Dear Reader,
It goes without saying that Ford didn’t invent frames to hold spectacles on the face—credit for that goes to a London optician named Edward Scarlett, who came up with the idea in 1730. The first spectacles for reading were made in the late 13th century (and the first ones for distance about 300 years later), but before Scarlett’s innovation they were simply held to the face or balanced on the nose—momentarily helpful, but not something one could wear all day long. I like to think that if Ford Chase had really lived, he’d have been brilliant enough to invent eyeglass frames half a century earlier.
Although the minute hand began appearing on watches around 1675, it’s not clear who managed it first. Obviously someone missed a chance at a profitable patent! Everyone agrees the two-handed watch was developed in England, but some historians claim that Daniel Quare was the first to sell such a timepiece, while some say it was Thomas Tompion or others. But what does seem to be clear is that the minute hand was made possible by Robert Hooke’s 1660 invention of the spiral spring, which brought watches from a totally unpredictable performance to within two or three minutes’ accuracy a day.
A true genius, Robert Hooke did much more than revolutionize timekeeping; he also made important contributions in chemistry, meteorology, astronomy, and physics. Other scientists of the time are much revered today, including Isaac Newton, Christopher Wren, and Robert Boyle. Yet Hooke has been largely forgotten. Newton and Wren were both knighted, so why not Hooke, arguably a greater scientist? In 2003, Gresham College marked the 300th year of Hooke’s death by a series of lectures designed to resurrect his reputation.
Gresham College has provided free public lectures in London for over 400 years. Over time, it’s occupied several different locations. The lectures currently take place at Barnard’s Inn Hall, in a building that dates from the late 14th century. To see the upcoming schedule, visit the college’s website at www.gresham.ac.uk.
The Royal Society really was welcomed back to Gresham College in 1673, “with six quarts of each of canary, of Rhenish wine and of claret, and with fine cakes, macaroons and march-panes,” as the City Archives describe an account of their entertainment. But the actual date of the celebration was Monday, December 1. I took the liberty of tweaking history a bit in moving the event to the warm summertime, so Ford could decorate the piazza. All of the people I mentioned at the ball were members at the time, including John Evelyn, best known for his diary that has given us a window into the Restoration period, and John Locke, whose ideas were a powerful influence on the subsequent history of the Western world. Thomas Jefferson called Locke one of “the three greatest men that have ever lived, without any exception,” and drew heavily on his writings in drafting the Declaration of Independence.
Along with these men of note, I enjoyed bringing Hooke and the other scientists—and yes, alchemists—to life. Although the mere idea of making gold from base metals is a laughable one today, up until the mid-18th century it was considered a serious science. During the 1600s, most of the luminaries of the day practiced alchemy, King Charles included. Ironically, it was his chartering of the Royal Society that eventually led to alchemy’s decline. In that ordered environment, modern chemistry and the new scientific methods taught men to free themselves from the old traditions and question theories that had prevailed for centuries.
Although I invented the title Secrets of the Emerald Tablet, Alexander the Great did claim to have discovered the Emerald Tablet in the tomb of the legendary Hermes, and medieval alchemist Raymond Lully was said to have written a treatise about it that subsequently disappeared. No one knows the title, however, and although other writings attributed to Lully survive, that particular one was never found.
A combination marriage manual and advice to midwives, Aristotle’s Master-piece first appeared in the late 1600s and by the turn of the century was a veritable bestseller—likely to be found in any newlywed couple’s home. All of the words Violet read were actual passages from the book. Reflecting the attitudes of the time, this book presented marital sex as an act of pleasure without sin or guilt. In later years, of course, society became much more strait-laced about such matters… although the Master-piece saw countless reprintings up until about 1900, in Victorian times the chapter Chrystabel cut from Violet’s copy was completely removed from the book!
As usual, the homes we used in this story were based on real ones that you can visit. Though we moved it to the Thames, Lakefield House was loosely modeled on Snowshill Manor in Gloucestershire. Snowshill was owned by Winchcombe Abbey from the year 821 until the reign of Henry VIII in the 16th century, when, with the dissolution of the monasteries, it passed to the Crown. Thereafter it had many owners and tenants until 1919, when a man named Charles Paget Wade returned from the First World War and found it for sale. The house was derelict, the garden an overgrown jumble of weeds, including—of course!—a sundial. Wade bought Snowshill and restored it, removing the plaster ceilings, moving partitions back to their original places, unblocking fireplaces, and fitting Tudor paneling to many of the rooms to recapture the original atmosphere. He scorned the use of electricity and modern conveniences, so the house appears today much as it would have during Ford’s time. Wade never lived in the house, instead using it to showcase his amazing collection of everyday and curious objects, literally thousands of items including musical instruments, clocks, toys, bicycles, weavers’ and spinners’ tools, and Japanese armor. The home is now owned by the National Trust and open April through October to view the house and collection.
Trentingham Manor was inspired by another National Trust property, The Vyne in Hampshire (which we also relocated to sit on the banks of the Thames). Built in the early 16th century for Lord Sandys, Henry VIII’s Lord Chamberlain, the house acquired a classical portico in the mid-17th century (the first of its kind in England) and contains a grand Palladian staircase, a wealth of old paneling and fine furniture, and a fascinating Tudor chapel with Renaissance glass. The Vyne and its extensive gardens are also open for visits from April through October.
I hope you enjoyed The Viscount’s Wallflower Bride! Next up is Lily’s story in The Baron’s Inconvenient Bride. Please read on for an excerpt as well as more bonus material!
Always,