Dorian Lasseter

That's what I wondered... the africans were better suited to the climate and I assume were "cheaper by the dozen" than W.I.S. I'd still love to know the true statistics just for the benefit of knowledge. Thank you, keep up the good work!

Haven't come across anything yet, primarily because we have been concentrating on the North American colonies... but will start looking... Also, Capt. Lasseter, have spoken to the folks at Jamestown... gave me some splendid references regarding the Native Americans. They do have evidence of them making a point of coming in to trade at port towns during the GAoP time frame, especially Williamsburg's market times. They were actually very excited about having the NAs portrayed as doing such... Excellent! I love it when you find the right folks with the info you want/need!

The Ward Room of the Heron Dorian had opened the Ward Room door and entered, seeing that Miss Ashcombe sat waiting he closed the door easily behind him. “Well, th’ marines ‘r gone fer now… Nothin’ more fer th’ leftenant ta poke about…” He saw her visibly relax and smiled at her. Taking his hat off and placing it on the table he removed his cutlass and shrugged off his coat, placing it back on the hook. Lastly he removed his pistol once again and set it on the table as well. Walking to the stern windows he stopped and looked out, then spoke again without looking at her. “I’m glad we did not have to entertain th’ officer for long. I still need to be sure ye don’t have anything ta hide, anything that might cause further issues.” Seeing her out of the corner of his eye, some of her nervousness returned. He waited to see if she might offer up something on her own, but nothing came. “ Tomorrow mornin’ I hope ta warp inta th’ common wharf. I ‘ave something ta do concernin’ this ship an’ we may be there fer some time. There be a couple things that will be done, a refit of sorts… I’ll be headed ashore soon enough this night ta finish up some business.” Again he waited to see if anything might be divulged. He very much was enjoying the view at the moment, however he could wait for only a short time longer as the daylight was soon to be done. Still she was silent, so he stepped over to the cabinet and opened the top drawer, took out a small box and headed to the table where he withdrew the items needed to make fire. Within moments he had a small flame and lit his oil lamp on the table, sending its soft glow outwards. Putting the tinderbox away he again returned to the stern windows and waited.

Aboard the Heron As the men were stationed at general quarters and the officers stood on deck along with the French marines left by the Lieutenant, eyes occasionally wandered over to what was happening over at the Watch Dog. From what Dorian saw, Turcotte was not allowed to board and all communication was done over the side to him. Soon enough the boat of marines headed back across the expanse. As the boat neared the Heron, Lieutenant Turcotte hollered across to his marines to return to their boat and follow his to the fort. The sergeant ushered his men over the side and gave a knowing look to Captain Lasseter, who in turn touched his hat and wished him well. “Bonne chance, sergent.” He looked up at Dorian and quietly responded “Merci, Capitaine” before dropping into the boat and the men therein pushed off. Dorian watched them go until they were half a cables length off before he headed below, again giving the deck over to the Bo’sun, and giving the order to stand down from general quarters.

Aboard the Heron The question was not unexpected, yet Dorian took it as if it was. “I do believe it was… but as a point of fact I cannot be assured myself as so many boats were here at the time. It could have been a hired boat, or even the small boat from the Watch Dog….” The slight smile returned to Turcotte’s face. “Then I shall have to inspect the boats of the Watch Dog as well… “ “Aye… than you shall have to secure permission to do so, for I cannot grant it…” “Capitaine Lasseter… My papers if you please…” Dorian had the papers in hand, behind his back, which he produced quickly, handing them back to the officer with a short bow. The Lieutenant bowed back and turned to the sergeant and told him in French for him and his men to stay aboard until his return. Turcotte headed over the side and into the second boat, ordering those marines to make way to the Frigate beyond. Sergeant Charron watched the Lieutenant go and turned to Captain Lasseter. Not knowing much English he tried his best to convey why he and his men were still there. “Monsieur Capitaine… Lieutenant… ‘e tell, to remain…” Dorian smiled and held up his hand. “Merci sergent, je comprennent.” The Sergeant looked shocked for a moment as the Captain spoke to him in reasonable French. Then he chuckled a moment briefly shaking his head. He made a comment to the other marines with him and they all seemed to relax a touch while waiting for their officer to return. Dorian took a moment to excuse himself to the quarterdeck where he retrieved his cutlass, left there earlier. Returning to the waist he stood again easily with his hands behind his back, watching both the marines on his ship and those crossing to the Watch Dog. Just before Eight Bells of the Afternoon Watch

This has been very informative, especially this last bit from Capt. Bo... One thing though... All the info so far talks about the W.I.S. in the upper colonies... Va, etc... What about in the Caribbean? I could assume it's all the same, but... Just wondering where there might be statements of such from the Carib.

