Showing posts with label nitrous oxide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nitrous oxide. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

History and me, Part II

by Carola Dunn


Continued from http://murderousmusings.blogspot.com/2013/05/history-and-me.html

...The world was changing...
Dick Turpin was a highwayman of credit and renown

... Again around 1800, roads were improving, highwaymen and footpads were much reduced in numbers, and someone invented springs for carriages (Before that, the body was hung on leather straps). Travel was so much easier that gentlemen going up to London for Parliament and the court took their wives and daughters along, and the London Season was born.
 Later came the railways, but still a respectable young lady would not travel without a male or older female relative for chaperon. World War I and the automobile age put an end to that. By the 1920s, a young woman who had driven generals about during the war--or even an ambulance at the front--was not about to be satisfied with sitting meekly behind the chauffeur. They owned and drove their own motor cars, or at least had a bicycle.

Daisy's Gwynne Eight
 By 1919, women over 30 could even vote in national elections and graduate from Oxford University (though not from Cambridge for another 30+ years!).

The shadows of the First World War still hung heavily over Britain. About a million young men went to their deaths on the battlefields or later from wounds and the effects of poison gas. Many of those who returned alive suffered from shell-shock, the equivalent of what we call PTSD. A large number of young women lost their husbands while others would never have an opportunity to marry. 

UK edition

On the other hand, many young women, having experienced the comparative freedom and good wages of factory work, were unwilling to return to domestic service. And a lack of men to take up the professions gradually allowed increasing numbers of women to become lawyers, accountants, doctors, and engineers.

For Daisy Dalrymple, the protagonist of my 1920s series, finding her way in a swiftly changing world is as much of a challenge as solving any of the crimes she just happens to stumble upon.

From failing history, I have come to the point of being obsessive about historical detail. I spend hours looking up words and phrases to make sure they're appropriate for the period about which I'm writing. I revel in old newspapers, as much or more for the advertisements as for the news. I note the names of police officers in Berwick upon Tweed in 1923--and use them (Murder on the Flying Scotsman), and email dental museums to enquire how nitrous oxide was administered by dentists in 1924 (Die Laughing). I pore over the Day Book of the Governor of the Tower of London for April 1925, when Daisy falls over the body of a Beefeater/Yeoman of the Guard (The Bloody Tower). I know more about the rumrunners of the Prohibition than most Americans. And then there's the treatments--water and electric--available at a Derbyshire hydro/spa in 1926 (Gone West).


Now I'm also writing a series (the Cornish Mysteries) set around 1970. Yes, I lived through the '60s and '70s. It's hard to grasp that they're now history. As I say in an author's note at the beginning of the three books, I haven't tied myself down to a specific year in the series, as I did for years in the Regencies and Daisy's adventures.  But I'm still doing obsessive research on subjects such as the equipment of ambulances and lifeboats at the time and the position of women in the police force...

And I really enjoy it!


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

How to kill people

by Carola Dunn

One of the difficulties in writing a long series is trying to find new ways to kill people. I'm not really keen on incredibly complicated devices such as some Golden Age authors used--carefully aimed rifles that were fired by invisible twine when the victim opened the garden gate, or when a candle burning down set the twine on fire, for instance.

Yet I don't want to repeat myself too much. By the time you get to the twenty-first book in a series, it's a real problem.

Let me see--I've had drowning, shooting, ye olde blunt instrument to the head, poison, prehistoric stone knife, dagger in the back, ceremonial halberd, thumbs to the carotid arteries, smothering with a pillow, blowing up with coal-gas, breathing coal-gas, breathing nitrous oxide, crushed by a stone angel, strangling with a stocking, chucking overboard, fall from a cliff...

[No, Daisy did NOT push him over!]

You see the trouble? I just may have to add "run over by a tram" to the list. Come to think of it, that's not a bad idea!

Just looked up the relevant city and this is what I found: 

"City chaos

Despite Council promises, from June 1903 until the opening day, havoc had reigned.
Tram in Worcester copyright Leslie OppitxTram in Broad Street copyright L Oppitz
All the main streets in the city centre were dug up for the removal of the old lines used by the former horse-drawn tramcars and for the installation of wider lines and overhead power cables for the new electric trams.
The city was cast into total chaos and the whole operation led to what became known locally and nationally as "The Tramway Siege of Worcester 1903-4".
Citizens had to get around the central area entirely on foot to shop or to do their business, some pushing prams or other makeshift two-wheeled trolleys to carry their goods.
The Council remained optimistic claiming: "What is in view is cheapness - a welcome penny fare to each boundary of the city, a more frequent service, and trams to and fro on every route every ten minutes’.
1904 tram copyright L Oppitz1904 tram - copyright Leslie Oppitz
All cars were fitted with slipper brakes because of gradients in Rainbow Hill and London Road."

The trams ran until 1928--the year after my book takes place, when they were replaced by buses.

Yes indeed, I think someone's going to get run over by a tram...

Friends of Daisy: can you remember any methods of murder I've forgotten?


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