Here Comes the Bride...18th century style

The Marriage of Stephen Beckingham and Mary Cox, 1729, by William Hogarth

Ahhh, June, the month so often associated with weddings. Having just attended a lovely wedding in the green hills of Vermont, I began pondering the brides and their wedding dresses of yesteryear, 18th century brides to be exact. As always, I find the best place to get a feel for the life and fashion of an earlier era is to peruse the paintings of the time and, when possible, photos of actual dresses preserved within the care of museums. So, dear Readers and wedding dress aficionados, I happily present you with a bevy of 18th century bridal beauties for your enjoyment and edification. Perhaps you will find inspiration for your own wedding! (Oh, and pay close attention to the gowns at the end of the post which could double as wedding reception tables!) 

Late 18th Century care of Historic New England

Mid 18th Century, care of Historic New England

Wedding scene from Ramsay’s The gentle shepherd, Act V,
Printed for G. Reid and Co., 1798 From
The Lewis Walpole Library at Yale University

1780, Victoria and Albert Museum, London

1759 care of the Rijkmuseum, Netherlands

1766, care of Royal Armoury Collection, Sweden

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

Kate

18th Century Vacation Destination...taking to the waters of Bath, England

Bath, England (per: Wikimeida Commons, public domain)

Now that the summer season has arrived, it’s vacation time here in America and in other places around the globe. I believe it’s called “on holiday” across the Pond in Great Britain. With a variety of activities and guests I, myself, am expecting over the next couple weeks, I will be taking a short (one week) vacation from my blogging once this week's post has published. 

So where did our 18^th century ancestors spend their free time for rest and recreation? Of course many never had the luxury of taking time off from their daily toil but for those who did, especially those living in or near England, one of the first such destination spots was that of Bath (England, this time, not little Bath, North Carolina of which I wrote on May 7, 2014.)

Roman Bath in Bath, England (per: Wikimedia Commons public domain)

The town of Bath, England was blessed with natural hot springs and utilized as a place of healing all the way back to the times of the Roman occupation. Although known even earlier for its restorative qualities, the Romans built the first bath houses, as well as a temple, around AD60 and named the spa town, Aquae Sulis (“the waters of Sulis.”) Sulis was a Celtic goddess, referred to by the Romans as Sulis Minerva. This goddess was often asked to punish individuals who had stolen from others while at the baths. Stone tablets have been found with inscriptions imploring her help in such matters. One reads, "Docimedis has lost

Goddess Sulis Minerva at Bath ( per: Wikimedia Commons)

two gloves and asks that the thief responsible should lose their minds and eyes in the goddess' temple."

Over the years, many additional bath houses were constructed for the sick, lame, or just plain tired to “take the waters” for healing of mind and body. Once Anne, Queen of England, visited Bath in 1702, it became THE place to go on holiday. As might be expected, other recreational activities flourished along with the waters, especially those involving gambling, music, wining, dining, and dancing. 

A fairly epic poem, “A Description of Bath” was written in 1733 by Mary Chandler, a resident

             Princess Amelia of Great Britain, 1738, by Jean-Baptiste van Loo

of the town, expounding the attributes of Bath and dedicating the writing to Princess Amelia, daughter of King George II, after her time spent there. She was sickly as a child but was quite healthy as an adult, living to the age of seventy-five. (Not to be confused with Princess Amelia, daughter of King George III who, after years of various illnesses died at the age of twenty-seven.) In order that you may get a taste of how Bath was viewed by the people of the time, I have printed, below, several verses from Miss Chandler’s poem. At the end of this excerpt, the poet refers to a “wonderful machine” which was a new-fangled method of pulling rocks down from the mountains in order to use them in the making of more buildings for the town.

