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Dorian Lasseter

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Posts posted by Dorian Lasseter

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Admiralty House, Saint Pierre, Martinique

    As the assembly of officers was exiting the Judges office, Dorian came up short.

    “Juge Richet, was you man dispatched to my ship?”

    The Judge’s brow creased slightly and he politely held up a hand, exited the office and called a name. Moments later them man appeared, still holding the parcel given to him when he last tried his luck to be ferried to the Lucy.

    At first Captain Lasseter was not pleased, he had wanted his dispatch to reach his ship at the soonest convenience, however with this new bit of information, it would save having to send another dispatch. Still, it was upsetting that there had been no contact between ship and shore.

    “Since your man is still here, would you have your clerk add to my dispatch about this man who has been found and his location, I wish to keep all my officers appraised of the situation.”

    “Oui Capitaine, as you please…”

    “Thank – Merci Juge Richet…”

    Dorian continued out and into the main house, where in the short time of his conversation, Master Flint had gotten word to the men that the hunt would continue presently. The squads would reassemble and continue where they had left off, in hopes that the weather had also prevented the hunted from making a further escape. Lieutenant Martin stood with an interesting and mild look of appreciation on his face as the Master-at-Arms relayed all the information in French as well as English. As the men gathered their weapons, Dorian watched as the Judges’ servant nearly took flight out the front doors, packet in hand, to be delivered to his ship. A smile crept onto his face, glad that the man took his given job so seriously.

    Black Powder Regulations

    in Armory

    Posted

    Agreed...

    Nothing wrong with good info and ideas presented in a nice manner...

    Jim, as for the one grain per calibre rule, unwadded... 90% of the reenactments I've done, this is the deal. makes a good bang every time, 'In my humble opinion'...

    Now, I'll get into more depth with the formula...

    I've always used rolled paper cartridges... Never directly poured from a horn, even with a spring-loaded tip. The closest I've come to that is the priming powder on a great gun out of a horn that held maybe 3 or 4 oz of 4F.

    With the small arms paper cartridge, all powder for the piece comes from said cartridge, prime and main charge.

    Example;

    I have a .75 Cal Brown Bess Musket for F&I reenactment.

    I make up my cartridges with 90 to 100 grains of 2F.

    So, I first prime the pan from said cartridge, using ~15 to ~25 grains of powder, and the rest goes down the barrel as the main charge.

    I've never had any issues with this method. Only after around 20 rounds have I had any misfires - and that's been cleared up by wiping off the frizzen and flint on most occasions.

    Now I will agree it doesn't look as good when no use of the ramrod occurs (unwadded firing), but there have been events that we were not allowed to take a ramrod onto the field. Yes, we were to leave our ramrods in camp, because of an accident at some time in the past where a ramrod had been fired out of a musket!

    I know for a fact it happened during the making of Last of the Mohicans, not something I want happening to me or my friends.

    Black Powder Regulations

    in Armory

    Posted

    As for item #4, I would rather keep a loaded misfire on the line rather than let it wander off unsupervised. The participant can still wave it about (pointed up naturally) and yell insults at the English Pyrate-hunting rabble we were shooting "at" while still being under supervision. Keeping all misfires at one end of the line (the far end, away from the crowd) helps to keep them from getting away at the end of shooting.

    Not a bad thought... however, I've witnessed a hangfire that took 30 seconds or so to go off. Just a thought, but having a bucket, much like a gun bucket for the great guns, full of water at the line. If the small arm misfires the allotted two times and is not wadded, pour the powder into the bucket of water, thus neutralizing the powder. I've even seen a fellow be extra safe (if there is such a thing), he had a wadded small arm and had several misfires, so he took his water flask and poured some water in the pan/touchhole. No worries there, just a good cleanup needed after. Maybe have a ladle in said gun bucket...

    As to black powder grades, I would recommend 2F in rifles/muskets and 3F in pistols and 'busses and 4F only to prime. Of course cannon grade for cannon. As to loads, I have seen great lattitude used in charges. I use 75 gr. 3F in my .69 cal pistol which, when wadded, gives a decent bang. I suppose some standardization/max loads relative to caliber and model should be written into the rules as well. Anyone got a provenanced list of standardized loads, either from a powder company or gun manufacturer?

