William Brand

Welcome aboard!

November 19 - On this day in 1620, the Mayflower reached Cape Cod and began exploring the coast. And on this day in 1718… "…the Willing Mind arrived at Green Turtle Key, and took the Goods out of the Neptune, being in a very bad Condition; and after they had taken out all her Cargo, finding the Neptune to be better than they did expect; and, having a fair Wind, brought both Ships up to Providence, the Neptune got in safe, but the Willing Mind struck on the Bar, and sprung a Leak, insomuch that she was forced to unload and careen, and, when down, found her to be very bad, a Piece of her main Keel being gone, so was forced to hawl her ashore; and when the Carpenters had done what could be done to her, she could not be got up again by all the Strength that could be made, and tried for several Days, breaking and tearing all to pieces, but all to no Purpose; so the Governor order'd a Warrant of Survey on her, and was found by the Surveyors not sufficient to proceed any further, being very much damaged in her Wood-Work and Iron-Work, &c. Whereupon the said King desired a second Survey of his Ship and Goods, they lying in a very bad Condition."

HEY! Long time no see! I wish I could have made it out there.

Redundant check in locations across social media... https://www.facebook.com/share/p/Zr6F11jAQNciE3W4/

Welcome aboard!

Welcome aboard! We used to regularly do Fort de Chartres events and hope to again in coming years.

Welcome aboard! We have a number of Mercury crew members out that way.

First Bell of the Forenoon Watch "There can be only one outcome." Jim said, his tone a calm surface over depths. The Captain and Ship's Master had stood apart from everyone a long while. No one had thought to approach them, because there was a grave and solemn way they conversed. Once, Andrew Light had approached on some errand, but seeing something in their eyes he'd dismissed himself with a parting, "It'll keep." William watched Jim's face for something, anything to help him to a course. He didn't want to be what he had been the last time such things had happened. His own temper was getting him into waters he couldn't navigate clear of, and he needed some tempering before Trinidad, but what he saw in Jim was what he expected any mirror might show him. Saltash was a rat in need of drowning. . . . The rest of the crew was employed in so much of mending and hammering and sewing, that few if any of them had the time to discuss why Saltash was forward under guard. Of course they all knew he was there. The 'Dog was a country only 25 meters, stem to stern. The news had passed with the clumsy change in watches. Any sailor that didn't know of such business was too addled to put to sea. The news was passed along with the condition of every other thing aboard ship. No unnecessary explanations. Some gossip had gone about with the news, but it held too much seawater to be drink. So many had been wounded and lost, that any summation about what he' done could be summed up later, and like the work to be done, summed up quickly. Saltash was in chains in the cable tier. Brand had sent him there. The rest was...well...immaterial in the face of widespread work to be done.

Wonderful video. He touches on some citations I've come across in my own research, so it's good to see the same conclusions and interpretations. Thank you!

"Providence". He said without hesitation, adding, "From...du français". He held out an empty cup, accepting warm drink with a nod. He held the cup in both hands a moment, enjoying the heat for heat's sake. Then he brought it up to drink, but paused, with the barest hint of a smile. "And foolishness." He added, sipping once, then affecting a pantomime of his native tongue. "From thee Een-GLAYSSSH." He chuckled then, in spite of himself. It was deep sound from deep places and gone as quickly as it sounded. Somewhere forward something crashed upon the weather decks, but the cheer that followed spoke of accomplishment, not accident.

Durand let her finish, glanced once at Ajayi, who was watching them both, and plucked up a solitary potato while invoking a solitary reply. "Amen."

Great finds! I'm picking up some nice things here and there for the Market Tavern. Everything is coming together really nice at a fraction of the cost.

