Old and Stuffy--and Fascinating: Regarding the name of Welf

Today, I read a bit of a fable about the origins of the Welf family name.  King George I and his wife Sophia Dorothea both were descended from this line, and I’m focused for now on this Sophie, the protagonist of my current historical novel.  My understanding of the fable is that,
Once Upon a Time, a young woman married a powerful German duke.  Within a year of their marriage, she gave birth, but she was horrified to find that she’d been carrying twelve sons, all at once.  Well, she was certainly frightened at the strangeness of this—and of how she’d be perceived, so she told her nursemaid to drown the boys in the river.  When the nursemaid approached the river, she was stopped, and an officer asked, “What are you carrying there?”  He could see the squirming bundle in her skirt and hear the plaintive cries.  The nursemaid tried to play it off by saying, “Oh, they’re only whelps (welfs),” pretending that she was just drowning puppies.  Of course, however, the boys were saved.  When the boys were older, they liked the story so much that they adopted the name ‘Welf’.
While I often think that there is a kernel of truth in some old stories, I have an inkling that this one is entirely a fabrication—a fun story brought on simply by the interesting and powerful name of ‘Welf’.  There were other explanations for the name that made more sense—such as that it may have been the device on their shields in battle (wolves, perhaps?).
I should say that the fable only goes something like that.  Interestingly, the author of the old book in which I found this tale decides to relate much of it in the Latin from whence he found it.  (Yes, I just said ‘from whence’—you’ll have to forgive me, as I do get absorbed in my readings and can sound a bit like a dusty ole tome at these times.)  I was quite surprised at the Latin, and I’m intrigued.  English books of a century later will often incorporate vast stretches of French and even German, but Latin?  Well, I just take this all as a beautiful illustration of the expectations of education that were held by these different generations.  I doubt many modern day authors would deign to just switch back and forth between languages the way that these authors do, continually, without really explaining what was missed! 
This makes me recall an autobiographical account, Reminiscences of Williamsburg County, by Samuel McGill Davis.  Sam likewise became an M.D. and lived in the early 19th century, but in my family’s region of South Carolina.  He describes his education, which emphasizes the classics and classical tongues heavily.  I suspect he’d have read that Latin with no problem whatsoever.  Just an interesting correlation to make...
And, as to why the Latin to begin with?  I’ve only just begun to understand this, actually, so I’m happy to explain what I’ve gathered—which is that many European peoples were not in the habit of recording stories and events (the Picts of Scotland are one regrettable example).  The Germans had some runes, but we don’t have books of them (to my understanding).  I think they were used more as devices of power—magical symbols, important names (yes, thinking of the engravings on the Ring of Power in Tolkien’s books!).  Not until the Romans invaded was history actually regularly recorded in books all over Europe.  So, these earliest books were written in Latin, making Latin essential to study if you wished to read at all.  Also, the Catholic church exclusively used Latin until recently, and before the 1500’s, the Catholic church was ‘the church’.     
I have a passion for things of antiquity.  I am, actually,  in a particularly good mood today because I’ve gotten completely sidelined from my novel writing with this old book from 1821.  That’s nearly 200 years old!  It’s called, of all things, A General History of the House of Guelph, or Royal Family of Great Britain from the Earliest Period in which the Name Appears Upon Record, to the Accession of His Majesty King George the First to the Throne, by Andrew Halliday, M.D.  Just wanted to share that, in case you were curious about it and wanted to follow up, though I suspect most people would find it really dry reading.
 
There is just something completely magical to me, though, about reading the very words written down by someone almost 200 years ago.  That I can enter their thoughts, even though they are no longer alive, simply thrills me.  They sort of ‘come to life’ via their words.  Have you ever felt that way—as if you know an author personally?  
The past decade or so has made these rare, historical texts immediately accessible—along with countless classic novels—for free download via the Internet Archives project.  I use my Nook thru the Barnes & Noble website, though I’m sure there are other venues.  Now, a word of caution…I don’t know how many people would find certain of these old texts as delightful as I do.  This particular volume would not have interested me many months ago, as I only recently have gotten enough hooks into history to actually find that it speaks to me.  I’d probably like it even more if I spoke Latin, even. 
So, I’m not particularly recommending this book, though you might find it intriguing—especially if you’re a history buff.  I just wanted to mention that sometimes our modern technology does get it right in making such rare and valuable manuscripts available.  Much of the information is truly nearly ‘lost’, as books such as this probably never held wide circulation.
Isn’t there a sort of strange irony that I primarily use my new-age Nook to read extremely old texts?  It’s a treasure that way!

