John Tawell was a sincere Quaker but a sinning one. Convicted of forgery, he was transported to Sydney, where he opened Australia’s first retail pharmacy and made a fortune. When he returned home to England after fifteen years, he thought he would be welcomed; instead he was shunned. Then on New Year’s Day 1845 Tawell boarded the 7:42 pm train to London Paddington. Soon, men arrived chasing a suspected murderer – but the 7:42 had departed. The Great Western Railway was experimenting with a new-fangled device, the electric telegraph, so a message was sent: a ‘KWAKER’ man was on the run. The trail became a sensation, involving no apparent weapon, much innuendo, and a pious man desperate to save his reputation – and would usher in the modern communication age. Told with narrative verve and rich in historical research, this is a delicious true tale of murder and scientific revolution in Victorian England.

FIVE full-length standalone light historical mysteries in one volume! Join Cordelia, Lady Cornbrook and her eclectic household as she fights crime, unearths secrets, and fends off the advances of unsuitable men. These Victorian murder mysteries are set in Britain in the 1840s, and take a light, frothy look at the fun side of history. It's not quite Dickens. Maybe Dickens at a party after a few too many brandies. They are rooted in accuracy, though (there are author's notes at the back and everything, which makes it legit). In An Unmourned Man, we meet Cordelia for the first time. She's widowed, titled, entitled, and plunged into an exciting adventure which features a country doctor wearing only his shirt and breeches. There's callisthenics, a surly coachman, a cad with copious facial hair, laudanum and society balls. Riots and Revelations takes us to the grim north, which is all mills and rain and working class uprisings. There's a dashing cavalry officer and a passionate rabble-rousing Chartist, trouble at t'mill, wayward servants, night-time escapades with weaponry, and a large pig. In The House of Secrets and Lies returns Cordelia to London, and to the heart of British politics, which is actually more interesting than it sounds. Cordelia vows to stop a miscarriage of justice. But she is too rich to go into the lowest parts of Victorian London, too female to go into the clubs and coffee houses, and too scandalous to go to the parties and balls. The fourth book, Daughters of Disguise, leaves England and takes Cordelia and her household to Wales. It's a different country, with its own language, its own traditions, and its own history of justice. Cordelia has joined forces with the local constable, and together they are up against not only the murderer, but the local council ... and even the local people. And finally, in The Continental Gentleman, she confronts her past. It's not pleasant, but luckily she's armed with a short, stabby sword. It's late summer and Cordelia is rattling around her Surrey estate, annoying the servants and causing the gardeners to hide in the bushes. Her old friend – or nemesis – Hugo Hawke turns up, and he's closely followed by his own past. It's good news … at first. These novels contain innuendo but no graphic scenes or language, and may be considered clean and suitable for all readers.

Michael Wheeler is a leading authority on the Victorian age. His exploration of 1845 transforms our understanding of the period.

Describes the 1833 case that helped change the way murderers who used poison were prosecuted, when an unknown chemist created a test that could determine the presence of arsenic in the body. 15,000 first printing.

John Constable is arguably the most accomplished painter of English skies and weather of all time. For Constable, the sky was the keynote, the standard of scale and the chief organ of sentiment in a landscape painting. But how far did he understand the workings of the forces of nature which created his favourite cumulus clouds, portrayed in so many of his skies over the landscapes of Hampstead Heath, Salisbury and Suffolk? And were the skies he painted scientifically accurate? In this lucid and accessible study, John Thornes provides a meteorological framework for reading the skies of landscape art, compares Constable's skies to those produced by other artists from the middle ages to the nineteenth century, analyses Constable's own meteorological understanding, and examines the development of his painted skies. In so doing he provides fresh evidence to identify the year of painting of some of Constable's previously undated cloud studies.

In Towing Jehovah, the discovery of the two-mile-long corpse of God in the mid-Atlantic proved a serious menace to both navigation and to faith. But was God truly dead, as the nihilists and the New York Times believed? In Blameless in Abaddon, His body - comatose yet far from inert - has been hauled from its temporary resting place in the Arctic to Florida, where it has become the Main Attraction at Orlando's Celestial City USA. And now one Martin Candle, a small-time and sore-afflicted judge practicing in Abaddon Township, Pennsylvania, proposes further travels for the Corpus Dei: to the World Court in The Hague, to answer for history's injustices large and small. In his quest to counter the world's great theodicies, Martin embarks on an astonishing odyssey through the mind of the Creator, where Lot's wife proves a most convenient way of adding salt to a margarita glass, early hominids vigorously debate Augustinian doctrine over jasmine tea, and Martin's alter ego, Job, keeps an eternal vigil atop his dung heap. Once the Trial of the Millennium has begun, Martin will understand why Abaddon is another name for Hell. God hunting simply is not a sport for amateurs.

The final book of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories presents 12 more classic cases, including "The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire," "The Adventure of the Illustrious Client," and "The Problem of Thor Bridge."