From “A Description of Bath” by Mary Chandler, 1733

…To sing the Town, where balmy Waters flow, 
To which AMELIA'S Health the Nations owe…

 Prior Park (Bath), 1750, Engraving by Anthony Walker

…Safe from the Ruin of a thousand Years
These salutary Streams alone can boast 
Their Virtues not in thrice five Ages lost. 
The floating Waters, from their hidden Source, 
Thro’ the same Strata keep unerring Course; 
The flowing Sulphur meets dissolving Steel,

And heat in Combat, till the Waters boil: 
United then, enrich the healing Stream, 
HEALTH to the Sick they give, and to the Waters, FAME…

…THE Min’ral Streams which from the BATHS arise, 
From noxious Vapours clear the neighb’ring Skies: 
When FEVERS bore an epidemic Sway,                                             

Bath inside Queen's Bath, 1806 Aquatint by J.C. Nattes

          
Unpeopled Towns, swept Villages away; 
While Death abroad dealt Terror, and Despair, 
The Plague but gently touch’d within their Sphere…

…BLEST Source of Health, seated on rising Ground, 
With friendly Hills by Nature guarded round;    
From Eastern Blasts, and sultry South secure; 
The Air’s balsamic, and the Soil is pure…

…THE BATHS adjoining form two ample Squares, 
Around the Walls the Roman Art appears; 
Niches and Arches there the Bathers find,                                                  

Roman Bath, Bath, England (per: Wikimedia Commons)

A Shelter from the Rain, and blust’ring Wind. 
BLADUD himself sits Guardian of the Streams, 
Whose noble Virtues give them Royal Names…

…NOT far from hence, a Bath of gentler Heat, 
The tender Virgin finds a safe Retreat  
From Sights indecent, and from Speeches  lewd, 
Which dare not there, with Satyr-Face, intrude. 
Just in the midst a Marble Cross there stands, 
Which Popish Minds with pious Awe commands, 
Devoid itself of Powe’r to heal our Woes,
Yet, deck’d with monumental Crutches, shows 
What mighty Cures this wond’rous Pool has done, 
And these the Trophies from Diseases won… 

…The lovely Landscape, and the silent Stream, 
Inspire the Poet, and present the Theme.                                                  

Round the green Walk the River glides away,         

Where ‘midst Espaliers balmy  Zephyrs play,             
And fan the Leaves, and cool the scorching Ray:        
View the brown Shadows of yon pathless Wood; 
And craggy Hills, irregular and rude

 NATURE sports romantick:  Hence is seen

The new-made Road, and wonderful Machine,

Self-moving downward from the Mountain's Height,

A Rock its Burden of a Mountain's Weight...

Have a good (2) week(s), dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

Kate

18th Century Women Gone Wild...female pirates you need to know

Anne Bonny and Mary Read from an illustration by Benjamin Cole
for Defoe's A General History of the Pyrates

Much is written and known of those "manly men" of the high seas, the pirates of the Golden Age of Piracy (1715 to 1725,) but what of the ladies who set sail, throwing caution and convention to the four winds? Hollywood has given us a few movies featuring these women such as Against All Flags and Cutthroat Island but, most often, women have been portrayed as hapless victims of those leering, lecherous, and otherwise no good sea-going bandits. Enter upon the historical stage or ship's deck, as the case may be, two female pirates who really lived the brigand's life: Mary Read and Anne Bonny.

Calico Jack Rackham, woodcut illustration
from Defoe's A General History of the Pyrates

In late spring of 1719, the infamous, flamboyantly dressed pirate, "Calico Jack" Rackham brought his men to Nassau, Bahamas to receive the pardons Governor Woodes Rogers was handing out to pirates who agreed to go and sin no more. Of course, a goodly number of those reformed pirates simply took the pardons as a temporary means of enjoying their plunder unmolested by the authorities and Rackham was no exception. While living the life in port, Rackham fell in love with Anne Bonny, the wife of another pardoned pirate, James Bonny. The feelings were mutual so the enamored couple asked Mr. Bonny for an annulment of his marriage to Anne so she would be free to join her new-found love, Calico Jack. Having grown accustomed to his wife's many extra-marital dalliances and with no love lost, Bonny consented as long as he was financially compensated. Rackham agreed and sought a reliable witness to the bargain. Unfortunately, that witness went straight to Governor Rogers and tattled on the trio. With much righteous indignation, Rogers proclaimed to Anne Bonny, if she went through with the annulment, she would be sent to prison and her lover forced to whip her. Oh my, my my. According to historical researcher and author of The Republic of Pirates, Colin Woodard, Anne's response was she "promised to be very good, to live with her husband and keep loose company no more." 

Anne Bonny from Defoe's A General History of the Pyrates

Right. To avoid such interference, Rackham and Anne Bonny simply took their relationship out to sea and the pirate resumed his former occupation with the help of his lady love by his side.

