<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom">
    <channel>
        <title><![CDATA[@Stephanie Mesler - blog]]></title>
        <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
        <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler</link>
        <lastBuildDate>Tue, 07 Apr 2026 05:11:33 -0700</lastBuildDate>
        <atom:link href="https://livinghistoryvw.com/feed/blog/stephanie-mesler" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Letter From Fanny Burney To Lorsagne de Sade - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/613/letter-from-fanny-burney-to-lorsagne-de-sade</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/613</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 6 October 1794  Rome, Italy  Dearest of all friends, Lorsagne,  It is not yet light as I write this farewell. I am told my ship, The Isabella, will set sail just after dawn. I know you expect me to return to Rocca Sorrentina after some time with Father, but I find that is not to be. It is not just the disappointing news you recently shared that night when friends gathered in my villa rooms. That report might turn me from all Frenchmen for the remainder of my lifetime, but would not likely send me flying from Italy. Father suggests that once his business is completed in Rome, it will be time we return to England. He tells me Dr. Johnson is not well and that, his long-time hostess and friend has left him to fend for himself at the last. I am quite certain there are many others who will happily tend and comfort the dear man in his darkening hours. I want to be one of them.   I fear it will be some time before we meet again face to face, my friend. As always, you will be in my heart and on my mind. And, of course, there will be letters. Lots and lots of letters. I recall that you plan to return to France in the near future. Perhaps some business (or pelasure?) will one day bring you to London. There, I hope you will call on me, your most adoring friend and confidante,  Fanny      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Mon, 06 Oct 2014 09:42:24 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Letter From Fanny Burney To Lorsagne de Sade - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/612/letter-from-fanny-burney-to-lorsagne-de-sade</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/612</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 6 October 1794  Rome, Italy  Dearest of all friends, Lorsagne,  It is not yet light as I write this farewell. I am told my ship, The Isabella, will set sail just after dawn. I know you expect me to return to Rocca Sorrentina after some time with Father, but I find that is not to be. It is not just the disappointing news you recently shared that night when friends gathered in my villa rooms. That report might turn me from all Frenchmen for the remainder of my lifetime, but would not likely send me flying from Italy. Father suggests that once his business is completed in Rome, it will be time we return to England. He tells me Dr. Johnson is not well and that, his long-time hostess and friend has left him to fend for himself at the last. I am quite certain there are many others who will happily tend and comfort the dear man in his darkening hours. I want to be one of them.   I fear it will be some time before we meet again face to face, my friend. As always, you will be in my heart and on my mind. And, of course, there will be letters. Lots and lots of letters. I recall that you plan to return to France in the near future. Perhaps some business (or pelasure?) will one day bring you to London. There, I hope you will call on me, your most adoring friend and confidante,  Fanny      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Mon, 06 Oct 2014 09:42:24 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter From Fanny Burney to Her Father, Dr. Charles Burney - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/611/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-her-father-dr-charles-burney</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/611</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[    1784, 27 September  Dearest Father, Composer of My Very Being and Arbiter of My most Consequential Choices,  I write first and foremost to congratulate you, Father! No daughter of any great man could be more proud than I am to hear of your recent commission in Rome. Music for Holy Week at the Papal Chapel! Could any musician hope for a greater honor? You must feel that you have, at last, achieved one of your life's greatest purposes.   Of course, I will join you in Rome! How could I refuse to be at my fathers' side under such grand circumstances? Perhaps you will be in Italy long enough to return to Rocca Sorrentina with me for just a brief retreat? I can guarantee, Father, the sea air and subtle, warm winds are quite restorative.  I have had not even a sniffle in all the months I have been in residence here and feel myself in greater vigor than ever before. I am sure a visit would benefit my most excellent father.   As to your other question, about M. Lt. Badeau -- I have indeed heard from him since you and I saw him together in Marseilles. He wrote not too long ago about his travels, saying that he is called to further service by his King. Unfortunately, I do not know when I will hear directly from him again, as his duties are of a somewhat secret nature and require some great amount of discretion on his part. I have heard from a friend of my dear friend, Lorsagne DeSade -- Yes, Father I am aware of your feelings about that friendship and assure you an association with Lorsagne is not an association with her infamous father, now incarcerated in the Bastile. -- Lorsagne's friend, another French soldier, by the nameLucien de Robion-Castellane, was here in Italy not long ago. He told me then that Lorsagne has news of Henri. I do hope to hear from her soon. Even better, I hope she returns soon from her own travels so that she can share her news face to face.   Father, I have begun writing that play we discussed in France. It is coming along and I think you will enjoy the comedy. It will be ready for Mr. Sheridan quite soon. And, tell me, please, how is your dear wife, my dear step-mother? Susan writes that she has been unwell. I hope she has by now recovered, thereby restoring serenity to house and home.  I will post this note on the next ship to leave port. I look forward to seeing you next month in Rome!   Your Most Devoted Daughter,  Fanny ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 27 Sep 2014 05:16:37 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter From Fanny Burney to Her Father, Dr. Charles Burney - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/609/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-her-father-dr-charles-burney</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/609</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[    1784, 27 September  Dearest Father, Composer of My Very Being and Arbiter of My most Consequential Choices,  I write first and foremost to congratulate you, Father! No daughter of any great man could be more proud than I am to hear of your recent commission in Rome. Music for Holy Week at the Papal Chapel! Could any musician hope for a greater honor? You must feel that you have, at last, achieved one of your life's greatest purposes.   Of course, I will join you in Rome! How could I refuse to be at my fathers' side under such grand circumstances? Perhaps you will be in Italy long enough to return to Rocca Sorrentina with me for just a brief retreat? I can guarantee, Father, the sea air and subtle, warm winds are quite restorative.  I have had not even a sniffle in all the months I have been in residence here and feel myself in greater vigor than ever before. I am sure a visit would benefit my most excellent father.   As to your other question, about M. Lt. Badeau -- I have indeed heard from him since you and I saw him together in Marseilles. He wrote not too long ago about his travels, saying that he is called to further service by his King. Unfortunately, I do not know when I will hear directly from him again, as his duties are of a somewhat secret nature and require some great amount of discretion on his part. I have heard from a friend of my dear friend, Lorsagne DeSade -- Yes, Father I am aware of your feelings about that friendship and assure you an association with Lorsagne is not an association with her infamous father, now incarcerated in the Bastile. -- Lorsagne's friend, another French soldier, by the nameLucien de Robion-Castellane, was here in Italy not long ago. He told me then that Lorsagne has news of Henri. I do hope to hear from her soon. Even better, I hope she returns soon from her own travels so that she can share her news face to face.   Father, I have begun writing that play we discussed in France. It is coming along and I think you will enjoy the comedy. It will be ready for Mr. Sheridan quite soon. And, tell me, please, how is your dear wife, my dear step-mother? Susan writes that she has been unwell. I hope she has by now recovered, thereby restoring serenity to house and home.  I will post this note on the next ship to leave port. I look forward to seeing you next month in Rome!   Your Most Devoted Daughter,  Fanny ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 27 Sep 2014 05:16:37 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Virtual Diary of Fanny Burney In Italy - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/599/the-virtual-diary-of-fanny-burney-in-italy</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/599</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 12 September  Dearest Whomever, I find myself once again turning to these pages for solace and guidance when none is forthcoming elsewhere. I grow more restless as the summer turns to Fall, knowing that I must soon make a decision regarding my winter time accommodations. I could stay right where I am, in Italy, quietly content among the people of this lovely Island. It is certainly true that it is inexpensive living here. Also true that saving money while I complete the drama is an absolute goal. My heart's desire is, of course, to return home to Father, family, and most perfect England in time for Yule. But, there, my presence would certainly be a financial strain on Father, who does not need any further strain, already being encumbered by The Grande Dame, my  dearest  second mother. I should hate to be the cause of further stress for my father. And, if I am to be completely honest -- and why shouldn't I be in the unseen pages of this diary? -- I do desire something even more than to spend the winter with family and friends at home. My heart's greatest desire is to spend Christmas in the company of a certain French soldier.   I have finally received word from him. He tells me that he would like nothing more than to board the next boat south from Marseilles but finds himself pressed into further service for his King. Henri has written, "The King himself has asked for me. How can one refuse such an invitation to serve at the will of Louis?"  