General James Wolfe, along with Montcalm, was of course a real historical character, as was Brigadier Simon Fraser (whom you will have met—or will meet later—in
An Echo in the Bone
). My own rule of thumb when dealing with historical persons in the context of fiction is to try not to portray them as having done anything worse than what I
know
they did, according to the historical record.
In General Wolfe’s case, Hal’s opinion of his character and abilities is one commonly held and recorded by a number of contemporary military commentators. And there is documentary proof of his attitude toward the Highlanders, whom he used for this endeavor, in the form of the letter quoted in the story: “.… no great mischief if they fall.” (Allow me to recommend a wonderful novel by Alistair MacLeod, titled
No Great Mischief
. It isn’t about Wolfe; it’s a novelized history of a family of Scots who settle in Nova Scotia, beginning in the eighteenth century and carrying on through the decades, but it is from Wolfe’s letter that the book takes its title, and he’s mentioned.)
Wolfe’s policy with regard to the
habitant
villages surrounding the Citadel (looting, burning, general terrorizing of the populace) is a matter of record. It wasn’t (and isn’t) an unusual thing for an invading army to do.
General Wolfe’s dying words are also a matter of historical record, but like Lord John, I take leave to doubt that that’s really what he said. He
is
reported by several sources to have recited Gray’s “Elegy written in a Country Churchyard” in the boat on the way to battle—and I think that’s a sufficiently odd thing to have done, that the reports are probably true.
As for Simon Fraser, he’s widely reported to have been the British officer who fooled the French lookouts by calling out to them in French as the boats went by in the darkness—and he undoubtedly spoke excellent French, having campaigned in France years before. As for the details of exactly what he said—accounts vary, and that’s not really an important detail, so I rolled my own.
Now, speaking of French … Brigadier Fraser spoke excellent French. I don’t. I can read that language, but I can’t speak or write it, possess absolutely no grammar, and have a really low tolerance for diacritical marks. So for the purposes of this story I did as I always do in such cases; I solicit the opinions of several native speakers of French for those bits of dialogue that occur in that language. What you see in this story is due to the assistance of these kind and helpful speakers. I fully expect—because it happens every time I include French in a story—to receive indignant email from assorted French speakers denouncing the French dialogue. If the French was provided to me by a Parisian, someone from Montreal will tell me
that’s
not right; if the original source was
Quebecois
, outraged screams emanate from the mother country. And if it came from a textbook or
(quelle horreur)
an academic source … well,
bonne chance
with that. There’s also the consideration that it’s very difficult to spot typographical errors in a language you can’t speak. But we do our best. My apologies for anything egregious.
Now, you may notice that John Hunter is referred to in various places either as “Mr. Hunter,” or as “Dr. Hunter.” By long-standing tradition, English surgeons are (and were) addressed as “Mr.” rather than “Dr.”—presumably a nod to their origins as barbers with a sanguinary sideline. However, John Hunter, with his brother William, was also a formally trained physician, as well as an eminent scientist and anatomist—hence entitled also to the honorific “Dr.”
The Outlander series includes three kinds of stories:
The Big, Enormous Books that have no discernible genre (or all of them);
the Shorter, Less Indescribable Novels that are more or less historical mysteries (though dealing also with battles, eels, and mildly deviant sexual practices);
and the Bulges—these being short(er) pieces that fit somewhere inside the story lines of the novels, much in the nature of squirming prey swallowed by a large snake. These deal frequently—but not exclusively—with secondary characters, are prequels or sequels, and/or fill some lacuna left in the original story lines.
Now. Most of the shorter novels (so far) fit within a large lacuna left in the middle of
Voyager
, in the years between 1757 and 1761. Some of the Bulges also fall in this period; others don’t.
So, for the reader’s convenience, here is a detailed Chronology, showing the sequence of the various elements in terms of the storyline.
However, it should be noted that the shorter novels and novellas are all designed suchly that they may be read alone
, without reference either to each other or to the Big, Enormous Books—should you be in the mood for a light literary snack instead of the nine-course meal with wine-pairings and dessert trolley.