Magical Leek Soup Fast: from French Women Don't Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano

I have just completed a two-day Magical Leek Soup adventure with my mother.  I learned about it and was inspired by Mireille Guiliano in her bestselling book from several years ago, French Women Don’t Get Fat.  Since then, she has put out several other books in that vein, and I’ve pre-ordered the next one, French Women Don’t Get Facelifts.  I will say that I found her first book by far the most charming and useful, but she has made herself dear to my heart and I will likely continue to purchase her books as long as she writes them!  (Mireille’s pronounced Meer-ay, by the way; think opposite vowel order of ‘Mary’.)

The experience of the weekend has inspired me to rename her first book, in the spirit of her latest publication, ‘French Women Don’t Get Their Stomachs Stapled!”  Though she doesn’t really explain it this way, I believe the point of the ‘leek soup fast’ is to shrink your stomach naturally, so that you can moderate your food intake more easily afterwards.  The fast itself is not meant to cause much weight loss via calorie reduction, though it doesn’t hurt anything.  Much like getting your tummy stapled, but you can repeat it without hurting yourself, as needed.  And, by the way, the stapled tummies also often do stretch out over time, as folks gradually increase food consumption.   

So, I went into the ‘fast’ with much trepidation.  I had the whim, planned it with my mother, then made secondary and tertiary plans in case of failure!  My thought was something like, “Neither of us has any tolerance of discomfort, and I can’t go for more than a few hours without food.”  For example, the night before we began our ‘fast’, my sister called to let me know that dinner was going to be delayed by at least an hour.  So, instead of waiting to eat dinner with her, as we’d planned, I am starving and go ahead and eat something at my house, only an hour before dinner!  And this is the night before I think I’m going to start ‘fasting’! 

My mother is at least as impulsive as me about food.  And we both eat in quantity.  I’ve been concerned about her health as much as mine, and I know that checking our weight is pivotal in improving our health.  I’ve always assumed that my mother would live to be as old as her mother, but, in lieu of certain problems she’s begun to have, I have come to realize that she does not have the same lifestyle as my grandmother, who actively gardened into her 80’s and ate fresh, local, organic food most of her life.  My mother is from the ‘instant’ foods generation.

As much as we needed to get a grip on our diets, however, I simply didn’t know if we could follow through on Mireille’s rather strict plan (as I saw it then).  I had back-up ideas, so we wouldn’t just give up completely.  They involved consuming a variety of fresh, nonstarchy veggies, perhaps some dressing, and, if really pressed, an egg.  I wasn’t even sure we could manage that, to be honest—and I suspect that the raw veggies may have upset our stomachs.  But I figured we’d start with Mireille’s ‘Magical Leek Soup’ and go from there. 

In her book, Mireille talks about eating ‘in balance’, disparaging fad diets and all sorts of extremism.  I laughed at her, because, in my view, eating nothing but leek soup for a weekend seemed rather extreme.  Okay, not quite the whole weekend—you do get a real dinner the second day.

However, I have to take it back.  Mireille is my hero right now.  I had no real intention of following through on the leek soup weekend, as I knew that the first real hunger pangs would be answered.  I thought of her concept as sort of a jumping-off point, and my own additions were just a matter of time, to coincide with the hunger pangs. 

They never did set in.  For either of us.  It really is a magical, miracle plan.  Leeks are amazing!  Yes, I became tired and spacey, but I didn’t suffer at all and there was no digestive upset.  We just sorta took it easy; we took a couple of easy walks, played Scrabble, and I wrote and read a little bit.  My mother had more energy than me, actually. 

Now, what exactly did we eat?  The leek soup is simply chopped leeks (rinsed clean) that are boiled in water.  At mealtimes, we ate about a ½ cup of the boiled leeks topped with parsley, and several times during the day we drank a cup of the broth.  We added fresh lemon juice, Himalayan sea salt, and cracked pepper to both.  We also allowed ourselves to have unsweetened black tea throughout the day, and we drank a cinnamon and black hot tea several times (cinnamon is thought to help blood sugar balance).  I also drank chamomile tea and mint tea, just once each.  I figured calorie-free natural teas were alright, but that was my addition.  We never did drizzle the leeks with olive oil, though Mireille says that’s fine.  I also took my regular supplements (pills/tablets), and my mother took her medicines.