I would like to be impressed by this-- how many men can say they have been called by name to royal service? And of course, I  am  impressed-- it's just that impressed and happy are not the same thing. I would be  happier  if the French King were to shine his radiant favor elsewhere for just a few months. I don't mean to keep the good Lieutenant from his duties forever, of course, but it would be nice if he were free just long enough for us get to know one another a little better. Henri alludes to his plans for the future and seems to imply that these plans include "my little English novelist," as he calls me. Is it silly that my heart flutters as I write these words?  His  little novelist. I have been called a  novelist  before, and many names far less flattering as well.  Little  has often been a word used to describe me. But his-- or My, in the first person as he uses the possessive -- I have never before been a  His  or a  My.  It is that sense of being claimed that makes me blush with pleasure.   Am I too silly a woman to be taken seriously by any serious person? Certainly Dr. Johnson would say I should be contemplating the turns and turmoils of the play at hand. That revered man would tell me to empty my head of all romantic fantasy except that which will be included in my work, thus helping me earn a living through the theater box office.    Oh I I wish Daddy Crisp were still alive! He would certainly have been pleased to find me so besotted as to entertain him with girlish frivolities. Were he here today, I would surely dance a boisterous spree, celebrating the fact that a French soldier has called me  his  own.    I am surrounded by near strangers, unable to sing my joyful song. Even Lorsagne has been silent these many weeks she has been away in France. I do so long for her return. She at least is not shocked by open conversation of my secret yearnings. I so hope her business in France goes well and comes to a happy conclusion so that she can return here before I am forced to leave. At the very least, I hope she is able to write. Her letters are such a balm to my lonely soul. Of course, Susan and Hetty write frequently. So do Father and Dr. Johnson, but it is Lorsagne to whom I have confessed my deep feelings for my soldier. I miss my friend.   And now I must ready for supper. I am told there will be a gathering of local dignitaries. I am expected to attend. How I detest these parades in which I am a literary monkey expected to enlighten and impress. I would much rather take bread and cheese on a tray in my rooms. If only I were ill-- then I could be excused from enforced social gaiety. Alas, it is my lot to play the lady novelist for an audience of men unlikely ever to read an English novel, much less romances penned by a woman. Perhaps if I dress quickly for the evening's entertainment, I can take advantage of the few remaining minutes of light to take in some sea air before transforming myself into a dancing chimpanzee.       ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 12 Sep 2014 13:47:22 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Virtual Diary of Fanny Burney In Italy - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/598/the-virtual-diary-of-fanny-burney-in-italy</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/598</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 12 September  Dearest Whomever, I find myself once again turning to these pages for solace and guidance when none is forthcoming elsewhere. I grow more restless as the summer turns to Fall, knowing that I must soon make a decision regarding my winter time accommodations. I could stay right where I am, in Italy, quietly content among the people of this lovely Island. It is certainly true that it is inexpensive living here. Also true that saving money while I complete the drama is an absolute goal. My heart's desire is, of course, to return home to Father, family, and most perfect England in time for Yule. But, there, my presence would certainly be a financial strain on Father, who does not need any further strain, already being encumbered by The Grande Dame, my  dearest  second mother. I should hate to be the cause of further stress for my father. And, if I am to be completely honest -- and why shouldn't I be in the unseen pages of this diary? -- I do desire something even more than to spend the winter with family and friends at home. My heart's greatest desire is to spend Christmas in the company of a certain French soldier.   I have finally received word from him. He tells me that he would like nothing more than to board the next boat south from Marseilles but finds himself pressed into further service for his King. Henri has written, "The King himself has asked for me. How can one refuse such an invitation to serve at the will of Louis?"  I would like to be impressed by this-- how many men can say they have been called by name to royal service? And of course, I  am  impressed-- it's just that impressed and happy are not the same thing. I would be  happier  if the French King were to shine his radiant favor elsewhere for just a few months. I don't mean to keep the good Lieutenant from his duties forever, of course, but it would be nice if he were free just long enough for us get to know one another a little better. Henri alludes to his plans for the future and seems to imply that these plans include "my little English novelist," as he calls me. Is it silly that my heart flutters as I write these words?  His  little novelist. I have been called a  novelist  before, and many names far less flattering as well.  Little  has often been a word used to describe me. But his-- or My, in the first person as he uses the possessive -- I have never before been a  His  or a  My.  It is that sense of being claimed that makes me blush with pleasure.   Am I too silly a woman to be taken seriously by any serious person? Certainly Dr. Johnson would say I should be contemplating the turns and turmoils of the play at hand. That revered man would tell me to empty my head of all romantic fantasy except that which will be included in my work, thus helping me earn a living through the theater box office.    Oh I I wish Daddy Crisp were still alive! He would certainly have been pleased to find me so besotted as to entertain him with girlish frivolities. Were he here today, I would surely dance a boisterous spree, celebrating the fact that a French soldier has called me  his  own.    I am surrounded by near strangers, unable to sing my joyful song. Even Lorsagne has been silent these many weeks she has been away in France. I do so long for her return. She at least is not shocked by open conversation of my secret yearnings. I so hope her business in France goes well and comes to a happy conclusion so that she can return here before I am forced to leave. At the very least, I hope she is able to write. Her letters are such a balm to my lonely soul. Of course, Susan and Hetty write frequently. So do Father and Dr. Johnson, but it is Lorsagne to whom I have confessed my deep feelings for my soldier. I miss my friend.   And now I must ready for supper. I am told there will be a gathering of local dignitaries. I am expected to attend. How I detest these parades in which I am a literary monkey expected to enlighten and impress. I would much rather take bread and cheese on a tray in my rooms. If only I were ill-- then I could be excused from enforced social gaiety. Alas, it is my lot to play the lady novelist for an audience of men unlikely ever to read an English novel, much less romances penned by a woman. Perhaps if I dress quickly for the evening's entertainment, I can take advantage of the few remaining minutes of light to take in some sea air before transforming myself into a dancing chimpanzee.       ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 12 Sep 2014 13:47:22 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Happy News Regarding The Royal Retreat! - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/595/happy-news-regarding-the-royal-retreat</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/595</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ I have just purchased a homestead which will be the location for The Royal Retreat. Now I am just waiting for it to be moved where I want it so I can start creating the environment. In the retreat's first incarnation, RP time will be set from 1786-91, the court of King George III and Queen Charlotte during the time of Fanny Burney and Mary Delaney.    I am very excited! Please spread the word about this historical RP and invite your friends. They can join The Royal Retreat here on Ning or inworld. I am Freda Frostbite in SL (though my rp character is Fanny Burney). Folks can contact me with questions and ideas. It would really rock my world if folks wanted to create the characters of Mary Delaney, George III, Queen Charlotte, as well as the princes and princesses who lived with their parents between 1786and 1791.  Particularly interesting male characters would be Charles Burney (Fanny's famous father), George Cambridge and Stephen Digby (men who disappointed Fanny deeply). These are JUST suggestions though.   Of course, other RP characters are welcome.   Mrs. Mary Delaney was a talented artist as well as an intimate friend of the King and Queen. Also counted as friends were Jonathon Swift, Margaret Bentinck, and Josepf Banks.  She began her career as one of England's most beloved artists at 72 years of age.        Frances Burney was arguably the most popular novelist of her time.  Jane Austen was one of her proteges. She was very close to Dr. Samuel Johnson and Hester Thrale. She thought of Mary Delaney as a grandmother figure. It was that friendship that led to Fanny's appointment to the court of George III and Charlotte. Eventually she married a french constitutionalist in exile, Alexandre D'Arblay.       George III and his Queen, Charlotte, were (by all accounts) very much in love for the duration of their marriage. Their time together was marred by loss and tragedy, but theirs was far more than a marriage of royal convenience. The period inclusive for this RP includes an assassination attempt by Mrs Margaret Nicholson and the period of the King's first bout of "madness."        ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 05 Sep 2014 14:55:31 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Happy News Regarding The Royal Retreat! - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/594/happy-news-regarding-the-royal-retreat</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/594</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ I have just purchased a homestead which will be the location for The Royal Retreat. Now I am just waiting for it to be moved where I want it so I can start creating the environment. In the retreat's first incarnation, RP time will be set from 1786-91, the court of King George III and Queen Charlotte during the time of Fanny Burney and Mary Delaney.    