Remittance ManChapter 2
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Remittance ManChapter 3 free porn video
--1820—-
January saw the birth of a little girl to our family, yet the poor waif drew not her first breath. Cold and silent she came into this world, cold and silent she left it with no laughter nor joy between times. Katherine retreated into herself for a while. I took many a long walk in the woods. We held each other at night attempting to ease the pain of the other. We held and rocked Joshua and Mary to ease our hearts.
I forced myself to labor rather than retreat.
My forge was rebuilt and the blades came from it at a prodigious rate. We attempted to cast cannon barrels with dismal success. Winding barrels in the method of constructing shot-guns also failed. We seemed doomed to failure in the field of heavy weapons.
We persevered. I recoursed to casting barrels in brass. We had some limited success. The technique lended itself to casting mortars. Scaling up to larger sizes gave nought but grevious accidents until puddling, pre-warming and gentle heating of our castings gave us the reward we so devoutly wished. We had mortars that could shake the earth, with barrel apertures of one half of a foot with barrel lengths of but two feet and a full diameter of thirty inches, allowing a full foot of brass about the bore and behind the touch hole.
I began to purchase powder of the Dutch and the French. We parceled out the loads and stored them within dry bunkers.
The baths were rebuilt as soon as the frost left the soil and the mortar would set. We constructed six great tubs surrounded by laundry tubs. It was a popular place to fight the chill.
We cast drift nets from aboard ship and harvested many a bountiful catch. We smoked what we did not eat while our hunters worked the streams for deer coming down for water. The game did not seem to see danger from the water.
Porcupine meat is sweet. I know this for a fact as the youths killed many that were attracted to our camp by the prospects of an easy feed. The opportunistic little wretches fared poorly against boar spears.
We cut many a tree for firewood and to construct shelters for the ovens. The structures involved in the powder bunkers and larders went in with if not ease then a smoothness of practice. I built a raised oven at each longhouse as well as many in a group at our central camp. We found many new supplies of bush willow to supply flights.
The women missed our leaching pits for the hides and alkalai leaching benches to make soap. Have trust in my statements that I and mine had no time for idle hands—we were too busy keeping the women happy. Without a doubt that—from a man's perspective—there is nothing more disheartening than a contentious woman. The longer I live the more this proves to be one of life's constant lessons.
One warm spring evening I sat with Clancy appreciating the fire when he spoke as was his wont—constructing questions that would befuddle a Jesuit.
"Lord, it seems odd that there is no stonework to mark or provide defence of your hold."
"Clancy, the stones are you, the men, the women and the children. Walks Together is not an empty phrase, it has become our way of life. It matters not where we are, simply that we are together gives us unity and structure. Each has learned by example to throw in together. Some labor more than others yet each labors to their utmost in their time. We are favored by not only our Lord above, but also by the hundred nations. The great wet bogs give fruit, the deer come easily to the spear and our families are prolific"
"Yet lord, what of incursions? Our brown brothers respect us, yet the French and English give no such promise. How may we make ready?"
"Already we prepare. Truly, we need produce granaries and warehousing for goods, a trading house and a deepwater dock. I would have stone strong points made to surround and protect our cannon so that small arms fire would not affect their advantage. We yet need teams practiced in the use of the cannon made ready. However, our central camp is our only exposure to the bay, all other camps have been constructed nestled deep within the woods, observable only by great diligence by the white man. The fields have been prepared away from the shoreline. Thus any attacks should be concentrated upon our site here where we are prepared to mass cannon fire upon them."
"Lord, would it be prudent to mount cannon to the East and West edges of our camp both to enfilade any opponent and draw fire away from our powder magazine?"
"You have a cunning twist of mind, Clancy. We shall begin digging out positions and collecting rock tomorrow. The magazine needs to be reinforced with earth and stone as well. Wheeled barrows should prove advantageous for this task. I shall work some up immediately."
The barrows proved their worth in the planting as well as collection of the harvest, cut wood, clay and rock. Good English shovels and hoes aided the works to be sped towards completion at a prodigious rate. We had no teams of oxen nor horse to support dredging a line to support blue-water sailing craft or bury the footings for a proper dock so we compromised. We built rafts and bolted them together. Our vessels grew in number and made the trip to port town regularly to obtain foodstuffs and send finished goods to market.