When dinner time arrives on the second day, Mireille recommends a small portion of fish and two veggies.  Being vegetarian, I altered it to two eggs and a salad, and I was surprised that my stomach ached after eating all of it!  I truly had too much, and the salad wasn’t even all that large.  It’s noon the next day, and I’ve had a few nuts and some coffee with honey and soymilk (oh, how I missed my coffee!).  A lentil soup is on the stove, but I’m feeling a bit concerned about feeling uncomfortable with eating ‘too much’ again.  Will have to go slowly!  The point is, though—this is GOOD.  This is why people pay to have their stomachs stapled!  But instead of recuperating from surgery, I feel refreshed, detoxed, cleansed, and bonded with my mother! 

Oh, I do have two recommendations.  Unless you have an iron will, I'd suggest that you go somewhere away from other food preparation/consumption.  There is some food in the pantry here at my grandparents’ old home, but no one else was with us the entire time, so it was never in our faces.  Also, try to invite someone to participate (if you think he/she’s a follow-through kind of person, generally).  It’s a great bonding experience; the support of the other person, plus your desire not to undo their efforts, makes it much easier to stick with the plan.  I think these two reasons are why those ‘fat camps’ and ‘weight-loss spas’ tend to be so effective.  The temptation is absent, and the support system is there.

Now, I imagine that it will be easier for my stomach to re-stretch than those who have had surgery, but I can repeat my leek soup weekend at will.  I believe that it has additional detox benefits, too.  My mother felt much better on day 2—her eyes sparkling, her pain less.  We plan to do this again, perhaps even seasonally—but the springtime seems especially appropriate.

Mireille, who is my mother’s age, shares that she was prescribed the ‘Magical Leek Soup Weekend’ by her aged family doctor to jump start the weight control process.  I suspect he may have known about the detox benefits, as well.  Just wanted to mention that, because I feel rather thrilled that she's passed on some 'lost' natural medicine, here.  Maybe not so lost, now, thanks to her book. 

Virtual fasting without discomfort?  Amazing for those of us who don’t have fabulous blood sugar control and experience with that sort of thing.

Why don’t our doctors tell us about this?  Honestly, they don’t know.  They don’t learn about food at all, really.  They’re simply trained to use pharmaceuticals.  And as for this ‘trick’, I never heard of it in naturopathic medical school.  We talked about fasting, a little, but I wish I had known about this ages ago…

A word of caution about fasting, though.  Fasting can reduce your metabolism a bit.  The best method of weight loss is simple portion control and exercise, generally (so long as your thyroid is working).  But less than two days of fasting, for a detox and tummy shrinkage?  I feel refreshed and now have a greatly reduced appetite.  I will report if I change my mind about it later, but Mireille claims that she still does this leek soup weekend to ‘reset’ herself every once in a while, and I have every intention of following suit.

Editing Project a Fun Distraction

Sigh...I know I've taken on too many different projects, but I'm delighted to report that I've got yet another--a quick and easy one right now, a fun project.  I'm editing one of those choose-your-own-adventure games for smartphones and kindles and such.  This is jumping directly to the END of a writing project, and, critical as I am, it's so much fun to correct another writer.  I suspect I enjoy it rather TOO much :).

Of course, perhaps it's just that the writer is entertaining.  Light-hearted fare for me these days, after all that heady monarchy stuff.

Really, though, I'm getting such an education on British history that I deserve a degree, methinks.  I'm hoping that I'm still in that learning curve, and once I really get back into writing these monarchy books that they'll spill out like magic!  Maybe with a little magic?  Nope, probably not, but maybe just some hints of it, like with Vivian and the Ouija board.  That was my favorite chapter of Tapestry, the second novel of The Silk Trilogy.  Oh, it wasn't called a Ouija board then, but same difference, right?

Onto that monarchy, I will report that it is absolutely true that the royal houses of Europe intermarry so much that they're all related.  Queen Elizabeth II and her distant historical cousin, my ancestor 'Butcher Cumberland', descend from royalty of almost every country in Europe--not to say they have any of that country's actual blood in them!  It's pretty darn fascinating.  And yes, they're ALL cousins (except perhaps some sneaky li'l bastards in there).  But the lines meet back up so many times that I'm often descended from three siblings in a family, so it probably holds for at least one or two--at least, I'd like to think that!

