Difficult History

I was at the Archive in Orkney last week and I've been working my way through some of the things Hugh Marwick chose to leave out of Merchant Lairds of Long Ago. They often seem to be omissions that protect the Traills. Sometimes, research is thrilling. Mostly it's tedious. Sometimes, though, it chills your heart with horror.

When I first encountered Barbara Fea, I was taken in by the defiance and dignity she showed and found it hilarious just how afraid the Traills were of this young woman.

The more I uncover of the conspiracy to disinherit her and of her age at the time of her pregnancy, the harder it becomes to find joy in the prospect of sharing her story.

When my main sources are court records, it's inevitable that I'm meeting this woman through her most difficult moments. I wonder what picture someone would have of me if they only knew me as Witness A in a murder trial that took place more or less exactly 25 years ago. I still have PTSD, not just from watching a man die despite our attempts to save him, but from the court experience. The aggression of the murderer's lawyer and the attempts to undermine the overwhelming evidence of his guilt means I know very clearly how it feels to face a hostile courtroom.

I was only a witness. Barbara Fea was subjected to so much horror.

I'd been struggling to confirm Barbara Fea's age at the time of the birth of her daughter, Jean. The only source, The Real Captain Cleveland, puts it at 1689. Jean Traill was born in 1702. Patrick Traill was baptised on the 8th of October 1679.

In court, John Traill, Patrick's father, says his son was an innocent boy of 17 when Barbara seduced him. I don't think it's true - Barbara's father Patrick Fea was ejected from Stronsay around 1695 and didn't return until 1699. Also, Patrick Traill was serving on his father's ship at that age. But it seems so difficult to imagine a father standing up in court and saying his 17 year old son was seduced by a 7 year old girl.

In court and in other books, they describe a "courtship" or an "affair" but I can't really see it as anything other than awful abuse. Assuming they met when her family returned to Whitehall, he was around or over 20, she was barely ten. Her family home had been stripped of all belongings and furniture, so one can imagine a "kindly" cousin offering the child a warm place to stay.

He writes letters promising marriage, knowing his father and his family absolutely forbid it.

I know we can't always apply modern ideas to historical mindsets, but it's really hard to see this as anything other than the rape of a very young girl. As soon as the pregnancy is apparent, he flees with his father's help and writes to his brother with a clear implication he hopes the baby doesn't survive to birth, dreading the consequences of becoming a father.

The abuse continues, with her having survived at least two attempts to kill her by the age of 20. One involved John and David Traill nailing a door shut to trap her for days before sending an armed gang to murder her, with the injuries suggesting blows intended to ensure that even if she survived them, she would never bear another child.

This is going to be really hard to write about, but it is so important to know these things. Her story ends well, with her death being among friends who loved her as family and with a will that rewarded those who'd helped her and a large legacy to help the poor of Stronsay.

But to get us there, I've got to write a story that involves a woman surviving awful things and that's going to be really difficult to manage.

When you read historical fiction or biographies that handle awful experiences, how do you prefer to encounter that? Straight on, living with someone through the worst day of their life or learning about it later on?

I'm going to have to try out several voices for this, with several approaches, but I just wanted to share with you the harsh difficulties of writing about the worst, most awful days in someone's life.