Places stayed. Hovingham – one free night. The Worsley Arms.
Easingwold – The George Hotel.
Places would stay again – 1
Places visited. Hovingham, Coxwold, Helmsley, Easingwold, York, Ampleforth Estates.
Places driven through by mistake…rather a lot. …
Places not stayed. The Old Vicarage Easingwold now closed.
Hecklers spotted- One
Pubs visited – The George Hotel, Easingwold, Yorkshire Terrier, Three Legged Mare, Guy Fawkes,York. Fauconberg Arms, Coxwold -where Malice spent her non wedding night with her her cousin/hubby in the Viking and The Coutesan backstory. The Malt and Shovel, Hovingham.
Faux Pubs – The Cricketers Arms, Hovingham.
Alcohol consumed – No telling.
Dundee mentions – one
‘Twice, the sight of him had almost caused her to expire. When she had walked into the church at Coxwold and seen him standing there with a carnation in his lapel—their wedding day—and then that night in his apartment. Very well. She lied. It was thrice. When she had knocked on the door of his room at the little inn across from the church.
Now, seeing him chucking wine down his throat as if the vineyard was about to run dry, casting his eye over some serving girl–her backside rather—and wagering what Lady Grace possessed, nausea rose in her gorge. When she considered a man who made her heart pound–a man who she should not be thinking of here–her heart also pounded wastefully. Whatever the problem with Cyril—and there were a good twenty dozen—you knew where you stood with him. That was nowhere at all.
She glided closer. She had come to speak with him, wife to husband. And she had chosen here to do it because it was public. Those who thought the sun shone from the backend of his brown velvet breeches had a lot to learn.
Of course, she might have known Cyril would be more interested in looking at her breasts than her face. Maybe she should have ventured in here topless? Still, at least he was looking at her.
Now that jerked his chin up. If ever there was a way to bring a dog to heel, this was surely it.
“I knew I should find you here before me, my dearest. And involved in a wager too. My lords, you must excuse Cyril, especially when he does not possess the money to pay any debts. And, we are shortly to require every penny we own.”
“Malice?” He peered at her closely. “Malice? Is that you?”
“Most certainly it’s not Aunt Carter’s silver teapot, my dearest husband.”
copyright Shehanne Moore Soul Mate Publishing.
Are we serious here?
Come on, aye? It cannae be this much
I am checking the props’ list
It went this way like the script did every night.
Fraid so.. Here’s the photographic evidence
The Duke of Sutherland clears the Highlands
Charles Trevelyn clears Ireland
Miss Perfect fae Perth
No that’s NOT William Wallace it’s my daughter….HONEST
‘The Romans find the Scottish weather is not to their liking. Shoulda brocht a brolly wi Italia on it
India has enough of the Jute Wallahs
When it comes to McGonagall as Macbeth it’s Macbeth’s death take one. The only genuine retake in the whole show.
Em takes up tour guiding
Are you two licensed to give tours? …Play’s either….Nice adlib Richard…
Does it look like it…?
What a goal….
Churchill inspects the Dundee contingent
Hecklers hard at work AND due a break…
The Jute Mill Song
Behind the scenes
Charles Trevelyn, Dundee, Dundee Play, Frankenstein, John Quinn, Joseph Lee, Jute, Mary Brooksbank, Mary Slessor, O halflins an hecklers an weavers an weemin, Play, Shoestring Theatre, William McGonagall, William Wallace, Winston Churchill, writing
Ken : – In 1942 Annie’s grandson is in the North African desert. Near a place called El Alamein. He’s never been abroad before… (Exit put on Churchill hat.)
Em : – … unless you count a summer holiday to the seaside…at Broughty Ferry! Now in the North African Desert Boab’s future career plans don’t involve jute. ( Three WW2 soldiers kick ball.)
Boab : – What a goal! When the war’s ower I’m gonna be a professional – I’m no goin back to work in a mull an deh afore meh time like meh granny.
Tam : – Deh afore yir time? Yir in a war!
Boab : – Hope an faith! Besides jute’s on the wey oot.
(Kick the ball again. Enter Officer.)
Officer : – (Bellowing) Get that ball away and get fell in. On parade now!
Boab : What’s this aboot, Sir?
Officer : Yours not to reason why soldier!
( Churchill enters.)
Officer : – The men are ready for your inspection now Prime Minister (Churchill stops to speak to Dan )
Churchill : – Where are you from soldier?
Dan : – Dundee! (Churchill shudders and turns to Tam)
Churchill : – Where are you from soldier?
Tam: – Dundee!
