The Reading of the Mail

Some video of Acastas having gotten their mail and reading through it!

Lord Nelson's mail

A special guest speaker at the Jane Austen Festival in 2016 was Bryan Austin giving a talk as Admiral Lord Nelson. I invited several of our regular Mail Packet contributers to write him special 'Nelson-themed' letters and they delivered in spades!

As you might imagine, Lord Nelson had a little difficulty in opening his letters, so Mr. Hollybrass  and Mr. Apple stepped in to assist the Admiral in the absence of his clerk, Mr. Scott.

We'll end today's post with a word of thanks from Bryan Austin, who played Nelson:

Once, in a blue while, you have the opportunity to come across an instance of living history or reenactment that is so complete and appellant to every sense that all at once you find yourself entirely transported from where you stand to another time and place. It was my real privilege to have that opportunity this past weekend meeting the crew of HMS Acasta. Sitting as a spectator to their camp and the stories of each man on board would have been enough, however when the time to deliver the mail arrived to my surprise I was included. 

I was entirely overwhelmed, to see brief slices of Horatio Nelson's life both personal and professional left me in awe and gave me that much more of a greater appreciation for him, the history, and those human experiences that knit the present with the past. From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank those who contributed to making this an experience I will never forget. For the briefest of moments, you turned an actor into an Admiral with greater ease than years of study could…Thank you!

Even More Mail!

Even MORE video of Acastas having gotten their mail and reading through it!

A Letter from Baptiste

Marie, Baptiste's wife, finds an old tar to read her her letter.

16 May 1814

Dearest Marie, 

I miss you so! And the Boys! I suppose that by now they can say hole thoughts not just words. I am writing to you in English. Perhaps Mr Clark will read this for you. I have been trying hard to learn this. My friend Apple the Carpenter, and sometimes the Doctor, tutor me. I find that writing in English is much like talking in English. You no how English is almost the same as French, just pronounced incorectly? Witting is much the same. In English each letter has something to say, none of them seem to be there just to make the word more handsome. Once I became accustomed to this lack of beauty in English words it was not so difficult.

We are back on the Blockade of Baltimore and things are very dull except the times we chase after a prize. We have captured several, and I am entitled to an amount of money for each. It is called prize money. None of our captures have put up what could be called a fight, and do not fear for me in anycase, for when we come close I am safe below decks with the surgeon.

Things are so dull I find I become meloncoly. Most this is from missing you and the boys- but I find I also miss the small creatures of the land- birds in the morning and crickets in the evening. The only creatures here are rats and roaches. I do have some leeches- and they have become my friends! I won at cards them from an apothacary’s assistant when we were in Halifax. They are the good leeches from Europe. A  pressed man named Booke stole many for fishing bait. He and I later become friends and he told me he was sorry for thiefing them. He escaped in Bermuda. He offered for me to go with him, but I was afraid the risk was to great and the chance of success to small. I suppose he succeeded, for I have heard no more of him and I am sure news would have reached us if he were caught. But back to my friends the leeches. Dear old Messer Duvall once told me that their behavior changes with the weather, and I have found this to be true. Each morning I see what they are doing  and  compare it with the weather. They do more than you would thing a worm would do. Sometimes they climb out of the water and hang like grapes on the jar edge, sometimes they swim frantically and sometimes they even lay on the bottom on their backs.  The first time I saw this I thought they were dead, but now I know it is just something they do. I have found sometime I can predict a change in weather coming by what they are doing.

I have had one accident. A big pressed landsman fell down a hatch and knocked off a fellow coming down below him. I just happened to be passing below with a small oil lamp I use for cupping. Both fellows landed on me. I was nocked almost senseless with my face pressed into the oil from the lamp which caught fire! I was able to kill the fire with my cap, but it burned off almost all my side whiskers on the one side.  I shaved them off so the other fellows would not make a jest of me. I no how handsome you think they are- but I promise I will have them grown back buy the time you read these words.

