It might sound a strange
thing to say, even for a writer, but the English Civil War was something I have
always been aware of, its highlights and some of its tragedies - not all of
them of course as it was a very involved conflict - but I seem to have absorbed
the flavour of the times - like osmosis.
Every English historic
country house I have visited, and I have been to lots, was involved in that war
in some way, either as a Royalist stronghold or a Parliamentarian garrison.
Many of them still have musket balls lodged in walls, and ditches, or shadows
of ditches, dug to repel invaders outside the boundary walls. I like to walk
the floors they walked, look through the same windows on the same landscapes where
those events happened.
Ham House, for instance, is
a classic example. Built in 1610, it is located about five miles downriver from
Hampton Court Palace. The mansion has been restored to reflect the days when
it’s most famous owner, Elizabeth Murray, lived there between 1638 and 1698.
Much of her original furniture has been reclaimed, as have the paintings that
hung there during her day. In this
setting, with no other houses close by and a frontage straight onto the River
Thames, it’s not difficult to visualise Elizabeth moving through the rooms,
issuing orders to servants, arguing with her family and rushing out of the
front door to confront Roundhead soldiers lined up at the gates.
Research for me begins by
placing an historical character into which space they occupied in history. My
current work in progress requires me to keep track of the young King Charles II
as he travelled through Europe between 1653 and 1660. As one by one, Holland,
France and Spain signed treaties with Lord Protector Cromwell, Charles was
forced to leave those countries, and move elsewhere, appealing for monetary
handouts from royal relatives to support his entourage, and often hampered by
reluctant ministers of those same relatives who held the purse strings.
I found a two-volume book
online by Eva Scott, where Charles’ days of exile are written in impressive
detail, together with letters and conversations between him, Cromwell’s spies
and members of the European royal houses transcribed almost verbatim. My
problem now is how much of this engrossing history should I include in my novel
and which to leave out.
One interesting and amusing
snippet involved Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester, who was King Charles’
youngest brother and who tragically died of smallpox at 20, a few months after
Charles regained his throne. Apparently a sweet and charming young man, at
thirteen, his sister the Princess Royal, Mary of Orange was asked by her
ministers to request her brother leave the palace at The Hague because of his
habit of mounting his horse at the bottom of the grand staircase rather than in
the courtyard! According to Ms Scott’s account, their discreet request was
ignored by Princess Mary, though Charles acceded and Henry left soon afterward
for Cologne.
I love it and wish I could
include it in my book - maybe the king could mention it as an aside in one of
his letters to my heroine?
Only a few of these facts,
absorbing though they are, will find their way into my book - unfortunately - it’s
easy to get bogged down by the trivia of these characters. However, they help
me understand how twelve years of King Charles II’s nomadic life, the
humiliation, penury and a constant nagging uncertainty about his future
affected not only him, but the Cavaliers, those reckless, pleasure-loving men
who formed the decadent values of the Restoration Court.
Anita
Seymour Davison Bio
Latest Release
Royalist Rebel by Claymore Press, an
imprint of Pen and Sword, is released in January 2013
For a little
background on the novel and it’s era.
The National
Trust Website of Elizabeth Murray’s former home, Ham House, at Petersham near
Richmond, Surrey
Anita’s Blog
One of the interesting things about the old world is how intensely it is covered with "history"
ReplyDeleteAnita, welcome to Novel Spaces!
ReplyDeleteFascinating tidbit about mounting the horse at the foot of the stairs! It's details like that that give historical fiction its verisimilitude.