Aboard the Watch Dog Captain Brand came up again amidships and stood a moment with his eyes squinted and shaded as he adjusted to the light. All the decks of the 'Dog were briming with sailors at work, but for a wounded few. Brand's head tilted a little at some strangeness he couldn't put a finger too. The Coxswain's Mate was limping aft from the foredecks and Brand called to him. "Mister Marchande." "Sah." "The leg?" "eh...amélioré...IMPROVED, Sah." "We've too many not abed." Brand observed, gesturing to many points. "By my calculations we've two watches awake." "Pardon...the men of the Lucy..." "Right." Brand agreed at once, his mind and math catching up. "But so many..." Marchande didn't not know what to add to this and kept his peace while Brand seemed to ponder many things at once. When he realized Marchande was still there he thanked him and dismissed him to his duties. Brand called for Mister Warren, who drifted over with a smile on his face, expecting some added reprimand for his 'long watch'. Instead, Brand launched into the first of many questions, stopping for a long pause when the Bosun summed up the situation as a whole. "30 men. 22 of the Lucy and the 8 Spaniards. Almost all of Lassiter's Starboard Watch." William let a long slow breath and turned Fore and Aft. He nodded and said nothing. He walked in a tight circle and then another, stopping at Jim's left. "He sent them over for safety and...to see..." "...the cargo stowed." They finished together. William paused again. He closed his eyes for long periods of time and Jim waited for the orders which would come all at once. "We've a wounded and weary ship, so we shall take advantage of this boon and divide the load into a third watch of the Lucy's men." Jim nodded. "I'm of the same mind." "Claude Marchande is to take command of this...'Third Watch'." "Aye, Sah." Jim said, gesturing in Marchande's direction. The Coxswain's Mate mate reported as quickly as 'the leg' would allow. "Mister Marchande" Brand continued. "You are to take command of the men of the Lucy as a watch unto themselves. At such a time as Mister Tucker is on his feet, he shall have the command of that watch, but you shall remain with them along with Pascal." "Aye, Sah." "Add to this Misters Dorleac and Fenner. Mister Fenner is hereby promoted to 'Able Seaman'. "Sah." "What other..." William didn't finish this outward thought, but squinted a moment. "Do we have the pleasure of Mister Wayne's Company? And his friend Godfrey?" "Aye, Sah." "They are likewise promoted to 'Able Seaman'. Now go and bring back the names of any men of the Starboard watch capable of some Spanish so I may choose another." "Aye, Sah." Brand and Warren stood awhile after. When enough silence had passed, Jim chanced a compliment. "Excellent arithmetic, Sah." "Thank you, Mister Warren." Seven Bells of the Morning Watch, the Ward Room Seven sharp bells carried well through the windows of the Ward Room. They were open to the air against a warming day. Durand had drunk and eaten in deliberate slowness, closing his eye as he savored the sustenance. When he was two thirds through the broth and half the bread he paused, looking directly at the Captain's Steward. His face was stern and his tone the cold of pure business. "What 'animal'?"

