances surrounding Christmas also flourished in Imperial Russia. Though the foods and customs surrounding the observance of Christmas differed from village to village and family to family, certain aspects remained the same. Christmas Eve was the last day of the six week Christmas fast, and for the devout, ancient custom dictated that no one eat until the first star shone in the sky. Hay was spread on the table and covered with a white cloth in imitation of the manger. Dinner began with a prayer for the New Year and a special porridge called kutya. The head of the household would throw a spoonful outside to encourage Grandfather Frost to spare the crops, then a spoonful was thrown up on the ceiling. The grains that stuck foretold the number of bees there would be in summer to ensure a plentiful honey harvest. Lastly, upon rising from the table, everyone left some kutya in their bowls for their departed relatives.



After the meal it was time to attend the Christmas Mass. On Christmas day, it was customary for everyone to dress in their finest clothes and go visiting. Tables were spread in a traditional manner with a variety of nuts and fruits, as well as several types of special gingerbread cookies. The two-week feast known as Russian Christmastide, or Svyatki, was celebrated after the orthodox Christmas on January 7th through Epiphany on January 19th. Activities during this period were more closely associated with pagan traditions and included singing, dancing, carnivals and fortune telling.

After the 1917 Revolution, Christmas was banned throughout Russia along with other religious celebrations. It wasn’t until 75 years later, in 1992, that the holiday was once again openly observed.

Bibliography: Massie, Suzanne. The Land of the Firebird: The Beauty of Old Russia. New York: Simon & Schuster, Inc., 1980.


Ally Broadfield lives in Texas and is convinced her house is shrinking, possibly because she shares it with three kids, five dogs, two cats, a rabbit, and several reptiles. Oh, and her husband. She likes to curse in Russian and spends most of her spare time letting dogs in and out of the house and shuttling kids around. She writes historical romance and middle grade/young adult fantasy. Her first book, Just a Kiss, is coming from Entangled Publishing in January 2014.
You can find Ally on her website, Facebook, and Twitter (though she makes no claims of using any of them properly).



Tuesday, December 17, 2013

To Dream of Langston by Mairi Norris

Welcome today to History Undressed, guest author, Mairi Norris! She's here to share a little history behind her new release, To Dream of Langston! Enjoy!

Thanks so much, Eliza for hosting me on History Undressed today. This is an exciting time for me because I just published my first book, To Dream of Langston, on September 30. It's great to have an opportunity to chat a little about the book.

To Dream of Langston is the "book of my heart". It's a coming of age novel featuring Katherine Fairbanks, a young doctor's daughter who loses her first love, is betrayed into a false marriage to man who is a member of a white slavery guild, and is then rescued by the man who is her destiny, a man whom she has dreamed of since her childhood.

When I began writing To Dream of Langston, I envisioned the Fairbanks family living in a fictional town (Heathcrest) that straddled a highway that ran north to south from London all the way up into Scotland. At the time, I had no idea that in reality, just such a road existed. As I began to research the area of North Yorkshire, I came across references to the Great North Road. It was exciting to make that discovery, although in order to accommodate the placement of Heathcrest where I wanted it in North Yorkshire, I had to create a non-existent branch of the road to reach it.

The Great North Road is ancient. A great slash of rutted (or muddy, if it rained) dirt, it stretched from London to Edinburgh, with a major nexus in the city of York. The Romans used it in their efforts to conquer the land. Coaching inns sprang up along it to accommodate those who journeyed. Kings and queens moved militaries to war upon it and at various times tolls were issued to raise capital. Royalty and noblemen, tradesmen and peasants and pilgrims traveled it. Highwaymen preyed upon them all.

Sir Walter Scott thought traveling it dull. Cromwell's grandfather owned a coaching inn along it. Such diverse personages as St. Cuthbert and Bonnie Prince Charlie wandered sections of it.

So much history, myth/legend and literature surround this incredible highway that one can only touch upon it in a blog. But while Sir Scott might have thought traveling it dull, I found all these accounts fascinating.

