Written in My Own Heart's Blood

Quakers retained the familiar forms, though, as part of their “plain speech” until the twentieth century. Over the years, though, plain speech also evolved, and while “thee/thy” remained, “thou/thine” largely disappeared, and the verb forms associated with “thee/thy” changed. From about the mid-eighteenth century onward, plain speech used “thee” as the singular form of “you” (the plural form remained “you,” even in plain speech), with the same verb forms normally used for third person singular: e.g., “He knows that/ Thee knows that.” The older verb endings—“knowest,” “doth,” etc.—were no longer used.

If you would like to know a whole lot more about the grammatical foundations and usages of Quaker plain speech than most people normally want to, allow me to recommend to you No Need to be Ashamed of the Plain Language by Ke

You can find this on the QuakerJane.com website, or Google it (in case that website should no longer be extant).

Scots/Scotch/Scottish

As noted elsewhere (Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade, see “Author’s Notes”), in the eighteenth century (and, indeed, well into the mid-twentieth century), the word “Scotch” and its variants (e.g., “Scotchman”) were commonly used (by both English people and Scots) to describe an inhabitant of Scotland. The terms “Scottish” and “Scots” were also occasionally used, though less common.

Personally, I don’t think political correctness has any place in historical fiction, and therefore those persons in this book who normally would have used “Scotch” do.

Typos and Terminology

Owing to the interesting idiosyncrasies of Scots dialect, some words may appear to be misspelled—but they aren’t. For instance, while an English cook may have made her flapjacks on an iron griddle, her Scottish counterpart was frying sausages on a hot girdle. (This occasional transposition of sounds results in such entertaining items as a Scottish dessert known as “creamed crud” (“curd” to the less-imaginative English). It also results in the occasional inattentive reviewer denouncing the occurrence of “typos” in my books. This is not to say that there aren’t any typos—there always are, no matter how many eyeballs have combed the pages—just that “girdle” isn’t one of them.

Besides dialectical idiosyncrasies, there are also the oddities due to obsolete (but entirely accurate) usage. For example, at one point in this book, you will find someone hiding behind a pile of “spiled” barrels. I do not mean “spoiled,” and it isn’t a typo. “Spiled” means that a spile (a small wooden peg or spigot) has been driven into a cask in order to broach it and draw off liquid. So the pile is composed of barrels that have been drained of their contents. (Yes, I could indeed have said “a pile of empty barrels” instead, but what fun would that be?)

Bibliography/LibraryThing

Having been an academic for a good long time, I appreciate the virtues of a good bibliography. Having been a reader of novels for a lot longer, I sort of don’t think extensive bibliographies belong in them.

Still, one of the side effects of reading historical fiction often is a desire to learn more about events, locations, flora, fauna, etc., described therein. I have a goodish number of references (about 1,500, last time I counted), acquired over the last twenty-odd years of writing historical fiction, and am happy to share the bibliographic information for these.

As it’s not convenient to do that individually with a large number of people, I’ve put my whole reference collection (as of the begi



1 For example, Nathanael Greene’s remarks about Quakers are taken from his own letters, as is his reference to his father’s discouraging reading as “tending to separate one from God.”

2 With regard to maps and distances, etc., it’s worth noting that such things as township boundaries did change between the eighteenth century and the twenty-first. Ergo, Te

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

It takes me about four years to write one of the Big Books, what with research, travel, and the fact that they are … er … big. During that time, LOTS of people talk to me and kindly offer advice on everything from How to Reseat an Eyeball to what kind of a mess indigo-dyeing really makes, entertaining trivia (such as the fact that cows do not like daisies. Who knew?), and logistical support (mostly in terms of remembering when the people in my books were born and how far it is from point A to point B and in which direction—I went to a parochial school that stopped teaching geography in the fifth grade, so this is Not One of My Strong Points, and as for personal chronology, I just don’t care whether a given character is nineteen or twenty, but apparently lots of people do, and more power to them).

This being the case, I’m sure I’m leaving out dozens of kindly people who have given me useful information and assistance over the last four years and I apologize for not having written down their names at the time—but I surely do appreciate said information and assistance!

Among those whose names I did write down, I’d like to acknowledge …

… My literary agents, Russell Galen and Da

… Sharon Biggs Waller, for information about the Scots Dumpy and for bringing this charming chicken to my attention.

… Marte Brengle, for telling me about the forensic reconstruction of George Washington’s face, and Dr. Merih O’Donoghue, for notes on his disastrous dental history.

… Dr. Merih O’Donoghue and her ophthalmologist friend, for technical commentary and useful gruesome details concerning Lord John’s eye. Also for the teaching model of an eyeball, which adorns my bookshelves and gives interviewers who enter my office the willies.

… Carol and Tracey of MyOutlanderPurgatory, for their lovely photos of the battlefield at Paoli, which drew my attention to the Rebel rallying cry “Remember Paoli!” and the discovery of Lord John’s unpopular cousin.

… Tamara Burke, for bits of homestead and farming lore, most particularly for her vivid description of a rooster valiantly defending his hens.

… Tamara Burke, Joa

… Catherine MacGregor (Gaelic and French, including gruesome lullabies about beheaded lovers), Catherine-A

… Michael Newton, for permission to use his delightful translation of “To an Excellent Penis,” from his book The Naughty Little Book of Gaelic (which I recommend highly, for assorted purposes).

… Sandra Harrison, who saved me from Grievous Error by informing me that British police cars do not have flashing red lights, only blue ones.