Visiting the Past by Eden Monroe

 

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When I was given the opportunity to represent New Brunswick in the exciting Canadian Historical Mysteries project, I was of course thrilled. I happily accepted. But write a mystery? I suppose it’s not much of a lane change from suspense, so sure, I was immediately up for it.

I’d never written historical fiction, but once I tried it on for size that too fit like a glove. After much thought I chose the 1920’s for Who Buried Sarah, a historically active time in Canada with prohibition in full swing and the relative free for all that characterized the roaring twenties. The story for the most part takes place in 1927, and much of it is set in the quiet little southern New Brunswick hamlet of Gondola Point, located next door to the village of Rothesay – also a focal point in the book. My mother spent most of her formative years in that area. My father lived in Gondola Point at one time too, and it was while selling strawberries door to door that he met my mother, so the setting is in salute to both of them.

The historically rich city of Saint John also figures prominently in Who buried Sarah. I certainly couldn’t overlook the sumptuous offerings of the oldest incorporated city in Canada, an old port enclave with a tale to tell about the shenanigans of the colourful Prohibition era.

The 1920’s were a transformative time in many ways, including acting as the catalyst for what was known at the time as the modern woman - the fiercely independent and adventurous flappers. And while that movement might have sprung to life in the United States, it was hugely influential around the world, including New Brunswick, and women here also experienced the impact of those spirited times.

Sarah Estey, one of the main characters in Who Buried Sarah and indeed the unfortunate cadaver, not only saw herself as a modern woman, but was also keenly influenced by the flapper look, incorporating it into the design of her wedding dress. It would forever be the dress Sarah would have worn to marry the handsome and wealthy Connor McLagen had she lived to walk down the aisle.

Had she done so, she would have been a vision in impeccably stylized ivory silk exquisitely embellished with intricate beading and fine embroidery, her platinum blonde hair adorned with an elegant headpiece. From the glitter of rhinestones to the lustre of seed pearls, there was a wide variety of bridal veils in vogue in 1927.

I thoroughly enjoyed stepping back in time to tell this story, embracing the characters’ moods, hopes and dreams – really not so different from the people of today. I loved the fashion and finery of the 1920’s - the elegance of a bygone era, but there were storytelling challenges. One was the obvious lack of household conveniences such as modern forms of conveyance, so moving my characters from place to place was at times a bit challenging given that the story took place in more than one location. Thankfully though automobiles were beginning to make their way into the lives of everyday New Brunswickers by the late 1920’s, as were telephones, an important communication device that we now take for granted.

It was fun to write a story set almost a hundred years ago and of course there was a significant amount of research required, but it was an exercise as valuable as it was entertaining.

The following is a brief excerpt from Who Buried Sarah, focusing in this instance on the reception given by the affluent McLagens on the occasion of the engagement of their son to the vivacious Sarah Estey. Held at the prestigious Royal Hotel located in the heart of downtown Saint John, it was an important social event and fashionably attended:

“It was the McLagens of course who were giving this elaborate engagement party on behalf of their son, because appearances must be maintained despite Connor’s inflexibility. The event was being held in the dining room of the prestigious Royal Hotel on King Street, in its stately prime after being rebuilt following the great fire of 1877. That massive conflagration was the worst in Canadian history, claiming upwards of twenty thousand lives and razing a good portion of the port city of Saint John. That included the Royal Hotel located on Prince William Street at the time of the fire. However, the city had risen from the ashes in defiant splendour, with many architectural masterpieces erected in the years that followed.

The Hotel was a gracious host. Following the toast, delicious pineapple upside down cake was served for dessert, still the dessert of choice in 1926. Guests chatted over coffee until Pritchard McLagen brought the dinner to a close in his usual forthright manner.

“Now everyone we’ve had our celebration,” he boomed, pushing his considerable bulk to a standing position, “and I thank you for being here with us. Good evening to you all.”

Taking the broad hint, there was a corresponding scraping of chairs on the polished parquet floor as guests rose obediently to their feet. Ladies’ wraps were subsequently fetched and gentlemen’s headgear retrieved. The majority of those present were friends and business associates of the McLagens and appropriately fawning. They were still in high spirits as they made their way out of the hotel and spilled onto the sidewalk. Many opted for a stroll in King’s Square, Saint John’s garden spot just a short distance up the hill at the top of King Street. The Square was at its loveliest on this unusually balmy late September evening, its abundance of formal gardens still resplendent in their showy summer colours, pigeons billing and cooing at the pedestrians’ feet. The City Cornet Band struck up yet another lively tune on the upper deck of the two-story bandstand that straddled the silver dance of the Square’s central fountain. The bandstand with its filigree metal framework and copper roof topped with a cornet, had been a gift to the city from the band itself in 1909 as a tribute to King Edward VII.”

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