Okay, just wanted to give that update.  I'll probably publish the link to the story I'm editing when it's out, but know that it's not really my style of writing.  It's fun, though.  Happy reading 'til then!

Waterfall Weekend

Whirlwind weekend...or I suppose I should say 'Waterfall Weekend'.  When my daughter mentioned to me that she'd never seen a real waterfall, I had to remedy that.  In The Penderwicks series--her favorite books--the sisters go on an unforgettable family vacation each summer. We can do as much! 

I already wanted to go to Atlanta.  The High Museum is hosting a Dutch painting exhibit from the Mauritshuis Museum in The Hague. Since the paintings are from the 17th century--the same time some of my series' characters are living there as royal refugees--I was most interested in seeing them. The Violin Player by Honthorst was especially exciting to see because Honthorst was Sophia of Hanover's art teacher.  Actually, her sister Louise was the real painter of the family; she painted a playful portrait of her sister, my own Princess Sophia with a red feather in her hair, and that painting came to mind instantly upon seeing Honthorst's painting of a playful girl in costume. I've heard that some paintings attributed to Honthorst are actually Louise's work, as they brought in more money when attributed to him. Honthorst did paint numerous, more serious portraits of the family, but those weren't in this exhibition.  

Oh yeah, Rembrandts and Vermeers were there, too...yawn.  ;)
Rembrandt was my favorite childhood artist.  We had a big family Bible with many copies of his religious paintings, and I spent a bit of time gazing at them.  I loved his dark, rich palette and meticulous work, with such attention to detail, though my husband pointed out that at least one of the paintings we saw yesterday looked almost Impressionist.  

From the museum, we traveled north to Amicalola Falls state park, where we camped in our old tent. It'd been so long since we used it that I was glad to see it was still intact. While Fiona and I lay on an air mattress, exhausted from climbing the waterfall trails, she began musing about the tents from the Harry Potter movies. When Harry Potter walks in the spacious house-tent and his jaw drops, he says something like, "I love magic..."  While ours isn't quite that size, it is tall enough to walk in and has a screened-in front porch area.  It is rather incredible to set up those rooms 'magically' from the tent bags!

We brought an even older tent for my teenage son, and he had a separate dwelling for the night.  He loved sleeping on the hard ground.  I think there's something of that high-testosterone longing to be a hardened soldier in him.  I keep thinking of young George Louis (Georg Ludwig, later King George I), who was a mercenary commander at war by the time he was my son's age.

We also stopped by Anna Ruby Falls today, with a measly half-mile easy trail (thank goodness!), so my little girl should be happy on the waterfall front. While these falls don't touch the grandness of Niagara, they are lovely, set in the beautiful Appalachian mountains. The cold water seems a bit mystical on such hot days!

Near Ruby Falls is the tourist town of Helen, Georgia.  We stopped at the Hofbrauhaus restaurant, where we enjoyed our meal of sides (being vegetarian, they didn't have a lot of options for us--but we did enjoy the choices available).  Though the town's Bavarian theme included traditional costumes on the restaurant's wait staff and half-timber facades on many buildings, the homes don't feel German--there aren't the little gardens in front of the houses and the signs aren't in German. It's a little redneck Southern town pretending to be German as if for Halloween! So, needless to say, my wistful pangs for Germany weren't appeased. I spent several childhood years there, and after reading so many German tales of my Palatine and Hanoverian ancestors, some distant nostalgia has crept up on me.

That said, we may plan to go back next summer.  The kids were dying to go tubing down the stream, but we didn't have the time, or, in my case, the energy.  Ouch, come to think about it, my hips are still sore from climbing the trail up Amicalola Falls!

Royal Baby Name has Roots

Okay, yes, I'm on the bandwagon of those excited by the new royal baby!  But that's allowed, right?, since my current work is wrapped up with the royals and I'm inspired by genealogy.

I can't resist pointing out the obvious.  Baby Prince George Alexander Louis is named after George Louis (that's King George I) and my son Alexander, namesake of Lloyd Alexander, the author.  :)  Well, if I had given him that name, that would be why!

Louis and Alexander are both names of immensely powerful leaders--the obvious examples being Louis XIV of France and Alexander the Great.  Given the weakness of the current royal house, I can see why they'd choose such strong names.

