Ever wonder why great aunt Sylvia never married? Or why your mother and grandmother always whispered when talking about your long-deceased grandfather? You may be surprised (or maybe not) to learn how much one generation affects the next. And the next. And so on. One way to find out the family secrets is to trace your ancestry. [Read more...]

In bygone days, few women delivered babies in hospitals. In fact, there were few hospitals and they were far from the isolated farms and towns in 19th century rural America. So, how did mothers and infants survive?

Midwives were the answer. Local women, usually with children of their own, learned midwifery as apprentices, as did many 19th century physicians. Observing and helping with deliveries honed their skills and exposed them to the variety of problems they’d face when working on their own. To be a midwife required help at home. The midwife could be called away suddenly–often in the middle of the night–and could be gone a day or more if the labor lasted long. For their work, midwives might receive modest compensation, however, they might be paid with a chicken, household goods, or lumber.  

[Read more...]

Ever wish you could kill someone? I think we all have but few of us act on the desire.

Now, put yourself in the 19th century. If you wanted to kill someone then, you could of course use a knife, hachet, shotgun, or rope, among other violent ways. But all of these methods would tell murder and could spell disaster for you. Poisons, on the other hand, could be concealed. Sadly, no ready-made cartons of ant poison could be found on Walmart shelves then nor would you find a convenient supply of sleeping medication at your local pharmacy. You could, though, find plenty of plants to do the job.

What are they, you ask? Lots. [Read more...]

Want a taste of old-time Christmas treats? Try these two that were made in the 19th century German village of Zoar, Ohio, where, by the way, my story is set!

Ginger Christmas Cookies (Ingwer Kuchelchen)

1 lb. soft brown sugar
1 lb. butter
1 qt. molasses
1 3/4 lbs. flour (more if needed)
1 1/2 tablespoons ginger
2 tablespoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cloves
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 cup warm water
1 cup milk

Cream together sugar and butter, stir in molasses. Add flour and spices. Lastly add soda dissolved in warm water. Chill overnight. Roll out as thin as possible. Cut with cookie cutter into shapes. Place on cookie sheet and brush with milk. Bake at 300 degrees until done. (I know, what’s “until done?” Good German bakers knew when!)

These cookies were made at Christmas in Zoar and were a special treat for the children.

Here’s another Christmas treat made in Zoar:

Peppernuts (Pfeffernusse)

2 cups molasses
1 pound brown sugar
3 cups white sugar
2 cups melted butter
1 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon cardamom seed
1 tablespoon cinnamon
3 teaspoons baking soda dissolved in 2 cups buttermilk
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 heaping teaspoon black pepper
1/4 poind finely chopped citron
1 box small raisins finely chopped
1 cup nuts finely chopped
1 teaspoon ginger

Add flour enough to handle well. Roll into balls size of hickory nut. Bake at 350 degrees until done (that again!). Keep in covered crock for a week or more to ripen.

In the interest of full disclosure, I have not tried either of these recipes. If you do make them, be sure to let me know how they turned out.

In the meantime, good holiday eating!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Ever wonder how all of us got here? Not a philosophical question. No, I mean what did our fore-mothers endure so that ultimately we came along?

To answer this question, I’ve asked D. P. Lyle, MD and mystery writer, to tell us what he’s learned about childbirth in the past.

In the 1600s there were no hospitals and doctors knew very little. How little? It wasn’t until 1628 that Sir William Harvey (1578-1657) published “De Motu Cordis,” his famous treatise, outlining his discovery that the blood actually circulated through the body. Prior to this, physicians lived under the erroneous assumptions espoused by Aristotle, Galen (approx AD 130-201), and Andres Vesalius (1514-1564). The Germ Theory of infectious diseases wasn’t even a flicker in the minds of scientists. It wasn’t until 1870 that Louis Pasteur and Robert Koch developed this concept. Vaccination as a means of preventing disease was over a century away: Smallpox (Edward Jenner, 1796), Anthrax and Rabies (Pasteur, 1881 and 1882, respectively), Tetanus and Diptheria (Emil von Behring, 1890), and Polio (Jonas Salk, 1952). Antibiotics such as penicillin (Alexander Flemming, 1928) did not exist and surgical anesthesia (Crawford Long, 1842) wasn’t around.