I am very excited! Please spread the word about this historical RP and invite your friends. They can join The Royal Retreat here on Ning or inworld. I am Freda Frostbite in SL (though my rp character is Fanny Burney). Folks can contact me with questions and ideas. It would really rock my world if folks wanted to create the characters of Mary Delaney, George III, Queen Charlotte, as well as the princes and princesses who lived with their parents between 1786and 1791.  Particularly interesting male characters would be Charles Burney (Fanny's famous father), George Cambridge and Stephen Digby (men who disappointed Fanny deeply). These are JUST suggestions though.   Of course, other RP characters are welcome.   Mrs. Mary Delaney was a talented artist as well as an intimate friend of the King and Queen. Also counted as friends were Jonathon Swift, Margaret Bentinck, and Josepf Banks.  She began her career as one of England's most beloved artists at 72 years of age.        Frances Burney was arguably the most popular novelist of her time.  Jane Austen was one of her proteges. She was very close to Dr. Samuel Johnson and Hester Thrale. She thought of Mary Delaney as a grandmother figure. It was that friendship that led to Fanny's appointment to the court of George III and Charlotte. Eventually she married a french constitutionalist in exile, Alexandre D'Arblay.       George III and his Queen, Charlotte, were (by all accounts) very much in love for the duration of their marriage. Their time together was marred by loss and tragedy, but theirs was far more than a marriage of royal convenience. The period inclusive for this RP includes an assassination attempt by Mrs Margaret Nicholson and the period of the King's first bout of "madness."        ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 05 Sep 2014 14:55:31 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter From Fanny Burney to Her Sister, Susan - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/593/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-her-sister-susan</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/593</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 1 September  Rocca Sorrentina, Italy  My Most Beloved Friend, Susan,  Thank you for your letter of 15 July. I had begun to wonder if you had forsaken me. Of course, I understand how very much in demand is your attention. I can only imagine that husbands and children take a great deal of time and effort. You must be positively frazzled by your busy household. Of course, it cannot be yet as feverishly busy as the home in which we were raised. I do hope you will be able to avoid the birthing bed for the next several years. Our own dear mother might have lived years longer and spared us the horror of our second Mama if only there had been a few fewer of us Burney whelps.   Speaking of our second Mama, I hear from Hetty that she is on a rumble again, something about Sarah's new teacher not teaching her how to behave as a lady ought. I do wonder why she believes that is the fault of the poor teacher when our dear half-sister is so indulged. (Truth be told the girl is still young enough that a little wildness is to be expected, even encouraged. There will be time enough for proper behavior later. I think so long as the girl appears clothed before guests and does not take the King's name in vain, she is behaving appropriately as her age allows.)  I am writing this letter in the wee hours of an Italian morning. I have just come back to my rooms after the most wonderful celebration held here at the villa! It was to commemorate the end of summer, though so far as I know there are still a few precious weeks of this season to be enjoyed. The celebration involved much good Italian food and rollicking dances.        I had the pleasure of dancing the chaconne with a visitor from our own homeland, one Mr. Heximer Thane. Perhaps it was the fine Italian wine that gave me the courage to accept his invitation. Of course, it was also the opportunity of speaking English with one who has spoken it from birth. I do sometimes so much miss hearing our mother tongue unmangled by foreign voices (though I suppose here it is I who am the foreigner). The evening was full of good conversation and much frivolity. It even ended with fireworks!        You will be happy to know I am writing daily here and making some good progress with the drama. I am not as convinced as Daddy Crisp that I am up to this commission, but will certainly do my best and promise that when the play is done, you will be among the first to read it! When you do, I hope you will hold nothing back. Not wanting to make a fool of myself, it will be better to hear the truth from a beloved sister than false praise from one hundred others.   Our most lovely friend, Lorsagne DeSade, is now in France. She went on business of various types. I miss her terribly here at Rocca Sorrentina and hope she returns in the near future. She is doing a bit of business for me while she is there as well, looking into the background of one M. Lt. Henri Badeau.   As you know, I met that most beautiful of men when he came to visit your beloved Molesworth, the most wonderful brother-in-law a sister could ask for. He has corresponded with me almost weekly since the day we met and I am always happy to hear from him. I was also very happy to see him in Marseilles last month when I visited father there. As you already know I am sure, Father met him and it was not a complete disaster.   Unfortunately, The liutenant's work often requires him to be out of touch for weeks on end, during which I imagine all sorts of horrible calamities.  Of course my recent experience with G.C. has caused me to trust my own instincts not at all. So, although I believe Henri's intentions to be honorable, I have asked Lorsagne to obtain some confirmation of this. I do so hope that when I hear from her, she has only good news to impart!   And speaking of G.C., I wonder if you have seen him recently. Probably not, seeing as how he is not likely to leave the social track in London long enough to call on a young mother and her family. I will never understand how I could have so misinterpreted his meanings. To tell you the complete truth, Susannah, I still hold out hope there. I hear that he will be making the tour after Christmas and wonder if I might see him here in Italy. Yes, I know how silly a girl I still am, in spite of my advanced years. If you hear that he will be headed to this glorious land while I am still in residence here, please, please write of this news immediately. If ever information requires immediate post, it will be that!   And now I shall do the sensible thing and head to my bed a few hours before the sunrise. I do so miss you, my beloved, Susan. Write to me soon and kiss your little ones for their Aunt Fanny.  Your Most Devoted Sister,  Fanny ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sun, 31 Aug 2014 18:41:12 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter From Fanny Burney to Her Sister, Susan - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/592/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-her-sister-susan</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/592</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 1 September  Rocca Sorrentina, Italy  My Most Beloved Friend, Susan,  Thank you for your letter of 15 July. I had begun to wonder if you had forsaken me. Of course, I understand how very much in demand is your attention. I can only imagine that husbands and children take a great deal of time and effort. You must be positively frazzled by your busy household. Of course, it cannot be yet as feverishly busy as the home in which we were raised. I do hope you will be able to avoid the birthing bed for the next several years. Our own dear mother might have lived years longer and spared us the horror of our second Mama if only there had been a few fewer of us Burney whelps.   Speaking of our second Mama, I hear from Hetty that she is on a rumble again, something about Sarah's new teacher not teaching her how to behave as a lady ought. I do wonder why she believes that is the fault of the poor teacher when our dear half-sister is so indulged. (Truth be told the girl is still young enough that a little wildness is to be expected, even encouraged. There will be time enough for proper behavior later. I think so long as the girl appears clothed before guests and does not take the King's name in vain, she is behaving appropriately as her age allows.)  I am writing this letter in the wee hours of an Italian morning. I have just come back to my rooms after the most wonderful celebration held here at the villa! It was to commemorate the end of summer, though so far as I know there are still a few precious weeks of this season to be enjoyed. The celebration involved much good Italian food and rollicking dances.        I had the pleasure of dancing the chaconne with a visitor from our own homeland, one Mr. Heximer Thane. Perhaps it was the fine Italian wine that gave me the courage to accept his invitation. Of course, it was also the opportunity of speaking English with one who has spoken it from birth. I do sometimes so much miss hearing our mother tongue unmangled by foreign voices (though I suppose here it is I who am the foreigner). The evening was full of good conversation and much frivolity. It even ended with fireworks!        You will be happy to know I am writing daily here and making some good progress with the drama. I am not as convinced as Daddy Crisp that I am up to this commission, but will certainly do my best and promise that when the play is done, you will be among the first to read it! When you do, I hope you will hold nothing back. Not wanting to make a fool of myself, it will be better to hear the truth from a beloved sister than false praise from one hundred others.   Our most lovely friend, Lorsagne DeSade, is now in France. She went on business of various types. I miss her terribly here at Rocca Sorrentina and hope she returns in the near future. She is doing a bit of business for me while she is there as well, looking into the background of one M. Lt. Henri Badeau.   As you know, I met that most beautiful of men when he came to visit your beloved Molesworth, the most wonderful brother-in-law a sister could ask for. He has corresponded with me almost weekly since the day we met and I am always happy to hear from him. I was also very happy to see him in Marseilles last month when I visited father there. As you already know I am sure, Father met him and it was not a complete disaster.   Unfortunately, The liutenant's work often requires him to be out of touch for weeks on end, during which I imagine all sorts of horrible calamities.  Of course my recent experience with G.C. has caused me to trust my own instincts not at all. So, although I believe Henri's intentions to be honorable, I have asked Lorsagne to obtain some confirmation of this. I do so hope that when I hear from her, she has only good news to impart!   