I will close now. This letter will be sent out with others of the Doctor’s. He has made a friend of another natural philosopher in America, so it should not have a problem reaching you. My love to you and the boys.

Always your loving husband, 

Baptiste

An Introduction for Baptiste

Letters from the Packet

Some more video of Acastas having gotten their mail and reading through it!

What should I write?

Need help with letter content? People wrote letters for all manner of reasons in the period, business, duty, amusement, love, courtship, marriage, friendship etc.

Imagine all the things you do in your modern life that involve communication, now imagine if it all had to be done with a pen and paper. The people we portray wrote as a part of their daily lives, because they had to.

There are a few interesting resources I'd like to share that might inspire you to create content for letters of the period.

A well known book was 'The Complete Letter-Writer', which offered up samples of various types of letters that people wrote. Thank heavens for the fine folks at Google Books for offering a digital version online:

Below, you'll find a the text from a letter of the period to a Royal naval Lieutenant from his Aunt back home, taken from a collection of letters that you can view HERE:

to:
Lieut. F. Bond
on board His Majestys Ship Pompee, Devonshire
Cambridge 9th. March 1798 Received 24th. April

Dear Nephew,

With pleasure and a most agreeable surprise did I receive your letter of ye 29th. December many circumstances have occurred which has prevented me from answering it at ye time intended, and I am in fears least your ship should have left ye port - you find I am like all the world apt to flatter myself in thinking a letter may be agreeable but how natural it is to judge from ones own feelings - your apologies are and ought to be accepted as I know your time must be much taken up in professional Duties: I will candidly own that I imputed your silence at being weary of a correspondance with your aunt - and that I had no right to blame you yet I severely felt its loss - with your turn of mind ye company on board a ship cannot be pleasant whose ideas in general extend chiefly to conviviality - but you have comforts which to them are denied -they if alone find time heavy and irksome and know not what to do to arrouse them - whereas you can always find resources within yourself -if providence sends to some more tryals and likewise sensibility to feel them -yet surely the pleasures abovementioned are in some degree adequate - if so the distribution of the almighty are more equal than we are apt to imagine or allow - such has been my firm opinion for many years and thro' it have obtained many comforts in this chequered Life - you could not expect your Brother Thomas to meet with a wife like ye first I fear they are few if any like her and it is wonderful to me he should venture. You did not mention wether your Mother or Charlotte was well if you see them remember me kindly - or when you should at any time chance to meet with an officer belonging to the alarm - you would think of your deceased uncle and inquire wither any writing was found or how his effects was disposed of -I would have wrote when ye vessell came home but as I think they often change their captains knew not what mode to persue. Neither do I make an apology for troubling you to a Benevolent mind - ye acting ye part of a Father to the poor infant will meet its own reward - your uncle Charles and Family were well when I last heard of them - but living fourteen miles distant do not often see or write. I cannot prevail with your cousins to correspond with a gentleman not personally known - but I hope the time will arrive when you will meet and persuade them - I long to see peace wave Her olive branch over this once happy land -but wither it will be in my time I know not my health tho' something better than when I last wrote owing I believe to the mildness of the winter - is far from being established and I have my fears that it never will - may you enjoy that blessing and every other this world affords is the wish of 

your affectionate aunt
M Bond

Need some ideas for what to write? Try one of these:

Letter from a friend or colleague back home. 
(But none from immediate 'family' this year if you please.)
A bill or request for payment.
An overdue payment of debt.
A letter carrying news of the war(s)

Our New Captain!

(Or… Why I decided to spend a small fortune on a new uniform)

Originally published 7/18/2018

The captain's new duds in progress...

Allow me to introduce the new captain of the Acasta, Sir James Robert Rehme! An amalgamation of various famous Royal Navy captains, as well as real captains of the Acasta during the course of her career.