    As a rule in all the groups I've been involved with, it goes 'one grain per calibre', thus .69 cal gets 69 grains of powder, .75 cal gets 75 grains, etc...

    And 3F for arms below .60 cal, 2F for .60 cal up to 1.25, and cannon grade for anything above. 4F for priming ONLY.

    Just my tupence...

    This is from doing ECW, F&I and Pennsic War Field Artillery

    Black Powder Regulations

    in Armory

    Posted

    I'll agree with Jim... but the formality of the document is a good thing...

    Also, many reenactors who do artillery use two phrases to give notice of a gun going off...

    First; "Have a care!"

    Second; "Give Fire!"

    Just that little extra warning...

    Brown bess flintlock

    in Armory

    Posted

    Very nice images, and I will agree with John and Bo.

    I also have one, slightly modified to backdate it.

    Brass tipped wooden ramrod, thinned out the stock at the muzzle, added a belt hook.

    Mine suffers from a weak mainspring. I had a gunsmith take a look and was told it couldn't be repaired.

    Not sure I believe that.

    But something else to be aware of.

    Nice find!

    Brown bess flintlock

    in Armory

    Posted

    Ahoy all,

    At last I happen to unearth a firing flintlock pistol totally by accident. I was hunting around on local for sale places and I found a miroku replica flintlock pistol. It’s a brown bess in mint (and I mean MINT) condition. This is a working gun that has never been fired and still has the box, now here is my question(s); Is this a gun I want to carry around and fire or is this a gun that I need to place over the mantle and continue to use my none firing replica? The box looks to be about 10-20 years old and I can’t find anything regarding the Miroku firearms mfg. co. I don’t want to play with this gun if its worth some money so, can some one smarter than me (and that’s about everyone) tell me a little about this gun?

    Any info would be greatly welcomed.

    Clear skies and smooth seas,

    Capt James Antillis Rhedd

    The Devil's Chariot

    NY Harbor

    I thank you all in advance.

    Ahoy Lad,

    Well, tis hard to say wot ya got there... words alone are good, but if you have the ability, images work wonders.

    Images of both sides, fron the top and bottom, down the barrel and from the butt. Show all makers marks, etc. even the box it came in and we'll be able ta make some sort o' judgement call.

    Fair winds n' followin' seas to ya,

    Slainte,

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    The Admiralty House, Saint Pierre, Martinique

    Dawn came slowly to Martinique on the 5th of August, 1704. The storm had abated to a mist and the clouds shut out the sun for a couple hours past when dawn normally would have come. Captain Lasseter had finally taken advantage of the room offered and was asleep in his shirt when a knock was sharply laid on his door. He woke with a start, but recovered quickly in the unfamiliar surroundings. Dorian removed himself from his bed and was searching for his clothes when the knock came again.

    “A moment… er… Un moment, si vous plait…”

    Unable to find his clothes where he laid them, instead he found a banyan in their place. Wrapping himself in it he headed to the door and opened it. There stood a servant, his clothes neatly dried and folded.

    “Capitaine Lasseter, compliments du juge. Le déjeuner attend dès que vous pourrez.”

    “Merci… Merci beaucoup…”

    Dorian took the clothes from the servant who bowed and turned away down the hall. The door shut firmly, Dorian headed deeper into the room and laid out his clothes on the bed. He dressed quickly and once all his accoutrements and weapons were in place left the room and headed down to the main dining hall where The Judge, Lieutenant Martin, his Sergeant, and Mister Flint were already seated, about to enjoy the breakfast laid out. A twinge of embarrassment washed over the Captain, being the last to come to the table.

    “Good morning Capitaine. My apologies, it took longer for your clothes than I had expected. Please sit.”

    “Thank you Juge Richet. You are too kind, too kind by far.”

    The Judge bowed his head and raised his glass as the Captain sat and was served by two servants. All ate with an appetite fitting the last evening’s happenings. Near the end of the meal a servant approached the Judge and whispered into his ear. Quickly he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood.

    “We have word of an injured man on the edge of the town. A foreigner it is told. Come.”

