During the early days of the Cariboo Gold Rush in British
Columbia, getting there presented a serious challenge to the miners as
Barkerville was located 400 miles north and east of Yale. Thick underbrush
clogged the mountainous route and some of the mountain passes still had five
feet of snow in April. Parts of the journey north were extremely dangerous and
horses and their owners would often fall to their deaths over the mountains or drown
in the swift and deep waters of the Fraser and Thompson Rivers.
However, the success of the gold fields and the great influx
of people made it necessary to improve access. The governor at that time,
Governor James Douglas, determined that a safe road was required and the Royal
Engineers were engaged for the task. In October of 1861, Colonel Richard
Clement Moody recommended that the Yale to Barkerville route through the Fraser
Canyon be built for the benefit of the country. The Royal Engineers assessed
the route and suggested it be built in sections: Yale to Spuzzum, Spuzzum to
Lytton, Lytton to the Lilooet Junction, Lilloet to Fort Alexandria, and Quesnel
to Barkerville.
When it was completed, some people called it the "Eight Wonder of the World."
While doing research for the book, my sweetie and I took a bit of a road trip through the Fraser Canyon. You can still see a portion of the original road in the Skihist Campground, just outside of Lytton on the Trans Canada Highway.
We followed the highway all the way through the Fraser Canyon and stopped to take these photos at the summit of Jackass Mountain. Far below you see the Fraser River.
Rose and Harrison meet on the final section of the road
between Quesnel to Barkerville. It was a particularly difficult section to
construct because of mud, swamp and fallen trees.
For more information on the Cariboo Gold Rush, this is a wonderful website: www.cariboogoldrush.com
You can read all about Rose and Harrison's gold rush adventures in Barkerville Beginnings, available at your favourite online store HERE.
Dialogue is one of the most useful tools an author has. You
can use it to move the plot along because the characters tell what’s going to
happen rather than the author. It happens in real time so
it’s a nice change of pace. It presents information such as back story (one
character talking to another.) It’s also useful as another means to develop
conflict – one character arguing with another. However, as an author
of historical romance, dialogue is an important tool to identify a character.
Word usage and slang defines a person and consequently defines the era in which
that character lives.
When I write dialogue, I have my trusty Merriam Webster
Tenth Edition Collegiate Dictionary by my side. (It’s a little frayed along the
bottom, an indicator of how much I pull it off the shelf.)
I use the dictionary to check when a word came into usage
and for that you can blame my technical background on my obsession with
details. For example, I wanted to use ‘poppycock’ in the book I’m working on now.
It came into usage in 1865 which doesn’t work for my story as it’s set in 1800.
Katherine Pym, co-author of Pillars of Avalon (along with Jude Pittman), Book 5 from the
Canadian Historical Brides Collection, does a terrific job of using dialogue to
define the era. Here’s an excerpt from the book:
“Aye.”
Frances dashed some numbers along another line. “The warehouse is large, it only
seems empty.” She regarded Sara with a smile. “You’ve done very well
provisioning the fleet. Do not think otherwise.” Something caught her eye. “Oiy,
you there, where’s the other barrel of wine? I shall not have any thievery committed
under our very noses.” Waving her ledger, she advanced sharply on a fellow carrying
a cask upon his shoulder.
“What
does you want, young lass?” he snarled at her. “Shouldn’t you be home with thy
mamma, eating mashed gruel?”
Frances’
back stiffened and Sara knew the man would regret his impertinence. “I beg your
pardon? Do you have an incontinent liver that needs correction? I shall call
the Watch and have you carried away for rude and disorderly behaviour.” She
leaned forward and hissed. “It will surely happen. Now, answer me truthfully.
Where’s the other cask of wine?”
Reading this, you know it’s not a contemporary story. Words
and phrases like oiy, thievery, thy mamma, mashed gruel, incontinent liver,
call the Watch, suggest an earlier time period.
The following excerpt from Barkerville Beginnings, Book 4
of the collection shows another example of how speech defines a person. It’s
obvious Robert McTague is a Scot by his word usage ie “me da’s croft” “ma’self” "nae" and his reference to Culloden as well as calling Harrison a “Sassenach”.