Like my stint as ‘the Doctor’, my stint as ‘the Captain’ will be more focused on what I’m doing rather than who I am supposed to be. But since we called the Doctor ‘Albert Roberts’ (my REAL name), I had to pick something new for the captain… so I did.

There will be, no doubt, some questions as to why I have decided to become our New Captain, ‘Sir James’.

Since the beginning, as the co-founder of the unit, I have been in the thick of all the decision-making for the group. In the first years I did the bulk of the recruiting, I created the website and the Facebook page on behalf of the group, and did TONS of other stuff as well.

On top of that, my responsibilities only grew as our original Captain gradually declined involvement in leadership and attended fewer and fewer events with us.

It became increasingly difficult for me to be the leader at events while wearing the surgeon’s uniform. It just doesn’t make sense for the surgeon to be issuing orders to sailors and it always left me feeling weird and we end up with a bunch of pictures of the Doctor presiding over the days activities. Additionally, over the years there have been activities that required a Captain… but it’s hard to make plans that involve him when he may or may not show up, or calls out at the last minute.

My secondary impression of Mr. Hollybrass solved SOME of those problems. As Boatswain, it allowed me to take up more of a natural leadership role at events, but poor Hollybrass can’t give orders to officers!

We needed a captain who could be present and available, and there just weren’t any viable candidates as far as I could tell. Actually there was ONE, but he lives out on the West coast and already has his own Naval unit...

Obviously, Sir James isn’t going to appear at EVERY event we do, it just wouldn’t be appropriate. And truth be told, there are many events we attend where officers aren’t needed as badly as sailors.

I want you to know that I did not take up the mantle of Captain lightly. I was very hesitant about the idea originally and required a good deal of convincing. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. At the end of the day, I’m already the ‘Admiralty’ and do all the real-life leadership stuff, I might as well have the uniform and character to match. I essentially do all the work of the Captain without ANY of the benefits. What the hell kind of fun is that I ask?

So once I was sold on the idea, I had to keep it a secret… for a YEAR. Keeping it from some of my closest friends for 365 days has been one of the most difficult things I have ever done! 

Sir James has been the product of over a year’s worth of thought, planning, research and construction
by many people. I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me to take this big, uncomfortable step, Christina, Nat, Frank, Carol and Chris. They all believed in Sir James, even before I did. 

But mostly I would like to thank my poor wife, Maggie, who not only took up the Herculean task of making the great gold monster, but has been my cheerleader all along the way, and listened as I would rant about the pros and cons of taking up this new role. God save you good wife, you bore it as no other would have! I love you very much!

Purvis Lodge Part VIII

"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would quit it -- or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."

Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 50

Part VIII

The order of a barrel of Mr. Martin’s beer to be delivered to Purvis Lodge every other week continued to stand all summer long. Martin would deliver the fresh barrel and Mr. Higgins, the sailor that took care of the kitchen, would return the old barrel. Martin had learned that Mr. Higgins was the Captain personal steward when they were aboard ship and that Higgins had been with Sir James in one capacity or another for years.

The talk in the nearby village of Stoke was that a famous artist had taken up temporary residence with Sir James. It was a rumour that Mr. Martin would later be able to confirm to his neighbors’ delight when, as he was passing the walled garden at the back of the house, Sir James called out to him from within.

“Mr. Martin! Mr. Martin, a moment if you please!” he shouted in a voice accustomed to making itself heard.

Martin stopped the cart and made his way through the garden gate. There, against the stone of the house stood Sir James, in full dress uniform, gold lace and medals glistening in the sunlight. A few yards away was the artist in a paint covered smock, seated at a stained, wooden easel that held a great canvas. Martin stopped right next to the artist and took off his hat.

“I’m pleased to have caught you Mr. Martin!” Sir James said whilst striking a heroic pose against the house. He did not move as he spoke and the artist sketched on.

“I plan to host a grand ball here at the house next month and not only would I like to order three extra barrels of beer for the occasion, but I should like to retain you to act as the tapster and serve it to my guests that night if you are willing?”