And speaking of G.C., I wonder if you have seen him recently. Probably not, seeing as how he is not likely to leave the social track in London long enough to call on a young mother and her family. I will never understand how I could have so misinterpreted his meanings. To tell you the complete truth, Susannah, I still hold out hope there. I hear that he will be making the tour after Christmas and wonder if I might see him here in Italy. Yes, I know how silly a girl I still am, in spite of my advanced years. If you hear that he will be headed to this glorious land while I am still in residence here, please, please write of this news immediately. If ever information requires immediate post, it will be that!   And now I shall do the sensible thing and head to my bed a few hours before the sunrise. I do so miss you, my beloved, Susan. Write to me soon and kiss your little ones for their Aunt Fanny.  Your Most Devoted Sister,  Fanny ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sun, 31 Aug 2014 18:41:12 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Virtual Diary of Fanny Burney In Italy - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/589/the-virtual-diary-of-fanny-burney-in-italy</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/589</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 23 August     <br>  I find that I am awake at an absurd hour, it being sometime later than midnight with many hours remaining before the sun will shine through my windows. I will most certainly regret this wakefulness tomorrow when I wish to be out among the people of Sorrentina, socializing, procuring a small gift for Susan's birthday which is coming soon, and posting a letter to Marseilles.   Being awake, one should put the time to good use. There are manuscripts to be edited, correspondences to be kept up. Just today I received a lengthy letter from our dear Dr. Johnson, who it seems is somewhat downtrodden. His letter was not in his usual tone and I begin to worry that he will soon be lost to us. I can only determine myself to remember at all times those wonderful conversations at Streatham Hall, those joyous jaunts to Brighton and Bath, the Dr. reciting Chaucer as no one but he is able.  (Oh, I know Chaucer is not suitable literature for a young lady of good name, but I could not help but laugh along with the Dr. and the rest of our party.)  I should make productive use of this quiet time but find my mind distracted from the tasks that deserve, actually demand, my attention. I think of Henri -- yes, I have taken to referring to him by his Christian name, though only in the privacy of my own thoughts and on the sacred pages of this diary. I do hope all is as he told me it would be, that he is off with his regiment serving King and country and that we will soon see one another again, and of course I hope and pray that he is kept safe from harm until the time of our reunion.   Of course, I cannot help but worry that I am misguided in trusting such a man. Is it possible that I am blinded by love (for love I believe it is)? Could this be just another infatuation, a mere reverie of one so inexperienced as to be taken in by the pretty words of a pretty man?   NO! I don't believe that. My heart tells me his words can be trusted.   Of course, my heart said the same of George Cambridge and, in that case, my heart was wrong and led me into much suffering and folly. It is in fact what drove me away from my dear home and all my dear family. It would be comforting to believe that in my first 32 years on this Earth I have learned to tell the difference between truth and falsehood but I am realist enough to know that, when love is involved, clear vision is often clouded, if not completely obliterated.   The bell tolls now on the lovely gold clock that decorates a table in my room here at the Villa. If I were a sensible woman, I would close these pages and take to my bed, where I should will myself to sleep. Instead, I will walk in the quiet of the night. That is one of the joys of Rocca Sorrentina. Here, a lady can walk without fear at any hour of night or day. Perhaps taking in the sea air will act as a tonic for sleep. The good Dr. Greymoon is soon to open an apothecary in the village. Perhaps he will stock something to empty my mind of the distraction of Henri, who crowds all logical thoughts from my consciousness. Perhaps something to make a woman sleep even when visited by so many worries.                          In the hours before sunrise, Fanny Looks to France. ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 22 Aug 2014 15:39:04 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Virtual Diary of Fanny Burney In Italy - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/588/the-virtual-diary-of-fanny-burney-in-italy</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/588</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 23 August     <br>  I find that I am awake at an absurd hour, it being sometime later than midnight with many hours remaining before the sun will shine through my windows. I will most certainly regret this wakefulness tomorrow when I wish to be out among the people of Sorrentina, socializing, procuring a small gift for Susan's birthday which is coming soon, and posting a letter to Marseilles.   Being awake, one should put the time to good use. There are manuscripts to be edited, correspondences to be kept up. Just today I received a lengthy letter from our dear Dr. Johnson, who it seems is somewhat downtrodden. His letter was not in his usual tone and I begin to worry that he will soon be lost to us. I can only determine myself to remember at all times those wonderful conversations at Streatham Hall, those joyous jaunts to Brighton and Bath, the Dr. reciting Chaucer as no one but he is able.  (Oh, I know Chaucer is not suitable literature for a young lady of good name, but I could not help but laugh along with the Dr. and the rest of our party.)  I should make productive use of this quiet time but find my mind distracted from the tasks that deserve, actually demand, my attention. I think of Henri -- yes, I have taken to referring to him by his Christian name, though only in the privacy of my own thoughts and on the sacred pages of this diary. I do hope all is as he told me it would be, that he is off with his regiment serving King and country and that we will soon see one another again, and of course I hope and pray that he is kept safe from harm until the time of our reunion.   Of course, I cannot help but worry that I am misguided in trusting such a man. Is it possible that I am blinded by love (for love I believe it is)? Could this be just another infatuation, a mere reverie of one so inexperienced as to be taken in by the pretty words of a pretty man?   NO! I don't believe that. My heart tells me his words can be trusted.   Of course, my heart said the same of George Cambridge and, in that case, my heart was wrong and led me into much suffering and folly. It is in fact what drove me away from my dear home and all my dear family. It would be comforting to believe that in my first 32 years on this Earth I have learned to tell the difference between truth and falsehood but I am realist enough to know that, when love is involved, clear vision is often clouded, if not completely obliterated.   The bell tolls now on the lovely gold clock that decorates a table in my room here at the Villa. If I were a sensible woman, I would close these pages and take to my bed, where I should will myself to sleep. Instead, I will walk in the quiet of the night. That is one of the joys of Rocca Sorrentina. Here, a lady can walk without fear at any hour of night or day. Perhaps taking in the sea air will act as a tonic for sleep. The good Dr. Greymoon is soon to open an apothecary in the village. Perhaps he will stock something to empty my mind of the distraction of Henri, who crowds all logical thoughts from my consciousness. Perhaps something to make a woman sleep even when visited by so many worries.                          In the hours before sunrise, Fanny Looks to France. ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 22 Aug 2014 15:39:04 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter From Fanny Burney to Her Sister, Esther - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/583/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-her-sister-esther</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/583</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 16 August  Rocca Sorrentina, Italy  Dearest Hetty,  I know I should have written immediately upon my return from Marseilles, where I saw father, who was in surprisingly good spirits for one who might be somewhat humbled by circumstances. (I always forget until I see him in society that he is not just our Papa but also a charming man of the world.)   I'd have written immediately upon my arrival here but was distracted by the marvelous gift of a harpsichord from my dear friend, Lorsagne. You remember me mentioning her, don't you? Unfortunately, the woman herself was not present here upon my return. She has set upon a journey of her own. I know she needs to check on family and business holdings in France. I suspect she may also have set out to acquire a gift for the newest resident of this small island.   Have I mentioned the new babe birthed recently by a young woman who succumbed sadly to the fever for which we were all quarantined? You may recall that I wrote of the woman and the mysterious circumstances of her arrival here the very day the fever forced us all into our homes. I am told she was of Rome and that the father of her child has not stepped forward to claim the babe, though it is painfully clear who the father is. (I will never understand a man who chooses his own convenience over the needs of his own child.) My understanding is that a local physician and his wife have stepped forward to raise the child as their ward. I believe Losagne is to be the godmother.  Of course, none of that explains why I have been so slow in sending word to you that I am back in Italy and doing well, nor does it tell you what you want to know about M. Lt.  Badeau. I'll get to describing that encounter shortly.    The reason I have been slow in writing is that I am quiet profoundly exhausted. The journey was tiring, that is sure, and the weeks of quarantine preceding my trip were less thanrestful. But neither of those are what have caused the current depletion of my energies. I have been kept up nights by the noisy, vocal,  recreations of someone in a neighboring room here in the villa. I have not met everyone who is a guest here, but I have heard this one quite exuberantly called Davy. I try not to imagine what might have so pleased the young woman who cried out his name. Repeatedly. In the middle of the night. I just wish she would whisper it instead so that I can get some sleep. On the other hand, this unknown Davy and his women (yes, there are several) might give me ideas for my next novel. Perhaps Mr. Dodsley would be more interested in  that  than he was in  Evelina!  