OUTLANDER (novel)—If you’ve never read any of the series, I’d suggest starting here. If you’re unsure about it, open the book anywhere and read three pages; if you can put it down again, I’ll give you a dollar. (1946/1743)
DRAGONFLY IN AMBER (novel)—It doesn’t start where you think it’s going to. And it doesn’t end how you think it’s going to, either. Just keep reading; it’ll be fine. (1968/1744-46)
VOYAGER (novel)—This won an award from
EW
magazine for “Best Opening Line.” (To save you having to find a copy just to read the opening, it was: “He was dead. However, his nose throbbed painfully, which he thought odd, in the circumstances.”) If you’re reading the series in order, rather than piecemeal, you do want to read this book before tackling the novellas. (1968/1766-67)
LORD JOHN AND THE HAND OF DEVILS/“Lord John and the Hellfire Club” (novella)—Just to add an extra layer of confusion,
The Hand of Devils
is a
collection that includes three novellas. The first one, “Lord John and the Hellfire Club,” is set in London in 1757, and deals with a red-haired man who approaches Lord John Grey with an urgent plea for help, just before dying in front of him. [Originally published in the anthology
Past Poisons
, ed. Maxim Jakubowski, 1998.]
LORD JOHN AND THE PRIVATE MATTER (novel)—Set in London, in 1758, this is a historical mystery steeped in blood and even less-savory substances, in which Lord John meets (in short order) a valet, a traitor, an apothecary with a sure cure for syphilis, a bumptious German, and an unscrupulous merchant prince.
LORD JOHN AND THE HAND OF DEVILS/“Lord John and the Succubus” (novella)—The second novella in the
Hand of Devils
collection finds Lord John in Germany in 1758, having unsettling dreams about Jamie Fraser, unsettling encounters with Saxon princesses, night-hags, and a really disturbing encounter with a big, blond Hanoverian graf. [Originally published in the anthology
Legends II
, ed. Robert Silverberg, 2004.]
LORD JOHN AND THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE BLADE (novel)—The second full-length novel focused on Lord John (but it does include Jamie Fraser) is set in 1759, deals with a twenty-year-old family scandal, and sees Lord John engaged at close range with exploding cannon and even more dangerously explosive emotions.
LORD JOHN AND THE HAND OF DEVILS/“Lord John and the Haunted Soldier” (novella)—The third novella in this collection is set in 1759, in London and the Woolwich Arsenal. In which, Lord John faces a court of inquiry into the explosion of a cannon, and learns that there are more dangerous things in the world than gunpowder.
“The Custom of the Army” (novella)—Set in 1759. In which his lordship attends an electric-eel party in London and ends up at the Battle of Quebec. He’s just the sort of person things like that happen to. [Originally published in
Warriors
, eds. George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, 2010.]
THE SCOTTISH PRISONER (novel)—This one’s set in 1760, in the Lake District, London, and Ireland. A sort of hybrid novel, it’s divided evenly between Jamie Fraser and Lord John Grey, who are recounting their different perspectives in a tale of politics, corruption, murder, opium dreams, horses, and illegitimate sons.
“Plague of Zombies” (novella)—Set in 1761, in Jamaica, when Lord John is sent in command of a battalion to put down a slave rebellion and discovers a hitherto unsuspected affinity for snakes, cockroaches, and zombies. [Originally published in
Down These Strange Streets
, eds. George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois, 2011.]
DRUMS OF AUTUMN (novel)—This one begins in 1766, in the New World, where Jamie and Claire find a foothold in the mountains of North Carolina, and their daughter, Brianna, finds a whole lot of things she didn’t expect, when a sinister newspaper clipping sends her in search of her parents. (1968-1969/1766-67)
THE FIERY CROSS (novel)—The historical background to this one is the War of the Regulation in North Carolina (1767-1768), which was more or less a dress rehearsal for the oncoming Revolution. In which Jamie Fraser becomes a reluctant Rebel, his wife, Claire, becomes a conjure-woman, and their grandson Jeremiah gets drunk on cherry bounce. Something Much Worse happens to Brianna’s husband, Roger, but I’m not telling you what. This won several awards for “Best Last Line,” but I’m not telling you that, either. (Mid-1760s)
A BREATH OF SNOW AND ASHES (novel)—Winner of the 2006 Corine International Prize for Fiction, and a Quill Award (this book beat novels by both George R. R. Martin
and
Stephen King, which I thought Very Entertaining Indeed). All the books have an internal “shape” that I see while I’m writing them. This one looks like the Hokusai print titled “The Great Wave Off Kanagawa.” Think
tsunami—
two of them. (Early to mid-1770s/1970-71)
AN ECHO IN THE BONE (novel)—Set in America, London, Canada, and Scotland. The book’s cover image reflects the internal shape of the novel: a caltrop. That’s an ancient military weapon that looks like a child’s jack with sharp points; the Romans used them to deter elephants, and the Highway Patrol still uses them to stop fleeing perps in cars. This book has four major story lines: Jamie and Claire; Roger and Brianna (and family); Lord John and William; and Young Ian, all intersecting in the nexus of the American Revolution—and all of them with sharp points. (1777-1778/1972)