Aboard the Heron With the Lieutenant aboard and pleasantries exchanged, there came a pause in the conversation. Dorian clasped his hands behind his back and smiled politely. Finally, He could not remain quiet. “So, Leftenant… Wot can’ I do fer you?” Turcotte slightly narrowed his eyes before speaking. “I ave returned to find what appened ere… Who was shot? There was blood in your ships’ boat.” Dorian furrowed his brow and looked at his Bo’sun “Someone was shot? Shot at, mayhaps, and the shooter himself, as you know was shot by my men and those of the Watch Dog and possibly another ship. And there wasn’t any blood in my ships’ boat. See for your self.” With that Captain Lasseter headed over to the side and called out to the Guardboat, having them bring it to the side of the Heron to allow its inspection. Turcotte himself climbed down into it and looked, even getting on his knees and sticking fingernails into cracks trying to find any blood, assuming it had been wiped away. He stood and straightened his uniform, shooting a venomous look at the Marine who said there had been blood on the boat before he made his way back aboard the ship. “I…. see… there is no blood, or evidence there was…. My…apologies…” “Oh, think nothin’ of it Leftenant… Is there more you’d like ta see?” Turcotte stood and thought for some time, all the while Dorian stood with a neutral expression, waiting.

Ward Room of the Heron A slow smile spread on Dorian’s face as Miss Ashcombe agreed to play along with the ruse necessary. He stepped closer and gently began unwrapping the bandage around her head. Getting down to the end, the wound had stopped bleeding and would remain hidden under her hair. However, she needed a head covering of some sort. As he was thinking on this, a knock came and Luc passed word that the Lieutenant was just off the side. He also asked permission to stay aboard. “Thank you, Luc… Tell Mister Tucker to not let him aboard until I am ready. I’ll be up soon enough. As for you stayin’ aboard… For th’ present you ‘ave no choice… As fer later, I’ll discuss it wi’ Cap’n Brand, if yer meanin’ ta crew on th’ Heron.” Luc saluted and was gone to report to the Bo’sun. Dorian turned his attention back to the quandary of what head covering was to be had for Miss Ashcombe. She was presently dressed as a sailor, however she was to be indoors. They would just have to do without. “As you’ve heard, th’ Frogs, er French officer n’ marines ‘r back… Tidy up in ‘ere and stow yer things… in th’ stern bench, there… Be at ease on th’ bench. If, or when we come in, act as, well, my servant… Offer a drink, there be some good French wine in th’ cabinet an’ goblets. Just be calm, we’ll make it through this easy enough.” He winked with a grin, took up his fine coat and hat, sling the empty scabbard across his shoulder and placed his pistol in his belt and went out the door, making sure it was secured properly as he left. As he came on deck, Mister Tucker was leaning over the rail, having words with Lieutenant Turcotte as he bobbed in his boat over the side. 2 August, 1704, Saturday Seven bells of the Afternoon Watch

The Ward Room of the Heron As Dorian opened the door to the Ward Room, he saw Miss Ashcombe kneeling on the deck. He hesitated not knowing what she was doing and then thought maybe she was unwell. He quickly made his way to her and was about to lay hands one her and help her back into the cot. As he knelt he saw she was opening her parcel. She turned to him at that moment and took in a shocked breath, being so close. “I beg yer pardon Miss… I thought ye were in a faint or some such…” He slowly stood and held out a hand to her. “Please, let me help you up… “ She took his hand and rose, sitting back on the cot. “Thank you, captain. I was just seeing to my things.” He nodded and smiled, moving to his desk table. He cleared away the papers and put them in the drawer. Moving the glass and bottle to the top of the cabinet they came from, he offered up the table to her. “Please, use th’ table, not th’ floor fer such. I would ask ye be quick as th’ Leftenant is on approach. No doubt with papers or a superior with a wish to board us. I… to make things easier for you… and to explain you in here… I’ll be calling you my Steward… for appearance sake… I’m hopin’ yer wound will permit th’ removal o’ th’ bandage for a time…” He waited for her response, waiting patiently, yet knowing the boat full of marines would be upon them soon.