One of Anne Bonny's Nassau buddies was a woman by the name of Mary Read who, had for years, dressed like a man and sailed the seas with impunity. The two ladies were well known by Nassau inhabitants to curse with all the raw vehemence of any of their male counterparts. For several months, Rackham and his crew, along with his two lady pirates, plundered ships and laid waste those who would get in their way. One of their captives later testified at trial, the women would wear the usual female finery aboard ship until a potential victim was spied, then they would dress like men and fight along side the pirates. Another former captive, fisherwoman Dorothy Thomas, later told the courts she was terrorized by the women who cursed and swore they would kill her if she testified against them. Thomas said she could only tell them from the other crewmen by the manner in which they filled out their shirts!

                       

                           Mary Read from Defoe's A General History of the Pyrates

In October, 1720, Captain Jonathan Barnet (a privateer given orders to bring Rackham and his crew down) fired upon the pirate ship. Most of the crew was too drunk to fight back and fled down into the hold leaving the two women to fend for themselves. According to Defoe's A General History of the Pyrates, Anne Bonny yelled down to the cowering pirates to come back up and fight like men. When no one met her challenge, she fired into the hold, killing one man and wounding several others. The ship and its crew were taken and sent to Spanish Town jail in the Virgin Islands. On November 18, 1720, the day Calico Jack was to be hanged from the gallows, it is reported Anne Bonny was allowed to see him one last time. Her words? "I'm sorry to see you here, but if you had fought like a man you need not have hanged like a dog."

As far as the trial of the two women pirates went, on November 28, 1720, they were both found guilty and sentenced to death but both "plead their bellies" (meaning they were both pregnant at the time and by British law could not be hanged until their innocent babies delivered.) After medical examination they were, indeed, proclaimed pregnant and their sentences set aside. Neither woman was ever hanged by the neck until death, however. Mary Read and her unborn child died in prison in April, 1721 when she became ill and died amidst a violent fever. Her grave is at St Catherine's Church in Jamaica. There is no record of Anne Bonny's execution or death by other means nor of what happened to her and her child.  Colin Woodard speculates her wealthy South Carolina plantation owning father may have come to her aid and bought her freedom. Who knows? There may, to this day, be little Calico Jacks and Pirate Queen Annes running around the streets of Charleston causing all manner of mischief!      

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

Kate

                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Living in an 18th century town...a historical novelist's dream

The Barker House, 1775

Two years ago, we moved from the relative noise and bustle of Virginia Beach, Virginia to the peaceful quiet of Edenton, North Carolina. How amazing it is to walk these streets and see homes built in the 1700s still occupied today, not as roped off museum pieces or reproductions but as living breathing examples of 18th century life. As a matter of fact, it was recently discovered that the oldest known house in the state of North Carolina (circa 1712) was hiding beneath a veneer of asbestos shingles on one of the town streets. Our

The Cupola House, 1757

own little cottage doesn't go back that far but even at its "youthful" age of 114, it carries a spirit of history, charm, and continuity not found in contemporary housing. As a writer of historical fiction, it's like waking each day inside a dream, inspiration singing from every corner of the town. I tell our out-of-town friends we are the only town I know with its own soundtrack. Several times each day, the carillon of First Baptist Church rings out lovely melodies of hymns and classical music wafting on the light breezes of Edenton Bay.

The West Customs House, 1772

Commemorative Teapot and a Satirical Drawing of the
1774 Edenton Tea Party from a London newspaper, 1775

Edenton was officially incorporated as a town in 1712. Its name changed four times over its first ten years: The Towne on Queen Anne's Creek, Ye Towne on Mattercommack Creek, The Port of Roanoke, and finally ending as Edenton when named for Governor Charles Eden upon his death in 1722. In the 1770s,  

Edenton was at the forefront of protests against unfair taxing by England. On October 25, 1774, the first ever organized political action by American women, the Edenton Tea Party, occurred when fifty-one ladies of the town met at the home of Elizabeth King and signed a resolution to no longer drink tea or purchase English made cloth
until the tax acts were repealed. In March, 1775, a very unflattering
political cartoon appeared in a London newspaper meant to embarrass and degrade the ladies' efforts.

The Joseph Hewes House, 1765

Edenton is filled to the brim with historical homes and buildings built from the 18th to the 20th centuries but I will focus today on those of the 1700s. I am including photographs I shot this week of just a few of those wonderful structures, all of which are private residences with the exception of the Chowan County Courthouse and the Barker and Cupola Houses.