A gentle clearing of the throat from the artist prompted Sir James to put his right arm back into its original position.

“Why certainly sir,” Martin answered, “it would be my pleasure to do so.”

“Very good!” Sir James bellowed, “Are you a married man Mr. Martin?”

“No sir, I’m afraid not.” he shifted his hat in his hands.

“By God, after my ball, there’ll be wives enough for the whole lot of us! I intend to invite every young woman in the county and even a few of the old ones!” the Acasta captain laughed.

Suddenly aware that he had moved out of his heroic pose, Sir James snapped back, left hand on sword hilt, right hand extended, gazing off into some ethereal distance.

“I’ve not had a proper portrait painted since I was a boy.” Sir James confided, “But I am undecided if this new portrait ought to hang in the sitting room or the dining room”

Mr. Martin felt sure this was not a debate that required his opinion.

Sir James frowned, “I am uncertain I wish to see myself whilst I eat.”

Purvis Lodge part VI

Part VI

At midday a week later, Mr. Martin heard the familiar creak of the door of the ‘Plow’ as it admitted, what was hopefully, a customer. Business had been slow since the sailors from Purvis Lodge had stopped ordering beer by the barrel and visiting the tavern in the evenings. He was upstairs tending some cleaning and could not immediately attend the newcomer.

“I’ll be right down.” Martin called out.

“In your own time sir!” came the reply from downstairs, it was a large, booming man’s voice.

A moment later, Martin shuffled down the stairs, broom and rag in hand, to find the owner of the voice. He was seated at a table by the door and rose when Martin approached.

“You must be Mr. Martin?” exclaimed the newcomer thrusting out his hand for a shake.

Mr. Martin shook his hand and answered to the affirmative, looking the new gentleman up and down. He was clad in a naval captain’s uniform and epaulettes, and in Martin’s mind there could be no doubt as to the identity of the man.

“Are you the new master of Purvis Lodge sir?” he asked.

“I am sir! I am Captain Sir James Robert Rehme, only just moved in yesterday.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you sir” Martin gave a little bow and invited the captain to have a seat again.

“I understand you have been supplying my men up at the lodge with beer. Is that the case?” Sir James asked.

“Aye sir, I have.”

“Ah! God save you sir!” Sir James replied, “They have been about some thirsty work, and on board ship they are supplied with a quantity of beer daily. I was affeared they might mutiny if they didn’t find someone nearby to supply them. And you were paid adequately for the quantities they purchased?”

“Oh yes sir.”

“I have walked all the way here from the house in an attempt to familiarize myself with the lay of the land, as it were. I wonder if I might trouble you for some of that beer I’ve heard so much about?”

“I offer three kinds sir.” Martin already had an empty pitcher in hand, “Small beer, table beer and strong beer.”

“A pitcher of the strong if you please sir.”

Martin filled the pitcher and took it, along with a clean glass over to the captain’s table. Sir James drank it in great gulps, a man who was obviously very thirsty from his hike from the Lodge.

“And you brew this here?” Sir James asked, pausing from his glass.

“I do sir, I brew all my own beer.”

“I wonder,” began Sir James, pausing to have another sip, “I wonder if I might prevail upon you to submit a standing order of a barrel of this beer every other week to be delivered to the lodge?”

Purvis Lodge part V

Part V

A week later, Mr. Martin had the blacksmith and his two strapping apprentices, whose shop was located conveniently across the road from the Plow, help him to heave the fresh barrels of beer into his cart for his delivery out to Purvis Lodge. They were nearly done with their task when a big black carriage drawn by a handsome matching set of chestnuts passed them on the main road that ran through the middle of the village. It wasn’t one of the carriages anyone knew from nearby Haye-Park, it was of a newer manufacture that no one recognised. 