I know, you must think me awful for having any of these thoughts. Please forgive your lonely sister her poor behavior.   The other situation that is weighing on my mind and causing me a bit of dis-ease is that I came across a young woman on the boat from Marseilles. She is of India and seeking employment. She has begged to be my lady's maid. You know how I feel about servants and are also aware that there is not money to spare. But this young woman touched me so. She is bright and wants to better her English. I worry that one such as her might be thrown to the wolves, so to speak -- possibly the very same wolf that wrecked that poor girl from Rome I wrote of above. I would hate to see another young woman destroyed for want of opportunity. I am considering my options and will be sure to let you know what I decide.   Now to say what I can of my encounter with M. Lt. Badeau, Henri. He was in Marseilles, as his letter said he would be, staying at a small hotel with some of his comrades in arms. Of course, I did not tell father I was meeting a gentleman when I made excuse for my absence on the afternoon of 10 August. Nonetheless, Father found out. Henri and I were walking in the park when father passed us on his way to see M. Jean Charles about a violin. It was a bit tense, but, charmer that Father can be, he greeted us as if he had expected to see me there on the arm of a handsome soldier.   Henri was, of course, unaware that Father might not approve of our meeting so there was no discomfit on his side. That fell all to me and I fear I was as jittery as a startled colt. Henri took my nerves to mean I had changed my mind about him. Of course, I assured him I have not, but he seemed somewhat skeptical.   We spent just a few hours together, during which time we walked and talked, stopping once in a lovely little cafe for bread and wine, chocolates and fine French cheese. He spoke of the adventures he has while doing his work and of the poverty and unrest he sees in many parts of France, including Marseilles. He also spoke of his young sisters and an older brother who runs the family business, a winery not far from where we sat. In fact, the wine we drank was from L'Vignoble D'Badeau. I will admit to you that I cannot tell a good wine from swill, but I assure you I praised it to Henri as if it were wine blessed by God himself.   He walked me back to M. Champney's home, so that I could spend one last evening with father before heading back to Italy and my writing. At the door of M. Champney's, Henri kissed my hand in the manor of all well-raised frenchmen. Am I completely wonton for admitting that I wish he had aimed a bit higher?  I do hope you will write soon. I would like to know your opinion of my encounter with Henri Badeau. Do you think my nervousness at seeing father will have put him off?   And, of course, please let me know what our dear step-mother has been up to of late. I was so glad she did not come to France with Papa, but worried that it might be your life she was disrupting in his absence.   Now I am off for a walk along the harbor, where I will see that this letter goes out on the next boat headed north. Then, it will be time for some tea and a bit of writing. I miss you, dear Hetty.   Ever Your Friend and Sister,  Fanny      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 16 Aug 2014 07:28:15 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter From Fanny Burney to Her Sister, Esther - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/582/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-her-sister-esther</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/582</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 1784, 16 August  Rocca Sorrentina, Italy  Dearest Hetty,  I know I should have written immediately upon my return from Marseilles, where I saw father, who was in surprisingly good spirits for one who might be somewhat humbled by circumstances. (I always forget until I see him in society that he is not just our Papa but also a charming man of the world.)   I'd have written immediately upon my arrival here but was distracted by the marvelous gift of a harpsichord from my dear friend, Lorsagne. You remember me mentioning her, don't you? Unfortunately, the woman herself was not present here upon my return. She has set upon a journey of her own. I know she needs to check on family and business holdings in France. I suspect she may also have set out to acquire a gift for the newest resident of this small island.   Have I mentioned the new babe birthed recently by a young woman who succumbed sadly to the fever for which we were all quarantined? You may recall that I wrote of the woman and the mysterious circumstances of her arrival here the very day the fever forced us all into our homes. I am told she was of Rome and that the father of her child has not stepped forward to claim the babe, though it is painfully clear who the father is. (I will never understand a man who chooses his own convenience over the needs of his own child.) My understanding is that a local physician and his wife have stepped forward to raise the child as their ward. I believe Losagne is to be the godmother.  Of course, none of that explains why I have been so slow in sending word to you that I am back in Italy and doing well, nor does it tell you what you want to know about M. Lt.  Badeau. I'll get to describing that encounter shortly.    The reason I have been slow in writing is that I am quiet profoundly exhausted. The journey was tiring, that is sure, and the weeks of quarantine preceding my trip were less thanrestful. But neither of those are what have caused the current depletion of my energies. I have been kept up nights by the noisy, vocal,  recreations of someone in a neighboring room here in the villa. I have not met everyone who is a guest here, but I have heard this one quite exuberantly called Davy. I try not to imagine what might have so pleased the young woman who cried out his name. Repeatedly. In the middle of the night. I just wish she would whisper it instead so that I can get some sleep. On the other hand, this unknown Davy and his women (yes, there are several) might give me ideas for my next novel. Perhaps Mr. Dodsley would be more interested in  that  than he was in  Evelina!  I know, you must think me awful for having any of these thoughts. Please forgive your lonely sister her poor behavior.   The other situation that is weighing on my mind and causing me a bit of dis-ease is that I came across a young woman on the boat from Marseilles. She is of India and seeking employment. She has begged to be my lady's maid. You know how I feel about servants and are also aware that there is not money to spare. But this young woman touched me so. She is bright and wants to better her English. I worry that one such as her might be thrown to the wolves, so to speak -- possibly the very same wolf that wrecked that poor girl from Rome I wrote of above. I would hate to see another young woman destroyed for want of opportunity. I am considering my options and will be sure to let you know what I decide.   Now to say what I can of my encounter with M. Lt. Badeau, Henri. He was in Marseilles, as his letter said he would be, staying at a small hotel with some of his comrades in arms. Of course, I did not tell father I was meeting a gentleman when I made excuse for my absence on the afternoon of 10 August. Nonetheless, Father found out. Henri and I were walking in the park when father passed us on his way to see M. Jean Charles about a violin. It was a bit tense, but, charmer that Father can be, he greeted us as if he had expected to see me there on the arm of a handsome soldier.   Henri was, of course, unaware that Father might not approve of our meeting so there was no discomfit on his side. That fell all to me and I fear I was as jittery as a startled colt. Henri took my nerves to mean I had changed my mind about him. Of course, I assured him I have not, but he seemed somewhat skeptical.   We spent just a few hours together, during which time we walked and talked, stopping once in a lovely little cafe for bread and wine, chocolates and fine French cheese. He spoke of the adventures he has while doing his work and of the poverty and unrest he sees in many parts of France, including Marseilles. He also spoke of his young sisters and an older brother who runs the family business, a winery not far from where we sat. In fact, the wine we drank was from L'Vignoble D'Badeau. I will admit to you that I cannot tell a good wine from swill, but I assure you I praised it to Henri as if it were wine blessed by God himself.   He walked me back to M. Champney's home, so that I could spend one last evening with father before heading back to Italy and my writing. At the door of M. Champney's, Henri kissed my hand in the manor of all well-raised frenchmen. Am I completely wonton for admitting that I wish he had aimed a bit higher?  I do hope you will write soon. I would like to know your opinion of my encounter with Henri Badeau. Do you think my nervousness at seeing father will have put him off?   And, of course, please let me know what our dear step-mother has been up to of late. I was so glad she did not come to France with Papa, but worried that it might be your life she was disrupting in his absence.   Now I am off for a walk along the harbor, where I will see that this letter goes out on the next boat headed north. Then, it will be time for some tea and a bit of writing. I miss you, dear Hetty.   Ever Your Friend and Sister,  Fanny      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 16 Aug 2014 07:28:15 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Virtual Diary of Fanny Burney In Italy - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/580/the-virtual-diary-of-fanny-burney-in-italy</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/580</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[  1784, 14 August    Returned again to my home away from home, Sorrentina in Italy, after a brief trip to see Father who was on business at Marseilles but has now set his course for England. I had so hoped to find Father in better circumstances than last I saw him and I did. Unfortunately, those circumstances were those of his host in France, not his own. He tells me that the Burney family's financial circumstances are no more secure than when last we met face to face. He is grateful to have a daughter more than capable of tending to her own needs. He certainly has changed his opinion of a woman publishing her own words in her own name! Amazing how one's sense of propriety can shift to fit one's personal advantage.     