The History Major instinct to add footnotes to my historical fiction novels because I feel guilty using my Creative License and am afraid no one will go read the Author’s Note at the end...

You may already have a post for this, and if so, just say and I’ll dive for it- but what all do we know about drillburst’s lore? (As shortened and narrowed down, if possible?)

I feel like I do but tumblr isn’t helping me find it, so I’ll just rewrite it here 😆 here’s the full lore post, which is actually a wee bit out of date now that I have new lore—but anyway now for the TLDR! Warning it is still long even though I narrowed stuff down. Sorry lol

Drillburst started out as a cold-constructed mining unit, one of four models made for an operation on a dwarf planet known as Velux. His serial number and hence his original designation was 432882, but after mysteriously self combusting and causing a nearly lethal cave in, he was given the name “Drillburst” by his peers. This mysterious explosion is because of his at the time uncontrolled outlier ability of self combustion, which destroys his outer frame and almost renders him down to his protoform. After being rebuilt and deployed back into the mines, Drillburst would continue to work until the base of operations was attacked, forcing all of the miners to fight, flee, or die trying. Drill managed to escape Velux, but found himself hopping from planet to planet facing hardships along the way, including violence and food insecurity. He was forced to toughen himself up in order to defend himself, no longer the bright eyed miner he once was. This newly hardened attitude caught the attention of a mercenary he met at a bar, and he was soon recruited into the mercenaries, which is where he would be for the vast majority of the war. During this time, he would meet a group of friends, become an expert sharpshooter and close combat fighter, and most importantly learn how to control his outlier ability so he could detonate himself on command. However, one request he was paid to do by a client was to participate in Skyquake’s attack on Garrus 9, and Drillburst agreed unknowing of what would happen. When Overlord came in and turned the whole operation around, Drillburst attempted to flee but was caught by other Decepticons and thrown in prison as a deserter. Soon enough he became a gladiator in the brutal pit fights overlord would throw, becoming the rarely-seen pit champion after successfully eliminating twelve other fighters. This meant he faced off against overlord himself, and after giving him the choice to fight him or take his own life, drill chose to fight him and promptly got beaten within an inch of his life. It was only because Drillburst self destructed at the last moment that he could escape, as Overlord had lost his grip on him the moment he exploded. Falling through a hole in the wall to the outside, Drill would use the last of his energy to burrow underground, eventually emerging undernourished a ravine and causing a cave in that buried him alive. He soon fell into hibernation after that, where he would be for the next year or two until the events of LSOTW happen and a group of Autobots (not the wreckers but some who come way after them) discover him and bring him to safety. After rebuilding and recovering him, they drop Drill off on postwar cybertron, where he gets an apartment in Praxus and decides to become a musician. He starts out as a simple street performer, but now he sings on small stages in clubs and bars. It’s a great coping mechanism for all the trauma he’s gotten over the years.

I could keep going and kinda give notes of what happens in the future like meeting fort max and Aftertouch and his V frame but that’s still in development, so maybe later. Hope this helps though anon!

❤️ Happy WorldBuilding Wednesday! ❤️

What are your cities or towns like? Feel free to talk about the layouts or the people or the architecture, etc. and to talk about more than one if you'd like!

Tori how did you know

I've literally been brainstorming Shapeshifter's city all day. I stared at topographical maps of various port cities this morning for way too long lmao. Sidenote: maybe I should actually name the city instead of just calling it 'the city'?

Anyway, at the moment I have two original cities/towns in Shapeshifter:

'the city' which Cryptid gets mad about every time I describe as "a combo of New York, Seattle, Portland, and Gotham"

Perrin Falls - a small mountain town in the mid/west of Wyoming situated uncomfortably close to a Fae gate. Fun fact: me and the husband had one of our rare argument about the naming and geographic placement of this town because he's from the county I chose for Perrin Falls (that was deliberate lol) and he has Opinions.

And since I'm working on the city, I may as well infodump here~

The city is technically on the Pacific Northwest coast, but I refuse to actually give any legitimate geographic location. It's got a population of roughly 700k-800k, though with the metro area that bumps it up to over 3mil. The city started as a fur trading depot way back in the 1790's, and has always had some section of the population dedicated to smuggling and similar illegal activities. It slowly built it's way up from a small trading fort to a city of considerable size in the late 1800's due to it's convenient location: straddling a freshwater river that ran into a deep and naturally-protected bay. The original city was built above a warren of smuggler tunnels that saw regular use until the mid/late 1800's when a large part of the city burned to the ground, and city planners opted to grade parts of the city in an attempt to flatten some of the more steep areas. This destroyed some of the smuggler tunnels, but also buried parts of the city that had already been rebuilt, leaving a new layer of underground passageways for ne'er-do-wells to utilize. Many modern citizens of the city aren't even aware of these passages - though urban legends abound. Some brave souls venture down occasionally, but for the most part the underground belongs to the outcasts.