I am more curious about the name George, particularly George Louis.  Perhaps it has to do with his unjustified unpopularity with the British peoples.  He was actually a pretty great leader, despite all the undeserved slander, and he stayed strong despite it all.  Maybe that's why they chose it--disguised with the strong Alexander sandwiched in the middle of his name, since historic George Louis is STILL unpopular with the British people.

Yes, I'm very sympathetic to the royals.  I'm not saying that they inherently deserve a huge chunk of the common folks' taxes.  That's an argument that has many sides to it--including the fact that a huge tourism and media industry is wrapped up with the royalty.  But Prince William and Prince Charles and Queen Elizabeth II and little Prince George Alexander Louis did not exactly CHOOSE their position.  They were born into it, so I'm sympathetic to their trials.

Anyhow, blessings on little baby Prince George and may he be as strong as George Louis, his ancestor, in facing the inevitable scorn and rage of the media.  Poor little lucky baby!

Frederick the Great was Gay

Maybe.  Whew, these fellows--the Prussian kings--keep coming up in my readings, and I can't get them straight for the life of me.  The deal with Frederick the Great's personal life is that he didn't have kids and wanted to live apart from his wife, only visiting her once per year.  When young he tried to run off with his tutor, he had a secret library of poetry, and he played the flute.
His father, King Frederick William I (a.k.a. the Soldier-King), had abused him and his mother, Sophia Dorothea of Hanover, to a degree.  This woman, Sophia Dorothea of Hanover, was sister to King George II of England.  She was the granddaughter of Sophia of Hanover and daughter of King George I of England.

Why can't I keep this straight?  Because George I of England's sister, Sophia Charlotte of Hanover (aka Figuelotte), was married to King Frederick I of Prussia.  See?  Told you.

Yep, way too many Sophias and Fredericks.  Hence this blog to see if I can straighten them all out.  Shall we resume?

So...
1.  Think of Frederick the Great (a.k.a. Fritz, Frederick der Grosse, Frederick II king in Prussia) as gay.  That should help keep it clear that he wasn't any of the Sophia's spouses, because I remember they all had children.  It was actually rumored that he was gay...
2.  His father, King Frederick William I, was somewhat of a tyrant to his family.  The mother, Sophia Dorothea of Hanover, was forbidden to see her children without his presence (as he was afraid she would turn them against him), so poor little Fritz had to hide in the furniture when his father would pop in to his wife's apartments!  Mean old Poppa Soldier-King also beat Fritz when he couldn't manage to stay on a wild horse and scolded him for wearing gloves in cold weather!
3.  Back to Poppa Soldier-King Frederick William I.  He was paranoid, I think--and tough.  His ideals were actually fairly good.  He never started a war.  He introduced primary schools.  He stored grain for bad times and died with a surplus in the royal treasury.  He eliminated mandatory military services (by establishing a tax).  Anyhow, I'm guessing he was probably just a bit crazy--that Soldier-King who never started a war.  Sounds just worried to death, doesn't he?
That said, though, he did mistreat his wife, Sophia Dorothea, which is reminiscent of her mother's own mistreatment.  Sophia Dorothea of Celle, Soldier-King's mother-in-law and his wife's namesake, was called the Prisoner of Ahlden, for very, very good reason. So, both Sophia Dorotheas were restricted and somewhat mistreated by their upset husbands.
4.  On the other hand, Fritz's grandmother, Sophia Charlotte of Hanover, daughter of Sophia of Hanover and mother of the Soldier-King, had it rather cushy.  She  ran in intellectual and artistic circles--becoming a disciple and correspondent of the philosopher and mathematician Liebnitz and a patron of music.
Her husband, King Frederick I in Prussia (not to be confused with King Frederick William I in Prussia...sigh), was deeply in love with her and allowed her free reign and a lot of independence.  He, too, was a patron of the arts and sciences (establishing two academies), but Fritz (his grandson) referred to him as 'the mercenary king' for how often he hired his Prussian soldiers out to protect other countries (making his son the Soldier-King's elimination of mandatory military service particularly appreciated, I'm sure!).  Fritz says his grandfather was 'great in small matters and small in great' meaning, I assume, his achievement of having Prussia named as a kingdom (hence he became 'king' in Prussia, though not in his Brandenburg territories) and supporting arts and academies, but his failure to his people in causing their deaths through warfare.
5.  Oh, by the way, our beloved, gay Fritz wrote the Anti-Machiavel.  Though I haven't read it, the name just warms my heart, you know.  In his own day, The Prince by Machiavelli was considered somewhat of a guide for leadership. Unfortunately for many people, Fritz still became an absolutist in the end and didn't follow his father's peaceful path for Prussia. Instead, he gloried in war and was very successful at it. 