Martin and the blacksmiths craned their necks in an attempt to get a look at the occupants of the carriage, and everyone on the street outside the shops did the same, all eager to get a first glimpse of who must surely be the new tenant of Purvis Lodge. It was to no avail, the shades were drawn low enough to obscure any passengers who may have dwelt within.

Their disappointment was lessened when, shortly thereafter, two large wagons loaded with crates and furniture passed through. Each wagon’s cargo was piled as high as safety would allow, lashed down with ropes tied in the most seaman-like fashion, and riding escort along the sides of each, clutching the ropes as they went, were sailors, their braids trailing out behind them.

Scarcely had the dust settled before the speculation began afresh all over the village as to the identity of the new master of Purvis Lodge.

When, sometime later, Mr. Martin finally turned the now familiar corner up the drive, the front of the lodge was bristling with activity. The number of sailors about the place seemed to have doubled with the arrival of the furniture, and the wagons that towed it in were nearly empty now, their contents having been offloaded and positioned in the yard like a vast staging ground. All hands were busy about their appointed tasks, several opening the crates and boxes, some were watering and feeding the horses, over there was Nithercott, who looked to be paying the wagon-masters, several of the boys were coiling ropes into neat piles and stowing them in camp.

A party of sailors was wrestling with what looked to be a vast, dark wardrobe as Martin stopped his cart as close to Mr. Higgins’ kitchen as he could. His way was checked by the carriage, which was drawn right up beside the cookfire.

Martin made his way around it in an attempt to find Higgins, and sure enough, he was there by the fire, in as clean an apron as ever he could muster. He had a little silver tray with a cup of coffee and two hard boiled eggs, and was offering it to a young man in a crisp naval lieutenant’s uniform. The young lieutenant took the coffee and looked across it with disdain at the approaching Martin. Mr. Higgins muttered to the young gentleman from behind, and in way of reply, the lieutenant exclaimed, “Ah! The pub man.” and with a dismissive sweep of his hand he continued, “You may place the beer over there.”

“Begging your pardon sir,” Martin interjected, “I wonder if I might be allowed to borrow a few of your men to unload the barrels?”

The young lieutenant looked pained, “I am certain you would never intentionally give offence, but I am the son of the third Duke of Grafton. Lord William Fitzroy, only recently assigned to His Majesty’s Frigate Acasta.”

“Begging your pardon again my lord.” Martin gave a little nod of the head and immediately stopped making direct eye contact.

Lord Fitzroy turned to see what the sailors were about in an attempt to ascertain which ones were the least busy, then called out in a voice that was quite accustomed to making itself heard, “Philips, Miller, Thomas, Nithercott! Lay along to the horse cart there and fetch down those barrels! Lively now!”

The four men met Martin at the back of the cart and after they had gotten the first of the barrels down, Martin found himself beside Nithercott. 

“Is his Lordship the new master of Purvis Lodge?” he quietly inquired of the sailor as they heaved down the second barrel.

“Oh no sir,” Nithercott replied, but stopped when he looked over the barrel toward the young lieutenant and found him glowering at them as they worked. Nithercott no longer felt at his ease to answer any questions and they continued to work silently until the task was completed.

Purvis Lodge part IV

Part IV

When Mr. Martin arrived two days later, it was early morning, and the sailors were all down by the road singing and swinging scythes to cut the overgrown lawn. He stopped the horse cart in the shade of a copse of trees along the road and watched them, it being an exceptionally efficient operation. Ten men were spread out in a line, and would swing their scythes in unison near the end of each verse, 

Safe and sound and HOME again

Let the waters ROLL jack

Two men were by the old gate grinding the age and corrosion off several extra blades, and the youngest sailors, only boys really, were gathering the fresh cut grass in their arms in great bunches and carrying it up toward the house. 

One of the boys was gathering grass near him and Martin called out to him over the low stone wall, “Wherever did they find so many scythes?”

The toe-headed boy turned and squinted, the sun being full in his face, “On account they was in the ol’ barn sir.” he said.