Aboard the Heron After having the Bo’sun assign some men to a guardboat, the Captain was going to head back to the Ward Room to continue finding out what all Miss Ashcombe might know of the recent events. He was about to head below when a thought occurred to him. That ‘damned lieutenant’ would be back and Dorian was sure it would be soon. He was sure even if he didn’t have papers to board the Heron, he would find a reason or way to come aboard. Instead of going back to the Ward Room, he headed around the ship and scrutinized everything, every man. He last found himself in the small galley where Miss Moore was having a time chopping, no, hacking up a haunch of beef. It looked like with every swing of the cleaver she expected a return blow from an adversary. It would almost be comical, if he hadn’t realized that she was preparing the next meal for the crew and himself. William had sent over a Mister Marsh, the former cook of the Heron, who as soon as time permitted would be the cook once again, along with another man William had mentioned. He was going to interrupt her from her work, but decided against it and made his way up onto deck again. Again he made his way aft to the Ward Room, only to have the lookout hail that a boat was on approach from the fort. The Lieutenant was returning, sooner than Dorian expected. But most everything was ready. He only had to decide how to address Miss Ashcombe.

Fort Royal The Young Lieutenant had been to his superiors and after some not so delicate conversation, got his papers to board and search the Heron. He marched at a quick pace with a wiry grin of victory and as he passed his men whom he had left standing on the parade ground he signaled them to follow. Back down to the wharf and into the boats. The body of the man who’s initials were H P had been put into their barracks with his belongings and all but forgotten. The marines aboard and the Lieutenant in the bow, he ordered them out onto the bay, “to board and search that ship”. Many of his men held back a groan because they felt they knew as much as they would already. This ‘search and seizure’ mission was just to satisfy the Lieutenants’ ego. But orders were orders and they bent to the sweeps and away they went. Aboard the Heron Robert Johnson was up on the lookout perch and was spending more time looking at the fort than at the surrounding bay. He watched the Jollywatt being rowed around the Heron and did not pity the crew aboard. Styles and Roche sat with muskets upright while John Black sat at the tiller and the two new men rowed. Motion at the wharf caught his eye and using the glass to be sure he saw the marines from the fort returning. There in the bow as proud as a peacock stood the lieutenant. Johnson called down to the deck that a boat was on approach. He also heard voices on the Watch Dog, probably voicing the same.

Dorian now understood a bit more of why Miss Ashcombe was here and how she was able to come to be aboard the Heron. Reaching over he picked up the glass and bottle, poured another dram and handed it to her. As she drank he thought about what she had just said, the two men come aboard with her had looked battered, but he had guessed it was from the confines of the prison. They were not on his roster given earlier, and those men had yet to be delivered. He slowly stood and excused himself, heading up on deck. There he conversed with Mister Tucker, who, in the excitement had forgotten to hand over two pieces of parchment, both from Mister Franklin. The Captain returned to the Wardroom soon after and headed to the stern windows where he opened the parchments. The first was the authorization by which Miss Ashcombe was given liberty to leave the Watch Dog and board the Heron, the second was the reason why the two men were sent to the Heron. He held up the parchments to the young woman. “If I had been given these a wee bit earlier… no matter… Now that yer here I’ll keep ya safe until both th’ merchants leave th’ ‘Dog and th’ Leftenant an’ his men leave th’ Heron. I must take care of some, discipline… and I’ll ‘ave more questions when I return.” Again the Captain took his leave from the Wardroom and headed on deck. He walked forward and found the two new men. “Misters Coles n’ Leigh…” “Aye captain, I’m Leigh, he’s Coles.” “Right… so, ya like a bit o’ fightin’ do ya? Mister Tucker! Once things calm down I have some work fer these two men.” “Aye Cap’n, Sah!” Without another word Dorian turned away from the men and headed aft, the Bo’sun in tow. “Lucky Tuck… those two shall have constant duty on the sweeps o’ the Heron’s jollywatt… I’m hopin’ they weren’t th’ target o’ that assassin, but I’ll be setting a guardboat detail, five men, those two ta row, one ta steer and two as sharpshooters, understood?” “Aye cap’n.” With that business taken care of, the Captain headed aft. Stopping abruptly before the door, he turned back to Mister Tucker. “Better yet, I’ll not wait… Put ‘em in th’ boat now, pick th’ others and send ‘em out wi’ four muskets and a dozen shot n’ powder each.” Lucky Tuck grinned as he went off to follow orders.