(Dan walks round Tam so he is next in line.)
Churchill : – Where are you from soldier?
Dan : – (Cheeky.) Dundee.
(Tam walks round Dan.)
Churchill : – (Horrified) Where are you from soldier?
Tam – Dundee…..
Churchill : – (To Boab.) Where are you from soldier?
Boab : – Dundee. Got flung oot o’ the mulls– but you got flung oot o’ the toon!
(Exit horrified Churchill.)
Officer : – It’s the guardroom for you soldier! OOT. (Exit. Dragging.)
Em : – Bob, from a heckling tradition was sentenced to fourteen days in a military jail for insulting the Great War Lord and the leader of the Nation. Bob never became a professional footballer but…he had a story to tell his grandchildren. (End of scene. Song. ‘If Dundee Was Africa’)
Shey’s guidebook and bag
The Indian servants get ready to deal with the jute wallah. Today Shey’s the only one here handing all the props to herself.
Our stage and property manager takes a permanent break from acting by joining the management instead.
The back o’ Shey’s book
The official tour guide takes charge
Our sound guy from last year smiles with relief that this year he’s got a gig elsewhere
As we set up for the Indian rammy, it looks friendly
Get up the road ye young ****** ……
An American visitor is selfie daft where the official guide, Ken the Irish famine contingent and the Dundee jute workers are concerned.
Shey struts it as a singing suffragette, belting out Vote, Vote, Vote for Neddy Scrymgeour. Broad Dundee words BUT with a post accent….
one of the new crop of placards after a few of last year’s bloopers….
Dundee, Frankenstein, Ian Fleming, James Bond, John Quinn, Joseph Lee, Literary Heritage, Mary Brooksbank, Mary Shelley, O halflins an hecklers an weavers an weemin, The Jute Mill Song, Verdant Works, William McGonagall
James Bond and the Dundee connection https://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/2017/03/27/james-bond-and-the-dundee-connection/
Mary Brooksbank and Susan Devine, the mysterious woman in the green felt hat. From ‘O Halflins and Hecklers an Weavers an Weemin,’ by John Quinn.
Susan Devine : – Mary Brooksbank! What are you daein here – you’re still a lassie!.
Mary : – Eh’m here tae learn fae you Susan Devine how tae fight back against the brutality o’ Capitalism and the Jute Barons!
Susan : – Well said. We’ve got a good crowd today.( Policeman appears. Susan gives him the finger. )
Policeman : – What’s going on here?
Susan : – (Ignoring him) Cox Brothers have decided to cut the number in a squad fae ten tae eight and lay off thousands. For the people that remain that means mair work for less money!
(Chants from everyone onstage. ‘Everybody Out! Everybody Out! Everybody Out!)
Susan : – Right you are – and we’re staying out until everybody’s re-instated. (Starts chant. All join in ) ‘March doon the Lochee Road girls. March doon the Lochee Road!’
Policeman : – You can’t do that without permission – you need a licence!
Mary Brooksbank : – Is that so? Well there’s a lot o’ women here and no many men…..
Policeman : – I’ll need reinforcements!(Blows whistle. Exit.)
Susan : – Roond tae Cox’s hoose at Clement Park. An we’ll tour the ither mills fur support. (All chanting and marching round) ‘We’re gonna win an we’ll pit their windees in. We’re gonna win an we’ll pit their windees in.. .fur we are the weemin o’Lochee! (Takes off green felt hat and throws to Em. Marches off brandishing shuttle.)
Mary Brooksbank : – And they didnae go back until the fowk that had been laid aff were re-instated. There were major disputes elsewhere such as the Carters’ Strike. The spirit of revolution was in the air. But of course the Jute Empire struck back. Black Watch soldiers were brought into the City of their heartlands to keep order. Early in 1912 Cox Brothers sanctioned the purchase of revolvers for their foremen. And Susan Devine? She melts back into history. Me? I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.
Em : – Susan Devine didnae quite melt back into history. (Brandish hat.) This is still remembered round here sometimes. (Get Suffragette hat and shawl.)
Ken : – As for Mary Brooksbank she was quite a woman – mill girl poet orator revolutionary family woman and voice of the poor. She was blacklisted and jailed for standing up to be counted. What can never be jailed though is her legacy
Castle of the Thousand Passions by Catherine Cavendish.
Castle of the Thousand Passions by Catherine Cavendish.
‘I have set a large part of Waking the Ancients in Vienna, Austria where many ghosts and restless spirits walk among the verdant parks and lavish palaces. But Austrian ghosts do not confine themselves to their nation’s imperial capital. They can be found in towns, cities, villages and the depths of the countryside all over this beautiful land.
