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Set your story in eighteenth century London, including a casual reference to something that changes the course of history.

Posted in Historical Fiction on Sep 10, 2021

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✍️ 20 stories

The Witch Hunter's Grandson

Submitted to Contest #111

27 January 1736—London.Matthew Hopkins, III sat stoically with his glass of port at The Prospect of Whitby, a public house on the banks of the River Thames, four short miles from Parliament Square. The pub’s heavy oak paneling was a comfort against the cold, the glass window panes delicately frosted in lacy patterns of ice.Waiting, Hopkins was on edge, eyes unblinking as he looked out on the muddy brown river, its color owing to the riverbed’s silt as well as the filth tossed into it each day. It would be another hundred years and several ch...

63 likes 26 comments 26
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Mornings Past

Submitted to Contest #111

London, 1861, April 29thIt was a cold gray day. Florence blinked tiredly at the tea set in front of her as she mechanically stirred in too much sugar and only a little cream. She forced down a yawn and accepted a scone from the maid, Emilia. “Is it bedtime yet?” She muttered, reaching for the butter. “Not yet, I’m afraid.” Emilia went to the fireplace to stir it up and add a log. “Your father should be along shortly.”Florence wondered if she could request coffee and have it arrive before her father did. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be...

29 likes 3 comments 3
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The Word Collector

Submitted to Contest #111

ㅤAlice sat on her hands in her father’s office, looking out over the chimneys of Holborn.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHIMNEY. n. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1. The turret raised above the roof of a house, for conveyance of the smoke.ㅤShe had been given strict instructions not to touch anything. Around her, thousands of slips of paper lay on writing desks. Each bore a word and a definition. In this cramped attic above a London townhouse, six men were writing a dictionary.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDICTIONARY. n.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1. A book containing the words of any language in alphabetical order, withㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤexplanatio...

26 likes 5 comments 5
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A Poet is Born

Submitted to Contest #111

It was an excruciatingly bitter, cold night in January of 1788 at the house on Holles Street in London. Frost littered the windowpanes, icicles hung from the rooftops, and snow fell softly with gaslights spreading their dim light across the cobblestone street as the wind howled its' fury. Upstairs on the second floor, a lady’s maid mopped Catherine’s brow as she strained and pushed for the nineteenth time. This was decidedly proving to be no easy endeavor, and young Catherine cried softly between contractions, fearful she would be unable to ...

17 likes 6 comments 6
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Lapsang Souchong

Submitted to Contest #111

Lapsang Souchong London, 1797 Emily’s long skirts flurried behind her as she stepped off the omnibus and weaved her way down Oxford Street. She was making a beeline to the Apothecary’s next to the huge imposing departmental store, Debenhams. The impressive new pavements were so much easier and pleasant to tread, now that those awful long awnings and signs had been forcefully taken down - no longer protruding into oneself. You could actually hear the carriages’ pleasant clip clopping of hooves at times when they crossed over the stone and...

16 likes 5 comments 5
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Just the Beginning for Us

Submitted to Contest #111

Everything always starts with some dramatic scene, at least every story I have ever been told has. This story however started with a moment of calm for our main character. A young girl who had grown up alone with only her father and her brother. She was left in their care after her mother passed away. She never had a claim to her sibling or father, yet they kept her close, as if left unsupervised she would spill their secrets.  Eirian’s tale began on March 26, 1735. A day that felt so mundane she wasn’t even thinking about what she w...

15 likes 1 comment 1
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Society of the Higher Order of the Lycanthrope

Submitted to Contest #111

Catherine Mosby always suspected there was something quite unusual about her husband Elan, but she could never quite put her finger on it.  While a ne'er-do-well in the lower rings of London’s society, Elan had his sights set on moving up the ladder of his current social club since his business had a very profitable fiscal year.  She had heard he had made inquiries near Chelsea which made her hopeful that their fortunes would soon be on the upswing.   Elan did his best to keep her in the dark about his business and socia...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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Lady Ada

Submitted to Contest #111

The sun started to rise, but to Ada, it seemed as if this new day would just herald the end of all time once more. Her eyes drifted thoughtlessly over the surrounding fields. Despite the harvest and the greenery, she found the land before, in its rigid immobility; empty, lifeless, and sad. The birds sang their merry salute to a new morning; a flock of pigeons shot through the air flapping their wings and the larks clamored about the cornfields. And yet there was something sad and depressing about all this. Why can't I run barefoot through th...