Morning Watch aboard the Watch Dog If Mister Gage was surprised to find three so varied persons in the Ward Room, and no Captain to speak of, he didn't show it. He placed a tray of food before them in short order. He made no mention of the damp Durand. He simply placed a generous bowl of broth and a hunk of bread before him. If he noted the bruises and sheering of the batter Steward, it didn't show as he put a generous portion of meat, beans and young pears on a plate before her. If he found the presence of Ajayi strange in this place, again, he made no show of it at all. He simply proffered healthy portions again. All in all, Lazarus was generous with his silence as he was his portions, for the tray looked almost untouched, even after serving out from it. Lazarus had taken Brand's earlier instruction well in serving out all food that might be spoiled otherwise. The added stores of the Lucy, and the damaged crates and stores of the Dog, were now going outward to an appreciative crew. Lazarus accepted the 'thanks' from them in three different languages, stood a second's pause in deference and then returned to the galley. . . . William had reached all the spaces before the mast, first to find Andrew Light, whom Jim had sent to bed in place of himself. William called him out of the lightest of sleeps and when the man tried to stand out of his hammock William ordered him to as much ease as Andrew allowed himself. Brand leaned low, one hand on the beam above to protect his head and one on the hammock to keep Mister Light from swinging. "I'll have the name of the Bosun's Mate before the Dog Watches." This was all. No more. Andrew blinked and nodded, surprised to have gained Badger's place, but more than this, the Captain's confidence twice in a day. He hadn't thought to choose his own mate, but William was scare three paces removed when Andrew called him back with a name. "Mister Leerman". William paused and turned about slowly. He appraised Mister Light with a long look, asking only one question. "Do you speak any Dutch whatsoever, Mister Light?" "No, Sah. Not enough to mention." William continued his appraisal. It was a lengthy look. Andrew waited. "Make the change known to him." "Aya, Sah." . . . Eric Franklin and Miss Tribbiani were engaged in a lively, but whispered debate on the good of having dogs aboard ship, with the latter arguing that the mess and the added tax on provisions was of no consequence, given the benefits of the animal's sense, ferocity when called for and loyalty absolute. Eric was in the middle of arguing that all her points could be summed up in a good sailor who had better sense to relieve himself over the bow forward when William arrived. They were at attention in short order, which startled Argus just enough to huff a little. William scratched the mastiff's head behind one gratefully turned ear. "How is the prisoner?" Eric and Treasure exchanged a look. Then Eric fetched his hand into his pocket. There was some wriggling there as Eric tried to fetch something that clinked together. "Please..." Treasure implored. "Go ahead." Eric returned as he fetched out what could only be a generous smathering of mixed coins. They caught the light of the low lantern. "Sah." Treasure began. "Argus heard the prisoner at hiding them." William said nothing. His face darkened at the idea of a sailor carrying so much coin about his person, let alone secreting such. "It was the tinkling, Sah. Argus hear..." "Aye." William said flatly Then added, "Thank you." He said this three times. First to Miss Tribbiani, then to Argus and finally to Mister Franklin as he held out a hand to receive what was likely 'stolen goods'. William stood a long while holding the coins and weighing them up and down. He made no move to put them away, but looked up with a practiced solemnity. "The prisoner is to have no admonishment. Am I understood?" "Aye, Sah." They returned together. "The prisoner is to eat. No trencher. No knife." "Aye, Sah." "The prisoner is to be brought amidships at eight bells of the Forenoon Watch." "Aye, Sah." William almost turned to leave and added, "And Mister Franklin." "Sah." "Eight Marines...for his protection." "Aye, Sah."

Thank you for the review and the candor about previous weapons by the same manufacturer.

Welcome aboard, Mister Verdon!