Also known as Schloss Altenburg, Schloss Tausendlust (Castle of the Thousand Passions) was built in the second half of the 16th century by Alexander Rüdt von Khollenburg, although it is first mentioned as a farm in the earlier part of that century. It is likely there was an earlier medieval castle on the site but this has not been excavated and today the house is a private residence. It changed hands a number of times over the centuries, belonging to Adam Gabelkhofer in 1605 and passing to his daughter, who sold the estate in 1650 to Christof Rudolf Freiherr von Eibiswald. He gave it back a year later, unable to make a living from the small income supplied by winemaking.
The Haydegg family acquired it and sold it in 1740 and there were more changes of ownership until, in 1790, Anton Schellenbauer Alternberg acquired it. He hailed from Lower Austria and had acquired extreme wealth and a noble title. He also had a reputation for appalling cruelty to his farmers and labourers.
Official history states that he was caught in 1817, arrested and charged with fraud, and was stripped of his nobility, dying in detention in 1829.
But legends go further.
It is said that, one night, his abused workers decided enough was enough. They stormed the house and Schellenbauer hid in the closet. His valet told them where he could be found and they hauled him out. He had hidden from them for years, now they would have their revenge. Using four oxen, they set about tearing him limb from limb.
It is his ghost who, to this day, haunts the small castle. He is most frequently seen near that same closet, which contains a secret passageway or in the castle grounds. Especially on stormy nights.
Following the demise of Schellenbauer, the castle’s fortunes declined sharply. Lightning had destroyed the tower in 1825 and by 1878, most of the castle had fallen into ruin and it was used solely as a winery. It was eventually purchased by the Nyary family in 1903 and an inscription of 1911 above the family coat of arms, shows that major rebuilding began then, and included the construction of a bell tower, under which a chapel was built.
Today, following yet more extensive renovation under its current owners, its beautiful grounds are particularly noted for the magnificent magnolia trees, which bloom in spring. The castle lies on the hill between the villages of Hitzendorf and Berndorf and provides a delightful sight for passers-by.
As for the ghost, the current owners are keeping quiet.
The same cannot be said for Dr. Emeryk Quintillus…
Waking the Ancients
Legacy In Death
University student Lizzie Charters accompanies her mentor, Dr. Emeryk Quintillus, on the archeological dig to uncover Cleopatra’s tomb. Her presence is required for a ceremony conducted by the renowned professor to resurrect Cleopatra’s spirit—inside Lizzie’s body. Quintillus’s success is short-lived, as the Queen of the Nile dies soon after inhabiting her host, leaving Lizzie’s soul adrift . . .
Paula Bancroft’s husband just leased Villa Dürnstein, an estate once owned by Dr. Quintillus. Within the mansion are several paintings and numerous volumes dedicated to Cleopatra. But the archeologist’s interest in the Egyptian empress deviated from scholarly into supernatural, infusing the very foundations of his home with his dark fanaticism. And as inexplicable manifestations rattle Paula’s senses, threatening her very sanity, she uncovers the link between the villa, Quintillus, and a woman named Lizzie Charters.
And a ritual of dark magic that will consume her soul . . .
You can find Waking the Ancients here:
‘I have read all of Catherine Cavendish’s books. In addition to writing the kind of horror I love, she has a real knack for blending past and present. And this first part of this new series does not disappoint, opening and closing with the kind of spine-tingling bang where you just know that for her characters horror is everywhere and there’s no escaping it no matter how hard you run.
Pity poor sensible, not easily frightened, Adeline Ogilvie who not only has the misfortune to be a descendant of Cleopatra, but comes to realise there’s something nasty in the basement and that something might be the very person she’s related to. Then there’s Cleopatra’s one true love and it’s not the men history shows her to have been involved with either. Dr. Emeryk Quintillus will stop at nothing to resurrect his queen. And nothing will stop him.
That’s as many spoilers as I’m giving but I will add that not only does Catherine Cavendish effortlessly blend past and present, giving us all kinds of insights into ancient Egypt, her stomping ground for this book is early twentieth century Vienna, the coffee houses, the streets, the historical figures who graced them.
Bring on part two.’
