[Crandall] Fryeday the 8th of January, 1802
I was awokened by a frightening racquet perforated by Schrieks & since it was as darksome as Hades in our Habitation all I could see was Varietal Shape’s writhing in the murky lite untill I descried the Form of the Searess battling against some other Humanoid Shapes & I soon could discern that the schreiking was emanating from her. Leaping to my Feat I accosted the Shapes that was accosting our Orackularess & I saw that they was attempting to pry her Babe out of her Arms, while mean while there was Gonne who was fighting with two elderly Female Autochthones & I’m ashamed to say that they were getting the best of him. I was about to run one of the Searess’s assailants thru with my Sabre when in burst the Ruthenian who proclaimed, “Hold yer Hand, Captain, hold yer Hand! They come in Piece! For they come to adore their Salvager!” And held my Hand I did & the Ruthenian then remonstrated with the Autochthones who was trying to extract the howelling Alexandros from his Mother’s Armz. The Autochthones finally relinquenced their Grasp & cooler heads finally seaming to have prevailed we all sat down for a colloquy in the flickering lite of the Taperz being clutched by a few exhausted looking Yeungling’s who was present. It turned out that the Principal Assailant’s had been none other then the Particoloured Fellow’s who serve as Wholey Men amongst these People, & their Fasces appeared most ghoulish in the flickering lite as they passionately described how they had put three & three together & inferred that here was the Fulfillment of their Prophesy lying before them in swattling clothes, plane as Day, the predicted Salvager of their People in the Flesh, the promised Half Mann, the Half Devine, Half Mortale Deliverer whom they had long been awaiting. This causationed me to look askance over at the Ruthenian Sailour as well as the Priestess—& I then axxed just how these pour simple Folk had gotten wind of the Rumour that this Babe had been godspawned so to speak, & the Twain o’ Them exchanged glaunces betokening Gilt till finally the Ruthenian said, “Captain, I spilled the Bean’s. Go ahead & crucify me if you want. I couldn’t keep the Secret any longer. For when the Searess hear began to explain every Thing to me—I don’t know how to express it—from the Void some Thing exquisite bloomed with in me & I soddenly discovered that here was what I was looking for all along.” I could not ascertain weather he was in ernest or not & I cursed our Fate for finding our Selves reliant upon an irresponsible drunken liar as this here Ruthenian was & as if that wasn’t bad enuff here he was a Mystick as well. But seeing as we had no choice I decided to maintain a practickal staunce regarding Matter’s as they currantly stood so as not to engender1 our Expedition’s Gaols2. So ignouring the Ruthenian’s spiritualistick blather I then cut to the Quick of the Matter by enquiring just what the Autochthone’s had meant by busting in in the Dead of Nite as they had trying to wrest the Babe from his ritefull Mother. They replicated that they having all ready lost one Salvager before they was not about to loose an Other One—they were referring to Hu of coarse—& they added that they hoped we would sympathise with them seeing as the Fate of their Nation as it were was resting upon the Shoulder’s of this Babe & that they hoped that he would abide with them not as a Hostage but as a Revered Guest who shall enjoy the Best of Every Thing they have on offer & shall be their new Kinglette. Which was exactly what I did not want to hear—for setting up a rival Childe King in apposition to the Noemises’s She Emperouress would surely sew Dischord on these farflung Shores where we was doomed to exist the Rest of the Winter. Disfortunately I was unable to shut the Priestess up who immediately said, “Finally some Recognition! Do you hear, Alexandros, you’re going to be Basileos! Basileos!” “You Foole!” I erupted at her. “Do you seriously intend to humour these Autochthone’s who are obviously grasping at Straw’s as a Result of their Dispair & install you’re Childe as an infantile monarck on these farflung Shorez?! I knew you was prone to considerable Bout’s of Irrationality but I never would of suspected that you was capable of such Enormitie’s as these! Hubris doesn’t even begin to describe it!” “Captain, you’ve never understood the Godz nor genuine Mystery nor would you even if it was flung strait in your Face as is happening rite now.” I then told her be that as it may there was Zeroe Chance that she & her Sun3 would be staying with the Nulubez’s for who know’s what they’re True Intention’s is. Had they not just freshly tried to abduct her Childe with out her Consent in the Depths of the Nite? “But my Deer Captain,” she respondated, “they have relented which demonstrate’s their Innocency, & need I remind you that I am not one of your Subordinate’s but an Independent Entity amongst ye, free to do as I wish as per the Dictation of the Amerikaan Constitution.” I replyed that she was quite correct & so we would be leaving her to her own Devices so I bade the Ruthenian & Gunn to pack up their Things because we was heading fourthwidth back to the Forte. But then the Ruthenian Sailor said, “I’m staying, Captain. The Trajectory of me & this Boy Childe & his Mum no longer coincides with the Trajectory of your Corpse. No Hard Feeling’s I hope.” I then explicated unto him that as an Employee of the United State’s he was bound to do as I say but then he reminded me that technically this was his “Trial Internship” & that no Contract had as yet been drawn up let alone signed. To which I had no argumentation to furnish & so I then instructed Gonne to stay behind to at least keep a toehold in