Captain Lasseter studied Miss Ashcombe a moment after she thanked him. He nodded slowly. “Yer quite welcome… looks like you were either hit wi’ a sweep, or musket… Shouldn’t take too long ta heal then.” Again he unhooked his pistol from his belt and lay it on the table. Running his fingers through his hair as he walked the length of the room, he looked out the stern windows across the bay and wondered how soon the Lieutenant would return. He saw some gathering of men at the wharf, a glint of sunlight off something shiny amongst them. Turning back to the young woman he smiled as it seemed she watched his every move. He walked back to where she sat and pulled his chair over and sat as well. “Miss Ashcombe, I need some questions answered as ye may well know… Ya say Miss McDonough was escortin’ ye… Yet she ain’t here… and, she does not have the authority ta be sendin’ people off one ship an’ on to another, on’y the officer o’ th’ deck does. I know ya don’t understand th’ protocols aboard ships, but…” He was unsure how to proceed, and left his unfinished sentence hang there, hoping she might fill in the blanks.

Now, vanilla wafers with peanutbutter... aye, salty/spicy followed by sweet... Still drinkin' Iced Tea...

Homestyle Pretzels (Snyders of Hanover) with spicy brown mustard. Iced tea to wash it down...

Aboard the Heron At William’s swift departure, an annoyed look crossed Dorian’s face. He held up a finger as if to say, ‘Wait here’, and exited as swiftly. He caught up with William just before he reached the waist. “Cap’n Brand, a word…” Dorian had never addressed William in such an abrupt manner. William stopped and faced the Captain of the Heron with a nonplused look on his face. “Leave wot must be done with the Leftenant to me. I have th’ proper documents, and am not worried, even if ‘e brings ‘is superior. Ready th’ ‘Dog fer yer guests, put it out o’ yer mind.” Captain Brand stood a moment and took a slow breath in. He knew Dorian was a capable man, and could handle the situation. He gave a brief smile. “I know you can handle this situation. Just one more thing piled on top of so many others.” He was going to say more, but Dorian put a hand on his shoulder. “William… See ta yer ship and crew… I’ll see ta mine and we’ll dine richer men this evenin’… “ William chuckled and Dorian did as well. He nodded and headed over the side into the Samson, where he was ferried over to the Frigate. Dorian watched him go and waited til he had gained the deck before moving. First he spoke with Mister Tucker, had the Heron’s jollywatt kept at the ready. All the men were still at general quarters, and were to remain that way until further notice as he knew just as William had said that Lieutenant Turcotte would be back and with a vengeance. He walked around the deck and found the new men brought aboard. He addressed each separately and told them to go stow their gear in the galley for the moment. Once they all had done so, one parcel was left on deck. It could only belong to one person, Miss Ashcombe, so Dorian picked it up and took it with him to the Ward Room, informing the Bo’sun to alert him when, not if, but when a boat departed again from the Fort. The Captain entered the Wardroom and shut the door behind him. Miss Ashcombe sat as she was left and looked at him with a calmness on her face. He held fourth the parcel. “I believe this’ yers, Miss?”

Aye... Smokey... smooth, but still retains a bite... Slainte!

Captain Lasseter nodded to Miss Ashcombe as he took back the glass. “Yer welcome, hope it calms you some…” As William took a moment to speak with Luc, Dorian poured another dram of whiskey, slowly drank it and set both vessels on the table. He regarded the young woman sitting there, watched as she touched the bandage about her head and softened his expression, hoping to ease the discomfort she must be feeling. But questions needed to be answered. “Miss Ashcombe… I wish there was more time ta let yer injury calm itself, however, we have questions of you… Firstly, why did ye come over ta th’ Heron? Fer what purpose? “ He almost felt bad asking such direct questions, given her state. He needed to know as much as possible, as quickly as possible, not knowing if they would have another visit by the lieutenant or another officer of the garrison. She looked to be collecting her thoughts and as she did his mind wandered to other things needing to be addressed such as the new recruits in his charge. All Dorian wanted this day was to welcome aboard the new men and go ashore to see how Preston was mending. He feared it would not come to pass until the next day.

Havin' a dram of some 12 year old single malt scotch... Been a long time, my friend...

Ahhhh.... a fine selection... Wonderful food.... And for dessert?

