Wednesday, November 4, 2015

An Amusing Villain to Read About in Designing America (Just Not in the History Books)

Normally I write both week’s Muses and Musings blogposts on Sunday, but it’s now 8:11 in the morning on Wednesday, and I’m just starting today’s.

It’s been one of those weeks.

Not all in bad ways, admittedly. I mean, Sunday’s NaNoWriMo kick-off had me writing 10,000 words in a day. And between Monday and Tuesday, I wrote another 10,000 despite alleged bedbugs and a hectic work day, the combination of which had me sobbing like a 14-year-old on my mother for the first twenty minutes of my drive down to last night’s NaNoWriMo write-in.

Not fun, right?

But what is fun is my one villain. I hate to say that, because this isn’t a villain of my own making. Lieutenant-Colonel Banastre Tarleton was a real person and a real jerk according to American history books. You know The Patriot starring Mel Gibson? The antagonist in it... Colonel William Tavington, who locks civilians in a barn and then burns it down?

That wretched fictional character was based on the wretched real-life character of Tarleton. And while I didn’t come across any actual accounts of him burning anyone to death, what I did read was disturbing enough. Always a brash young man (who, it turns out, got a brief mention in Maiden America, though not by name), he was a skilled cavalryman and commander who didn’t think much of the people he was sent to subdue.

Hence the reason why, after his victory at the Battle of Waxhaws, South Carolina, he ordered his men to go through the list of surrendered American soldiers and bayonet them to death.

As for those men, it can easily be argued they were even worse. Here’s a history-filled excerpt from Designing America’s (and Maiden America’s) heroine Abigail Carpenter’s perspective:

The clear leader of the sizable Calvary reins in his brown horse, leaving the mount champing at the bit to get back to his canter. It’s a magnificent beast with its own mind, I can tell, so it says a lot about its seated master that it only tosses its head and lets out a whinny before quieting down altogether.
I know who that master is before he introduces himself. His immaculate attire speaks volumes by itself, as does the appearance of his men. They are all well-clothed and well-fed. In a group that size, that means they won’t be Americans.
I think the man himself in his mid-twenties, and he is very attractive to look at with his red hair and broad shoulders covered by a green coat with gold trimmings and buttons, and white breeches beneath. His hat is black and billed with a very large black plume atop it, and his boots are black up until his mid-calf and then brown the rest of the way to his knees. Moreover, along with the two buckled belts slung over each shoulder, he is fitted with a saber and a long musket.
His name is Lieutenant-Colonel Banastre Tarleton, and he’s a monster, no matter how pretty and proud he sits there before me. It is his men who have been accused of mutilating and murdering pregnant women. It was also two of his men who were hung back in May on Cornwallis’ orders, not their direct commander’s, on charges of robbery and rape.
I imagine not nearly enough of them swung from the gallows that day.

So again, I’m not proud of myself for smirking over this character. In my defense, he’s been nothing but nice to Abigail, since he’s trying to prove himself a respectable gentleman instead of the monster she very obviously regards him as during their entire first day of acquaintanceship.

That alone wouldn’t make me enjoy him (notice I’m staying far away from the word “like”). It’s the fact that, in trying to stay true to the history books, where even some of his fellow British officers described him as an arrogant little brat, I’ve turned Tarleton into just that… an arrogant little brat, who will roll his eyes in polite company when polite company turns tedious, and make the kind of comments you really want to say to irritating individuals but can’t because you’re too well-mannered.

It’s a bit hard not to snort in amusement over that kind of villain. I dare you not to do the same when I’m done writing Designing America.

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