Jollification of Fort Clinch & Goodbye Lie Excerpt

welcome to Fort Clinch

Fort Clinch, here on Amelia Island, invited the public to their annual Jollification.  What is this you ask?  It is just as it sounds.  A joyous celebration of Christmas inside the fort. My husband, Bruce, and I were lucky enough to help serve hot chocolate and cookies to all the visitors. There seemed to be more guests this year.  Perhaps the full moon, mild weather and clear skies enticed so many to come out.

 

Some years ago, we attended a reenactors' Christmas ball as spectators. The Fort Clinch ball was the background for a scene in my historical novel, The Goodbye Lie.  Here is an excerpt from that scene.  As you look at the photos, you might better imagine the story.



And so The Goodbye Lie goes like this:   
  
      Pulling onto the long path to the fort, they followed the lamps from preceding conveyances through the dark. Nearing their destination, they found the traffic had slowed to creeping as ladies and gentlemen alighted from their transports. 
     Single candles in each brick framed window glittered star-like against the thick, wavy glass. A huge bonfire sent sparks up into the night, swirling wild from the bitter wind off the ocean, until they burned themselves out. Even the shelter of the fortifications did little to alleviate the piercing cold.

 a tin whistle is played & Christmas carols sung as a bonfire warms

     Music was heard, softly, then loudly again at each opening of the door to the second floor common room where the dance was being held. Once inside, Breelan took it all in. The entire length of the banister of the straight wooden staircase was swagged with a pine needle garland and the garland was draped with a red and green paper chain that had been her particular contribution. The smells of gingerbread and apple cider wafted down as they climbed up into the excitement. Add the fires burning in the fireplaces at both ends of the room, their logs strewn with cinnamon sticks and dried orange peel, and Breelan was carried back to earlier, happier Christmases.

note the full moon

     Eager eyes were fixed on the entrance to see who arrived with whom and in what fashionable garb. As Trip removed her black velvet cape with burgundy satin lining, Breelan's friends found her. Tonight, she wore the prettiest dress she'd ever possessed. Her mother and grandmother had created an entire gown of horizontally sewn rows of ivory lace. The drop shoulders were edged with four-inch white fringe, which allowed her upper arms to peek out. Pink and gold silk rosebuds intertwined in a vine of ivy leaves to diagonally cross the bodice. More rosebuds sat atop pale bows scattered over the drape covering an underskirt of ecru satin. An oval coral brooch outlined with tiny seed pearls and pinned to her mother's string of pearls, was positioned at the base of her throat, her earbobs matching. White gloves only long enough to cover her forearms, an amethyst ring on her right hand overtop the glove, and a tussie mussie of small pink poinsettias in a lace cone completed the picture of loveliness that she was. The women touched her gown, admiring its grandeur and the beauty of the woman who wore it.

     Trip enjoyed the envy in every man's eyes as he proclaimed Breelan his possession by staying nearby and playing with her sleeve trim or touching the back of her neck. She wanted to swat him away like some bothersome fly.

     ... The glowing fireplaces kept most of the cold at bay. They blazed high, casting a golden haze on everyone and everything. Passing the door in dance, Breelan felt a rush of raw wind enter the room, along with a late arriving couple. The cape the man wore was not military. She saw the woman next. The blonde hair, piled a little too high on the head, left no doubt that it was Leona Visper, a figure not seen since New York City and more importantly, not missed. Looking again at the silhouette of shoulders, Breelan realized the identity of the singer's escort. It was then that eyes met, expressions hardened and polite nods were exchanged. 

decorated mantle

decorated table

 





                                              

                                         good evening



Bruce, Mr. and Mrs. Father Christmas and Jane Marie

PS - I have to mention how very dim it was inside the candlelit rooms of the fort.  My flash on my camera phone changed the look to bright and cheery. Yes, everything has a golden cast because of the fireplaces and lanterns and candles, but it was very hard to see to read or do any needlework as several ladies in period costume were.  One woman said she had to quit sewing because her eyes were giving out. I never realized before I'd done my research how dark a home would be once the sun went down.  I guess that's why they have candlelight tours of places.  We find it fetching and cozy and intriguing, but only for a special occasion.  Once we've lived with bright electric lights, I expect there would be many a whine heard if we returned to that dark part of times past.  We are spoiled.

Oh, and one more thing.  Candle light changes colors.  Last year I commented upon the pretty purple pattern in the dress worn by a reenactor.  She told me it was green in the light of day!