Thorn in My Heart (64 page)

I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as Was said to me.

S
IR
W
ALTER
S
COTT

O
ne of the more famous paintings of Robert Burns shows a rapt young Walter Scott seated on the floor, holding an open book while staring up at the legendary poet entering Sibbald's Library. With my first historical novel in hand, I feel a bit as Walter must have, humbled and awed by the talents of those who've already traveled this ground. When I read John Buchan or Neil Munro, George MacDonald or Samuel Rutherford Crockett, Robert Louis Stevenson or Sir Walter Scott, I wonder that I have the nerve even to try my hand at eighteenth-century Scottish historical fiction.

Then I remember that the whole notion ‘twas not my idea to begin with, and I rest in the divine guidance that brought me here and the kind souls whoVe walked beside me with their gleaming candles held high, whispering words of encouragement. A special thanks to my editorial team at WaterBrook Press—Laura Barker, Carol Bardey, Rebecca Price, Lisa Tawn Bergren, Dudley Delffs, Paul Hawley, and Danelle McCafferty—and to my cherished early readers, Sara Fortenberry, Diane Noble, and Benny Gillies—and to my eagle-eyed proofreaders, Susan Richardson and Leesa Gagel. Your enthusiastic direction made all the difference.

My fictional journey across Galloway began seven years before
Thorn in My Heart
found its way into print. When Scodand beckoned as a possible setting for my tale about a woman who was neither beautiful nor loved, a visit to bonny Galloway put the question of location to rest. Photo albums began to fill, as did my writing-loft bookshelves. Five research trips to Scodand and two to England followed as the story
unfolded. A thousand colorful photographs and five hundred Scottish resource tides later,
Thorn in My Heart
finally saw the light of day.

Except for historical figures mentioned in the text, such as Robert the Bruce, few of the characters in the novel lived and breathed in 1788. The locations, however, are very real indeed. The only placenames plucked from my imagination were Maxwell Park—though Galloway is thick with Maxwells—and the farm in Kirkbean called Nethercarse. I simply couldn't bear to think of sullying some fine Galloway farm by having that ugsome Fergus McDougal live there. As to the rest of the major characters, if their stories feel a wee bit familiar, that's by intent. You'll find a parallel tale in the Bible, specifically in Genesis 25:19-34 and Genesis 27-29. Leah's heart-piercing story cried out to be told, and I could hardly refuse her.

Perhaps this novel has introduced you to some delightful Scottish words.
Pernickitie
is my personal favorite. I consulted the
Concise Scots Dictionary
(1999) for accuracy and Charles Mackay's
A Dictionary of Lowland Scotch
(1888) for sheer pleasure. Proper spellings for the clachans and burghs of Galloway varied from map to map and book to book, sometimes differing in the
same
book. Francis Grose's
The Antiquities of Scotland
(1797) shows Threave Casde spelled
Thrive m
the caption beneath the sketch of the casde, then
Thrieve
and
Thrieff'm
the text. You'll recall that Jamie passed brooding Threave Casde on his journey east. The image of Threave on the back cover was taken by Allan Wright, a talented Galloway photographer, whose work can be enjoyed at
www.LyricalScodand.co.uk
. For consistency, I based the spellings for
Thorn in My Heart on
Sir John Sinclair's
The Statistical Account of Scotland (1799)
, the most useful of all my research volumes.

Two contemporary Scottish ministers were exceedingly helpful during my research visits. Reverend William Holland, minister of New Abbey Parish Church (yes, two words now), not only offered generous hospitality in the form of shortbread and tea at the manse but also answered dozens of questions about parish life in the late 1700s. And Reverend Hugh Steele, minister of Monigaff Parish Church (yes, one
N
now), was kind enough to tromp about the kirkyard with me to locate
the gravestones of many a McKie, then directed me to the stained-glass windows above the pulpit depicting Jacob and Esau, as well as Rachel. Another serendipity.

Since raising blackface sheep is not one of the skills on my resume, I am indebted to Mr. and Mrs. Dempster of Castlehill Farm near Lockerbie, who made me most welcome in their kitchen and filled my tape recorder with the wisdom and experience of their years of raising sheep. At East Culkae Farm in Sorbie, Mrs. McMuldroch chatted about farm life while serving the creamiest, sweetest Scottish tablet (a buttery sort of fudge) that I've ever tasted.

The House o’ the Hill Inn was infamous among smugglers, appearing on most of the oldest Lowland maps from the 1600s on. On my latest visit to Galloway, I slept and supped at the present House o’ the Hill (circa 1800), where the friendly proprietor, one John Allwood, not only shared his maps and lore with me but gamely escorted me up to the crest of the hill where the
original House o
the Hill stood. The ruins remain, surrounded by pines. (I'm quite certain I heard Walloch crashing through the trees, its braw rider desperate for lodging, but never did catch a glimpse of them.) John and I surmise that the ruins date from the seventeenth century, though they could be even older than that.

When Lachlan suggests Leana run off to Gretna Green to marry, he is referring to an infamous spot just inside the Scottish border where couples could be joined in matrimony without the usual waiting period. In Leana's time, this irregular wedding would have been conducted by one George Gordon, the “high priest” of Gretna Green until 1789. An old soldier, not a clergyman, Mr. Gordon reportedly wore a bygone military uniform with a huge cocked hat, a scarlet coat and jackboots, and a ponderous sword swinging from his belt. His “church,” such as it was, looked more like a barn, and his “altar” was an ale cask, its only redeeming feature being the open Bible that sat on top of it.

Leana mentions the book
Primitive Physic, or an Easy and Natural Method of Curing Most Diseases.
Written by Reverend John Wesley (1702-1791), the book was in its twenty-first edition by 1785. Very popular in England, some copies of this book of useful remedies made
their way north to Scotland as well. Ministers were often the most educated men in the parish and were frequendy called upon to give medical advice, turning to books such as
Primitive Physic
for guidance.

For most of the Scottish nonfiction books on my shelves, as well as the custom map at the front of this novel, I have cartographer and antiquarian bookseller Benny Gillies to thank. His tidy bookshop near Castle Douglas in the village of Kirkpatrick Durham—filled with Scottish books, maps, and prints—is a bibliophile's paradise. Should a trip to his shop not be on your calendar this year, do visit him online at www. bennygillies. co.uk.

My heartfelt thanks go to the librarians of Casde Douglas, Dumfries, and Kirkcudbright, who made me feel welcome and guided me through their shelves. In addition to the tides mentioned above, the following dozen were the most helpful:

For those who enjoy such information, you 11 find my full bibliography on my Web site,
www.LizCurtisHiggs.com/Fiction
, along with
photos of some of the locations featured in
Thorn in My Heart
, additional historical notes, diaries from my Scottish trips, reader comments, links to my favorite Scottish sites, recommended Scottish music that inspired me as I wrote, and some delicious Scottish recipes. Should you care to use
Thorn in My Heart
as a springboard for a biblical study of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel, you 11 find a guide for that on my site as well.

Kindly contact me directly to request my free newsletter,
The Graceful Heart
, printed and mailed once a year, and any of the following free items that might be of interest to you:

And please visit my Web site:

Until next time, dear reader, you are a blissin!