The British A-1 Highway follows the general course of the Great North Road, but one can still travel actual sections of the ancient path by leaving A-1 for the towns (and surviving coaching inns) that graced it. I was fortunate to travel a short distance along the old route while passing through North Yorkshire last year.


Back Cover "Blurb" for To Dream of Langston:


From the wild, beautiful landscape of the moorlands of England's North Yorkshire to the rolling bluegrass pastures of Kentucky, one [young] woman's passion carries her from love's first bloom to a love everlasting.

On the brink of womanhood, young Katherine Fairbanks glories in the sweet love of the boy next door. When her life is brutally ripped apart by tragedy, she believes she will never love again and seeks only peace for her life. But betrayal sweeps her across the sea and lands her in the hands of a man she dares not trust.

Thoroughbred breeder Jayce Langston has little interest in taking a wife. His time is consumed with the struggle to help his family recover from the devastations of America's Civil War. When a beautiful, mysterious woman pursued by thugs drops in a deep swoon at his feet as he leaves a New York club, Jayce is both captivated and intrigued. He returns with her to his Kentucky stud farm in hopes of learning her identity.

 Together, they must work against terrifying odds to secure a future where love triumphs over loss.

An Excerpt from To Dream of Langston:

Katherine promptly wrapped her arms round Jamie's waist. She trembled as if with a chill.
“I love you so much,” she said into his shirtfront.
It took a bit o’ doing, but he got his hand under her chin and lifted, surprised to find tears in her eyes. She pinched her bottom lip tightly between her teeth, but still it quivered.
“I love you, too. Forever and a day.”
A sudden thought caught him, a memory from the tales o’ the old days in the Highlands that his ma told afore the fire on winter eves. He caught his breath. Would she agree?
“Kate, I’ve an idea.” Excitement jogged his words like grasshoppers gone mad.
Sure of her attention, he said, “Would ye handfast wi’ me? Here, now?”
She blinked, and looked a bit dazed, as well she might. ’Twas a daft idea, but the more he thought on it, the more certain he was o’ its rightness.
“You want to handfast? But it’s not a legal ceremony.”
“Aye, sure, I ken. But it would bind us forever and a day. Would ye no’ like that?”
“I thought handfasting was for ‘a year and a day’.”
“Och, it depends on the time and place. But just between us, I’d rather we promise forever. What say ye?”
The glory o’ her smile had his heart thudding.
“I’d like it very much. Shall we do it up here, with the wind in our hair and the entire dale in our sight, or down by the pond, where we can hear the splash of the water.”
“Which do ye want?”
“Both!”
He laughed. “Weel, since it isnae legal and we're doin’ it all helter-skelter like, I reck it willnae matter if we do it twice. It will just make it twice as bindin’. Give me the ribbon from yer hair.”
In no time, her braid was unraveled.
“Now give me yer hand.”
He spoke as he wrapped the ribbon—fiery copper to match the strands in her hair—around their wrists in a loose figure eight. “I, James MacCorkin, will take ye, Katherine Fairbanks, to my wedded wife, forever and a day, and thereby I plight my troth to ye.”
With the last word, he finished the binding. Her hand trembled within the warmth of his. He tightened his grip, thinking he could happily drown in the luminous joy infusing the blue depths o’ her eyes. The breeze freshened, playing with his hair but performing a dance o’ sheer glee with hers.
She spoke her vow and in the saying, he discerned the unswerving devotion o’ her soul.
“I, Katherine Fairbanks, will take thee, James MacCorkin, to my wedded husband, forever and a day, and thereby I plight to thee my troth.”
Jamie’s left hand slipped into his pocket. “It’s tradition for the handfasted couple to exchange gifts at this time. I…I brought this for ye, meanin’ to give it to ye this day. Now seems a verra appropriate time.”
He opened his fist. Upon his palm lay a golden circle, smooth and unadorned. “It’s no’ the ring I wanted for ye, but it was bought wi’ my own coin. I meant it for our betrothal, but now it seals our handfastin’, too. See ye, I had it engraved wi’ our given names on the inside o’ the band.”
He slid the band onto her finger. His gaze returned to her face, where sparkling tears veined cheeks glowing blush with the wind and the strength of her ardor.
“Aw, Kate.”
“It’s just…so b-beautiful, my darling. The day is beautiful, and the ceremony and the ring, and you are beautiful! But I have no gift for you.”
She thinks me ‘beautiful’?
Jamie tried to convince himself the heat washing over his face was naught but too much sun. Still, a man could be called worse, even by the woman he loved.
“Ye’ve gifted me wi’ yerself, Kate, wi’ yer future and sweet love, and I need none greater. Besides, ye couldnae have known we’d be doin’ this. O’ course, I wouldnae fuss if ye gave me somethin’ later.”
She laughed, and he wiped away the traces o’ her tears. “There is one gift ye can give right now, my Kate.”
Standing as she was on the hill a little below him, she had to lift onto her toes to reach him. The kiss was gentle, sweet and as binding as their vows.

