William Brand

August 1, 1704 - Fort Royal Prison Just after four bells of the Forenoon Watch. William and his two men arrived at the Fort Royal Prison where they were required to show papers at once. This done, they were taken before Louis de Mallevaud, the Commandant of Marines at Fort Royal Prison. They also had the pleasure of Monsieur Dufour's company once more and it was he that explained the nature of Captain Brand's visit. Louis de Mallevaud poured over the papers from the Particular Governor several times before he was satisfied to their contents. He made a point of asking several question via Dufour, though the answers were clearly laid out before him already. William was unperturbed, for a man of the Commandant's position could not be too careful with the transfer of prisoners during a time of war. William answered every question as it was put to him, concluding with the number of prisoners requested. "Quatre-vingt-dix hommes?" Mallevaud asked, confirming the number. "Aye." William agreed. "Some four score and ten." In the end, the exchange only lasted but a few minutes. Louis de Mallevaud added his long, auspicious signature to the document from Gouverneur Gabaret before adding an additional letter of his own. Then, with the last of these formalities taken care of, William, Louis and Owen were ushered before the first cells of the prison. Bénédicte Dufour stood in the midst of the corridor and called for the attention of the guards on duty there and the prisoners within. The guards snapped to attention at once. The prisoners were less enthusiastic. Many of them remained seated and some didn't even look up from their corners. Monsieur Dufour gestured to William. "Merci." William said with a nod towards Dufour. Then he turned and faced those who were gathering along the bars in the corridor. "My name is William Brand, Captain of the frigate Watch Dog. I have in my service some 78 men and 8 women aboard the Watch Dog and the cutter Heron." There was a solitary expression of surprise as one of the prisoners cried out, "Women...?" It was followed by a few laughs and some more faces appeared at the bars. William continued. "I have come here this day to recruit a number of you men to swell the ranks of these two ships. Any of you wishing to sign on with us may make your mark and escape your place here as free men. No word of your previous conduct or allegiance will be mentioned hereafter. You will be given food, clothing, hammock and whatever else you may require for your duties aboard these two ships. We sail under a marque of Spain and France, so you will be required to show good service against the enemies of these two nations. If you cannot raise sword or pistol against your previous countrymen, you need not seek a berth with us. If you cannot show experience adequate or the health necessary for such service, you need not seek a berth with us. If you join us now only to forward some expectation of escape, then you need not seek a berth with us. I require able seamen and what craftsmen can be found herein. No worthy man will be turned away if he may show cause that he is able and willing to join with us. If there should be more of you wishing to join than I am able to free from this place, I will draw lots to determine who remains and who goes free." There was a silence that followed, but only for a moment. A man near the head of the corridor pressed himself forward against the bars and narrowed his eyes a bit. "Are ye he that sank the Ascalon?" he asked, with a strong note of curiosity. William did not answer. The destruction of the Ascalon had been laid at his door some six years now. He was past denying whatever responsibility he had had or had not had in the demise of that vessel, but he answered the man only with silence. The man was nodding just the same. "And what is your name, sah?" William asked, his tone neutral. "Hollis." he answered almost too sharply, like a man much practiced in the art of answering officers. Hollis caught himself doing it and smiled. "Robert Hollis." "I have a Robert, Mister Hollis. Why should I take on another...?" William said, surveying the man. "I'm prettier than yer man." Robert Hollis returned at once. "And ye might call me Hollis in place of Robert." Robert Hollis was not prettier than Robert Thatcher. He was not far uglier, but his face did not pass for its looks. It was a worn face which spoke of previous hardships and many years in the sun. His eyes were that grey-blue color which disturbs most people, but he had the simple look of a man that works hard and answers straight. William liked the man at once, but said nothing. He simply nodded. "And what for pay then?" said another man from behind William. William turned to face a man more surly and disagreeable than Owen on a bad day. "No doubt you've seen some Dutch prisoners of late." William returned. "Aye." said a young Englishman from behind the same bars, and he pointed in the direction of those cells deeper within the prison. "The Dutchies are further down in the dark." "We took from them their fluyt Maastricht. Heavy laden. We also claimed the English Cutter Heron, which we kept for ourselves. We have to our coffers added some 6,000 pounds and more, of which four shares passed to every able seamen. And before this we took some three thousand in holdings and specie." This caused a stir like no other before it. Several men who had stood only out of curiosity, now rallied at the bars for a chance to be at the front. The recruiting was now begun.

John Hurt. Not William.