Not only that, in talking to Harrison, Robert gives us a little
information on Barkerville ie how many miners there were during the height of
the Cariboo Gold Rush. As well, a bit of back story for both characters is revealed ie Robert comes from a poor
farmer’s croft and like most other miners has travelled a fair distance to get
to Barkerville and Harrison knows a thing or two about horses.
“Harrison entered Mundorf
Stables. “Hello,” he shouted, scanning the stalls. Most were empty and through
the open double doors at the rear he noticed his mule team huddled together in
the corner of the pen. Nancy, ears pricked forward, hung her head over the top
rail, no doubt plotting her escape. At least they were here where he’d left
them last night so it appeared the livery owner was a trustworthy sort. However,
trustworthy enough to negotiate some sort of bargain remained to be seen.
A red-haired
man with a full red beard wandered out from one of the stalls. Harrison
recognized him as the fellow he’d shared his breakfast table with this morning.
A grin
ripped through the man’s beard, revealing front teeth buckled together. “Well,
look who’s here.” He gestured to the map under Harrison’s arm. “See you took my
advice and went to the commissioner’s office.” He held out his hand. “We didn’t
get around to exchanging names this morning. Robert McTague.”
The
Scottish burr in his voice sounded out of place and Harrison knew from their
brief chat at breakfast that the other man had also traveled halfway around the
world to join in on Cariboo gold fever. He grasped Robert’s hand, giving it a
good shake. The other man’s firm grip put Harrison at ease immediately.
“Harrison
St. John. I made it there but I don’t know what to do now. Other than see to my
livestock.”
“I’m
here doing the same thing ma’self. Rode in on my horse but he didn’t take too
well to the trail. I’m resting him up for now and hoping for the best. Hate to
shoot the beast although I hate to see him suffer too.”
“Been
here long?”
Robert
shook his head. “Maybe a week. But long enough to know this isn’t quite what I
expected.” He laughed. “I’ve washed a few pans of gravel on some of the
abandoned claims and only found enough gold dust ta pay for my food but I hate
to give up. There’s naught for me back home.”
“Scotland?”
“Aye.
Me da’s croft is full to bursting so I thought to make my own way in the world.
From your accent, I’d wager you’re English.”
“Indeed.
By way of Manchester.”
The
other man chuckled. “Well, we won’t talk about Culloden, now will we?”
Harrison
grinned. “No, I think not.” He pointed into the stall. “Is this the fellow
you’re nursing?”
Robert’s
face fell. “Aye. That’s Brutus.”
“I know
a thing or two about horses. Let me take a look at him.” He ran his hands over
the animal’s withers, flanks and on down its legs. “He feels sound enough. A
bit bony perhaps but I’d give him another day or two of rest and some good feed
before you decide anything.” The horse, a bay gelding, rubbed his nose against
Harrison’s shoulder and for an instant he felt a pang of regret for the four he
sold to finance his journey here. One day, he vowed, he’d have another set, equally
as fine as the first.
“I’d
thought the same. Time is the best healer.” Robert patted the horse’s nose.
“Do
you know many people here? Have you met a fellow by the name of Edmund
Chadwick?”
“Nae,
can’t say that I have. But hearsay has it there’s upwards of ten thousand men
here and up and around the hills. Could be he’s not made his way into town for
some time. These miners can get caught up with the fever and not wanting to
leave their claims unless necessary.” He clamped his lips, which made the hairs
of his beard stand up around his mouth like a pin cushion, and regarded
Harrison through narrowed eyes. “I’m looking for a partner. Two heads being
better than one and all that. Until now, I haven’t met anyone I’m wanting to
spend time with. But I’m thinking a Sassenach might be a good choice. You lot being
pigheaded and all.” He chuckled and held out his hand again. “What do you
think?”
“Partner?
You don’t know anything about me.”
“You’ve
a flair for horses and Brutus has taken to you, that’s good enough for me. And
like I said, you Englishmen are pigheaded as far as I can tell. That’ll stand a
man in good stead out here.”