Martin urged his horse onward and up the path to Purvis Lodge, stopping near Mr. Higgins’ outdoor kitchen once again with his cart full of beer. The sailors had all the empty barrels gathered there for him to take back to the Plow.

“Good morning Mr. Higgins.” Martin offered as he got down out of the cart, and for the life of him he thought he heard Higgins offer something to the effect of a reply he could nearly understand. 

Higgins brought Martin a cup of coffee and made, what Martin could only interpret as a friendly face. The old sailor spoke, and Martin only understood the final slurred word, which seemed to be “SIR”. Higgins’ statement had the intonation of a question about it, and the old fellow looked at him, eyebrows raised, expectant for an answer, but Martin found himself quite at a loss.

After a brief pause, each man looked about to see if they could find Nithercott, but he was nowhere to be seen. One of the boys arrived with a parcel of long grass from the front lawn under his arm and deposited it on an ever growing pile near the outdoor kitchen. Higgins motioned for the boy to come over and held on to the lad’s shirt collar as he spoke to him.

When the old fellow was done, the boy turned to Martin, knuckled his brow in way of a naval salute, and translated.

“Mr. Higgins’ compliments sir, and he thanks you for the beer…” Higgins corrected the youth by way of a nudge, “...for the fine beer sir, he also wishes to know if you would be agreeable to the men coming into the village a few at a time to take some of their meals at your establishment?”

“Oh!” replied Martin, “Oh yes certainly, I should be quite agreeable to that.”

“Oh thank you sir!” The lad cried spontaneously, “We shall be much obliged to you sir. We’ll be on our best manners and won’t break up the furniture or nothin’.”

Higgins shoved the lad back toward his duty, and the boy was halfway down the lawn when he called exuberantly back over his shoulder with a wave, “Thank you so very much sir!”

Over the course of the next few days, the sailors would wander into Stoke for the evening and have a meal at the Plow. It was never the entire group, usually around four or five of them, and never the same group twice, almost like small shore leave parties being allowed away from a ship. They were always well behaved, almost as if they were on duty. Martin noted that the only unpleasant one was old Higgins, but then surmised that perhaps he only seemed so due to his rough way of speech and the fact that no one outside of his group could understand him.

Purvis Lodge part III

Part III

The arrival of the sailors at nearby Purvis Lodge had been all anyone in the village near the great house at Stoke had wanted to talk about, and it made Mr. Martin quite the celebrity with the surrounding shopkeepers.

From where had they come? Upon what ship had they served? Who was their Captain?

Martin had very few answers for them, but every conversation was rife with speculation. He told them the little bit that he knew, but it was shockingly little for the gossip-mongers to work with. 

After the allotted three days, Martin was once again at the reins of the horse cart and on his way to the lodge to deliver his two barrels of beer. Even from a great way off, he could hear the familiar sound of hammers and mallets striking wood. Upon arrival, he saw that the sailors had put together a mill where they were fashioning timbers and planks out of the trunks of English Oak trees they had felled on the property. The men were covered in wood shavings and the wood dust from the saws, and the shavings were so thick upon the ground that it looked as though it had snowed! The branches too small to mill were cut into firewood by the boys and stacked in great piles along the side of the barn out back.

Mr. Higgins’ outdoor kitchen had grown into a sizable operation. He stood in a pile of feathers as he picked a chicken clean, he laid it on a rough hewn table with a number of other birds and wiped his hands upon his dirty apron. Higgins tipped his hat to Martin and then whistled and gestured to some nearby sailors to get their attention. Mr. Nithercott, glistening with sweat from hewing logs was among the group that heaved the barrels down. When he was done, Higgins motioned to him and spoke in his unintelligible manner. Nithercott turned to Martin to translate.

“Mr. Higgins desires to purchase two more barrels and wonders if they might be delivered in two days time?”