Our native women were producing black fired clay ware of astonishing beauty and function. The reed mats while of lesser durability and value were treasured by shopkeeper and housewife alike to soften the floors of many folk. After mentioning at the ordinary that I slept upon a bed made up of three or four mats layered upon each other the demand went up again. Finer grass mats were used to cover all and provided astonishing comfort, as well as to cover rude log walls. Woven baskets and reed sun hats found a ready market as well.
The sale of arms from our forge brought in gold and imported goods. I sold to Frenchmen, Germans, Spaniards and the Dutch. The English could chew rocks for all I cared. A Moor traded several wonderful rubies to be equipped with a great bladed scimitar he called a Tulwar. It took as much iron as three normal blades to complete, yet we both walked away satisfied. He claimed that its damascene rivaled the best Damascus blades. If he could swing it, I would forge it.
As part owner in the mercantile, rooming house, eggery and chicken farm a base profit kept returning to our coffers. Our ownership of the warehouse, granary and smokehouses gave little profit, yet cut our costs to near zero for food preparation and storage.
Were we preparing for no reason? God supports the ready, willing and able. The women were taken as slaves from camps that thought themselves ready enough. A ready camp filled with beautiful women posed a tempting target. Our shipboard visitors could not help but talk on long nights and in comfortable alehouses. The lessons of my father and his father oft came to mind. One should be prepared yet never seem so. paths were to funnel the enemy into unsheltered galleries with no escape but for the ends. We gently flooded the pans about the camps that would mire horses or armored men but for causeways we could advance or retreat thru. They could be blocked by downed trees, and never ran straight for any distance. The two bombards set away from camp were covered by fast-growing reed and vine. The approaches before and beside them were made mires beneath the greenery and blackberry canes.
We received yet again visitors from the hundred nations. Several viewed our camp with the eyes of a war chief and suggested food caches and a retreat. We eagerly took advantage of their wisdom and rocked in a large shelter near a stream some days march West of our camp which was disguised by dense thorn bush. We stocked this shelter with firewood, bedding, dried food, arms, skins and much portable wealth. We set aside powder by the waxed keg, shot, ball, cannon ball and two of the lightest mortars. Many, many flights and throwers were left there. We were reminded that no man is the largest or fiercest, as no nation is the strongest. Any may be overcome. However, the fiercest bear may be harried to death. We found a hillside Northwest a day's march away almost as fine and repeated our exercise, constructing another redoubt.
Summer flew by in our preparations. We had need to build three more longhouses and clear three more fields. We gained escaped indentured servants, Scottish, English and Irish. It was a sad jest that saw our rude camp to be considered infinitely better than the life of an indentured slave. These folk brought much anger with them and mixed well with our camp. Our hunters stalked at a lope, memorizing the land and were constantly vigilant. They preferred the flight and throwing stick against the shot-gun or musket due to the silence of its fire.
Our harvest feast drew many native guests. I found that our hospitality was well known amongst the tribes. We roasted many pig, deer and porcupine. We surprised our guests that year with molasses baked beans and pickles, forcemeat sausage and sourkraut. Many took note of the construction of our ovens and casseroles. Buried firepits could only be used for a single dish, while ovens could be used until cool, then fired again easily, without re-digging a hot, smoky pit.
Katherine and I were faced with many wondrous faces as we read stories and poetry at our Christmas celebrations. I nodded to my wife as she observed the same. We had neglected our brood. Though we had lost one child the rest were ours by fiat, hence our responsibility.
With the winter winds and storms imprisoning us within our camp the classes in letters and numbers were well-attended. Many young as well as many not-so-young diligent students learned the basics. Classes in geometry brought many a confused look and later many a satisfied smile.
--1821—-
We were awakened New Years day by a horrendous wailing and caterwauling. Clancy had succeeded in fashioning my pipes. I fear that my most perfect wife Katherine has not forgiven me to this day. I believe Tom spoke up with a heartfelt refrain that most natives entertained:
"My God, Clancy! Either fuck it or kill it, but stop torturing the poor thing."