August 1, 1704 - Martinique By ten of the morning patches of sunlight had finally reached the jungle floor where Tawny was bedded down. One of these bright beams of light crossed his face, and like any stubborn sleeper, he squinted away from it. He rolled his whole body over in a fashion that was almost childlike. He sprawled on the leaves and brambles face down with his head tucked beneath one shielding arm. Then he chanced to turn his head towards the tree which held his play thing. Adebanke was not there. Tawny looked at the tree a very long time and couldn't remember if then he had set her free or killed her the night before. He was still in the miasma of waking and he couldn't reason the night past. His head hurt in a very real way, but there were parts of him that ached in ways that seemed distant and dreamy. There were injuries real and imagined that woke up slowly in him. Some aches were ten years dead, but they seemed to return under the sun. At last he sat up. Beside him lay a large rock that he could not remember. He made a habit of memorizing the places where he slept, always conscientious of exits and weapons, but this rock had not been here and he wondered for a moment if it had made its way here by itself. He also noted that the rope he had used to tie his prisoner with was still at the tree, and he was certain that he would not have left it discarded so casually. "Boy's gone, Tawny..." he explained to himself, for he was still of a mind that Adebanke was a boy and not a prepubescent girl. "Gone and left..." he answered himself, surprised that anyone should leave his company. He sat there like a waking drunk with a haze over his eyes. This cloud slowly passed and a rising irritation simmered across his face. "Tawny gets a little time with it." he growled. "Find it and wash it...aye." he agreed. He looked straight into the sun and closed his eyes with a look that would have been angelic on any face but this devil. On Tawny it was all broken glass and patchworks. "Beautiful Chris. Beautiful..Chris." he whispered. And before the name was dead on his lips he was off and running. Elsewhere on Martinique... The longboat of the Watch Dog bumped against a busy dock in the shadow of Fort Royal. Three very different men climbed out from the boat. One was of a no great height, though recent events had indeed 'bent him' a little more. His dark eyes and hair contrasted his sunburns but his nickname seemed well deserved, for he looked the ferret of a man inside and out. The second man walked as upright as any man born of earth. He wore the smile that was his candle uncovered and he was humming something of French origins as he walked. A man in a park wherever he went. The last man was the contradiction, more than the sum of all his parts. He walked with a long cane, though he didn't need one. Sometimes it rested on his shoulder and other times he tapped it along the paving stones. The finery he wore that morning was flattering and inappropriate at the same time, and the few gentlemen who passed him on the street seemed cautious with their salutations, for the Captain's smile was just subtle enough to be interpreted in more ways then one. Some of them unpleasant. In fact, William was very far away from Martinique. He had the look of the philosopher on his face this morning, for he was removed from himself in thought. It was something about the morning. It was also something about the night before. Dreams, memories and the impending weather had all combined in him at once to cause a self reflection of sorts. Of course, it helped this mood that he was all too aware of the Fort Royal Prison as it loomed before him. The day promised strange possibilities. ~Starboard Watches on Duty~

We believe in large portions at the Kate.

Trifle...?

The diagram does show one pair of boots to four pairs of shoes. The other images in the diagram that look like boots are in fact stockings.

Today's special is Parmesan and pecan crusted Red Roman

August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog The ledgers of the Watch Dog hampered William enough that Louis Morrell was left a long time waiting amidships. He passed the time at the galley and ate his fill of biscuits fresh from the cook stoves. He also conversed with Mister Gage and the time passed quickly enough under the long tales that Lazarus spun amidst a cloud of flour. Finally, between two and three bells of the Forenoon Watch, a company of two longboats arrived and William arrived on deck even as they hailed the officer of the watch. William looked out from the rail to see Monsieur Goddu and his counterpart, Charpentier. They arrived with some two dozen for the purpose of moving the Maastricht to the docks and William welcomed the two counting house clerks aboard the frigate. "Captain Brand." They chimed, almost together. "Monsieur Goddu. Monsieur Charpentier." he returned, gesturing aft. William called for Louis and the four of them slipped into the Ward Room. Here, the last of the formalities of selling the Maastricht were accomplished, and before the third bell of the watch had sounded, Goddu and Charpentier were bound for the fluyt. William sent over the longboat after them to fetch back the weary Styles and Mooney, last of the dogs aboard the cumbersome Elephant. They were welcomed back by all with a few good humored jeers and jibes. William thanked them and freed them from all other duties of the day. Paul went straight to the galley for some much needed nourishment and Jerrod Styles begged the boon of joining him there for food before returning to the Heron. William granted Jerrod his request. Then he asked Mister Morgan to call Owen to the longboat, there to go ashore with William and Louis to the Fort Royal Prison. "Sah." Mister Morgan said, choosing his words carefully. "He's still a bit...bent from his injuries." "Aye, Mister Morgan. I am aware of that. He has a dark disposition at present and he'll openly advise me without mincing words." William explained. "I need his temperament for the sorting at the prison." "Of course, sah. Very good, sah." William straightened his hat and went over the rail into the waiting boat. Three bells of the Forenoon Watch ~Starboard Watches on Duty~

Potrayal of a specific occupation doesn't bother me at all, and since it doesn't specifically imply any pecking order, it would not bother me if someone wanted to have a little 'background' to enact. You might call yourself 'A carpenter' rather than 'THE carpenter' of the Mercury. Let's get a sound off on this from everyone as the next few weeks pass. I for one would love to see period tools at work. My title of Quartermaster is a position of acclamation more than rank. Roughly translated...If I screw up, I get the boot. Of course when I say 'boot', I really mean a straight-lasted buckle shoe.