Morning Watch aboard the Watch Dog William knocked at the galley and had a only a moment to wonder that he did this at all. Lazarus was prompt to answer. "Pardon, Cap'n. It's almost fin..." William was already shaking his head. "AS you have time Mister Gage." "Yes, Sah. Will it be just you, Sah?" "Four." William said no more than this. His mind was too busy with numbers, treaties and funerals. "How did the galley fare?" "The galley, sah?" Lazarus looked about at the small space. "Oh. The galley, Sah. Some crockery chipped but not broken." Lazarus took out a towel tucked at his apron, shed a long and dirty cap and wiped the entire circumference of his head. "It's a good stove, Sah. Sand an' bands well set. Not so much as a cinder set free." William nodded, coming back to the report. He looked about the entire place and found it as well kept and tended as could be hoped. "We shed some stores a little." Lazarus offered. "No more than a tax in peas...and that went to Argus." "Thank you, Mister Gage. I'll take my rum ration in a heavy broth to be divided between Monsieur Durand and Mister Tucker...when he's able." "Aye, Sah." William closed the door, careful to check the shrinking and growing list in his head, and knocked at the surgery. He heard the bolt run on the surgery door and chanced to wonder why. Miss O'Treasaigh opened it only a little at first, more the gesture of a watchman, but upon seeing the Captain there held it wide and ushered him in. William stepped into the surgery to find too many people there. Wounded men were set like so much cargo, but in a way that William found admirable. "Very good." William said in deference to her handling of them, for every person there seemed 'fitted' to some position, be it seated or prone, that their injuries might not be troubled. Indeed a few were set so that their arm, shoulder or leg might pillow the resting men to his right or left. He looked back at her and said again, "Very good." She looked about at her own handiwork and brushed a worried strand behind her ear. "Thank you, Captain." William turned his head to find Gabriel Edward, bandaged about the head, but clear eyed. William went to ask after his condition, but was met with a question. "Mister Badger..." William shook his head soberly. "No. No sign." He let those who were listening digest this a moment. "The body of Mister Howard was brought aboard this very hour." A small groan of murmur passed everyone's lips. Henry Church looked up from where he was cradling a battered young Dash. The young man's eyes were fixed on Brand already. William crossed to both of them, stepping long over a snoring Morrell. He put the palm of his hand on the young man's brow. Miss O'Treasaigh noted the bedside gesture and the paternal concern. "The shipwright, Sah?" Henry Church asked. William's face didn't change, but for a small nod and the barest of smiles he gave to Mister Dash. Outwardly he answered rather flatly, with the business end of clarity. "Yes, the shipwright." Inwardly Captain William Brand dispatched Capitan Eustaquio Alano Avendano using a carpenter's mallet, all the while shouting, "You have murdered a shipwright! A shipwright! Two days more proved and Alder would have had his Carpenter's Mate!" Outwardly he simply smiled again, for he'd saved some gossip and good news for the last. "Monsieur Durand and Christopher Tucker were plucked alive from the Patricia this morning." This news had the desired affect. It was a kind of balm through the wounded company. More than a few remarks were passed around. Superstitions and suppositions were spoken aloud and acknowledged as sailors do. William let them chatter a moment uninterrupted. It was like sunlight in a shuttered room. When the good news was all but played out William added, turning to Miss O'Treasaigh. "These men are to have the rum ration missed yestereve." This was followed by many 'thank you, sahs'. It lifted William a little and he dismissed himself from there lively conversation, passing forward. The list shrank. The list grew.

"No." Ajayi watched Durand's eye move to the Captain then. He suspected that Brand had been purposely curt in his response. It had little to do with whatever the 'Steward' had said. Steward. The word distracted Ajayi. What did it mean? Something subordinate, surely, but not slave. Never slave. Nothing approaching 'slave'. Even 'servant' seemed wrong somehow, but that might have been their...what? Relationship? And what of that? Men and women of this place were baffling at times. He'd seen Brand reverence the Steward with...what? Again he couldn't say. They were like sometimes siblings and sometimes removed from one another by leagues of station. He'd seen things his own language had no word for, but guessed their language would do no better. He admitted that he couldn't say which of them baffled him more, because the Captain seemed outside the society in which he lived and the Steward lived in many camps. Some of this seemed to come from traditions he'd witnessed at Martinique, where Brand had paid all the peoples of the two ships handsomely, so that Ajayi himself could not see who was above the other, since they all seemed equal in reward. Also, he'd witnessed women of such finery at Martinique who seemed powerless but for some imagined thread of place, while women of no place seemed to rule from gutters by cunning and the selling of themselves and every appetite, proving that coin ruled and position was enigmatic. The Captain was speaking again. He heard the word 'Monsieur' dropped once and then again. Some title only applied to the bald man with the one eye. Maybe a position of rank. It wasn't the 'Mister' that Brand used for every other man aboard ship, but something of that cloth. He noted that Brand seemed inhospitable, given the wet through guest, but had never known the Captain to waste words. This was also a guess of course, since Ajayi was catching words like birds. One at a time and not frequent enough to live by them. This time he caught seven of them in a hundred. Navarra Storm Spanish Nine Men Ship Watch Dog . . . Durand endured the questions and was forthright with his answers. He was not happy with the interchange. It had nothing to do with his state. He would have taken the questions naked and thought nothing of that, but he was tired. He liked Brand but his patience was vanishing with his strength. Plus, Durand had his pride and in a room of such varied pride among such varied people he did not want to ask the boon of a seat. Brand walked over to the table then and drew out the largest chair, offering it to Durand. Coincidence or Providence? Durand didn't care. He walked graciously to the table and sat down. Anyone watching might have thought Durand a carefree and well-rested youth, but it would cost Durand later in the form of a cramp. Brand dismissed himself to the galley, but not before mentioning a bottle of something French in the casement and leaving Durand in the company of his Steward. . . . 'Steward' Ajayi thought. There it is again.

