Writing historical fiction is tricky, particularly if the story is based on or inspired by real people. I’m currently writing the second book in my Salem Stories series based on the 18th century Crowninshield and Derby families of Salem, Massachusetts. The story is about real people in the context of their material culture. Both aspects require a fair amount of research before I write the actual story. It’s not enough to know what happened to whom. I need to know everything I can about objects and places relevant to the story, which brings me to the Belisarius, a merchant ship built by the Enos Briggs, a premier shipbuilder, for George Crowninshield & Sons. She was over 200 tons, copper bottomed, and pierced for 16 guns. She made her first voyage in November 1794 under the command of George Crowninshield, Jr. with his brother John serving as clerk. She was a fast ship, returning from her voyage in less than a year with a cargo of tea, coffee and indigo.

Sounds good. But I had a question. Every reference I read mentioned Belisarius had a copper bottom. Why was that so important? Turns out copper sheathing on a wooden ship’s bottom improved sailing performance, and protected the hull from both the corrosive effects of salt water and the biological hazards of barnacles and saltwater mollusks that laid their eggs in wood, which led to a honeycomb of tunnels. The British Navy began applying copper sheathing in 1761.

The reader doesn’t necessarily need or want to know about copper-bottomed ships. But as a writer, knowing why copper was used gave me insight into the type of meticulous merchants and shipbuilders the Crowninshields were.

Pictures are also helpful as I develop local backgrounds. Above, the Belisarius is shown leaving Salem Harbor from the Crowninshield pier at Union Wharf. For a vessel that made regular round trips from Salem to Europe, to Madeira, to Cape of Good Hope, to Mauritius, to Calcutta, and home again, she looks surprisingly small.

And what about ports of call?

One of my characters, Nathaniel Silsbee, wrote an autobiography for his family in which he described his voyage on the Benjamin in 1794. Various circumstances caused him to call at Dover harbor on the southeast coast of England.

What did Dover look like in 1794, a year after hostilities between England and France resumed? Dover, famous for its white chalk cliffs, was a garrison town with a harbor and what was once a defensive castle further up the hill. Piers at the time were insubstantial.

This type of painting helps me visualize what Dover looked like. The brig is coming towards the viewer; the fishing boat passes the ship as it enters the harbor, and the waves don’t look pleasant for either vessel. In the background, Dover’s famous white cliffs are easy to see.

Nathaniel Silsbee wrote that he played cards at Dover for the first and last time in his life. The first night he played, Nathaniel acquired enough winnings for the other players to demand a rematch the second. Nathaniel deliberately lost his winnings from the previous night and walked away. He didn’t mention what card game he played.

It turns out that baccarat, a game that originated in Italy in the 15th century, was very popular at the time. Thus it seemed a reasonable choice for a scene featuring a young man from Salem who had never played cards before participating in a “friendly game.”

“Have some Madeira, m’dear”

From Dover, Nathaniel Silsbee took the Benjamin south towards Cape of Good Hope. Along the way, he stopped at Madeira, a Portuguese colony, to load a cargo of Madeira wine. The fortified wine was a luxury drink in the 18th and early 19th centuries that came in a range of dry to sweet styles. The wine is heated during fermentation to create flavors of roasted nuts, peach, orange peel, caramel and toffee. The highest quality Madeira is made from four different varieties of grapes.

Madeira was also a good place to take on water and fresh food. The illustration on the right includes a cask of what could be Madeira wine.

It cannot be said that writers spend all their time studiously developing plot lines or doing research. I, like many other writers, follow key words into a maze of bizarre information. So, while deep diving into the particulars of Madeira wine and the size of wine casks, which can hold up to 7,920 gallons of wine, a bit of slap-happy silliness crept into my mind. In this case, I remembered the ditty Have some Madeira, m’dear released by Donald Swann and Michael Flanders in 1957.

If you have time for a bit of fun, check out this 1981 version by Lou Gottlieb and the Limeliters.

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Illustrations

Belisarius leaving Salem, 1804.

A Brig Leaving Dover by George Chambers.

Catalan: Una Partide de bahada by Albert Guilaume, 1897.

Landscape on Island of Madeira by Karl Briulove, 1850.

The post Writerly Research: Copper-Bottomed Ships & Madeira Wine first appeared on Sandra Wagner-Wright.

Jane Austin, timeless observer of human foibles, hit the nail on the head (or should it be the tissue in the hand) when she pointed out that her sore throats were worse than anyone else’s. I think we all feel that way. Today’s featured image is a watercolor of Jane done by her sister, Cassandra Austen. Perhaps Jane has a sore throat as she contemplates the view, hopefully not.

When a partner or friend [that would be you] clutches his or her throat, slathers it in some menthol concoction and falls on the sofa as if playing dead, the still healthy person [moi] thinks it’s more a case of overacting. But when I’m the one spewing, well, that’s a completely different matter. And I’ve been suffering [cue sympathetic music] for days – I who am never [hardly ever] ill.

“And so,” I said holding out my crumpled note to the Muse of Writing, “I couldn’t write my blog yesterday because of this deathly illness.”

“Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

“Pretty much.”

Second Writerly Excuse: “I have to cut flowers for my desk, because…”

“Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day.”

– Anne Morrow Lindbergh

These are definitely words to live by. The Handsome Bloke grows beautiful roses by the side of the driveway, I seldom a.) Stop to enjoy their aroma or b.) Cut fresh roses to put by my desk. When I do these two simple activities, I feel grounded. But usually I’m too busy backing up the car.

While planning a day of errands, I don’t think about the Victorians who assigned attributes to flowers. In the rose family, pink meant friendship; red symbolized passionate love; red & white together inspired unity; and white proved innocent purity.

This past Valentine’s Day the most popular rose color was red, coming in at approximately 75 per cent. Does that mean that when giving flowers to the object of one’s affection, a young man or woman thinks only of passionate love?

Yet, the white rose is the most traditional flower for weddings – at least since 1840 when Queen Victoria, the symbol of public purity, married her Prince Albert. Does that mean that marriage kills passion? I suppose some people might say “yes.”

There’s also an entertaining myth about white roses. The first rose was white, but …. It was tainted by blood when Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, pricked herself on the thorns.

Needless to say, these aren’t the thoughts I have while backing down my steep driveway. I’m thinking, “I hope I don’t hit the rose wall in this rain.” Or, sometimes, “I need to cut some roses when I get home, because, as Rutgers University researchers have recently discovered, flowers make us happier people. If you can avoid the thorns.”

Uh-Oh. My Muse is standing next to the computer looking cross.

Third “Writerly Excuse.”

“I’m writing a book. I’ve got the page numbers done.” – Steven Wright, Comedian

Some days I sit at my computer, and that’s exactly how I feel. I put page numbers at the bottom center. I set the format to double space. I select a soothing background color – I’m into lavender at the moment. I look at the roses. I flex my fingers. At the top of the first page I put CHAPTER ???

The best days are when I don’t have a cold (sniff), have gathered a bouquet of flowers for inspiration, and filled out the page above the number. Then I can lean back in my chair, stretch, and say to myself: “Life is Good”

Information:

Watercolor of Jane Austen by her sister, Cassandra Austin done in 1804. Public Domain. Wikimedia Commons.

Some information on flowers taken from:
http://www.aboutflowers.com/health-benefits-a-research/emotional-impact-of-flowers-study.html

The post WRITERLY EXCUSES first appeared on Sandra Wagner-Wright.