I've been calling it meat candy for about 20 years now. You, sah, are a man of high standing in my book. I need to get to work putting together the artwork for Baconfest 15.

Thank you. If I posted them all I would bury my photobucket account. But I'll post a few as I come across the best of the best. Tracy at the Holy Sepulchre... ...she slays me.

Here are a few random images from our trip to Amsterdam and Israel... We had over 4,500 pictures, plus the pictures from the rest of the group. The grand total was almost 16,000 images from the trip.

That becomes a mouthful, so don't be afraid to call it Baconfest Milwaukee or some such name befitting the region itself. Perhaps like Milwaukee, it could have some native name. So many possibilities. Welcome aboard.

Baconfest Mid-West it is. Welcome to the celebration. I look forward to sending you fliers and information. I'll be in contact with you very soon.

Divine incarnation of pork...I'll fetch some plates.

My niece is holding another Baconfest event this year that shall run on the same day as ours. This particular Baconfest will be held in Moscow. Not Moscow, Idaho. The original Moscow. We are now international. For those of you keeping track at home, this makes four Baconfest events on October 13th.

The subject has been discussed in many threads. For example... http://pyracy.com/forums/index.php?showtop...ea%20chest&st=0 Some of my personal favorites may be found here... http://www.marlinespike.com/sea_chests.html

August 1, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Before first bell of Forenoon Watch A solitary knock came at the Ward Room door and Mister Morgan put his head in at the doorway. "Pardon, sah, but Captain Lasseter sends his regards. He's putting into shore to see Mister Pew and to do what ship's business as he has ashore." "Is he gone already from the Heron, Mister Morgan?" William said without looking up from his ledgers. "Aye. And come and gone from the 'Dog, sah." William looked up a moment and nodded. "Damn. Well, very good Mister Morgan. See that the longboat is swung out and have Claude Marchande standing ready." "Sorry, sah, but Mister Marchande is ashore just now. Larboard Wa..." "Aye." William returned. "Of course. And Jannes Kampaert will be ashore as well, then..." "Aye, sah." "What man aboard can speak French?" Mister Morgan thought on the matter awhile, careful to consider anyone who might serve. "The new man, Jean Doublet, sah. But...he's gone abed since the eighth bell, sah. He served the Morning Watch." "I see..." "There is the Dutch boy, Stoir." "Aye, and does he speak a word of English yet?" "No good words, sah. There's Morrell. "Ah, yes." William agreed, and he felt turned about in his watches. 'Too much time spent a shore' he thought. "Thank you, Mister Morgan. Have Mister Morrell report amidships. I shall join him there shortly." ~Starboard Watches on Duty~

I like it. Let us endeavour to prove it is period at all costs.

I love you. Platonically. Are you bringing a boat? Say that you are bringing a boat.