the going’s on here while I headed back to Forte Melacholie, instructing him to return unto the Forte a Week from today to file a complete Report & in the mean time to keep his Witt’s about him & not get his Head turned by the Insanity which was sure to swirl about him. It was a wet, mizerable walk, the Skye cloaked in grey, my Thoughts in parfect synchronicity with the Whether, cursing my Decision to ever visit the Tabernackle in my Home Town at the behest of my Mother. The Tide had receded, the Water way distant in the East, & coming upon the Haystax I saw they was now accesible by Land & I felt an urge to explore them this oppertunity being currantley afforded me. Winding round the largest of them I was surprised to find a ruff hewen set of steppes which was slippery as Hades being coated with algae & seeweed as it was & I nearly busted my Head open in the Attempt thereof. But gaining the Acne4 by clambering on all Fourz up to the Top I found an Area of ruffly two square Anglickan Yard’s which was some what flatsome & afforded One a wunderfull view of the Ocean ahead & the Land behind. As I stood there the Gray Waterz of perturbed Oceanus stretching out in to for ever & the leaden Skye meeting it there I felt authentickally alive, dare I say all most Immortal, & I decided to spend moore Time here since no one was expecting me back any Way. So taking out the Snack I had packed for my Self I sat down upon the Rock & partook of it all the while gayzing out upon the distant Deep, an occasional Gaul5 hovering o’er me & cawing, the Wind genital6 & the Rein having seized7. I fell in to a Reverie regarding the Syren Call of Beauteous, Dangerous Nature & it’s affect upon Sole’s like mine, & what’s moore my Mind drifted to my Mother whom I did not know if she was yet alive or not, of the Friend’s I’d left behind way back West & how oft they may or may not cast an idyll random Thought my Way in Mamory of me, of the Strong Urge I’ve all ways had to be of some worth to Humanitie in the Aggregate, of my many fault’s & how I must constantly strive to convert them in to at least Princely Failing’s, of what a Treasure Existence is & yet how disorientated & dissied One can become amongst it’s Prismlike Gyration’s, of how the Mad Mann & the High Priest, the Criminal & the Just are laid low by Death at last in Poetick Equitie, of how the World (i.e. Societie) is too much with us much to our Detriment’s, of the Depravity & Brilliance of Humanoid Being’s, of how we is perpetually Propelled by the Force of Circumstance’s yet cling to the Ideal of Absolut Autonomie, of how fractious & malcontented Mann is, so much so that as Daniel Kaye say’s even Variety gets olde after a while, of how the Line betwixt Renoun & Infamie is ever shifting, of weather or not it’s better to classify & define as much as possible or weather it’s better to just leave things nebulous, of how every Body fancies them Selves just One brilliant idea away from Immense Riches while mean while Reel Life passes them by, of how every Generation has it’s own Specifick Neuroses to grappel with, of how One must supply one’s Self with a Level Mind no matter what the Circumstance’s lest One pay the Pennultimate Pryce, &c., &c. And before I was well aware of it the day soone begun to waxx darksome & so I thought I had better recollect my Self & decend from the Stoney Throne upon which I sat & make my way back to Reason. But disfortunately the Waterz unbeknownst to me had returned & as I made my first Steppes down the Ancient Staircase I saw that there was now a goodley stretch of Liquiditie between me & the Maine Land. On my way down the Rock which I decided to call Centinel Rock I slipped on some seeweed & was flung downward’s in to about Two Anglickan Feet’s worth of Water. Recovering my Self sufficientley I made it back to Dry Land & wended my Way northword’s alongst the Shore & then hiked up Pandergas Creeque to Forte Meloncholie. But it being by now obscure as Hades & the Gate being shut I hollered out to our Watch Men that it was me but I baffelingly received no Response. So I knocked forcefully upon the Gate & like wise no Reciprocation did I receive so naturally I immediately feared the Wurst—that a Massacration had transpired & that the Bulk of our Corpse had been slaughtered either thru Trechery or else the sodden onset of Disease. In Desparation I kept wrapping upon the Door till I finally heard a wraddeling8 on the Other Side & it slowly started to open, in Reaction to which I withdrew my Sabre so as to defend my Self should Fowl Play be a Foot9. And ’twas there illuminated in the dimsome lanthorne lite that I beheld the grimacing Visage of Danielle Key, & I berated him for not answering me rite away but he then enunciated some Words very quietly & raspilly while at the same time pointing at his throat, which led me to believe that he had lost his Voice. Which manifested it’s Self to be just exactly the Case. Upon entering the Confine’s of our newly erected Forte I instantaneouslie stripped my Self of my wettened clothes & ensconsced my Self in my Bare Robe gifted to me by the Miarhpe’s, an Autochthonickal People I deerly miss & esteem much moore highly then those we currantly find our Selves entangled with. Yet an unbiased Judge could scarcely blame them for their Irregularities since after all all those in their Prime both mentally & fisickally have been layed low while both the Unripe & Overripe are left to run Things as best they can. My Comrade Moray whom I had awakened began to interrogate me about what had went on & where the Other’s was, &c., &c., but telling him I was too tired to answer his queereyes & that we would discuss Matter’s in the Mourning I soon became enlocked in the Iron Embrace of Morpheos.
