

In 410 AD Alaric and his Visigoths sacked Rome.
Back when I was in high school, that date marked the Fall of the Roman Empire. Next came the Dark Ages, followed by the Middle Ages (they began in 800, with Charlemagne being crowned Holy Roman Emperor) and Modern Europe (1492—you know that date).
Do you suppose anyone noticed at the time?
Next week, on November 4 to be precise, Lady Elinor’s Wicked Adventures will make its debut. To whet your appetite, I thought I would write about something Our Heroine might have eaten while she was off having her adventures.
When I began researching 19th century travelers for Lady Elinor's Wicked Adventure, I met Mrs. Hamilton Gray, one of those well-read Victorian ladies of insatiable curiosity and determination and good humor.
Guidebooks for travelers in the 19th century provide an interesting glimpse into the way things have changed—and the way they haven’t. Then, as now, people often set off for foreign lands with a picture in their minds drawn from books they have read. I know my picture of Paris was permanenty etched in my mind by BABAR THE ELEPHANT back when I was a toddler. The wrought-iron balconies are just what I expected, but I'm always surprised that there aren't any little old ladies wearing long dresses.
The other day I had the radio on while I was eating breakfast and the announcer introduced a piece by “Carlo Gesualdo, composer of madrigals and murderer.”
Madrigals and murder. Now that’s a combination you don’t usually encounter.
The Contessa Maria della Torre was not one to sit quietly at home while great events were changing the world around her.