For more information see: http://www.visitedenton.com/

Chowan County Courthouse, 1767

The Bennett House, 1780

The Skinner-Paxton House, 1798

The Charlton House, 1765

The Author's Home, Buttercup Cottage, 1900


Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

Kate

(All photographs in today's post taken by Kathryn Louise Wood.)

When is a Shrub, not a Bush?...when it's a tasty 18th century strawberry concoction

Strawberries Picked by Author and her Mother, by KLWood (2014)

Here in coastal North Carolina, May is prime strawberry-picking time and my ninety-year-old mother never misses the chance to pick some herself. She is visiting with us this week so it was the perfect excuse (who really needs an excuse, anyway!) to grab some buckets and head for a pick-your-own strawberry farm. Past fields of beautiful white and purple blooming clary sage and the sunshine gold of rape fields, we headed for Triple B Farms, about seventeen miles north of

Clary Sage, by KLWood (2014)

Edenton. Rape, from which canola oil is derived, and clary sage, which is used in the cosmetics and perfume industries, are relatively new cash crops for this part of North Carolina, filling some of the fields used to raise tobacco in a bygone era. Tobacco still grows here but, oh, what a lovely substitute are these flowering newcomers!

Rape Flowers, by KLWood (2014)

While preparing our strawberry shortcakes, I wondered how our 18th century ancestors used these luscious, ruby berries. I ran across an intriguing process, popular in the 1700s, that produced something called a "shrub," (from the Arabic word, sharab, meaning "to drink,") also known as a "drinking vinegar." Without modern refrigeration, vinegar was often used as a means of preserving foods and this concoction took full advantage of the tangy sweet and sour marriage of vinegar and berries. My research also informed me that shrubs have recently regained popularity and used as an ingredient in making trendy cocktails. 18th century shrubs were made in both alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions. So, for your drinking pleasure, I happily present you with a recipe for an 18th century Strawberry Shrub adapted from a recipe by Ellen Jackson at http://www.culinate.com/articles/features/shrub_love

Strawberry Shrub, photo from: http://fromwhichthingsgrow.blogspot.com/

Strawberry Shrub

3 to 4 cups fresh strawberries, washed, stemmed, and cut in 1-inch chunks if necessary
2 to 2½ cups sugar
2 cups vinegar (white wine vinegar)
Aromatics (for herbs, several sprigs or a modest handful of leaves; for spice, 1 to 2 tablespoons, depending on strength/flavor)

Combine the fruit and sugar in a wide-mouth glass jar. Use a muddler or wooden spoon to apply gentle yet firm pressure, enough to break up the fruit. Cover the jar with a lid or plastic wrap and let it sit in a cool, dark place for at least 5 or 6 hours, or up to 24 hours.

After 24 hours, add the vinegar and aromatics, stir until the sugar has dissolved, and return, covered, to a cool, dark spot (or the refrigerator) for a week or slightly longer, until the flavor is fully realized.

After a week, or when the flavor is to your liking, press and strain the contents of the jar through cheesecloth or a fine-mesh sieve, pressing lightly to release all of the liquid from the fruit. Store in a clean container in the refrigerator for another week, or until the flavor of the vinegar mellows and fades into the background.

The shrub will keep in the refrigerator for up to 6 months. Serve it with sparkling or still water, over ice, or create your own cocktail by mixing the shrub with a spirit of your choice.

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

The Author and her Mother Picking Strawberries, by WFAhearn (2014)

Kate

18th Century Maternity Fashions...what they wore while waiting

Sarah Churchill, 1700, after Sir Godfrey Knelle (is she, or isn't she?)

Over the years I have seen maternity styles change from those of my child-bearing years when we wore loose-fitting dresses or loose-fitting tops over skirts or pants with stretchy panels that we pulled over our bulging bellies, to those of my daughters' generation in which snug-fitting, stretchy dresses or snug-fitting, stretchy tops are worn over skirts or pants whose waistbands fit just below the bulging bellies. With Mother's Day, just passed, it made me ponder what our pregnant 18th century ancestresses wore while awaiting the big day.