[Murray] Whens-Day the 6th of January, 180210
My Co-Captain Captain Crandall, the Priestess & Babe, Gone, & the Ruthenian Sailor-Man set-off for the Nulubez-Village this morning. Mean-while work continuated a-pace on our Fort. We are wondrous-eager to finish our Lodging’s because our Tent’s are starting to dis-integrate & they no-longer suffice to keep-out the Rain. Went out a-hunting in the after-noon & Herakles followed me the whole-way. Kind of creeped me out be-cause he kept his Distance the whole-time & when I tried to beckon him to come closer he would dis-appear in-to the Forest only to re-appear later-on. Shot a Rabbit & a Silv’ry-Beaver which the Garter-Snake Woman fried-up for Dinner. Sat next to Jean during Dinner trying to make some small-talk but she re-buffed me. In-fact she actually moved-away from me in-front of every-body as soon as I sat-down next to her. Later-on I cornered her to axe why she was treating me like a Criminal. Why she did not deign to even talk to me like a regular Humane-Being. To which she replied: “You know why? Because Guyz don’t know how to compartamentalise! Because they all-ways mis-construe friendliness. You give them an Anglickan-Inch & they take an Anglickan-Mile—that’s why!” Have to admit she has a pointe but her Word’s wounded me wondrous-much.
[Murray] Thors-Day the 7th of January, 1802
The Captains’s & Priestess’s Lodging’s was completed to-day late in the Day. But feeling wondrous-antsy being cooped-up with-in these Wall’s I once-againe traipsed-out for a Hunting-Spree along-with Delancey. Interrogated him as to why he had not yet produced his promised Poem eulogizing our Arrival at the Great-Eastern Ocean. And with the sorriest-expression you could ever wish for on the Face of you’re Worst-Enemy he confessed that he had not yet writ not one Line. That he was now facing Writer’s-Blockage of Epick-Proportion’s—an Adversary he had never had to face before & admittedly regarded as but an Old Haus-Wife’s Tale. For his Compositions had all-ways come to him in Sudden-Fits transmitted straight from the Muses to his Brain to his Hand & finally to the Paper. Of-course he’d had to occasionally-revise but the Pith & Marrow of his Compositions had all-way’s come to him less or more fully-formed like Athena from out o’ the Head of All-Mighty Zeus. But here he was now bereft of Inspiration, rendered utterly-impotant, his Pen dangling limply in his Hand, poised above the Paper but never to meet it. May-be it was the Weather or some-thing like that, I suggested. He respondated that that could very-well be but for his parte he feared that 2 Heart-Break’s coming fast upon the Heelz of th’Other had broke his Spirit for goode11. To which he added that additionally all his Favourite-Poet’s had quit composting12 at about his Age & that may-be it was just his Time to cede the Gauntlet to the Next-Generation. Told him to not be so hard on his-self & that as a special-allowance I would slip him a Dram or Twain when we got back so as to kick-start his Muse. But after we had returned gameless & trying to make-good on my Promise with-out attracting the Notice of the Other’s I found he had all-ready succumbed to Sleep so I didn’t bother to awaken him.
[Murray] Frye-Day the 8th of January, 1802
Both the Kayes woke-up voice-less this Morning. Some of us is hoping their condition remains permanent. Even tho Progression waxes wondrous-fast on our Fort a gloom has been cast over us due to the Dampness & Greyness. Herakles or Pseudo-Herakles rather has a strange-way about him. Refuses the Men’s Affection’s & all-ways sits back keeping his Distance & staring at us. And should you approach him he skulks-away in-to the Woodz. Delancy & East-Broadway went-out hunting & brought back no-thing. It drissled lightly all the day & there was a steady drip-dripping from the black wet Bough’s all about us. We all packed in-to the Captain’s Lodging’s since we are fewer than usual, some sleeping on the floor, &c., &c., for our Tent’s have clean dis-integrated.
Illustration by De Robles
Endanger?
Goals, presumably.
Son
Acme
Gull, presumably.
Gentle, presumably.
Rain having ceased
Rattling
Foul play be afoot
The Journals now jump back two days to the day of Crandall’s embassy to the Nulubezes.
In the margins, in an unknown hand, is written Chubbz & the Norsemann.
Composing, presumably.