Needless to say, childbirth in the 17^th Century was a risky proposition. Mothers often died as did the infant. Most commonly from bleeding and infection, since methods to control bleeding were crude and treatment of infections was non-existent. The problems of breech or other abnormal births led to death more often than not.

At that time, few doctors existed, especially in America, and the population was predominately rural. Most people lived on farms or in very small communities and the large majority of these areas did not have a doctor for miles if at all.

Though trained midwives were common in Europe, there were few if any in America during Puritan times. Thus, deliveries were often performed by a member of the community. Perhaps one of the older women, who became a de facto midwife. She would likely travel by horseback or on foot from farm to farm and attend the births.

The deliveries would take place in the home, usually in the bedroom. If the home was a single room cabin, family and friends would wait outside until the ordeal was over. Hot water, freshly washed cloths, bare hands, and a healthy dose of fear and anxiety were the only available tools. An understanding of post-partum infections (called Puerperal Sepsis) wouldn’t be delineated until Ignaz Simmelweis developed sterile delivery techniques in 1847. If severe bleeding or infection occurred, prayer and comfort were the only salves. And if the infant entered the birth canal in an abnormal fashion, such as a breech (butt first) or footling (foot first) presentation, death of the mother and the infant was likely. Obstetric anesthesia and analgesia consisted of a piece of wood or leather the mother could bite down on. Perhaps in some communities alcohol or tincture of opium would be available. Interestingly, both alcohol and opiates tend to diminish uterine contractions with the net effect of prolonging the mother’s ordeal.

The husband would not likely be present during the delivery. That is a more modern invention. The 1600s were very puritanical. Even a physician wasn’t often allowed to undress a female patient for his examination. If he needed to listen to the patient’s heart or lungs, he would place his ear against the patient’s chest. With a female patient, this was rarely allowed. Thus, Rene Laennec invented the stethoscope (1816) to circumvent this problem.

All in all, childbirth was a dangerous, bloody, and noisy affair. Also immensely rewarding, since the very survival of the community depended upon it.

Connect with Dr. Lyle on his website: http://www.dplylemd.com/ and check out his blog for more forensic info: http://writersforensicsblog.wordpress.com/

 

Whenever I speak at author events inevitably the same question emerges: Who are my favorite mystery writers? Now that I’m fully immersed in writing a historical mystery series, I find I’m reading more and more historical mysteries. I try to glean what it is I love about them and hope to improve my own work. One caveat about my selections: I don’t like extreme violence on the page but I do like both interior struggles and external action. So, here goes!

 Anne Perry is my all time favorite historical mystery writer. She writes two series, the latest book featuring William Monk, a 19th century investigator in England, and Hesterly Latterly, a nurse. Both characters struggle with personal demons to do the right thing. Her other series features a police officer and his wife. All of her books explore the depth of human decency as well as depravity and complex plots keep me compelled to keep reading. She’s also written Christmas mysteries using these characters as well as a WWI series. I highly recommend them all.

 

 

Another favorite writer is Charles Todd, actually written by mother and son team. I only recommend their Bess Crawford series. The character is a WWI nurse who struggles with the overwhelming injuries she sees, the futility of war, and solving mysteries as well, all without being too good to be true. Her faults, though minor, ground her in the real world that readers can imagine.

Charles Finch is a newer author whose books take place in 19th century England. His very likable characters are Charles Lenox and Lady Jane. The latest is A Burial at Sea.

 

 

 

 

 

Jacqueline Winspear is another favorite. Maisie Dobbs is a former WWI nurse (are you sensing a theme here?) turned private investigator in post-war England. Her next book releases in March 2012.