Life in the city is dark and damp. It rains roughly 330 days of the year, thanks to the mountains to the east creating a natural barrier for moisture rolling off the Pacific. Rain is usually light and misty, but occasionally a storm will roll in that turns the streets to rivers and chases even the most stubborn denizen inside. Most locals take the rain in stride - opting for water-resistant or magically charmed outerwear. To combat the dreariness of constantly-overcast skies, most businesses - and even the more outgoing residences - opt for bright neon signs and displays, and large awnings.

The city is most well-known for its statistically-large supernatural population; one of the largest in the United States. Roughly 15% of the population is supernatural - the large majority of these being shapeshifters of varying type. There are also an unusually large number of witches in the city, which only adds to the image of the city as one of the 'most magically charge population centers' in the States. Due to the fact that a distinct percentage of the population prefers to - or can only - exist at night, there is a very active and diverse nightlife. It's not uncommon to find events that are only held at night - such as markets and festivals - as well as businesses that opt to have 'night hours' as well as 'day hours'. (Unfortunately, even though a 6th of the city is supernatural, there are very few police precincts that will hire a supernatural, so many laws are skewed towards the mundane citizens.)

Economically, the city thrives on it's active port and trade capabilities, as well as a booming tourist sector. It also houses a large life sciences and medical research sector, with many companies focused on merging technology and magic. But everyone knows that it's still the criminal element of the city that holds the most power, the most wealth. Some flaunt their power, daring the (often understaffed and under-equipped) justice system to do something about them. Some prefer to work behind the scenes, buying out politicians and CEOs and chiefs of police to ensure they can continue to exist unmolested.

My current goal with the city is to make an actual map of it. Mostly just the overall geography and major sectors of it, so that I can better describe the important parts lol. As you can see, I am... very obsessed with the worldbuilding.

this is the best paragraph of anything ive ever written

Adventures were rough, too: so far they hadn’t managed much success together. The first time they’d stepped outside the doors of that box had gone okay, but with two weeping angels to trap they hadn’t spent much time looking at each other. The next one had been your standard space/sea/star base fare, with Jack and the Doctor stepping out of the TARDIS into the airship-turned-repurposed-seabase, Fort Duquesne (the fourth since the original — first rebuilt in 2097 on the site of the original as a museum’s reproduction project, destroyed in a completely unrelated battle during the Neostate Rebellion less than a year later, then rebuilt in efforts to prevent flooding of the area in the same war, rebuilt again on New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New Earth a few centuries later, and then slightly over a decade later the airship had been commissioned, though no one was ever quite clear why it had been named Fort Duquesne since it was very much an airship rather than a fort at the time it had been originally constructed. Of course, once it was decommissioned as an airship, the name did end up working out very well for them indeed). Unfortunately, this adventure hadn’t gone very well — a time paradox had resulted in them being unable to leave for several weeks, and they were even less well adjusted than the crew, who had been trapped there for nearly ten years under a mild time loop (time continued, but objects “respawned” as if in a video game). Both of them retreated hard into the work of trying to fix it, but everything they did got reset approximately every thirteen days due to the loop, and since neither would talk to the other, it took them a while to realize that Jack had set off a very slow pressure valve leak that had been impending for about two years due to spacial stress caused by the loop’s reset process, and that would have killed them all had the base’s captain (originally second-in-command, but the original captain had died shortly before the start of the loop, setting off the events that caused the loop in the first place) not gotten entirely fed up with the two of them and quite literally locked them in a room with nothing but each other for about two and a half hours until the two of them got it out of their system. None of the base crew was quite sure what happened in that room (the first thing the Doctor had done was dismantle every security feed in the room in order to give him something to do that wasn’t look at or talk to Jack) but the two would later emerge with a black eye (Jack) and a bloody nose and sleeves (the Doctor), and there had been quite a fair bit of yelling that nobody had wanted to listen to, causing one crew member to traverse the entire outer base with a mop and bucket in order to avoid hearing it, in the process discovering the leak at about the two-hour-and-twelve-minute mark. The Doctor and Jack only got to even take credit for this one because when the crew member had reached the captain to alert her of the problem, she had been letting the two of them out of the room. The Doctor had immediately perked up at the mention of this, said something about “spacial displacement causing erosion of physical structures” or some such, and immediately rushed off, dragging Jack by the hand out to the leak. They ended up using his vortex manipulator to alter the spacio-temporal distortion that had caused the record to skip, so to speak, by physically holding his arm up to the time fissure, and it did not escape Jack’s notice that they did not let go of his hand all the way through the process of fixing it.

The Stories Within the Walls

by: Amanda Isabelle O. Sagnit

I have been in Intramuros for about three months now, not five because I wasn't in the Philippines when the academic year started; and I can say that it is a very interesting place. It's like a city within the city, with its own set of rules and regulations. The streets are narrow and winding, with many stone steps leading to the ancient buildings that line the streets. The buildings themselves are all very old, built centuries ago by the Spanish colonizers. I've visited the place several times and have seen the sights and the people there before when I was I child, and there are many things that make it unique, but one thing stands out above all others: its history. The old city of Manila is one of the oldest cities in Asia, and because of that, there are a lot of historical sites within Intramuros. There are also many museums that showcase some of these sites and their cultural significance.