Contact MĂ iri:
Website:
http://www.romancingtheeras.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/mairi.norris
Buy Link for To Dream of Langston:
http://www.amazon.com/To-Dream-Langston-MĂ iri-Norris-ebook/dp/B00FISPO4Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1386163331&sr=8-1&keywords=mairi+norris+to+dream+of+langston


Eliza, thanks again for having me today.



Tuesday, December 3, 2013

New Release: Daughter of the Nile by Stephanie Dray

Good morning!

I'm so pleased to share with you all the release of my good friend, Stephanie Dray's latest historical fantasy, Daughters of the Nile, the third book in her Cleopatra Selene series. I thoroughly devoured the first two books in the series and I can't wait to read this one! Perfect timing for my month of December read-a-thon, where I catch up on all the books on my TBR!



From critically acclaimed historical fantasy author, Stephanie Dray comes the long-awaited new tale based on the true story of Cleopatra's daughter.


After years of abuse as the emperor’s captive in Rome, Cleopatra Selene has found a safe harbor. No longer the pitiful orphaned daughter of the despised Egyptian Whore, the twenty year old is now the most powerful queen in the empire, ruling over the kingdom of Mauretania—an exotic land of enchanting possibility where she intends to revive her dynasty. With her husband, King Juba II and the magic of Isis that is her birthright, Selene brings prosperity and peace to a kingdom thirsty for both. But when Augustus Caesar jealously demands that Selene’s children be given over to him to be fostered in Rome, she’s drawn back into the web of imperial plots and intrigues that she vowed to leave behind. Determined and resourceful, Selene must shield her loved ones from the emperor’s wrath, all while vying with ruthless rivals like King Herod. Can she find a way to overcome the threat to her marriage, her kingdom, her family, and her faith? Or will she be the last of her line?

Read the Reviews

"A stirring story of a proud, beautiful, intelligent woman whom a 21st century reader can empathize with. Dray's crisp, lush prose brings Selene and her world to life." ~RT Book Reviews

"The boldest, and most brilliant story arc Dray has penned..." ~Modge Podge Reviews

"If you love historical fiction and magical realism, these books are for you." ~A Bookish Affair


Read an Excerpt


Below me, six black Egyptian cobras dance on their tails, swaying. I watch their scaled hoods spread wide like the uraeus on the crown of Egypt. Even from this height, I'm paralyzed by the sight of the asps, their forked tongues flickering out between deadly fangs. I don't notice that I'm gripping the balustrade until my knuckles have gone white, all my effort concentrated upon not swooning and falling to my death.
And I would swoon if I were not so filled with rage. Someone has arranged for this. Someone who knows what haunts me. Someone who wants to send me a message and make this occasion a moment of dread. My husband, the king must know it, for he calls down, "That's enough. We've seen enough of the snake charmer!"

There is commotion below, some upset at having displeased us. Then Chryssa hisses, "Who could think it a good idea to honor the daughter of Cleopatra by coaxing asps from baskets of figs?"