“Oh heavens, I’m afraid I’m all out of the table beer sir!” Martin replied, “It would seem you have nearly drunk me dry, ha ha!”

Higgins and Nithercott looked at each other with near panic in their faces. Martin caught the glance and in an effort to assuage their fears added, “I do have three barrels of small beer left that I would happily sell you at 10 shillings a piece.”

Higgins nodded his agreement and looked relieved that they wouldn’t have to resort to water alone.

“I have a few more barrels brewing back home,” Mr. Martin added in way of anticipation, “and it should be ready by the week’s end.”

“Are they spoken for? Because if they ain’t, we should be much obliged to you sir if you would sell them to us.” Nithercott said as he pulled out his little purse again to offer up advance payment.

Purvis Lodge part II

Part II

The next day, Martin carried the two barrels up to the old place, he hadn’t been there for years, but already he could tell that there had been a good deal of stonework repaired and a new roof put upon it. The old Lodge was beginning to look habitable again and the sailors were removing the carpets in teams of two and airing them in the sunshine as he pulled up.

An older sailor, who was busy about a cookfire, took a pot full of coffee off the flame and set it aside. Martin caught a better look at the fellow and noticed that the right side of the man’s face looked as though he had suffered a great blow, it was scarred and crushed in a similar manner of an eggshell. His eye was covered with a patch, and all the teeth on the right side of his mouth were missing. Martin approached him in regard to the barrels of beer, but when the sailor spoke, he was not able to understand him. His voice was gruff and he seemed barely able to form the words in his mouth.

“That’s Mr. Higgins,” Nithercott approached the two after having deposited his carpet upon the lawn, “He’s hard to understand on account he ain’t got no tongue.”

Higgins gestured to a spot near the sailor’s little camp and a group of men went about fetching the barrels off Martin’s cart. It was as neat a little camp as he had ever seen, the sailors had laid out several small canvas tents in a tight line in front of the house, and Mr. Higgins worked at a little kitchen at the end of the row that they had designed from some loose stones and boards found about the place.

Higgins exchanged incoherent words with Nithercott, who seemed to have no trouble understanding, “Mr. Higgins would like to know if you would be agreeable to deliver two more of them barrels in three days’ time? We get awful thirsty sir.”

Martin agreed that he could do just that, and with the prompting of Higgins, Nithercott paid for the next delivery in advance. Higgins brought Mr. Martin coffee in a delicate cup and saucer which he drank with gratitude as the men began to remove furniture from the house and arrange it in the tall grass.

The sailors sent the boys down the drive with axes, and they were clearing away unsightly brush by the road as Martin drove his horse cart back toward the village.

Purvis Lodge part I

"Haye Park might do," said she, "if the Gouldings would quit it -- or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Purvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful."

Jane Austen

Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 50

Part I

After a number of years, Purvis Lodge found itself once again with a tenant. 

The place had been vacant ever since the previous owner’s passing at a very advanced age, and with no children unto whom to leave the old pile, it fell into a sad state of disrepair. Initially, there had been a good deal of interest in the estate, but all the potential buyers seemed frightened off by the decrepit state of the house and furnishings along with the dreadful attics. The oldest part of the house had been built in the 15th century, and the most recent additions and improvements were done in the earliest part of the last century.

The estate itself was lush and green, very happily situated between Haye Park and Stoke, and with no one to hunt the grounds, the overgrown shrubbery teemed with game of every sort.

The first signs of activity at Purvis Lodge came in the way of a cart of workmen ambling down the road past Haye Park. The driver stopped and bid the Gamekeeper there good morning and asked if this was in fact the road that lead to the Lodge. When the gamekeeper confirmed that it was said road, the driver turned to one of his workmen and said, “And see, didn’t I tell you it was?” 

That afternoon, the Gamekeeper informed Mr. Goulding, the Master of Haye-Park, of the encounter, which was passed to Mrs. Goulding over supper that night. The next afternoon, word of the encounter had found its way to all the nearby neighbors of quality.