Replica of 18th century maternity corset (http://yeoldefashion.tumblr.com)

With the lack of modern methods of birth control as well as the need for birthing large numbers of babies to ensure enough survived to help out on the farm or even to carry on the family name or business, the 18th century woman often found herself in a state of pregnancy. You might consider some of these dear ladies, chronically pregnant (and, unfortunately, sometimes terminally pregnant with maternal death in childbirth not an uncommon occurrence.)  So, what did the well-dressed woman in the "family way" wear in an era of tight corsets? 

Robe Volante, 1720, Kyoto Costume Institute

Natalia Alexeievna, by Alexander Roslin, 1775

Until late in the 18th century, stiff corsets with equally stiff stays were the everyday wear of all women, whether high-born aristocrat or hard-working kitchen maid. Unlike those crazy folks of fashion in the later Victorian era who continued to wear tight bindings throughout pregnancy, 18th century women were free to at least loosen their corsets to accommodate their expanding waistlines and growing babies. There were corsets made especially for maternity wear that not only laced up in the back, as usual, but also up the front and both sides. Much clothing was pinned and tied together so the lady "in waiting" could adjust her gowns and bodices accordingly. Some fashions of the early 18th century provided convenient camouflage of the burgeoning baby-bellies. One of these was called robe volante, a loose fitting over-dress that was, at first, deemed appropriate as in-home or informal wear, but later worn in more formal settings among both pregnant and non-pregnant women. Some women customized their husbands' long waist-coats to wear over their gowns and petticoats. If the triangular-shaped fabric called a stomacher, which was pinned to the front of the bodice covering the corset, became too small for madam, she could drape long scarves in front to hide the corset.


I am certain many a lady breathed (literally) a sigh of relief when 1800 brought about the temporary end of the corseted stays and the fashion became loose, flowing empire-waisted gowns, a comfortable style for ladies no matter their state of maternity (or lack, thereof.) 






Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

Kate

Portrait of María Luisa de Borbón y Vallabriga by  Francisco Goya, 1800

Bath Time...an 18th century town curse or blessing?

Bath, NC (KLWood, 2014)

Recently, my husband and I made the trek down to Bath, North Carolina, just about one hour south of us here in 

Bath, NC

Edenton. Bath, created in 1705, is a fascinating place with its designation as North Carolina’s first established town and, along with many other intriguing facts, the residence of the infamous pirate captain, Edward Teach (AKA Thatch AKA Blackbeard.) Wandering along its quiet streets and down by the Pamlico River, it’s easy to envision life three centuries ago when the little town was bustling with activity including activity that inspired a visiting minister to cast a curse upon the village, but more on that later…

European settlements began growing up along the Pamlico River during the 1690s, leading to Bath’s official establishment in 1705. A collection of books sent to its St. Thomas Parish in 1701 became the origins for the colony’s first public library. (My husband, Bill, went into the Bath Public Library and speaking to one of the librarians was disappointed to learn that all but one of the original books had disappeared over the years and the one remaining book was now owned by the church and not available for public viewing.) Bath became North Carolina’s first port of entry with trade in furs, tobacco, and naval stores.

The first settlers of Bath were French

St. Thomas Church, Bath, NC, (KLWood, 2014) 

Protestants who moved down from Virginia. Early English settlers included John Lawson who was the surveyor general for the colony
of North Carolina and who designed the town’s layout. You may recall from a previous blog post --March 19, 2014-- the story of how poor John Lawson, author and happy expounder of the virtues of North Carolina (including its native Indian

Palmer House, Bath, NC, (WFAhearn, 2014)

tribes,) was killed in 1711 by the Tuscarora in a most horrific manner. 

As a matter of fact, the quiet, nearly deserted streets of Bath today, were the scenes of much political, social, and religious turmoil during its first years. The years 1711-1712 were especially challenging with the area a center of serious upheaval and strife between the Church of England’s Anglican Church and the Society of Friends (Quakers) culminating in Cary’s Rebellion. During that time, the region was also decimated by a yellow fever epidemic, severe drought, and the Tuscarora War. At one point during the war between the Indians and the colonists, Bath was the refuge for more than three hundred widows and children. Keep in mind that just four years earlier, Bath was home to only twelve houses and a total of fifty residents.