My list of favorite historical mystery writers would be incomplete without my mentioning Priscilla Royal. Her English medieval series features prioress Eleanor (how could I not like this?) and Brother Thomas. It matters not that the characters lived in the middle ages. Their foibles afflict us all but, unlike most of us, their courage and fortitude inspire us. I interviewed Priscilla on an earlier blog if you want to know more about her and how she writes her intriguing mysteries. Her eighth mystery, A Killing Season, was out this fall.

 

So there you have it–5 of my favorites. I’ll be back with more in a few weeks. In the meantime, let me know your favorites. Comment for all to see!

Writing an historical mystery is easy. Just start with a time and place, add a few interesting characters and culprits, inject a murder, toss in a few clues, and add a twist at the end. Voila, you have an historical mystery!

How hard could it be?

Answer: Very. Not only must you create a compelling, tension-filled mystery, you must build an accurate story world.

Contemporary mysteries require research, too, of course. Murder details must be accurate. The weapon’s action must correspond the the victim’s wounds, for example. So you need to know about firearms–how far does a bullet from a nine-millemeter or a revolver go? Can a bullet hit someone under water? (The answer is no.) How long would it take to die from a drug overdose? And how would you know if it was accidental or murder? From TV we know that COD is cause of death and TOD is time of death. Neither expressions would be used in historicals in the 19th century.

How do you build an accurate story world?

Here are some suggestions:

        Begin with primary sources such as letters, diaries, and photographs. Here’s an example of a letter I found in the Ohio Memory Project, a division of the Ohio Historical Society. Fortunately, the letters were transcribed. See some photos in the Ohio Historical Society collection. Next search for legitimate research sources. I found a dissertation by an Ohio State student  chronicling the life of the Separatists, beginning with their experiences in Germany in the early 1800s. Then I found a book by Kathleen Fernandez titled “A Singular People: Images of Zoar”.

        Travel to the site, if possible. I made several trips to Zoar, Ohio, discovering a research library where I was allowed to copy materials including several masters’ thesis on the community. Take lots of photos. You can see a few of these in the photo album on my website. My files contain 500+ images from the Ohio Historical Society as well as my own. I use them constantly as I write-what did the stove look like? How did a woman dress? Where’s the door into Adelaide’s cabin?

        Create a map of the location if you can. Then, as you write, you’ll be able to imagine your characters as they move about.  Here’s my map of Zoar, accurate for 1830. 

        Follow up with studying the work and lives of inhabitants. For example, I needed to learn about herbal medicines, midwifery, cabinet making, and blacksmithing along with food preparation, kitchen gardens, and harvesting.

There will be no end to the research you can do so be careful not to be so caught up in it that you forget to write your story!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Come back next week and I’ll share with you some of my favorite historical mystery writers. 

 

 

This week I’ve invited M. E. KEMP, who writes an historical mystery series featuring two nosy Puritans as detectives. Her latest book is Death of  a Dancing Master. She lives in Saratoga, NY.
       
Ninety years after the Pilgrim’s feast of thanksgiving in 1620, the
Puritans of the Massachusetts Bay Colony still celebrated the holiday
– only it might be in July or in May or in January depending upon what
occasion for which to be thankful. That might be for the end of King
Phillip’s War or the arrival of a sloop bearing kegs of molasses. And
Thanksgiving didn’t originate with the Pilgrims, either, but with
celebrations for various causes by the Church of England. In fact, Guy
Fawkes Day was a much more celebrated occasion on November 5th, the day
Fawkes tried to blow up the British parliament. In Boston it became a
rowdy holiday with the North End rivaling the South End, both Ends
parading around the streets carrying a “Guy,” a straw dummy until they
finally met up and ended in a  huge brawl and a bonfire.