The story the world tells of my mother's suicide is that she cheated the emperor of his conquest by plunging her hand into a basket where a venomous serpent lay in wait. A legend only, some say, for the serpent was never found. But I was there. I brought her that basket. She was the one bitten but the poison lingers in my blood to this day. I can still remember the scent of figs in my nostrils, lush and sweet. The dark god Anubis was embroidered into the woven reeds of the basket, the weight of death heavy in my arms. I can still see my mother reach her hand into that basket, surrendering her life so that her children might go on without her. And I have gone on without her.

I have survived too much to be terrorized by the emperor's agents or whoever else is responsible for this.
If it is a message, a warning from my enemies, I have already allowed them too much of a victory by showing any reaction at all. So I adopt as serene a mask as possible. My daughter blinks her big blue eyes, seeing past my facade. "Are you frightened, Mother? They cannot bite us from there. The snakes are very far away."

I get my legs under me, bitterness on my tongue. "Oh, but they're never far enough away."

Available now in print and e-book!


Did you miss the first book in the series?


Available now in print and e-book!

STEPHANIE DRAY is a bestselling, multi-published, award-winning author of historical women’s fiction and fantasy set in the ancient world. Her critically acclaimed historical series about Cleopatra’s daughter has been translated into more than six different languages, was nominated for a RITA Award and won the Golden Leaf. Her focus on Ptolemaic Egypt and Augustan Age Rome has given her a unique perspective on the consequences of Egypt's ancient clash with Rome, both in terms of the still-extant tensions between East and West as well as the worldwide decline of female-oriented religion. Before she wrote novels, Stephanie was a lawyer, a game designer, and a teacher. Now she uses the transformative power of magic realism to illuminate the stories of women in history and inspire the young women of today. She remains fascinated by all things Roman or Egyptian and has-to the consternation of her devoted husband-collected a house full of cats and ancient artifacts.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Video of the Week: 28 Thanksgiving Things

The first Thanksgiving at Plymouth.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!


Today I'm posting a video I found hilarious...and a bit disturbing...




And a video that is a bit more historical...

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

History of Men’s Leg Wear (Pants) Through the Regency Era by Suzi Love

Welcome to History Undressed, Suzi Love!!! She's written a fascinating piece on Regency clothing for us -- specifically men's leg wear. Love it! Enjoy!

History of Men’s Leg Wear (Pants) Through the Regency Era
by Suzi Love

Many names have been used for men’s leg coverings through history : Latin braccae, loin-cloth, breech-cloth, breech-clout, braies,  britches, Scots Breeks, trousers, pants, pantaloons, knickerbockers, plus fours, jodhpurs etc. Or even Oxford bags, a baggy form of trousers worn by members of Oxford University , especially undergraduates, in England during the early 20th century.

By the early 1800s, men’s clothing was rapidly changing. Culottes, or knee breeches, and their previous distasteful association with rich aristocrats, particularly in France, were being replaced by first pantaloons, and then trousers. ‘Showing-a-leg’ no longer seemed important as clothing, and lifestyles, became more relaxed.


Breeches before the turn of the century were looser fitting around the hips and made of wool, cotton, or linen, while some silk breeches were still worn on very formal occasions or at court. But coats became  higher cut in the front, so waistcoats and pants were more exposed and the style of pants needed to change.  

Breeches were fall-fronted with a broad fall, the early ones being very wide, hip to hip,  and gradually becoming narrower, hip bone to hip bone. Waistbands were buttoned and then the fall closed and buttoned over the top like a bib. A French Fly was fastened down the centre, but Englishmen resisted this style as it was considered a racy French style.


Riding breeches, or buckskin breeches, were still worn for comfort. These were tighter fitting and had either, or both, button and ties for fastening at the knees. They became longer, to the tops of long boots, while for daywear, pantaloons and trousers replaced breeches.

The word ‘Pantaloon’ comes from the French pantalon, from Italian Pantaleone, a traditional character in 16th-century Italian comedy and literally means a covering for each leg from waist to ankle.


Trousers were fairly close fitting and ended around the ankles, with slits on the sides for foot access. Some had under-the-foot straps to keep them anchored in place. For day dress, stirrups were worn under the shoe but for evening wear, under the foot.

Evening dress pantaloons and trousers were generally of white or black kerseymere or cashmere. Peg-Top Trousers, named for a peg-top cone-shaped spinning top,  were wide and pleated at the top and had very narrow ankles.