A fortnight later, a large wagon full of shingles along with a team of roofers was espied passing through the village of Stoke headed toward the old Lodge. This elicited a great deal of comment among the shop owners. Had the old place been purchased? Did anyone know who the new owner might be?

But the sight that excited the most speculation was about a week later when two dozen sailors passed through Stoke on foot. They were a mixed lot of well-dressed men and boys, each one carried a large ditty bag and many carried work boxes full of tools. They all stopped at the local tavern, a tidy little place known as ‘the Plow’, to have a meal at midday. They packed the place full, and Mr. Martin, the owner of the establishment, had to bring in several chairs from his own rooms in the back to accommodate so many men. 

Mr. Martin was heard to report some time later that he was struck by the prodigious good manners of the men and that they hardly uttered a single oath the entire time they were there. When they were finished, Mr. Martin noted that so many sailors seemed terribly far from the sea and asked them in the most congenial manner where they might be headed.

One of the sailors, who was a very well dressed fellow with a long queue wrapped in a red ribbon, introduced himself as Mr. Nithercott and confirmed Martin’s suspicions when he replied, “Purvis Lodge”.

Nithercott pulled out a small purse and inquired if he might be able to purchase two barrels of table beer, as advertised on Mr. Martin’s sign for 15 shillings a piece, to be delivered to the Lodge at his earliest convenience. 

Lord Nelson and the Polar Bear

Bryan Austin as Admiral Lord Nelson at the Acasta dinner at the 2017 Jane Austen Festival in Louisville, KY. Lord Nelson entertains guests with a tale of one of his boyhood adventures!

Ashore with Friends

Today's post penned by S. Diatz 

who portrays our Ship's Purser N. Armitage

"..as we were encamped for a while, to tend to ship's business on dry land, I renewed my friendship with Mr Alan Spencer..who visited, and brought some cooling hard cider, with him. It made a few hours musing, pass by quickly, until some proper evening's entertainment beckoned him and his charming wife, to the playhouse, in town..A splendid couple they are, and a boon to know them..". 

"..the always-charming Mrs Spencer, attended a fine evening's entertainment, that next night, with her husband, in town..where only the best of folks congregated. I was fortunate to attend, as well, but was relegated to the 'gaming salon', pursuing the dice and card tables..".

Nicholas Armitage, RN, Portsmouth, England, July 1805.

The Purser and the Captain

Today's post penned by S. Diatz 

who portrays our Ship's Purser N. Armitage

"..this day, our frigate, HMS 'Acasta', was given command to a new captain, Sir James Robt. Rehme, K.B. His stirring address was very inspiring and his words resonated to the entire crew. Many of them were very hopeful of 'prize money' that can be won, 'for those sailors and ships that are bold, disciplined, intrepid and do their duty'. 

As 'Acasta's' purser, I was heartened he relayed his faith that I would keep our vessel..'well stocked with quality victuals and clothing, going forward'.." 

-Nicholas Armitage, RN, Portsmouth

The Viscountess

Today's post penned by S. Diatz 

who portrays our Ship's Purser N. Armitage

"..away from the glittering ballroom, in the 'gaming salon', as that long elegant evening progressed, the play at the dice-table became very intense..and the young Viscountess hazarded a small fortune in the stakes. Each succeeding cast was more costly to her ladyship.. she would then be forced to tender a hefty sum, in a 'draft upon her bankers', to Mr Armitage, who had much more experience and skill, at those gaming tables of Town.." 

"..after the long evening of gaming..when Viscountess 'G' had lamented her leaving the ballroom, for the gaming salon..she ruefully tendered her heavy 'note of hand', to Mr Armitage. Lesson learned ..that the 'safety of the dance-floor' should never be taken lightly, when skilled gamesters abound..at an evening's entertainment.."

'The Grand Ball', held at The Pendennis Club, Mayfair, London,