From that day forward Clancy took a horribly dim view of anyone declaring him 'goatfucker'.
I left Clancy behind during my next voyage to port town. No man could have known the repercussions.
Two weeks before the mast left me at harborage. I left the ship wearing my customary skins and boots, saber and small knives, sword breaker and staff. The tone of the village had changed and for the worse. I stopped by the widow to arrange for shelter during my stay. She had been struck across the face and seriously bruised. She wished not to discuss it yet I prevailed. A stout red-haired man was the cause of her distress. I vowed to be the Lord's tool and act without judgement or malice. The Lord would command my arm. However, the wolf would command my stalk. Of the three alehouses and two ordinaries in town I made my way, light of foot and keen of eye. I did not spot my quarry. I found that the sheriff had been struck down from behind and lay abed, never to regain his feet. I secured sixty pounds of powder in tins, three demijohns of whale oil and sixteen feet of cannon fuse from the merchant then secured them with the widow in which I could manage to work at night. I spotted our red-headed wonder late that night at an ale house sporting a profusion of women available for a price. I stole a hank of wire from a blacksmith's forge and wired shut the doors of the alehouse while he caroused. I carefully wetted the sills and porches with oil and threw a canister of powder with a lit fuse thru a window. I then retreated across the street to enjoy the evening's entertainment. When the powder blew the flames caught at the sills and carried about the house. Then the screams began. Those that escaped death to flee into the night were burned most piteously yet I could not bend my resolve. As chief and laird it was my duty to insure that this disease was burned free. The next night another bawdyhouse caught fire and burned to the ground, this time without survivors. Many a suddenly lordless young man strode the streets seeking revenge that night. Many never saw the dawn. The howl of a wolf was heard throughout the town that night. The next night was dark and the leaderless ones patrolled with torches yet even less woke to see the dawn. The third night saw little activity as most men not of the town had taken passage out of town upon the earliest vessel sailing. I visited my friend the Sheriff abed and left him a gift which I requested of him not to open in the presence of his hostess.
It was filled with thumbs, many burned almost beyond recognition. Never let it be said that the Stuarts do not pay their debts. It has been said that good and decent people must be protected and persuaded by gentle means, but the rabble must be led by terror.
Word was left with the town merchant and the operator of the ordinary that slavers and thieves were not welcome. Vessels would be burned and bodies would henceforth disappear into the swamps to feed the skunks and raccoons. Patrols would occur at random times yet enforce the rules of common men with cold efficiency. The rest of the powder, oil and fuse were left for next time lest any watchful eye may purge the deceived. Calvinist though I be, I sought confession within the sanctified walls of the church for my deeds. I shall not speak further of that day.
The spirit of the warrior ran high within me the next day. I walked upon the fronts of my feet and brooked no argument with man nor woman. I arranged foodstuffs for our tribe then closed matters with the widow. I presented her with a matched pair of red-haired ears before I left. It took her aback yet she kissed my cheek as I left. Upon my next trip I found the pair well tanned and presented upon a board within the front door. I truly appreciate that woman.
My wives sensed my anger and lack of patience. If truth be told I was spoiling for a fight and would not brook second place. I was in a killing spirit. My wives arranged for six women to bleed my poisons night after night until I regained my balance. I felt badly for them after the fact yet they claimed that they had not been cruelly used. We wed all six into the Stuart line before harvest found us.
Each voyage to port town thence was mastered by myself or an Irishman with a suspicious nature accompanied by a minimum of four of our home-grown marines. Vengeance may be the Lord's yet judgment is within the scope of man's mandate.
I regained my center at the forge. Forging things of beauty and utility will always bring peace to my soul as long as I can swing a hammer.
Late that spring we experimented with glassmaking. I had a modicum of soda, used for welding at the forge. We needed more. I sent Clancy to town to see what was available in Soda, ingot tin, salt, coal and heavy copper sheet. My book of recipies gave many solutions of glass, yet few descriptions of their properties. I would need to experiment with the percentages and temperatures involved. This would require a high temperature laboratory.