Morning Watch aboard the Watch Dog William entered, surveyed the tidiness of the War Room, his Steward at mending and Ajayi hard by. Durand followed in his fashion, stooping a little as he was wont to do, as few ships were framed for his frame. He also came in at a slant favoring his one eye forward a little. His nightshirt clung to him everywhere with little regard for modesty. He squinted a little in surprise to find anyone but William there. This caused water to run out of the empty socket in a way that would have made anyone else self conscious. He straightened to his full height, but made no move to adjust his clothes for decorum and moved no further than the step inside the room. He marked Ajayi's place with a glance, but his eye fell back upon Miss Smith, along with his customary stern, unreadable face. He took in her bruises and marked the age of them by hue. He noted the places on her knuckles where her skin was broken, but healing. More than all of this he noted her savaged hair and found he didn't mind it for two reasons. Both base. He chanced to wonder then what the 'other' looked like. 'Probably a man,' he guessed. 'Would he still be alive? If she didn't kill him, did Brand?' She met his gaze as he thought all these things in a moment. She held it, then... 'What...?' He wondered. He caught something wavering. 'Fear? No. Not fear. Anger maybe?' William noted the interchange and broke whatever was happening by offering, "You'll remember my Steward of course." Durand nodded his head once very slowly and deliberately, like a bow at the neck alone. "Mademoiselle."

Morning Watch aboard the Watch Dog Ajayi was gone only moments. After all, he was charged to watch over this charge, but this charge he was charged with had charged him with a duty befitting the charge, so he went to the task with a smile in his eyes and an appreciation for her candor. Not knowing the protocol of the galley as a place unto itself, he knocked, finding a weary Lazarus. Mimicking Miss Smith, Ajayi mimed the act of eating and spoke only two words. “Food. Captain.” “Aye.” Lazarus returned and they parted. Ajayi put out his head out at the companionway to see the Captain in conversation with a draining Durand. Ajayi accepted the presence of Durand without curiosity or question. “Captain.” he said, just loud enough to be heard. William turned his way, and Ajayi added, “Food”, nodding back toward the great cabin. “Thank you.” William returned. Ajayi returned through the companionway and let himself back into the presence of Miss Smith and reported using the same litany for a third time. “Food. Captain’. He ran the bolt shut. . . . William’s stomach turned in a pleasant way at the thought of food, but he set that aside. He wanted to be angry with Durand, but could find nothing resembling a reason. He wished to be mad at the sea...that dumb animal thing that divided and joined all parts of Earth...but he couldn’t give the anger substance. He wanted to curse the Spanish. All of them together. This was foolishness. He needed to be angry at someone, and then he remembered Saltash and everything he could and would do that day came into focus with a precision that gave him purpose. “Mister Warren, if you please, see the Patricia brought aboard.” William went to give a second order, but paused. Jim, ever a clock of order and routine in all things simple, had not returned so much as a nod or an ‘Aye’. “Mister Warren?” “Sah. May I recommend she be tied alongside and left there for a time.” William understood in a moment and nodded. “Have Mister Howard brought aboard.” “Aye, Sah.” “Mister Youngblood!” Petee fired off a clear ‘Sah!’ and made his way to them smartly. William gave him fixed, strong instruction on two fronts. First, that he was to learn what men of the Lucy had served with Zachary Howard on the guns of that ship, and that they of that crew, and they alone were to see his body set for proper burial. Those men were to be delivered from all other duties but a twinned vigil; the keeping of the sober watch over Mister Howard and of one third of the prisoners at the shaded space forward. Second, the Master Gunner was to take the other two thirds of the prisoners and see them soundly watched ‘at work’ mending the placement of the loosed guns and the damaged deck. Mister Youngblood was to have the command of any marines for those purposes. “Aye! Sah!” He returned as two separate and distinct returns. “And Mister Youngblood…” “Sah?” “Remind the prisoners that we have added shot from the Lucy. Am I understood?” “Indeed, Sah.” William turned to Jim and surveyed him gallant to keel. “How many watches have you stood the quarterdeck together since the storm?” Jim smiled a little and it was answer enough. “I suspected as much. Hear my orders now. You are not required to sleep, eat or resign the deck, but as you see fit...understanding that you never have to prove anything to me. Mathew Campion took a turn asleep three hammocks from me last night and should serve.” Jim took the compliment and suggestion in turn. “Aye, Sah,” he returned, smiling and committing to nothing. William shook his head with a little huff and a smile and gestured to the aft companionway. “Monsieur Durand.” Durand took a step and paused. Slow to give anyone more deference than he felt they deserved, he made a point to offer his hand to the Ship’s Master. Jim clasped it without pause. “Welcome aboard, Monsieur.” They passed out of the sun then, and by the surgery and galley both, and though Brand had business in both places he wished to see Durand soundly set. Lists of many thing were being made and checked off in his mind as he strode those few short steps. Finding the door shut fast, he was obliged to knock.