Over the side of the Heron Captains Brand and Lasseter, along with their men, had watched the soldiers row away in silence. Dorian clicked his tongue. “Ya think that’s th’ last we’ll be seein’ o’ him?” William cocked his head and creased his brow. “I think not. I think he’ll be back with either papers, or his superior in person.” All Dorian could do was nod and chuckle. He was about to make another comment when a scream was heard from within the Heron. As a point of fact, It was two feminine screams, not overly loud, but loud enough that everyone in the proximity heard. “Either Miss Ashcombe has come to, or we have deeper problems.” Dorian turned and headed to the ladderway and pulled himself aboard his ship, not wondering if William or any others were in tow. As he crossed the deck aft, Miss Moore came out the door, the Pooka scattering out with her. As Dorian approached, she closed the gap even quicker. “Captain, she’s awake… Frightened and delirious I think. I told her I was getting more water for her wounds, but – “ Dorian cut her off, “Then do so Miss Moore, and quickly… Mister Tucker! You have th’ deck!” Letting the young woman pass, he quickened his pace aft and into the Wardroom. He entered and saw Miss Ashcombe sitting upright on the cot. She was looking better, and looked at him there at the door. Standing a moment longer, Dorian was deciding what to do. He crossed the room slowly, placed his pistol on the table and was about to address her when Miss Moore returned. Nodding to her, she went over and continued administering to Miss Ashcombe. The Captain watched from where he stood a moment longer, then pulled his chair out and sat. It was then that he noticed William had indeed followed him onto the Heron, as he stood in the doorway to the Ward Room. Dorian waved him in and William came over to where sat. The Irishman rose and turned away from where the women were, and quietly addressed his superior. “I have yet ta ascertain how she is, besides awake. Soon as Miss Moore finishes, I hope Miss Ashcombe can answer some questions. This might help…” Dorian stepped a pace over and opened the cabinet, withdrew a bottle and glass.

Hmmm... Tis friday... Fish? Shrimp? Crabs? Lobster?

Dorian had stood and let William do the talking and watched the French marines do what was ordered. The dead man was searched again, not much more was found out. They all stood, bobbing in the small boats and looked at each other, the Heron, the dead man and nothing in particular. Lieutenant Turcotte seemed to be deciding his next action. “Capitaine… Lasseter… who, exactly was shot at?” Dorian looked at the Lieutenant a moment, knowing the man was trying to catch them in a possible lie or cover up. “Leftenant, I know not who the man there was trying to shoot, however, he came close to shooting this man, who will tell you as much.” He pointed to Luc who stood tall and saluted. He spoke in his thick Russian accent. “Luc Otkupschikov, at your service.” Turcotte blinked his eyes as Luc spoke and balled his hands up for a moment before placing them behind his back. “Monsieur… Otkup, Otkupschikov…. Parlez vous Francais?” “Nyet, ah, no ser, I speak English and Russian…” The lieutenant looked agitated even more, but kept his civility. He took his time and again asked what was known of the attack. Luc explained what happened from his point of view, coming across from the Frigate to the Cutter and being the first to head up the side, but was cut sort by the shot. He told of the chaos in the small boat and took a cue from Captain Lasseter and left out the injury caused to the young woman. As a point of fact, he omitted her all together. The Lieutenant nodded as Luc spoke, occasionally with a pinched look on his face as his accent distorted some of his English. When Luc finished with the retrieval of the body the officer bowed his head to the big Russian. “Merci monsieur… Capitaine Lasseter? This is your ship?” “Aye leftenant, it is…” “I wish to board your ship, see for myself.” Dorian looked at William, who in turn looked at the lieutenant and back to Dorian. “Leftenant Turcotte… Yer commander sent ya out ta find out what’s happened here… you have. As fer boardin’ m’ship… Have you a writ affordin’ you th’ privilege?” The French officer narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Then I must decline your request… If you wish to get said papers, I would be delighted ta show you about my fine vessel.” Dorian smiled and bowed to the man, who, even though he had been outdone, bowed back. “Very well monsieurs, ah, capitains… I will report my findings to my superiors, along with this man.” He pointed to the corpse and his men unlashed the boat from those of the Heron and Watch Dog, attaching it to their own. Neither Captains protested as this was done, and soon they were watching as the marines towed the small boat turned funeral barge to the wharf under the shadow of Fort Royal

More pie please....

Dorian only had a moment to wonder why Miss Ashcombe was sent over from the Frigate to his Cutter. Still holding dead man’s musket he saw the boat full of French marines on approach as William muttered an oath. “Aye, let th’ show begin, got nothin’ ta hide here…” Dorian stood in the boat along with William and smiled as the french marines bent their backs pulling towards them. In the bow stood a man, the silver braid on his uniform made him to be a Lieutenant. As the boat closed with them, Captain Lasseter noticed that the lieutenant appeared rather young. The soldiers behind him looked to be much older, twice the officer’s age even. “Th’ Leftenant’s a young pup… Lets hope he’s got nothin’ ta prove.” William just nodded and watched as the boat skimmed up and turned, men grabbing onto the sides of the other boat and the lieutenant touched the edge of his hat. “Je suis Lieutenant Turcotte de la garnison, qui sont vous et vous vous inquiéteriez pour expliquer tout ceci ?”