About the Author:
Following a varied career in sales, advertising and career guidance, Catherine Cavendish is now the full-time author of a number of paranormal, ghostly and Gothic horror novels, novellas and short stories. Cat’s novels include the Nemesis of the Gods trilogy – Wrath of the Ancients, Waking the Ancients and Damned by the Ancients, plus The Devil’s Serenade, The Pendle Curse and Saving Grace Devine. She lives with her long-suffering husband, and a black cat who has never forgotten that her species used to be worshipped in ancient Egypt. She sees no reason why that practice should not continue. Cat and her family divide their time between Liverpool and a 260-year-old haunted apartment in North Wales.
You can connect with Cat here:
EMOTIONAL TUG OF WAR – WRITING FICTION BASED ON A TRUE STORY
BY NOELLE CLARK
Stone of Heaven and Earth is based on the real lives of my grandparents in China, and spans the years 1914 to 1929.
I never met my Grandfather, but was lucky to live with my grandmother until I was thirteen. I clearly remember as a child being told their story often. Their life together was one of the most amazing, adventurous, happy and sad stories I ever heard and it never failed to make me cry when my Nana described her years in China.
About eight years ago I travelled to China to walk in the footsteps of my grandparents. With all the changes brought about by cultural change and civil wars, China is a very different place now from in the early years of the twentieth century. It was very difficult to find exact addresses and places, however I did form an appreciation for the city of Shanghai and its inhabitants. I visited landmarks that I knew they had been to, places they had lived, and of course the buildings along The Bund are still there.
The only way to do it justice was to write fiction based on real life. Memoirs are written by people who were there, and so I had no choice but to add meat to the skeleton. Apart from my grandmother telling her story, I was able to draw on two memoirs written by my mother and my aunt. But their memory was almost hearsay, as they were both quite young at the time. I also had a couple of letters, but the actual details were lost over the years. I have only a handful of photos of their life in China, so while I knew the bare bones very well, there was an awful lot I didn’t know.
I set out to find out what I needed. I had two tools: Research and Imagination.
The result is a story about four people whose lives were changed forever in the years from June 1914 until March 1929 whilst living in China. Yes, it contains all the elements of the true story, but I’ve enriched it with details gleaned from research, and character development based on traits I knew they possessed.
Stone of Heaven and Earth is very dear to my heart, and it will appeal to anyone who enjoys reading about adventure, adversity, hope, and triumph of the human spirit.
Out now as an ebook. A few weeks later for print version.
It’s 1914, and while clouds of war gather over Europe, Australians are signing up in their thousands to help the Allies. In sleepy Brisbane, two women set sail on a passenger steamer for Shanghai to fulfil a promise.
Spanning the years 1914 to 1929, Stone of Heaven and Earth is an epic tale of love and loss, extravagant expatriate lifestyles, intense danger, heroic acts, and the hideous effects of a cruel and barbaric civil war. The complex and volatile politics in China is played out in the intimate story of two intrepid couples, foreigners who embarked on the adventure of a lifetime and made their home in China.
Based on the author’s true family history, this work of fiction is interwoven with real stories gleaned from memoirs, photographs, and from growing up hearing the stories from those who were there. Extensive research, which included a month spent in China tracing the footsteps of the characters in this book, has resulted in a captivating account of foreigners in China during some of the most violent and devastating times.
An Australian author of Contemporary Romance, Romantic Action/Adventure, and Historical fiction. Noelle lives in Queensland, Australia. Visit her website at http://www.noelleclark.net
Noelle Clark – Author
Contemporary and Historical Fiction – Adventure / Romance
She shifted on the chair. The door was there. Was she making a mistake not signing the silly bit of paper? What if he kept turning up at all her signings? She could scream. She could have him arrested. Given the way he flitted all over the place like a vampire bat, the prison didn’t exist that would hold him however. Signing would get rid of him for good. Signing would probably ensure none of this ever happened.
“Actually, if you do want my autograph . . .”
“Brittany, I’m not here for-–”
“I’ll give you it. I’ll sign your piece of paper too. It’s really no odds. You and your time-mutant friends want peace. That’s my choice and my pleasure. If not, don’t come back.”
His gaze, dull as his eyebrows, flickered over her.
“Do you really think you can stick to that?”
She reached forward. It was worth parting with another book to get rid of him, since he clung to his copy like a drowning mariner. She opened it, scraped the pen across the paper.
“To Mort, with all my love, Brittany Carter. Will that do? Hmm? Or do you want something more personalized? Like . . . well, I forbear to say.”
A shrug of his equally un-expressive shoulders. “Whatever suits you.”
“Well, what suits me is for you to go away, Mort. So if you’d also care to hand me that bit of paper, I’ll also prove I’m as good as my word. Just make sure, you don’t go bursting into flames in here. Although they do say there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”
Copyright Shehanne Moore Soul Mate Publishing