Dragging a carrot.

How come everyone you introduce to Pyracy takes your stuff?

Morning Watch aboard the Watch Dog "Tuck." Jim watched William's face as the news set in. Then watched him shake his head once, twice and then a third time with a little huff of a laugh that was more breath than mirth. They were both at the damaged starboard rails. "Tuck", William said again, looking down on the men that were bringing ropes to the rescued longboat and the castaways there. Like before, it wasn't a question. William came back to himself shaking his head a fourth and final time. "The man's to have my share at evening," he said, almost to himself. "Aye, Sah." Jim agreed, adding nothing. "And Durand...?" This was a question, and it seemed to stop William with a new wonder. "But...how...?" Jim shook his head. The two men simply watched as first, Christopher Tucker was brought aboard in a sling of rope, and then after him came a half drowned Durand helped by many hands. They lay Christopher down gently and all about him shook their heads to see the unluckiest of lucky men snatched from death again. Owen Monahan crossed himself out of habit and some of his fellows smiled at the surprising revelation of a hidden papist. Owen flushed and then glowered at them, which spurred them to wider smiles, though none of them met his eyes. Durand looked no less drowned on deck as water ran from his shirt in long rivulets. Twice he was offered a steadying hand and twice he shook it off, growling things that touched not on French or English, but rather some sort of Latin mixed with archaic expletives. He cast his one good eye about until it fell on Brand. "Permission to come aboard." He asked this and promptly fell back into some saving arms. "Permission granted." Durand recovered himself, straightened his soaked clothing in an act of dignity that looked absurd and said, "Captain, I have need of a barber's bowl and some privacy." William and Jim almost looked at each other, but didn't. William opened his mouth to ask why the man should have such urgency for shaving, but Durand explained, "J'aimerais chier à voir par." William was quite certain he'd heard the man wrong, his poor French notwithstanding. Three questions formed on his lips simultaneously and before he could ask any of them a cry came up from the waterline. Men employed in righting the Patricia were presented with the bent and broken corpse of Zachary Howard.

I did this with leather stovepipe boots in the same color as the bottom example in the painting. They looked close enough that people asked me where I bought them. They proved to be a very passable shoe that I used until I get the real thing.

I picked up added stockings. We're building a nice collection of loaners.