Evening dress stockings, whether worn with breeches or pantaloons, were white or natural colored silk, though by the 1820s black silk was popular.

Suzi Love is an Australian author of historical romance, from Regency to early Victorian, and from sexy to erotic.

You can find more of her historical articles at http://www.suzilove.com
And more historical men’s fashion at :







Friday, November 22, 2013

Gracianna by Trini Amador -- Review + Giveaway!



I had the pleasure of reading a wonderful tale recently, based on the life of a real woman--Gracianna. It was fascinating and inspiring. I highly recommend it! Leave a comment for your chance to win a copy (US only).

About GRACIANNA


Publication Date: July 23, 2013
Greenleaf Book Group Press
Hardcover; 296p
ISBN-10: 1608325709

The gripping story of Gracianna–a French-Basque girl forced to make impossible decisions after being recruited into the French Resistance in Nazi-occupied Paris.

Gracianna is inspired by true events in the life of Trini Amador’s great-grandmother, Gracianna Lasaga. As an adult, Amador was haunted by the vivid memory of finding a loaded German Luger tucked away in a nightstand while wandering his great-grandmother’s home in Southern California. He was only four years old at the time, but the memory remained and he knew he had to explore the story behind the gun.

Decades later, Amador would delve into the remarkable odyssey of his Gracianna’s past, a road that led him to an incredible surprise. In Gracianna, Amador weaves fact and fiction to tell his great-grandmother’s story.

Gracianna bravely sets off to Paris in the early 1940s–on her way to America, she hopes–but is soon swept into the escalation of the war and the Nazi occupation of Paris. After chilling life-and-death struggles, she discovers that her missing sister has surfaced as a laborer in Auschwitz. When she finds an opportunity to fight back against the Nazis to try to free her sister, she takes it–even if it means using lethal force.

As Amador tells the imagined story of how his great-grandmother risked it all, he delivers richly drawn characters and a heart-wrenching page-turner that readers won’t soon forget.

My Review



I absolutely enjoy reading books about people who really lived, and with Gracianna, I had a particular interest, given that members of my own family had lived through the difficulties of World War II. Even more intriguing is that the author is the great-grandson of Gracianna. He isn't simply reliving the past through research, but also through personal connection, and while a lot of it is imagined, we can't help but hope that Gracianna is truly this heroine that Mr. Amador brings to life.

Gracianna is a woman with heart and dreams. She doesn't accept the life she's told she must live, but strives for more, believes wholeheartedly that there is more to her future than working her fingers to the bone as a maid in a small village. And so instead of just dreaming like so many women of her time did, she takes life by the horns and demands satisfaction. She travels to Paris and hopes to soon make her way to America. But then the terror of war hits close to home. Paris is occupied by Nazis. Gracianna's own sister is in the hands of enemy, and she must find a way to free her at all costs. The story deals with an intense and terrifying time. A dark and gritty period in history that will leave you both cringing and praying and turning the pages.

A powerful, poignant page-turner, Gracianna takes you into the darkest parts of humanity and shows you that strength of human spirit can prevail over evil. 

Praise for Gracianna


“Gracianna is a riveting and remarkable narrative. The characters come alive through their unassuming but compelling stories, as Nazi-occupied Paris unfolds before our eyes. We come to care deeply about the characters, which makes putting down the book almost impossible. Highly recommended.” – Stacey Katz Bourns, Director of Language Programs, Dept. of Romance Languages and Literatures, Harvard University

“While wine is obviously a significant part of life’s enjoyment, the story behind the wine can be even more gratifying. You will be fixated on this thrilling story written by Trini Amador which was inspired by Gracianna, his great-grandmother, the French Basque namesake of his family’s award-winning winery in Sonoma County.” – Bob Cabral, Director of Winemaking & General Manager, Williams Selyem Winery

“Gracianna is a gripping story about human courage and determination. This book truly deserves a movie because of the action and emotions in it. Trini Amador has done a fantastic job in bringing the story of his amazing grandmother to life. A must read for fiction and non-fiction lovers alike.” —Felipe Korzenny, Ph.D., Director of the Center for Hispanic Marketing Communication, Florida State University.