Harrison
stared at the other man’s outstretched hand. His first inclination was to
decline the offer until he noted the trimmed, albeit dirty, fingernails and the
calluses on Robert’s palm. The sign of honest labour. He raised his gaze and
studied the other man’s face. Or rather, only his eyes and forehead seeing as
how his unruly beard covered everything else including his neck.
Robert
returned his gaze with guileless blue eyes. “Well?” he prompted.
Still
Harrison didn’t reply. Here he was, in Barkerville, with a wagon full of
supplies and nary an inkling of what to use them for. It might be helpful to
have a partner, especially someone already familiar with what to expect. It
made sense that the two would be stronger and more productive together.
Besides, half of something was better than all of nothing.
He
grabbed the Scot’s hand. “You’ve got yourself a partner. Where to now?”
“Let’s
find a saloon. The whiskey out here is rotgut but ‘tis good enough to wet your
whistle and raise a toast or two to God and country.” Robert chuckled. “And
Cariboo gold.””
Dialogue makes the characters and story come alive!
You can find "Pillars of Avalon", "Barkerville Beginnings" and the rest of the Canadian Historical Brides Collection here: www.bookswelove.com/canadian-historical-brides
Okay, so Tucson doesn’t really have anything to do with
Barkerville and the Canadian brides collection other than there was a fair bit
of mining in the area about the same time as the Cariboo Gold Rush. Silver and
copper mostly and gold later on once Arizona opened up a bit more.
So why Tucson? My sweetie and I head south every March to
get away from the Canadian winter. Actually, it’s not that we mind winter so
much, it’s that Calgary simply doesn’t have a spring! March is dreary, brown
and interminable so although we don’t do the full on snowbird thing, we do
spend 5 or 6 weeks touring the southwestern U.S. to get away from it. We don’t
plan anything other than we know we’ll hit the I15 which is a straight run
south for us. Usually the road is pretty clear but we hit a snow storm this
year in Montana.
Once we reach Las Vegas, we sit and thaw out for a few days
then start watching the weather to decide where to go next. It was a cold
spring everywhere this year so we drove further south than we usually do and
ended up in Oro Valley, on the northern outskirts of Tucson. Tucson is a great
spot, with lots of interesting things to see and do plus it’s not a mega city
like Phoenix and area which suits us perfectly.
We tend to visit railroad museums wherever we go and Tucson
was no exception. The original train station is right in the heart of the city
and has a small museum plus a vintage steam locomotive.
Why railroad museums? My husband is a model railroad
enthusiast and of course I love any kind of history so win win! Anyway, you
always discover something new when you’re out and about and imagine my surprise
to discover that Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday shot and killed a fellow by the
name of Frank Stilwell in revenge for the death of Wyatt’s brother Morgan.
Where? In Tucson’s train depot! A bronze statue commemorates the event. That worried look on my face? Those fellows have rifles pointed at me!
Of course I’d heard of both Earp and Holliday which is why
it surprised me to learn they’d been in Tucson all those years ago. Little
tidbits like that really bring history to life for me and as I stood on the
railroad platform, I could just imagine the men laying in wait for Stilwell. I
could imagine the horrified gasps and whispers of onlookers, the warmth of the
sun on my shoulders, the dry smell of dust, and the slowly spreading crimson
stains on Stilwell’s clothes. (You can read more about it here: https://www.historynet.com/stilwell-shooting-near-tucson-depot-called-quick-vengeance-murder.htm)
I did the same thing the various occasions I visited
Barkerville. I wandered the wooden sidewalks and imagined the town as it might
have been 150 years ago. I imagined the streets crowded with wagons, mules and cattle,
the smell of wood smoke, the clang clang of the black smith’s hammer, the thump
of boots on the walkways, the shouts of joy from miners who struck it bit, and
the sobs and groans from those who didn’t.
Anyhow, as a writer of historical romance and fiction, my
goal is to bring history to life for my readers. I try and envision life as it
might have been for my characters, a kind of time travel if you will. If I can
take you back to a different era, then I feel I’ve accomplished my goal.
~~~~~~~~
Find Barkerville Beginnings at your favourite online store here:
https://books2read.com/u/bQB6Mv
