Despite
adoring his family and enjoying frequenting gaming tables, Captain Josiah
Tenterchilt’s true love is the British Army and he is committed to his duty. As
such, he does not hesitate to answer the army’s call when King Louis XVI of
France is executed.
Accompanied by his wife to Flanders, Josiah finds his path crosses with a man
who could not be more different from him: an apprentice surgeon named Henry
Fotherby. As these two men pursue their own actions, fate and the careful
connivance of a mysterious individual will push them together for the rest of
their lives.
But it is a tumultuous time, and the French revolutionaries are not the only
ones who pose a threat. The two gentlemen must find their place in a world
where the constraints of social class are inescapable, and ‘slavery or
abolition’ are the words on everyone’s lips.
Beneath Black Clouds and White is the prequel to Day's Dying Glory, which
was published by Crowvus in April 2017.
The inspiration behind Black Clouds and White
Virginia Crow
God
and the Devil in the Deeds of a Surgeon
Beneath
Black Clouds and White was the third book I
wrote with the Tenterchilt family, so I’d already got to know them quite well. I
had planned out every aspect of their lives from 1806-1855, spanning three
generations. I had looked into the evolution of social constraints over that
time, as well as the military advancements made (the Tenterchilts are a
military family, with only occasional deviations from this rule).
But
now it was time for something different. I was ready to go backward in time. And
so I told the story of how the paths, which would later build this dynasty,
first crossed. I don’t want to spoil the later stories for anyone who hasn’t
read them, but the friendship between Josiah Tenterchilt and Henry Fotherby was
one that would last them both for their whole lives.
The
only problem was this:
When
we meet Henry Fotherby in Day’s Dying Glory, he is a disillusioned
former army surgeon, who is now a doctor. I knew he had an amazing backstory,
but to tell it to its full worth, I had to really explore the world of military
and civilian medicine and surgery during the 1790s.
I
do almost all my research under the cautionary – and seemingly contradicting – phrases:
God
is in the details
and
The
devil is in the detail
I
had flippantly remarked in Day’s Dying Glory that Fotherby had saved
Major Tenterchilt’s leg and life after he was wounded several years ago. I’d
been content to know that such things were reported to have happened, usually
by the soldiers in question. But now I’d embarked upon this prequel, it was not
enough to know that it happened, I needed to know how
it happened.
During
the second half of the eighteenth century, medicine and surgery were both
beginning to make speedier advancements. But much of what was practiced could
still be traced back to ancient techniques. As warfare had evolved, however,
the surgery to deal with it evolved too.
So
I delved into the world of medicine.
Buxton letter of thanks to a physician
One
of the most fascinating things was how effectively primitive methods were used.
Simple things, like using a cut onion to draw out toxin from a wound. Who comes
up with that?
Also,
and somewhat disturbing, was looking through the implements which were used in battlefield
surgery. The lack of reliable anaesthetic was a big thing, and the accounts I
read of both successful and fatal procedures, could have made much more
comfortable reading with a dose or two of ketamine!
As
it was, here is how events played out in the novel:
“This
is your challenge, Fotherby. If you fail in this then the army will not have
you back no matter how many exams you take.”
The
weight of the man’s words fell heavily on his shoulders as Captain Peters
thrust the scalpel towards him. He bit his lower lip thoughtfully as he
accepted the instrument from his captain’s outstretched hand. Not daring to
look at Kitson, he stepped over to the campaign desk and exchanged the scalpel
for a thin pair of long-handled forceps and tried to stop his hands from
shaking. He knew he was doing the right thing. Whatever Peters and Kitson
thought, this was a new battlefield procedure, successfully practised during
the American war.
Kitson
stepped away from the table, his hands raised in a surrendering gesture, before
he returned to tend some of the other wounded men. Peters nodded slowly towards
Fotherby before he took Captain Tenterchilt’s shoulders and tried to hold him
still, but he awoke and tried to free himself of the man who stood over him.
With
a strength that surprised Fotherby, Peters pushed him back down with one hand
and, snatching the leather strap of Captain Tenterchilt’s sword belt, he pushed
it into the man’s mouth.
“Get
on with it, Fotherby.”