Having returned to the port of Sorrentina half dead with exhaustion, wind-blown, and starving, I proceeded swiftly to my rooms at the villa. There, I was saddened to learn that my friend, Losagne, is no longer among the visitors here, having set sail some time ago for France! I wonder if she passed through Marseilles as she headed for her own home and if I missed the opportunity for learning news of what has happened here since my own departure following the quarantine. I suppose I will have to seek out Lady Fandango or Lady Foxglove (who is hopefully still secreting that lovely silver flask in her skirts) to find what they have to reveal of happenings during my absence.     In spite of her own absence, Lorsagne has managed to lift my spirits after a long journey. Upon my return to my rooms, I found that she has made me a gift of a most lovely and bright sounding hand crafted harpsichord! Leave it to Lorsagne to remember that I once played for her! That was so many years ago. Of course, I could not even wait to remove my hat before taking my place on the piano bench and beiginning to play one of the few pieces I have committed to memory, one of those simple sonatinas from the late Mr. Scarlatti.          The housekeeper here noticed my return immediately and sent one of the maids with a tray of cheese and bread and fruit. There is nothing to compare with the summer fruits of Italy! I am told another maid is soon to arrive with a bath for my pleasure and hygienic redemption. I assure you that is a joy one never learns to anticipate dully, as if it were a small trifle. A warm sweet scented bath is a gift from heaven on high, never to be taken for granted.     I sit and write now, thinking I should record the details of my journey and the discussions with Father. I believe I should also report on the circumstances of my meeting with that French soldier. But now I hear a maid in my outer room and must commit myself to bliss in the form of a warm bath. Of course, it will take some effort, leaving behind the grime of the journey, but, somehow, I will manage as one must.            ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 14 Aug 2014 12:06:29 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Virtual Diary of Fanny Burney In Italy - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/578/the-virtual-diary-of-fanny-burney-in-italy</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/578</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[  1784, 14 August    Returned again to my home away from home, Sorrentina in Italy, after a brief trip to see Father who was on business at Marseilles but has now set his course for England. I had so hoped to find Father in better circumstances than last I saw him and I did. Unfortunately, those circumstances were those of his host in France, not his own. He tells me that the Burney family's financial circumstances are no more secure than when last we met face to face. He is grateful to have a daughter more than capable of tending to her own needs. He certainly has changed his opinion of a woman publishing her own words in her own name! Amazing how one's sense of propriety can shift to fit one's personal advantage.     Having returned to the port of Sorrentina half dead with exhaustion, wind-blown, and starving, I proceeded swiftly to my rooms at the villa. There, I was saddened to learn that my friend, Losagne, is no longer among the visitors here, having set sail some time ago for France! I wonder if she passed through Marseilles as she headed for her own home and if I missed the opportunity for learning news of what has happened here since my own departure following the quarantine. I suppose I will have to seek out Lady Fandango or Lady Foxglove (who is hopefully still secreting that lovely silver flask in her skirts) to find what they have to reveal of happenings during my absence.     In spite of her own absence, Lorsagne has managed to lift my spirits after a long journey. Upon my return to my rooms, I found that she has made me a gift of a most lovely and bright sounding hand crafted harpsichord! Leave it to Lorsagne to remember that I once played for her! That was so many years ago. Of course, I could not even wait to remove my hat before taking my place on the piano bench and beiginning to play one of the few pieces I have committed to memory, one of those simple sonatinas from the late Mr. Scarlatti.          The housekeeper here noticed my return immediately and sent one of the maids with a tray of cheese and bread and fruit. There is nothing to compare with the summer fruits of Italy! I am told another maid is soon to arrive with a bath for my pleasure and hygienic redemption. I assure you that is a joy one never learns to anticipate dully, as if it were a small trifle. A warm sweet scented bath is a gift from heaven on high, never to be taken for granted.     I sit and write now, thinking I should record the details of my journey and the discussions with Father. I believe I should also report on the circumstances of my meeting with that French soldier. But now I hear a maid in my outer room and must commit myself to bliss in the form of a warm bath. Of course, it will take some effort, leaving behind the grime of the journey, but, somehow, I will manage as one must.            ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 14 Aug 2014 12:06:29 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Nothing Quite Matches Up To The Entertainment Value of Watching 18th Century Frienemies Unexpectedly Meet - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/74/nothing-quite-matches-up-to-the-entertainment-value-of-watching-18th-century-frienemies-unexpectedly-meet</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/74</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[   June 1785  My Dear Mrs. Piozzi,  It was such an ...unmatched ... experience, seeing you again after all this time. You are aging... remarkably. I must say I was surprised to see you so far from your new husband's side. It must be so difficult for you, being separated from him while hetravels the world, entertaining his throngs of young admirers, teaching singing toyoung women in every town he visits. I must say I admire your spunk, Madame. I am not sure I could maintain so philosophical an attitude about a husband's prolonged absences. You are, as usual, head and shoulders above the rest of us when it comes to romance and fidelity. And, of course, you know your young husband is devoted to you. In fact, did he not meet you in his capacity as vocal instructor? That must contribute to your great confidence.  As I was saying, It was a  pleasure  seeing you at The Decades Festival ((27 June on Vahalla Island, Second Life.)) Perhaps we will once again exchange pleasantries as friends such as us are bound to do.  Sincerely, Your Most Adoring of Friends,  Fanny Burney              Fanny encounters her old...friend... Hester Lynch Thrale Piozzi    when the ladies arrive simultaneously at The Decades Festival    (June 27 in Second Life)          ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 25 Jun 2015 12:19:05 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[The Decades Festival and Ball is set for June 27, 2015 starting at 12:01 AM SLT - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/73/the-decades-festival-and-ball-is-set-for-june-27-2015-starting-at-1201-am-slt</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/73</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[      The Decades Festival and Ball is set for June 27, 2015 starting at 12:01 AM SLT  Event Location:  http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Vahalla%20Island/158/9/24   We conceived The Decades Festival when it became clear that money needed to be raised to support Historical RP and education in SL through The Historical Communities and Royal Courts website,  http://royalcourts.ning.com/ . We wanted to help with the expense of running this site that supports all of us in sharing live history in the metaverse. What started out as a simple request for donations drew all of our attention to the need to support one another in all we do in Second Life and elsewhere on the net to promote historical education and RP. A little discussion led to a lot of planning and, voila! a Festival was born.       We chose the sunflower as the symbol for the DECADES Festival because their open faces that symbolize the sun speak to what historical communities and builds represent: warmth, happiness, admirationand with your help and support, longevity, as well. Look for sunflowers throughout the sim, and if you can please be generous in your donations to support historical and education builds.  June 27, The Decades Festival Site on Vahalla Island in SL will be host to nine HUGE history exhibits and 15 live and/or interactive events, which run the gamut from Renaissance music to coffee house RP. There will be balloon rides and pony rides, even a zip line. There is a historical ship to explore and a space museum that will knock your socks off. You won't believe the attention to historical detail and accuracy in all of the exhibits, no matter what their subject, from hats to fine art to tarot to houses.  The festival was dreamed up by Freda Frostbite and her cohort in many things virtual, SisterButta. Lots and lots of people have contributed their time and talent to building this big event and they have done it in less than a month! Please compliment all of them on the amazing work they have done creating The Decades Festival and Ball. Questions and Concerns may be directed to Freda and Sister. We do hope you'll spend at least part of June 27 with us at The Decades Festival and Ball. Below are the events schedule and descriptions of the many exhibits.  Please share this info. And please DO contact Freda Frostbite or SisterButta in Second Life, Inwolrdz or Kitely for a posterto puton your own land or in appropriate venues. Please help to make the Decades Festival a huge success!  So let's get the word out! Please post and share all the info below. The Decades Festival is going to be one of the greatest events ever in SL and I'm not just saying that cuz it was my idea to start with. I'm saying so because of the contributions of dozens of folks in the metaverse historical education and RP communities. Really, as Barney says, this is gonna be -- wait for it -- LEGENDARY! Share, Share, Share, People, Share!        THE EXHIBITS   THE SEA WITCH<br> The Sea Witch, owned by Captain Lucerius Zefirelli is on display near the Festival landing. You are welcome to explore above and below, fore and aft. Be sure to walk the plank and swing from the mast! And don't forget to fire the cannon! Can you sink the target ship? Give it a try!  GAMBLING (Observatory Ground Level)<br> Ladies and gentlemen! Place your bets! It is the universal cry of the croupier, the dealer, the oddsmaker. Gambling and gaming have been a part of every culture throughout history. Dice, cards, entrails, stars in the sky . . . if it exists in creation (and even in imagination) you can count on somebody somewhere betting on it. Our visual history of gambling shows how different artists have depicted men and women engaged in popular forms of gambling. Admire the art and then try your hand at roulette, the dart board, a run for the roses, poker. If you choose 52 card pickup, you can watch the cards fly!  