On the hunt for water . . .

In Years of Stone, two characters gather by a water pump.

But were there water pumps in common use in Hobart Town in the 1840s?

I've read newspaper reports that linked yellow fever to standing water in Hobart Town at this time. But I can't find anything about how the average person got water home. In a bucket from a town well? From a nearby stream? That necessarily would be polluted because of the numbers of people living in Hobart Town at that time.Where would 'honey buckets' be dumped? How did people do their laundry? Go to the bathroom? Find water for cooking? Wash their hands?

What I've found so far:

William Buelow Gould
(Source: Wikipedia)

• Lynn Coleman's "Historical Tidbits" focuses on the 19th Century and makes fascinating reading.
• A wonderful guest blog by award-winning Gary Schanbacher (author, Crossing Purgatory), on the difference between a historical novel and a novel set in a historical time on Reading the Past (more about this below).
• A commitment to reading other novels set in Van Diemen's Land. I now have Australian writer Richard Flanagan's Gould's Book of Fish on my to-read pile. Surely I shall find water somewhere in this book that has accolades and awards, including the book itself being recognized by UNESCO as a document of world significance. 

Finally, got the idea to search for water in the National Library of Australia's TROVE, a searchable database of digitized newspapers (and other reference materials).

First step: need to find the right key words, so 1840 + water brought ship movements, postings seeking persons who would carry people by boat, a continuing report on ships arriving at the Brisbane Water (I'm guessing from several entries, including birth announcements, that this is a neighborhood); the establishment of water police, and laments about the scarcity of water in Sydney.

Narrow search terms: trying again with 1840 + water + Van Diemen's Land: Found Legislative Council in June 1840 on the search for 'pure water' in Hobart Town and Port, common punishments of 'bread and water'. 

Nothing retrieved from 'clean water' or 'potable water' but 'drinking water' found this fascinating tidbit set near Melbourne, but still interesting for showing problems related to drinking water.

"In January, 1844, the baths on the Yarra, opposite the Customs House were opened. Quaint by-laws appear in the council's books - to prohibit bathing in the Yarra in the portion whence the town's drinking water was dawn; 'to rid the town of the nuisance of the mangy (sic) dogs which follow in the Train of the Aborigines'; and to 'prevent the carting of Rubbish, Filth, and Dead Animals from one part of the town to another.' " (Source: "Melbourne's First Mayor": The Argus, Melbourne, Vic. 1848 - 1957) 7 Jan 1933: 6. Web. 21 Jul 2013 <http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article4518153>.

The articles found in this thread show a compelling concern over "clean and wholesome" drinking water.

At a certain point, perhaps I should just rewrite the scene in Years of Stone so that my two characters are doing something other than drawing water from a pump or a well or a nearby stream. But this gets me back to Schanbacher's essay: What is realistic for this time? Even in such a small detail, what are the authentic concerns of my characters, especially given the outbreak of yellow fever?

Aha! Back to TROVE with new research terms!

Oh, dear. I found a horrible little story, reported in the Victorian-based Portland Guardian, in January 1901, and based on a telegram from Paris. Apparently a Madam Bobin, traveling by steamer from Senegal to Panillac, died of yellow fever. But the nurse expressed doubts that this was the cause of her death, based on her observations of the body. The family had the body exhumed to discover an infant in the coffin, and that Madam Bobin died of asphyxiation.  A grim little tale I never would have found if not for this search for water.

So back to 'yellow fever' as the search term. . . . 

If you write historical fiction, how do you track down those elusive bits?

More about Mathinna

I wrote about Mathinna's history last April. This evocative painting of her by Thomas Bock calls me back again and again, and so today I put the unveiling of this portrait in my story, Years of Stone, set in Tasmania in 1842.

But writing is never so simple. Sometimes there are surprises.

Right now I'm revising Years of Stone, rereading and revising, and yet feeling like progress is very slow. I read a note from Rick Bylina this morning who is cutting back on his social 'platform' to free up more time for writing. His cry: Write on! His personal challenge: 500 words a day.

So I thought perhaps I should just try this and write my 500 words.

I began by blocking the scene of a soiree at Government House because it was incomplete. I listed the characters, their potential motivations and conflicts, and then set the scene as Deidre looks at this painting of Mathinna, just unveiled.

Now, of course, I had to go look at the painting again. Here's the surprise. Notice that oval surrounding Mathinna. There's rather an apocryphal story about Australian author Richard Flanagan being inspired by the painting of Mathinna, seen first in a storage room at a museum. The image here is unframed, but if the painting were framed in a typical oval frame, Mathinna's bare feet would be hidden. Ha!

Former convict painter Thomas Bock, truly celebrated today for his insightful early paintings of aboriginals, and popular in the 1830s until his death in 1855 for his portraits of the wealthy, gave us quite a gift. A picture of the essential Mathinna.

Here's the scene that resulted:

Deidre drew closer to the framed, formal painting. Mathinna’s expressive dark eyes looked back at her, forever six years old, a plaintive half-smile on her lips, hands clasped, as Deidre had never seen her,  Mathinna, sitting quietly, no possum nearby.

“What do you think of it?” asked Thomas Bock, his high dome forehead catching the light from the chandeliers above.

“It’s certainly very true to her nature,” replied Deidre. “She seems wistful.”

“Ah, she didn’t want to sit still.”  Bock gestured at the painting. “She wanted to have her little pet painted as well, but Lady Franklin did not approve. So, we made a concession. She was to sit still, and I was to paint her bare feet, but outside the oval of the formal portrait. I wish you could see the whole painting.”

Deidre looked at the painting again and tried to imagine Mathinna's bare feet peeking out from her beloved red dress. With the ornate oval frame, that essential symbol of her freedom and her exuberance hidden, Mathinna was fixed in time, proper and sedate. “It’s still a remarkable painting.”

Source of image: Wikipedia