    Every man seated followed the Judge, wiped away any evidence of the meal and stood, exiting the hall behind him into the hallway and to the Judges office. The hallway and parlour were still awash with marines, also enjoying a lesser, yet hardy morning meal. In the Judges office sat a man, hat in hand still damp from the rain. Dorian looked out the windows at the dreary light and noted that the rains had turned to a light misting. As the office filled with men, the door was shut behind them. Judge Richet smiled at the man and began asking him questions politely, to which the man answered politely. The man seated was a Philippe Pétain, assistant of Doctor Jean-Bernard Dubernard. A Monsieur Lagueux Michaud had found a badly beaten and torn man in the road last evening before the storm. The man was in very poor shape, but would recover in time. Captain Lasseter looked at the assembled men.

    “We must be off to see this man within the hour and hope to be able to identify who it might be.”

    Nods were given and Monsieur Petain thanked, he would lead them back to the Establishment of the Doctor when they were ready.

    Three Bells of the Forenoon Watch

    Starboard Watch on Duty

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Those men off duty in the berth space were making merry of the situation as best they could. With hatches battened down above, even a whisper seemed loud. Stories were told and songs, thought merry, were sung at a low volume. At one point a fine shanty was being sung when slowly from the after section it died from the lips of men. John Black had been leading them and wondered why the men had stopped singing until a man loomed into the light. There stood Captain William Brand in nothing more than shirtsleeves. He nodded to the men and quietly spoke.

    “Pray continue, I am but a guest on your ship this night. Where might a free hammock be had?”

    An awkward silence followed until one of the powder monkeys cheerful voices, young Mister Rowan, announced loudly that there was one to be had larboard of the galley stove. William made his way to the offered hammock and rolled into it not without almost upsetting it and himself. There he settled and was still. After several glances about, John Black started up the shanty again. After he sang solo for two bars, others joined in, but none as jovial as earlier.

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Belowdecks aboard the Lucy

    After being dismissed from the Ward Room, the Coxswain headed to his quarters while being pitched to and fro with the ships movement. A slight bit of worry was on his face as he entered his darkened space. Fumbling a bit, he found the shaded lanthorn and took it back out into the common spaces and lit the candle within off of another. Taking it back into his quarters he hung it on its hook in the overhead. With care he knelt and opened up the box that served as a home to Ash and Cole, his pet rats. Beady eyes stared up at him as he lowered a hand into the box. Both were slightly skitterish, considering the movement of the ship, but calmed quickly as they scented their master. Nigel took each one out and held them both up to the light.

    “Is you two a’right? Storm’s a bit rough, aye? Not to worry boys, not to worry.”

    He placed them on his sea chest and dug into a pocket, withdrawing a kerchief. In it was wraped some food scraps. A bit of a biscuit, cheese and a quarter of a potato. He broke apart the biscuit and gave a piece to each rat. They sat on their haunches and nibbled away. When finished they both looked to Nigel for more. He spent the next couple of minutes feeding and talking in a soothing manner to his pets, all the while the ship tossed in the sea.

    Tsunami Kate

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Aye,

    No kidney stone is fun to pass, but I've had worse. My first was when I was 20, that had to be removed and was in the centimeter size range (!?!)

    I've passed about six on my own now, but haven't had any for 13 or 14 year until now. I must be doing something right. Or not.

    My sympathies to any and all 'Kidney stoners'.

    Slainte!

    The Watch Dog

    in Fiction

    Posted

    Nigel had done as ordered and gathered the officers of the Lucy to convene in the Wardroom with Master Wittingford and Captain Brand and Miss Smith of the Watch Dog. Due to the size of the ward room, Nigel had only gathered the officers and not their mates, thus, Misters Tucker, Wenge, Johnson and Brocke followed Mister Brisbane to the ward room. He knocked and they entered, all barely squeezing into the space. The air soon became stifling and muggy as they waited for the Master to speak.

    Garb on the lake/ocean?

    in Scuttlebutt

    Posted

    Several years back I was at Fort Niagara on the Lake Ontario.

    It was for the reenactment of the Battle of said fort, and at the time I was portraying a half-breed. Some friends (not reenactors) who wanted to go to the falls, so we went, I in my kit, painted up, etc. The Falls aren't that far from the fort, yet no one there knew of the reenactment. I got plenty of questions and looks. We all had a grand time.

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