We rocked in a long low building much as the forge, yet with beehive oven-like structures built over the tuleries. This would accommodate glassblowing. The stands, pipes, scissors and forms I readily fashioned at the forge.
A great copper bath upon a sturdy stand was fashioned over a multiple-throated tulerie. This was filled with bits of tin. A great walking wheel was fashioned at one end of the building, near the door, to drive the bellows. The watershed did not possess enough head to drive a waterwheel hence manual power must make due. Once prepared this building was left fallow for the season. I felt that it made no sense to drive the men mad with heat at the height of summer.
The idea of fashioning a beehive oven with a tulerie caught the fancy of the pottery crew, and soon a reducing kiln was fashioned. I am to inform you, gentle reader, that many an odd and exotic color came from that thing as the women experimented with glazes and combinations of clays. The days of plain black pots with simple lines and stipples were over.
We had hunted out the shores adjacent to any local navigable waters, hence our hunting practices had to change. I researched our library with an eye towards the journals of early hunters. Three techniques caught my eye—one used baits during spring, summer and fall hunting, one involved burying a small white oak bark fire near a stump and covering the hunter with a blanket to keep him warm and invisible to game while stalking game on a trail during late fall and winter hunting. The last involved hunting during rut, using the urine of a Doe to lure bucks to the hunter. We planted clover and grains in great patches at the edge of the swamps. Huge piles of branches were established near oak stands to provide cover for does and young. I anticipated a sustaining population.
The women by then had adopted many behaviors taught at their mother's knees. A thing once begun was kept and even improved upon by their collective knowledge and wisdom. The crops were planted, tended and harvested with due diligence, whether my eye lay upon the task or no. When a tool was broken or they felt its need, the request was made thru my wives and brought up with me. At times, needs must that I discuss the matter with those needing a new tool so as to fashion it properly yet I most concientiously attempted to never turn down a request.
Thruout this hurdy-gurdy my family life ran smoothly. I soon discovered eight frolicsome wenches to be a thorough distraction. Many was the time I chased one thru camp, only catch her and take her back to our longhouse for bedding to the shouts and catcalls of my braves and their mates. One can imagine my consternation at discovering that I had been graced with a camp name. Rare is the man that can bear the name Buffalo Dick with impunity. I can but attribute my father's gift to me—that of the constitution of a Scotsman.
Early winter was the time of visits. The crops were in and tribes could afford to host and feed travelers without fear of mortal sacrifice. Though I took the high side and treated with my guests as a gentleman, without a doubt they were regaled with tales of the man with eight wives. I acted the innocent when four or more wives descended upon me—all quite lovingly—before guests at a feasting. Any child being trained as a Laird is taught to catch any hint of collusion, thus making the knowing nods and grins about the fire as bold as a mad dog. I had to threaten Clancy with eight wives of his own to damp his fires. The daft ghillie was having too much fun at my expense. Now, I mind not a jape or two, yet my honor must be left inviolate. We parted with an understanding.
--1822—-
We started the season 308 strong.
It was a brutal, windy, snowy winter. Our granaries began the season nigh to overflowing. Smoked fish and the English manner of keeping forcemeat sausages under grease kept us in meat when the hunters could not fish nor hunt. Our meager supply of seed potato had multiplied with such a fervor that we were hard pressed to find space for the bounty. We dried much to avoid spoilage. The cattails were allowed to lay fallow that year for want of storage space in the larders.
This was the year Clancy began engraving and silver chasing greaves and great spear points. Elizabeth's lace books caught our fancy when designing patterns, and the ancient Claddagh and thistle became two of our favorites.
I ruined more batches of glass than I care to recall attempting to float a sheet of plain glass. The fusing heat of the glass had needs to be a touch lower than that of the melting point of the tin bath below it, or the tin would be evaporated in a flash, leaving behind a molten mess of glass across the bottom of the float tank. A salt, soda and flint receipt eventually fell victim to my experimentation. Our plane-walled buildings such as the trading houses, granaries and warehouses were glazed with thick panes beneath their shutters. We were able to keep our musical scores, books, instruments, good tools, spices and dried goods under better management. Our greater quantities of powder were kept sweet in this fashion, assisted by contact with tightly closed bags of unslaked lime.
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