About the Author


Trini Amador vividly remembers the day he found a loaded German Luger tucked away in a nightstand while wandering through his great-grandmother’s home in Southern California. He was only four years old at the time, but the memory remained and he knew he had to explore the story behind the gun. This experience sparked a journey towards Gracianna, Amador’s debut novel, inspired by true events and weaving reality with imagination. It’s a tale drawing from real-life family experiences.

Mr. Amador is a traveled global marketing “insighter.” He is a sought-after guru teaching multinational brand marketers to understand how customer and consumer segments behave based on their needs, values, motivations, feeling and values. He has trained over five thousand brand marketers on how to grow brands in over 20 countries in the last 15 years. His counseling has been valued at global brands including General Electric, Microsoft, AT&T, Yahoo!, Sun Microsystems, Google, Jack Daniel’s, The J.M. Smucker Co., DuPont, Mattel, and Rodale, Inc..

Amador is also a founding partner with his wife and children of Gracianna Winery, an award-winning winery located in Healdsburg, California. The winery also pays tribute to the Amador Family’s maternal grandmother, Gracianna Lasaga. Her message of being thankful lives on through them. The Gracianna winery strives to keep Gracianna’s gratitude alive through their wine. Learn more at: www.gracianna.com, like Gracianna Winery on Facebook or follow them on Twitter @GraciannaWinery.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Castle of the Week: Dunstaffnage Castle by Vonda Sinclair

Welcome back to History Undressed, my good friend, Vonda Sinclair! She's sharing with us today Dunstaffnage Castle, where she visited recently. Fascinating post, awesome pics! Enjoy!

Dunstaffnage Castle
By Vonda Sinclair

Dunstaffnage Castle sits on a rocky promontory where Loch Etive meets the Firth of Lorn in Argyll, not too far from Oban.  The name Dunstaffnage comes from the Gaelic  dun or 'fort' and two Norse words, stafr 'staff' and nes 'promontory'. Staff may refer to an office-bearer or official. This castle guarded the approach from the sea to the Pass of Brander which leads to the heart of Scotland.

Those who visited the castle found good anchorage in Dunstaffnage Bay. It still serves this purpose and you will usually see yachts anchored in the bay.

Dunstaffnage Bay
Dunstaffnage was built around the year 1220, probably by Duncan MacDougall, grandson of the famous and powerful Somerled. At this time, Argyll was the dividing line between the kingdom of Scotland and Norway. Neither king controlled the area, and by 1150 it was ruled by Somerled, a half-Norse, half-Gaelic warlord. He seized the Kingdom of the Isles from his brother-in-law and ruled until his death. When Somerled died, his kingdom passed to his three sons. Dougall (spelled Dubhgall in Gaelic), the oldest, became Lord of Lorn. Duncan was his son.

Stone steps of the castle
Dunstaffnage is one of the oldest stone castles in Scotland and it served as residence for lords for over five hundred years. It was only abandoned in 1810.

The curtain wall and three projecting towers survive from the 13th century as does the nearby chapel. As you approach the castle, you will see a strong, forbidding fortification. It's easy to see how it would have intimidated those who might have wanted to attack.

The castle has a long and violent history. It served as a key locale during the 14th century Wars of Independence. Later it served as a stronghold of the Campbells, earls of Argyll. The Campbells earned the king's favor, and therefore power, by policing the region, especially the Western Isles, against uprisings of clans such as the MacDonalds.

Although trees surround the castle now, back when it was a fortified castle, it offered its residents expansive views over the Firth of Lorn and Loch Etive.

From inside the castle
The castle sits on high rocky promontory, and the walls rise more than 6 more meters. The original tops of the walls are gone, so it's unknown if they were battlemented or covered in a timber structure. Excavations show that the castle was originally surrounded by an eight meter wide ditch. The only openings in the landward side of the curtain were narrow arrow slits. After 1500 these were blocked up and even smaller gun loops inserted.