HISTORY OF HATS (Observatory 2nd Floor)<br> Sofia Von Essen has created a fabulously fun and educational exhibit on head gear from 1545 to 1925. You'll walk away wishing we, of the 21st century, wore hats more.<br><br> COFFEE HOUSE (Observatory Top Floor)<br> The coffee house will be open throughout the day of the festival for your snacking and imbibing pleasure. Help yourself to strong Italian coffee or a milk shake. Have some biscotti or a peanut butter sandwich. Or come when there is RP scheduled in the coffee house. See the events schedule for details on coffee house RP.  SPOKEN WORD PERFORMANCES (Observatory Underground)<br> See the events schedule for details about these performances but feel free to explore any time.  HISTORICAL COMMUNITIES INFO (Around the Pavilion and Balloon Launch)<br> A pictorial exhibit drawing attention to many historical communities in SL. Click the signs for information.  HISTORICAL VEHICLES DISPLAY (On the Pavilion Patio)<br> From chariots to fire engines, Aldo Stern and company have gathered together vehicles from the last 2000+ years. This exhibit is a lot of fun!  WHO ARE WE? (Pavilion)<br> If a friend is a mirror of the self, the art a culture produces is the mirror of the whole cultureand its time. From the earliest cave paintings, the human figure has always spoken to the artist. Representative artworks from all eras depict the rise (and fall, perhaps) of mankind as the measure of all things while accompanying chairs give us a seat to enjoy the view. Curated by SisterButta and Lady Leena Fandango.  DECADES TOUR BALLOON (center sim)<br> Tour the festival in a hot air balloon! What better way to see history and beauty than floating above the melee on nothing but air? Created by Sere Timeless.  THE HISTORY OF HOMES (NW corner of the sim)<br> This exhibit allows you to literally walk through time, starting in prehistoric times. You'll visit a cave dwelling and a French folly. In between, you'll see all manner of homes. Builder and historian, Jacon Cortes de Bexar has outdone himself!  TAROT HISTORY (Northern sim edge)<br> This quote, hung at the exhibit entrance pretty much sums things up: "Tarot may not tell a person's future, but it tells a lot about humanity's past. Begin your journey through Tarot History through the door..." Merry Chase has built an unbelievably creative exhibit that will have you marveling at both her skill as a designer and the history of the cards.  WILD BLUE: THE QUEST FOR FLIGHT 1783 TO THE PRESENT (The Hangar)<br> Created by a real life aero-space engineer and pilot, WIld Blue will take you through aeronautic history, hitting all its *high* points from hot air balloons to space shuttles. Find out some of the lesser known facts about flight in this exhibit created by Heximer Thane.  WHAT SHALL WE WEAR? (Fashion Tent)<br> See the events schedule for details about the Decades fashion show. Visit the fashion tent any time for fun historical fashion facts.  IN MEMORIAM (Temple and Ruins)<br> A small temple, the ruins of a forgotten era and emerging sunflowers stand as a reminder that while history may well be written in stone, our creations in the virtual world are not. They are ephemeral ... and sadly, some are lost forever due to lack of funds to maintain or archive them. We need your help so more great historical and educational builds can be maintained and preserved.   THE EVENTS   All times arePST (US Pacific Time)         1:00 AM<br> Ceci Dover will perform like no one but Ceci does. If you have never seen her very high energy show, this is your chance. Ceci does a wide variety of music from many eras. Her voice is dazzling. AND she is wonderful to work with. She is one of Second Life's true professionals. (Streamed)<br> <br> 3:00 AM<br> Coffee Break! Puss Applewhyte will host in the observatory coffee house. IC event. Come from your favorite time period. (Text)  4:30 AM<br> *Lamentations of The Sabine Women* by Stephanie Mesler, performed by Avi Choice winner, Freda Frostbite. This poem cycle based on the mythology and history of early Rome will be published this summer in Mesler's book, *GodSongs.* (Local Voice)  6:00 AM<br> Coffee Break! Crazy lady and "mouth of the South" Trolley Trollop will get you laughing as she shares funny stories from some of her favorite Southern USA writers.. (Local Voice)       8:00 AM<br> Poetry from the last 2 1/2 Millenia with Sabreman Carter and Freda Frostbite. From Sapphos to Cisneros, Sabreman and Freda have selected some of their favorites to share with you in an hour of historically significant poetry at the Decades Festival. (Local Voice)<br> <br> 9:00 AM<br> Madmax Huet takes the stage with his great mix of rock and blues. We promise Max will have you shaking your groove thang, no matter what decade you are from! (Streamed)  9:00 AM<br> Coffee Break! Mary Von Hardenburg will host in the observatory coffee house. IC event. Come from your favorite time period. (Text)<br> <br> 10:00 AM<br> 18th century physician, Dr. William Greymoon, will discuss advances in medicine and herbology. IC event. (Text)  11:00 AM<br> Coffee Break! Lady Aph MacBain will host in the observatory coffee house. IC event. Come from your favorite time period. (Text)         12:00 NOON<br> Decades Ball in The Pavilion. Freda will provide an eclectic stream of dance music from many, many time periods, from the time of the Pharaohs to the time of Lady Gaga. Come decked out in dance garb from your favorite time period. Prizes will be awarded! (Streamed)  2:30 PM<br> What shall I wear? Those four words must be among the first ever uttered. Our all-star fashion show produced by and Algezares Magic and Euridice Qork of aQuarela Models in Second Life will feature formal attire for both ladies and gentlemen from ancient Rome through the Boho 1970s. Come and see history walk the runway! (Streamed)  4:00 PM<br> Live Theater at The Decades Festival, organized by the phenomenally talented, Sere Timeless. Featuring performances from ancient Rome, the ever-so- romantic Barretts, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez by some SL's best known and loved RP and spoken word talents. (Local Voice)  5:30 PM<br> Wald Schridde takes the Decades Festival Stage for an hour of Renaissance and Medieval music. Wald is known throughout SL's historical RP communities. You won't want to miss this talented musician.       7:00 PM<br> Caledonia Skytower of the Seanchai Library (on THREE grids now) will share her unique talent as a storyteller when she performs historical prose at The Decades Festival. (Local Voice)  8:00 PM<br> FESTIVAL FIREWORKS  Event Location:   http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Vahalla%20Island/158/9/24    ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2015 12:30:44 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[In Another Time and Place, She Might Have Been a Successful Mata Hari - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/72/in-another-time-and-place-she-might-have-been-a-successful-mata-hari</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/72</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[  Mrs. Piozzis curiosity was much aroused when the Magistrate announced that there was a valuable crate missing from the debris of the shipwreck. She returned to the beach where items from the ship have been washing ashore for several days.          She was disheartened to see so much of the   yummy   brandy gone already. Evidently, others on the island had shared her desire to enrich her own supply. Se also noted that the crate she had seen the magistrate tamper with was nowhere to be found.          Mrs. Piozzis dear husband, Gabriel, joined her in her search for the missing crate, the one belonging to a foreign dignitary. They encountered Captain John of the guardia and asked for his assistance in locating the magistrates chambers. If her many years in London taught Mrs. P. anything at all, it taught her never to trust authority and always to suspect those who cast suspicion elsewhere.     After resolving a misunderstanding, the captain having mistaken an offer of gratitude for a bribe, Captain John pointed the Piozzis to the villa itself. There, they searched the undercroft and all of the buildings public spaces. There were a   lot   of crates to be found there, but none were the crates they sought.          Then, the Piozzis returned to the beach, thinking possibly they had missed some clue there. They were surprised to find Captain John following on their heals and he was soon joined by a very glib Lieutenant. The pair of them appeared at first to want nothing more than to pass pleasentries with Sr. and Mrs. Piozzi. Then it became obvious they wanted to prevent any further search in that vicinity. Mr. Piozzi, charmer that he is, distracted the guard with his witty repartee. Mrs. P. took that opportunity to search the fortezza, which both gentlemen had mentioned in the course of their conversation.          In the fort, Mrs. P was not in the least surprised to find booty from the sunken ship piled up in the open. This would be the items the magistrate and his men were keeping safe until someone or other with a rightful claim might come along.          Nor was she surprised to find more of the loot hidden in more discreet places, where it might be kept from anyone who wanted to retake his possessions.         What  did  take Mrs. Piozzi by surprise was the arrival of Captain John, followed almost immediately by the smirking Lieutenant. These two "  gentlemen"   were most insistent that the lady leave the fortress immediately, claiming it was off limits to mere citizens and making it clear that they found her presence there suspicious. The Liutenant even insinuated he thought Mrs. Piozzi herself might be up to something unsavory. In turn, Mrs. P made it equally clear she found an unlocked and wide open fortress an oddity and that she did not like these two "  gentlemen"   one bit!          Mrs. Piozzi then returned to the beach where she exchanged pleasantries and enjoyed conversation with two ladies and Captain Lucerius Zefirelli, a   true   gentleman, that one. All present noted thatmembersof the guard stuck very close by wherever Mrs. P went, clearlykeeping their eyes (and ears) on her.     Of course, what they failed to notice -- in their devotion to harassing Mrs. Piozzi, they had completely forgotten about her husband. He was meticulously searching the island for lost treasure while his wife befuddled and bemuddled them.   ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2015 14:29:11 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[From The Virtual Diary of Hester Lynch Thrale Piozzi:  Dressing For a Festival - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/71/from-the-virtual-diary-of-hester-lynch-thrale-piozzi-dressing-for-a-festival</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/71</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[  5 June 1785     It seems that there is to be a festival, a celebration of history in its many facets. I am told it is to be held in a place appropriately named Vahalla! One starts to wonder what to wear to such an occasion. Perhaps pink will bring up the color in my cheeks? I'll have to ask that very fashion forward lady of France, Mlle. de Sade, what she thinks.        ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 05 Jun 2015 14:58:51 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Fanny Writes To Her Misplaced Father - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/70/fanny-writes-to-her-misplaced-father</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/70</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ May 1785  Dearest, Most Honorable of Men, My Father,  I find myself unexpectedly in England once more. Arriving in London, Hetty told me you were of in Cambridge. Mother Dearest said she expected you home some days ago and has not heard a word. I have come to see what has become of my most perfect of parents.Oddly, you are not in residence at any of the more respectable inns and I wonder where you have taken lodgings. I am leaving this letter for you wit Dr. Smart and hope that he can get word to you that I am here and in need of your company. You see, Father, there are things we must discuss. Lorsagne is my greatest of friends, but she is visiting with her godfather in Italy and Mrs. Thrale (I should say Mrs. Piozzi now, I suppose) is no longer available to me. I think you know Mother Dearest is not one in whom I can confide. So, please Father, please reveal yoru whereabouts and let me confide in you.  Your Loving and Devoted Daughter,  Fanny                   In Cambridge, Fanny is perplexed by the notations on this signboard. All she wants is toboard aferry and find her father.      Lost in an unsavory section of the city, Fanny asks the night watchman to escort her back to her rooms. ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2015 15:51:16 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual letter From Fanny Burney to Lorsagne de Sade - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/67/a-virtual-letter-from-fanny-burney-to-lorsagne-de-sade</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/67</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ May 1875  My Dear Friend,  It is good to hear from you. Before I address the contents of your letter, let me assure you that all is well here at The Haven. The vineyard looks spectacular and I look forward to the harvest. There have been no callers in your absence, other than that very interesting gentleman from the new world who attended your last salon, Lord Ian. He brought a painting he was hoping to have your opinion of. I was happy to offer him my own view, but he did not seem so interested in my thoughts as yours. Isn't that the way of things? In the end, he left the painting, explaining that he will be traveling for several weeks. He hopes you enjoy it at least for the time is away on business.   It is remarkable that Mrs. Piozzi (although when last I knew her, she was still Lady Thrale) considers any man to be master of any part of her person or her spirit. Oh, yes, she seems to have gone at least temporarily off balance in her devotion to this music teacher, Piozzi. The proof of that is in the mere fact of her rapid and insensible marriage. There is no doubt she is captivated by the man as she never was by her first husband. I still maintain that the only man she has ever seen as her own equal was Dr. Johnson. Of course, she abandoned him in his hour of need as soon as the Italian found his way into her... well... I'll be a lady and call it her heart.  I think we both understand that the  heart I speak of  is located somewhat south of most.   Still, I am sorry to hear of her sad loss. No one should endure such a thing. I would ask you to offer her my condolences, but I fear she would send them back unwelcome. So be it.   As to Capitainede Robion-Castellane's opinion on your spending -- well, surely you anticipated his reaction to your purchases. He is a man who appreciates good taste, but likes to think good taste can be expressed freely without expense. Of course, he is wise enough to realize this is not possible. I suspect he simply enjoys setting you to your fuming. Have you never noticed how the man smiles when your ire is riled? If I were you, I would not worry too much about what he says and pay considerably more attention to what he does.      You think me wise, eh? You think I avoid romanticentanglements? If only that were the case. Surely, Lorsagne, you are aware entanglements avoid me, not the other way around.   And on that lovely note, I will post this letter immediately. Carry on with your shopping and decorating. The money is your own to spend as you see fit. Have you not told me that is one advantage to your status as Chatelaine and bastard child?   Adoringly,  Fanny, who joyously anticipates your return to France ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 15 May 2015 15:27:27 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[A Virtual Letter from Mrs. Piozzi To Her Daughter - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/66/a-virtual-letter-from-mrs-piozzi-to-her-daughter</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/66</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 5 May 1785  Dearest Hester, Most Darling of Daughters,  You are much on my mind and so, today, Iburden you with one of Mother Dearest's dear epistles. You may wonder precisely why you are so greatlyin my thoughts this day above all others. I shall tell you.       Last evening, here at the home I share with the world's most marvelous spouse, your former piano teacher, Mr. Piozzi, friends gathered to hear a rather notorious Frenchwoman... she is the bastard daughter of the infamous Marquis de Sade and I have to admit I am most pleasantly surprised to find I rather enjoy the company of this particular bastard; surprised as muchdue the fact of her close friendship with the insipid Frances Burney (You remember that little pecking mouse, my darling?) as the fact of the Frenchwoman's birth in an improper state (the state of bastardity, one might call it) and her religion. This most delightful creature is not only an FOF (friend of Fanny) and a bastard, she is a Catholic! Still, I find her company most pleasing. Her name is, by the way, Lorsagne. Oh dear, it seems I have wandered far off the planned path for this letter, which was to tell you that Lorsagne, the Frenchwoman, read to us all last night. There were several residents of Rocca Sorrentina present to hear the lady. There were the very astute Aldo Stern, who is a professore and magistrate of this village, and Lady Sere Timeless, whose beauty seems to grow with each passing week. There was an older woman who joined us late, Mistress Merry Chase. I find her very amusing and never tire of her freedom with words and opinions. Of course, your new father, my husband, was present. There were several others as well and all were most pleasant company.       Lorsagne read to us from Lady Mary Montague and Lady Sarah Pennington. Both of these women's letters were addressed to their daughters. I know you find me over-bearing sometimes, but I can assure you I am not the mother tyrant Lady Mary Montague appears to be! She is not at all stingy with her advice for her daughters and I am sure they benefit from her wisdom, though I am equally sure they would never acknowledge the benefit. Is this a shared trait of all women with regard to their own mothers?  Best surprise of all was thatMlle. de Sade read to us from Dr. Johnson! (Oh how Imiss my old friend! I do hope you have fond memories of the years he resided in Streatham Park with us. Such a brilliant companion, he was!) The Frenchwoman chose Dr. Johnson's Betty Broom letter. It was a delight, hearing it read aloud once more.  I should also like to tell you that the gathering was held on the Piozzi terrace, overlooking the harbor. The sea air was fresh and warm. There were sea birds all around and a catwho visited from I know not where.I served wonderful fruit tarts purchased from a local baker, along with brandy and, of course, tea. (You see, I have not forgotten I am an English woman -- not for a single moment!) The entire evening was a delight!  I do hope you are well my dear. Please take a few moments to put pen to paper and communicate with your loving Mama. I do so miss my girl.  With Maternal Devotion,  From Mother ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 15 May 2015 13:06:00 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Hester's Virtual Diary and Letters:  Mrs. Piozzi Is Home - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/62/hesters-virtual-diary-and-letters-mrs-piozzi-is-home</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/62</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 4 April 1785  Dearest Gabriel,  Storms at sea do not make for the most pleasant of travel experiences. Still, the food aboard was tolerable and the ship's crew were most conscientious about seeing to the needs and safety of passengers. My back is sore and I miss my husband mightily. At least I have a home to which I could return to tend to my niggling complaints. That makes me far better off than many of my travel companions headed on to Marseilles.   I hope this morning finds you well and happy in Salzburg and that the remainder of our journey will be easy. I look forward to hearing from you once you are settled in at the opera house. I will yearn for you until we are together once more.   Your adoring and obedient wife,  Hester      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Sat, 02 May 2015 05:19:42 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
                    <item>
                <title><![CDATA[Hester's Virtual Diary and Letters:  The Only Way Forward Is Forward - @stephanie-mesler]]></title>
                <link>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/61/hesters-virtual-diary-and-letters-the-only-way-forward-is-forward</link>
                <guid>https://livinghistoryvw.com/stephanie-mesler/blog/61</guid>
                <description><![CDATA[ 2 April 1785    This is the day I return to my life in a new home. These few weeks with Gabriel at my side have been a great comfort. He is such a dear treasure. Our loss is profound, but our love more so.                There is a far-away look in her eye as Mrs. Piozzi prepares to board a boat headed for Rocca Sorrentina. Her husband will return to Austria and then travel to England, where he will sing and teach.                     Stalwart English woman that she is, Hester looks ever forward, never back.      ]]></description>
                <pubDate>Fri, 01 May 2015 12:53:59 -0700</pubDate>
            </item>
            </channel>
</rss>