When the Puritans did decide it was time for a Thanksgiving it was a
veritable feast, with turkey to be sure, but also with beef, venison,
all kinds of water fowl, ham, shellfish and other bounties of the sea. 
( I confess I’m envious of those days when 6 foot lobsters washed up on
the beaches after a storm. Lobster was so plentiful it was considered
a trash-fish.  Now, that’s the kind of trash food I could go for!) 
Pumpkins and apples played a large part in the feast, in forms besides
pies.  Both foods were dried for use over the winter.  And there was
drink – lots of hard liquor! Our ancestors were lushes.  Beer and hard
cider were every day drinks, with wine, brandy and rum; rum-punches
being a favorite of gatherings. Even the ministers imbibed unGodly
amounts of liquor at their ordination dinners. They welcomed new
ministers into the fold with every kind of liquor available. Tavern
bills show this to be the case.  Of course, you were expected to hold 
your drink–drunkenness was fined, preached against from the pulpit 
and perhaps even meant a spell in jail.

Our ancestors must have had stomachs of iron.  We can ourselves give
thanks that we don’t have to drink concoctions like “Sparke’s Special,”
which consisted of beer, rum, molasses and breadcrumbs.  Yuck!  Yet if
you survived the diseases of childhood, barring accident, you lived to
a ripe old age.   Well, you were probably well preserved by all that
liquor!

 

 

 

Like many settlers to America in the early 19th century, the Separatists came looking for the Garden of Eden. Europe, early settlers thought, was dirty, damaged, and corrupted. America, in contrast, was a wide, unspoiled land, a fresh new world. And so they came.

The Separatists were part of this migration to the new world. A fresh, new place, new life for all. They’d carve out a perfect, unspoiled world. And there they’d all strive to become perfect. Well, not all, only believers (according to their faith!)

Helped by Quakers in England and Philadelphia, the Separatists purchased more than 5000 acres in northern Ohio, sight unseen. In the fall of 1817 their leader, Joseph Bimeler (my distant grandfather) led a small group of the more able bodied people to their land. They hired three wagoners to transport their meager goods and the Separatists walked behind the wagons on foot. By late November they’d reached Sandyville, a wretched settlement of log huts in the woods. The wagoners left them there, and they walked the three miles to their land.

What they found appalled them.

Heavily wooded, hilly land, not very fertile, with the Tuscarawas River running diagonally through it. That first night they slept in the open under a large oak tree. The next day they built a tent-like hut of poles, covering them with leaves and earth. They lived in it until the first cabin was built. They continued building cabins as rapidly as possible through the winter. These were simple log cabins with thatch roofs and some, reinforced with tile roofs still stand today.

The only bright spot in the land was the level plains along the river that earlier Indians had cleared. Without that space for planting, it’s unlikely they would have survived.

With cabins built and plantings done, they set out to create their own Garden of Eden in a square block in the center of the village. Twelve paths of righteousness marched toward the center where a giant Norway spruce stood tall surrounded by twelve junipers.  Christ and his disciples.  Intersecting cross paths—temptations—awaited the Separatists if they strayed.   

 This photo from the 19th century shows how well they tended the garden. It survives today, tended by volunteers and descendents of the early settlers.

 Did they really live a life of purity and perfection? The records defy this notion. Several “early” births suggest digresion, a letter in 1818 from a Quaker woman complaining about Bimeler, saying “he has them so infatuated they think he’s another Moses,” and Bimeler waited to sign over the title to the entire 5000 acres until he was on his death bed.

But, maybe, like the rest of us today, they tried their best. 

 

Since the beginning of time, humans have tried to make sense of their world. Why did people sicken and die? What caused the crops to fail?

The Society of Separatists, who escaped to America in 1817, rejected the established church in their native Germany. For that, they were brutally punished. (See blog post ”Who Were the Separatists?”). But then of course as soon as they came here and started setting up their own society, it soon became just as rigid and just as authoritarian and just as restrictive as the religion they had run away from.   

The Separatists believed that salvation was between an individual and God and that no intercession by the church was necessary. Thus, their meeting house, a log cabin, had plain plaster walls, no altar, or any symbols from their hated religion from home.