Palmer House, Bath, NC (KLWood, 2014)

As the region began putting its pieces back together following the cessation of the Tuscarora War in 1715, Bath began to flourish with increased traffic and trade once more. When Blackbeard the pirate, governor’s pardon in hand, decided to settle down, he chose the town of Bath. There, he and his rowdy crewmen became the life of the party around town, a town that is reported to have grown to a

Plum Point home of Blackbeard, seen from Bath (KLWood, 2014)

population of 8,000. Blackbeard was wined and dined by the locals who were fascinated by his wild tales of adventure and happy to do business with the reformed (so-called) pirate. He took a young wife from the Bath residents, a sixteen year old girl by the name of Mary Ormond, daughter of a nearby plantation owner. The marriage was short-lived however since, within a couple months, Blackbeard was back in the pirating trade and, in November, 1718, was killed in Ocracoke, North Carolina by orders of Virginia’s Governor Spotswood. (You may note it was not North Carolina’s governor, Charles Eden, who ordered Blackbeard’s demise. Governor Eden had actually performed the pirate’s wedding ceremony earlier in the summer.)

One of Bath’s more colorful incidents occurred during the mid-eighteenth century when the famous traveling preacher, George

George Whitefield, 1750, by Joseph Badger

Whitefield, reportedly placed a curse upon the town. Whitefield, a minister born in England who was a famously 
impassioned leader of the religious movement in America known as the Great Awakening, and reported to have drawn ardent crowds of 8,000 at the time, visited Bath on several occasions. His manner and austere preachings against such amusements as dancing were not well received in a town with a history of prosperous trade among infamous pirates. At one point, Whitefield gave up and upon leaving the town for the last time proclaimed: “There’s a place in the Bible that says if a place won’t listen to The Word, you shake the dust of the town off your feet, and the town shall be cursed. I have put a curse on this town for a hundred years.”

A Lovely Memorial Garden in Bath, NC (KLWood, 2014)

Not long after, in 1776, the town of Washington (known by us old-timers as Little Washington) was formed fifteen miles up the Pamlico River. Once the seat of Beaufort County government was moved to Washington in 1785, Bath lost most of its trade and importance and its population decreased steadily over the years, never to return to its earlier days of prosperity and power. Today, the town’s population stands at 249. Cursed? Maybe, but some who live there might well call it blessed as they enjoy its peaceful serenity. Perhaps after such a tumultuous beginning, Bath deserves such a restful retirement.

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! 

Fanciful Floral Fire Hydrant in Bath (KLWood, 2014)

Kate

Check out :    http://www.nchistoricsites.org/bath/bath.htm

Stormy Weather...18th century storm chasers

Harbor View from Cette, Claude-Joseph Vernet, mid 1700s

The volatile spring weather made itself boisterously apparent this past week in eastern North Carolina with severe thunderstorms and even devastating tornadoes striking within four miles of this author's home. It drove home the realization that storms during the 18th century were at least as damaging and our ancestors had no early warning system to batten down the hatches. Of course because, here along the shore, we have few basements since the foundations of our homes are so close to the water table, finding a safe haven in the case of an impending tornado is, at best, problematical even today.

A fairly recent phenomena is that of storm chasers. These people jump into vehicles of all description, cameras in hand, to catch the drama of a powerful storm, most often a tornado, as it descends from

Portrait of Claude-Joseph Vernet, Louise Elisabeth Vigee Le Brun, 1778

Mountain Landscape with Approaching Storm, Claude-Joseph Vernet, 1775

the heavens.

Looking over the Internet, I found many versions of storm chasers, 18th century style: painters who recreated the awesome, terrible beauty of storms, not just of tornadoes but of other severe weather that touched the lives of those around them. What they lacked in immediacy, they more than made up for in portraying the spirit of the storms. It appears to me, however, that Frenchman Claude-Joseph Vernet, 1714-1789, was the king of stormy paintings and so I present several of his works here for your perusal.

Mid-Day, Claude-Joseph Vernet, 1757

A Shipwreck on a Rocky Coast, Claude-Joseph Vernet, 1775
(This one is for sale by Whitfield Fine Art, London)

Soldiers in a Mountain Gorge with a Storm, Claude-Joseph Vernet,1789 

The Tempest, Claude-Joseph Vernet, 1762

And, of course, there is the calm before the storm... 

Seaport by Moonlight, Claude-Joseph Vernet, 1771

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now...
and as Colonel Benjamin Hawkins of the late 18th century so famously wrote to 
President George Washington when asked to return to the nation's capital,
"God willing and the Creek don't rise!"
('Course he was probably referring to the Creek Indians, but we won't split hairs here.)

Kate