14 likes 0 comments 0
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A Warmer World

Submitted to Contest #111

London was a cold and dreary place, and its inhabitants could do little more than pray for an ounce of warmth. It was a time of great hardship; death and disease were rife, and for those who survived life promised its own brand of suffering.Gathered under the awning of a tall, bleak building - the roof of which was caked in an ever-thickening layer of fresh snow that seemed the very antithesis of the dark slate beneath it - a group of young children dressed in tattered rags and moth-bitten coats sat huddled together like penguins to conserve...

13 likes 7 comments 7
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And Then There Was Light

Submitted to Contest #111

She thought herself lucky to get the job with so many people out of work, but for it to be so vastly different was what she was really happy about. Leaving behind the hard life of farming on the family farm – a daily grind of back breaking digging, picking, lugging heavy sacks of feed and all the other farm tasks was back breaking for a young girl. She now worked for a young family in London. She was a smart girl and knew that to be able to read and write would have advantages when it came to employment.Her father used to say to her in his ...

12 likes 2 comments 2
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Victor

Submitted to Contest #111

Victor Percy Walton fell ill on Wednesday morning. The eight-year-old begged his mother to permit him to stay in his bed, claiming he was too ill for daily lessons, complaining of chills and a headache. Harriet Walton acquiesced to her youngest son’s pleas. After supplanting his brother Victor as the youngest of the Walton children, Percy was accustomed to getting his way as the baby of the family. He was frail child; Harriet noted Percy did seem a bit paler than usual.  She thought that competing for attention with six rambunctious si...

12 likes 1 comment 1
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A Certain Doctor Johnson Pops In

Submitted to Contest #111

A Certain Doctor Johnson Pops By.    David kicked a piece of coal all through the familiar winding London alleys, he was walking to his new position and despite his father’s warning about tardiness, he was in no particular hurry to get there. He was glad of the opportunity, he wouldn’t want anyone doubting that it would serve him well he knew, but at 15 he was still a lad interested in kicking about with his mates. Hearing voices behind him he sped up his pace, he knew that the Mohocks gang was in the area and at five in the...

11 likes 7 comments 7
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I just can't believe it!

Submitted to Contest #111

Two well-dressed doctors are sitting in a posh bar, one would not dare to call it a public house, a pub. They have ordered their drinks, which arrived shortly thereafter, and they have just now both of them taken a soothing sip of their beverage. One of them then uncharacteristically thumps the expensively wooded table with his right hand closed tight in a fist. Then he says, not loudly, but in a forceful clear tone. “I just can’t believe it!” “What’s that George? What is it that you can’t believe?” “Well, Frank it is ...

11 likes 2 comments 2
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The Harpischord Man

Submitted to Contest #111

Bart leaned to his left and swayed slightly, acting inebriated. His shoulder length dark curls obscured one eye. This alehouse was far beneath his father’s standards, and that was the whole point. He had dirtied his face a bit, neglected a shave, and wore his oldest britches, the ones he hunted in when escaping without his entourage. He wore no wig and it felt wonderful! He hated wigs. They were silly things, and itchy.His steed was tethered with his valet’s across the street, three blocks down, in front of The ...

10 likes 2 comments 2
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Around St Paul's

Submitted to Contest #111

Twenty-six-year-old Ephraim held his new wife close to him as she lay sobbing beside him. They had been married a few hours earlier in Greyfriars Church, and although he had expected some immaturity in sixteen-year-old Chloris, he was unprepared for this. A few weeks earlier, her wealthy merchant father, James Bailey, surprised him by suddenly retracting his earlier decision to refuse the pair permission to marry. He was further amazed when James had gifted the pair the small house where they were now laying. Chloris’ tears now soaked her ni...

10 likes 4 comments 4
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