For those of you who are not following the discussion called "A Seamans Camp: making camp authentic and nautical, Some tips to make your camp seaworthy" taking place under the Plunder forum, I have copied a recent post about the 1720 Mercury Careening Camp which I made to answer a question asked by Calico Jack. I am posting it here for those people who have questions about the careening camp. I tried to keep the statement relatively general since we are still an evolving idea. http://pyracy.com/forums/index.php?showtop...opic=11490&st=0 First, thank you all for the discussion. The points raised, debated, counter-raised, argued, raised to the ground, explained and raised from the dead are all very interesting. I have gleaned a little from everyone. Now, to answer Calico Jack... The setting or backdrop of the 1720 Mercury Careening Camp is an interesting one. Since the Pirates in Paradise Festival takes place on Key West, and given the chosen year of 1720, the careening takes place in what would have been Spanish waters. Now Fort Zachary Taylor was not built until 1845, so the fort itself is not 'period'. However, the hostilities between Spain and England were such that the year 1720 falls almost directly between the destruction of St. Augustine of 1702 and the Georgian's attack on Florida in 1740, with numerous hostilities of various degrees falling in between. This establishes the English presence, and while it may be a bit fluid and anachronistic in 1720, it suits our purposes. Now, since Harry always has a Red Coat presence at the festival every year, for the purpose of the festival we must argue that for narrative reasons these English soldiers are trying to gain a foothold, outpost or secret base of operations within Spanish Florida. The geography of Key West, both historically, politically and physically, have changed to such a degree that we have to take considerable license, but the fort is there and damn us if were not going to use it! The Mercury and her crew are much easier to explain away. Spanish waters had English pirates. Done. Our story for the festival is this...The Mercury, being an older Bermuda sloop, requires some repairs to her aging hull. The crew of the Mercury has beached the sloop on the Key of Bones for the purpose of careening her to scrape her hull and pitch the seams. By necessity the crew must pitch a makeshift camp ashore while the work on their ship is completed. Relatively simple story. How do we explain away the English proximity to pirates? Again, it is relatively simple. The Pirates have careened the Mercury out of sheer necessity. They are willing to careen so near the usurping English because they know that the forces there are small, almost threadbare. The English cannot afford to over reach their tentative foothold in Spanish waters and we cannot afford a clash with the English while the Mercury is laid over on her side. What exists is a very tenuous relationship between English soldiers and English pirates in a land under the rule of Spain. It becomes the perfect template for intrigue, accusations, suspicion, betrayal and all of the hobgoblin emotions that crop up between two opposing forces. Of course it could be argued, and rightfully so, that we are taking considerable license, but like many pirate festivals we are merely acting out an historical fiction. We are trying to be as accurate to the period, as faithful to history and as true to ourselves as we can be. We hope to be both period and aesthetic enough for our own enjoyment and satisfaction as well as the education and entertainment of our visitors. The individual kits, tents, costuming and extras being supplied for the overall camp fall under the direct discretion of the crew members individually, and in some cases, collectively. This is the first year of the 1720 Mercury Careening Camp. I am certain that an evolution will follow. Again, thank you for the many examples and opinions sited herein. -William Brand

First, thank you all for the discussion. The points raised, debated, counter-raised, argued, raised to the ground, explained and raised from the dead are all very interesting. I have gleaned a little from everyone. Now, to answer Calico Jack... The setting or backdrop of the 1720 Mercury Careening Camp is an interesting one. Since the Pirates in Paradise Festival takes place on Key West, and given the chosen year of 1720, the careening takes place in what would have been Spanish waters. Now Fort Zachary Taylor was not built until 1845, so the fort itself is not 'period'. However, the hostilities between Spain and England were such that the year 1720 falls almost directly between the destruction of St. Augustine of 1702 and the Georgian's attack on Florida in 1740, with numerous hostilities of various degrees falling in between. This establishes the English presence, and while it may be a bit fluid and anachronistic in 1720, it suits our purposes. Now, since Harry always has a Red Coat presence at the festival every year, for the purpose of the festival we must argue that for narrative reasons these English soldiers are trying to gain a foothold, outpost or secret base of operations within Spanish Florida. The geography of Key West, both historically, politically and physically, have changed to such a degree that we have to take considerable license, but the fort is there and damn us if were not going to use it! The Mercury and her crew are much easier to explain away. Spanish waters had English pirates. Done. Our story for the festival is this...The Mercury, being an older Bermuda sloop, requires some repairs to her aging hull. The crew of the Mercury has beached the sloop on the Key of Bones for the purpose of careening her to scrape her hull and pitch the seams. By necessity the crew must pitch a makeshift camp ashore while the work on their ship is completed. Relatively simple story. How do we explain away the English proximity to pirates? Again, it is relatively simple. The Pirates have careened the Mercury out of sheer necessity. They are willing to careen so near the usurping English because they know that the forces there are small, almost threadbare. The English cannot afford to over reach their tentative foothold in Spanish waters and we cannot afford a clash with the English while the Mercury is laid over on her side. What exists is a very tenuous relationship between English soldiers and English pirates in a land under the rule of Spain. It becomes the perfect template for intrigue, accusations, suspicion, betrayal and all of the hobgoblin emotions that crop up between two opposing forces. Of course it could be argued, and rightfully so, that we are taking considerable license, but like many pirate festivals we are merely acting out an historical fiction. We are trying to be as accurate to the period, as faithful to history and as true to ourselves as we can be. We hope to be both period and aesthetic enough for our own enjoyment and satisfaction as well as the education and entertainment of our visitors. The individual kits, tents, costuming and extras being supplied for the overall camp fall under the direct discretion of the crew members individually, and in some cases, collectively. This is the first year of the 1720 Mercury Careening Camp. I am certain that an evolution will follow. Again, thank you for the many examples and opinions sited herein. -William Brand

Well, just wait until we can get Mister Tar in here, or some other gent.

I've hosted many dances. Aye. Hosted them.