That's it for today's history lesson.  Hopefully you'll get somewhat past my previous understanding, which was simply "Fredericks and Sophias abound!"

An Uncle and a Murder

So, again I ask, how can I write this blog without spilling all the juicy stuff I come across?  I'll have to discuss that with someone at a writing group.  I haven't actually tried to attend one yet, but I intend to.  It's just that, well, I tend to be out of town or taking a nap or even, perhaps, be busy actually writing when the group times roll around!  I do have one in my calendar, though, so I'll try to take that question with me if I ever make it there...
It'll probably be years before I get to this particular book, though, so I'm going to go ahead and relate the 'discoveries'.  It's these things that fuel my writing, you know!  In this case, I'm particularly proud of myself for sticking to my guns and reading my Memoirs of the Electress Sophia as opposed to diving into Crossed by Ally Condie.
I picked up Crossed from the library yesterday and have been looking at it longingly.  I will get there--yes, young adult novels are my choice pleasure reads--but I decided to opt for the Memoirs because of my blog to you.  See?  It helped!
Anyhow, my joy with genealogy and historical books is to read between the lines.  Sometimes, actually, to just read the lines!  Such surprises await.  For instance, I lived in Butzbach as a girl and, in my last year in Germany, attended a middle school in Giessen.  When Sophia passes through this area, she is accompanied by the Landgravine, an uncle, who rules the area.  Yes, that is quite exciting to me to think that my family ruled the territory that I lived in while in Germany.  Pretty cool.
Then, more between the lines, I pay attention this time to the fact that a priest drowns in a river just after her marriage future takes a decisive turn away from the marriage he's scheming to broker between Sophia and the Duke of Parma.  She honestly says that she can't say whether it was an accident or not--seeming to refer to suicide--but soon afterwards lets slip that the only 'witness' to those marriage discussions, to which she'd been favorable, was now dead.  And that marriage with the Catholic Duke of Parma was NOT the marriage she and her Calvinist brother thought best, after all.  She was nearly 28, though, and she'd likely decided that the marriage agreed to over a year previously was not going to happen--after the guy failed to show up.  But when it worked out with this preferred party, she of course would have regretted any promises to the Duke of Parma's representative.  It would reflect very poorly on their honour, especially as she'd already dumped one suitor--the abusive Prince Adolf of Sweden (hmm, interesting that name Adolf, isn't it?)--the year before for her Hanoverian choice.  And how did that big-chinned Prince Adolf make a fuss!
Hope this isn't all just a confusing jumble for you, but perhaps in time I'll figure out how to share bits and pieces without giving away the whole thing!  Is that how it's done?  Until I figure that out, I'll just keep you in the know.  Hmm, that wouldn't be the main point of the book, though.  Perhaps it would simply tickle your fancy to read snippets that you recognize from my blog?  I'll go with that belief for the time being--as it's easiest for me.  I mean, that priest didn't even figure into the overall construct of that book before!

Aside from the Memoirs, I've begun listening to a historical novel by Philippa Gregory.  I'd shunned them before, after associating her books with another similar book by a different author, but I'm enjoying the one I'm on about Mary, Queen of Scots, and am tickled to see that she covers many famous women of English royalty, but not the ones I plan to write about.  That's perfect for me--I can set myself up by listening to stories of previous generations and go from there.  While I just love Mary, Queen of Scots, I don't feel the urge to write on her life; not yet, anyhow.  Perhaps because it seems to be well-covered already.

Funny how little respect I give the passage of time.  It can amaze me when I realize that I'm connecting folks with their gg-grandparents.  A lot can change in just a generation.  That's just something I have to watch out for, as I tend to see their relationships as often far more intimate than they actually were.  In a book about Cleopatra, it mentioned how she and Julius Caesar visited the great pyramids of Egypt--and that Cleopatra was far closer to us in time than those pyramids were to her.  So, I don't think I'm alone in lumping the past, but it is something I need to be careful of.  Even so, it can't hurt to have a better understanding of the time periods leading up to my characters of interest.