Another view inside the castle
The original castle had no projecting corner towers, just the massive 11 feet thick walls. The stonework would not have been visible. The walls would've been harled (coated with white lime render.) Harling provides a long-lasting weatherproof shield and was often used on Scottish castles and other buildings. Traces of the harling still survive at Dunstaffnage.

Duncan's son Ewen probably built the three round towers onto the castle, and constructed or enlarged the hall inside.

Gatehouse
The building above the entrance, which looks like a house, is the gatehouse. It was rebuilt in the late 1500s. When we were visiting, repairs were being made on it. I didn't take many pictures of the scaffolding and tarps. :) The Captain of Dunstaffnage resided in the gatehouse. The man who filled this role in the 1500s probably had this gatehouse built to replace the poor accommodation of the old donjon. The gatehouse is three floors with one room on each floor. We were not allowed inside nor near it with the repairs to the roof, etc.


Entrance
The entrance dates from the late 15th century when the Campbells took over the castle. The doorway is within a pointed arch recess. The stone steps leading up to it were built around 1720. Before that, there must have been a drawbridge over the huge ditch. Evidence of a drawbridge pit remains.

Donjon
The donjon is a dilapidated tower at the north corner. This is the largest of the three towers and was added around 1250. It was built to allow archers a better view of the outer faces of the wall and to furnish the lord with better accommodation. It was probably three stories high. The ground floor was a storage cellar with no stairs leading from it to the upper floors. It had three arrow slits. The upper part held the lord's hall and chamber. There is a spiral stair linking the two and in it a latrine, sometimes called a garderobe.

The wall-walk
From the beginning, the castle had a wall-walk around the landward facing walls of the castle. This allowed the garrison to keep an eye out and defend this vulnerable side of the castle. The wall-walk has been repaired so visitors can walk on it. There's a great view from up here.

The courtyard
The area of the castle wall below the wall-walk has several recesses which originally gave access to narrow arrow slits. Later they were altered for guns. There may have been buildings here in early times.

The chapel
The chapel ruin sits in a woodland behind the castle. It was a family chapel, serving the lord's household, instead of the parish. The remains show that it was once an extraordinary building which shows the wealth and sophistication of its builder, Duncan MacDougall. No other chapel of this date in mainland Scotland can match it for quality. It is 65 feet long and was at one time divided by a timber screen into a nave and chancel. The architecture was inspired by Irish churches but some features are similar to other churches in the area, such as Iona. It likely had elaborate arched doorways. The photo shows one of the paired lancet windows in the chancel. By 1740 the chapel was in ruins.



My Notorious Highlander: Chief Torrin MacLeod vows to possess and wed the spirited lady who stole his heart the previous winter. But Lady Jessie MacKay wants naught to do with the dangerous warrior, no matter how devilishly handsome and charming he is. When Torrin arrives unexpectedly at Jessie's home, along with Gregor MacBain, a man Jessie was formerly handfasted to, she is thrown off-kilter. She never wanted to see either man again, but now they are vying for her hand. Torrin promises to protect her from the devious MacBain, but how can she trust Torrin when she has witnessed how lethal he is?

The more time Torrin spends with the strong and independent Jessie, the more determined he is to win her heart. Once she allows him a kiss, he feels her passion flame as hot as his own. After she knows Torrin better, Jessie finds herself falling for the fearsome Highlander. But the odds are stacked against them. The sinister MacBain is bent on kidnapping Jessie, making her his bride and killing Torrin, while Jessie's conniving younger brother, Haldane, is determined to use Jessie to take over the castle in his older brother's absence. Jessie fears she can never be with the man she loves, while Torrin will do everything in his power to ensure they are together forever. In his heart, she is the only lady for him.




Vonda Sinclair’s favorite indulgent pastime is exploring Scotland, from Edinburgh to the untamed and windblown north coast. She also enjoys creating hot Highland heroes and spirited lasses to drive them mad. Her historical romances have won an EPIC Award and a National Readers' Choice Award. She lives with her amazing and supportive husband in the mountains of North Carolina where she is no doubt creating another Scottish story.