Fotherby
tried to ignore the twitches the man before him made. He applied a tourniquet
and, pinning Captain Tenterchilt’s leg still beneath him, stretched the wound
open far enough to allow the forceps into the man’s tissue. If he felt that at
any point he was losing his control he considered all that weighed upon his
success and, selfishly, he realised that it was not solely this man’s life, nor
the happiness of his wife whose heartrending distress he had witnessed earlier,
that was at stake. It was a proof that he could go on to achieve that goal he
had dreamt of as a surgeon. As he delved further into the man’s leg, Captain
Tenterchilt’s movements became more and more desperate, so that Fotherby almost
lost control of the instrument in his hand, before at last he felt the ends of
the forceps close about the shot. Pulling it back as gently as he could, he
tried to steady his shaking hand. The ball slipped only once before Fotherby
pulled it out from the captain’s leg. Captain Tenterchilt lay still, his eyes
were closed and his body no longer tried to resist the crude surgery. For a
moment Fotherby thought that he had died but, as he poured a sprinkling of wine
into the man’s wound, the captain forced himself out of the hold that Peters
had on him and tried to reach his leg. Fotherby stumbled away from such a
gesture but Peters snatched the captain to him and, holding his arm about
Captain Tenterchilt’s throat, spoke calmly to his apprentice.
“Are
you to stitch the wound, Fotherby?”
Fotherby
nodded quickly and tried to steady his nerves and his hands to thread the
circular needle before he proceeded to apply surprisingly neat stitches to the
wound. He felt quietly proud of himself as he stood back to admire his work.
But as his gaze turned to the pained face of the man he had just operated on,
spitting out the leather belt which was now peppered with tooth marks, he felt
his resolve shatter and the needle slipped from his fingers as he fumbled with
the knife to sever the thick thread.
Ultimately,
it is this scene which sets up everything which follows in the book, and its
sequels (of which there are three, but only one published so far!). It is this
daring procedure which enables Fotherby to qualify and, when he is challenged
on it by the Royal College of Surgeons, he responds:
“when
the alternative is death it is a good time to put the case for living to the
test.”
It
was important to Fotherby’s character that he not only knew but also acted
upon the latest medical advancements. This meant that I was flicking through
some of the most obscure and – quite frankly – terrifying accounts of what the surgeon did to their fellow men in the hopes of bettering their lives. But
Fotherby is an idealist throughout the books and, if he sees that something has
worked, he is always eager to put it to the test.
After
researching the surgery aspects of the medical history, next came the
qualification side. This was much lighter reading, thank goodness! I found a
couple of accounts from individuals who had partaken in the exams during the
years around when Fotherby would have been there and placed my setting within
their description. Writing it up was pretty fun, working within the confines of the accounts while putting Fotherby’s rose-tinted outlook on it all.
Remembering that God and the devil were lurking in the finer details, I
reviewed the policy of Surgeons’ Hall in regard to qualifications and had the
grumpy clerk announce:
“Next
exam is on 20th February then again on 6th March. First and third Thursdays
each month. If you have a genuine interest in joining the Surgeons’ Hall you
should have known that.”
But,
not dissuaded for more than a short while, Fotherby qualifies. By the end of
the book, he has undergone the complete transition from a young man with big
dreams to a gentleman with enough qualifications to make him a doctor.
I
like to think my foray into medical history provides an extra three-dimensional
slant to the storytelling. It certainly sparked a fascination within me and,
since writing Beneath Black Clouds and White, I’ve always been
meticulous about the topic.
Kirkmichael Graveyard
At
the moment, I’m writing a Middle-Grade novel set during the Black Death
outbreak in Kirkmichael for a class at our local primary school. In many ways,
it’s a gruelling topic to research – and trickier still to make it Middle Grade
appropriate! – but I like to imagine Fotherby back then and how he might have
responded to it. He would have made it all make sense and, via the details with
God and the devil, I hope that’s what I managed to do, too.
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About the Author
Virginia Crow
Virginia grew up in Orkney, using the breath-taking
scenery to fuel her imagination and the writing fire within her. Her favourite
genres to write are fantasy and historical fiction, sometimes mixing the two
together such as her newly-published book "Caledon". She enjoys
swashbuckling stories such as The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas and is
still waiting for a screen adaption that lives up to the book! When she's not
writing, Virginia is usually to be found teaching music, and obtained her MLitt
in "History of the Highlands and Islands" last year. She believes
wholeheartedly in the power of music, especially as a tool of inspiration. She
also helps out with the John O'Groats Book Festival which is celebrating its
3rd year this April. She now lives in the far-flung corner of Scotland, soaking
in inspiration from the rugged cliffs and miles of sandy beaches. She loves
cheese, music, and films, but hates mushrooms.
Connect
with Virginia:
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