I wasn't sure before how long this area has existed as an actual city, but I now know that it was used as a fort during some point in time. It's hard to tell where one building ends and another begins because they're so closely packed together—and because they're all so old! The only way you can tell them apart is by looking at their colors: red ones are old; yellow ones are newer and newer still; blue ones are most recently constructed.

It's also quite easy to get lost here if you don't know what you're looking for. There isn't much signage or signs at all—just some historic markers scattered throughout Intramuros (or "Intramuros" as people call it). Intramuros is the old walled city of Manila. It is the oldest part of Manila, dating back to 1571 and being built upon the original fortifications of Manila. The walled city was built for defense purposes against foreign invasion. The Spaniards built it to be impenetrable to their enemies.

Intramuros is the name of Manila's old walled city. It has been around for over 500 years, and was built to protect the Spanish from Chinese pirates. Today, it is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the Philippines.

The walls were built from 1571-1635 by Jesuit missionaries. They were built as a defense against pirates and invaders from China, Japan and other countries. The original walls were destroyed by fire in 1734 and rebuilt by Manuel Lardizabal in 1854. There are more than 400 buildings within Intramuros that are at least 100 years old.

The area was heavily damaged during World War II bombings by American forces on December 8th, 1941. During this time there were 86 bomb explosions within Intramuros alone! Afterward many people lived in tents while they rebuilt their homes and businesses within Intramuros. The walls that surround Intramuros have their origins in a fortification built by Spanish conquistador Miguel López de Legazpi in 1571. The walls were made to protect Manila from outside invaders and keep out disease-carrying mosquitoes.

Intramuros was named after King Philip II of Spain, who ruled from 1556 to 1598. He had wanted to name it "Manila" (meaning "rich") because he thought that it would increase trade with other countries, but this never happened because the name was already taken by another city in China.

In 1616, Intramuros became an independent town and was renamed to Manila for short. It is well known for its Spanish colonial architecture with buildings dating back to the 17th century. Some of these buildings are still standing today and serve as tourist attractions in their own right.

It also has a rich history as well as a colorful culture that can be seen through its architecture, artworks and festivals.

It has many attractions, especially for tourists. One of them is Plaza de Roma, where there are two churches; San Agustin Church and Santo Domingo Church. Also, Intramuros has cemeteries with many tombs of Spanish conquistadors, including that of Miguel Lopez de Legaspi who founded Manila in 1571.

This city also has other museums and monuments like the National Museum of Fine Arts (formerly Museo Pambata) and Manila Metropolitan Theater which are located along Roxas Boulevard just outside Intramuros. There are also some other historical sites around Intramuros such as Fort Santiago, Fort Ilocandia, Fort Binagui and Intramuros Airport which all have an interesting history behind them too!

Intramuros is where Manila was born, and it is one of the best places in the Philippines where you can look back to our great history.

Don Rosa: “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros!” or City Slickers 3: The Crystal City

Saludos Amigos, the Ride of the Three Caballeros returns! After some time off to take care of other seasonal commissions and to finally get the life and times fo scrooge mcduck back on a steady pace, everyone’s three favorite chappies in snappy serapes are back for another go round.  This time i’ts back to comics one last time as we take a look at “The Magnificent Seven (Minus 4) Caballeros: which was the penultimate story from Duck Maestro Don Rosa, and as a result the final one set in present day, as while the next one would have a wraparound segment, it’s a flashback tiding up the one last bit of Scrooge’s past Rosa hadn’t clicked into place yet, and thus we’ll get to that eventually as part of life and times. And honestly it serves as a fittng and satisfying conclusion to Donald’s story. 

The geneisis of this one is rather simple in comparison to “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!”. Don Rosa REALLY enjoyed writing TTCRA, wanted to have another adventure with Donaldo and his boys, and given the previous story was a huge hit likely had no trouble convincing his publisher. And since he set the first story in Panchito’s home country of mexico, it only made sense to have the next story in Jose’s home country of Brazil. Adding to it Rosa specifically wanted to avoid using the amazon rainforest this go round, as to him pretty much every story involving Brazil focused on the massive and wonderful rainforest. And while a great setting, Rosa knew there was much more to the country and wanted to show it off. And to his credit.. he’s 100% right as i’ve seen dozens upon dozens of stories set in the rainforest but not nearly as many set ANYWHERE ELSE IN BRAZIL. If their lucky we get to see Rio, but that’s about it. So kudos to Rosa for wanting to display more of a beautiful country and show it had more to offer than merely it’s biggest attraction. As for what treasure they’d be after, the lost city of crystal stuck out to him, having been described in a goverment document that was so degraded when it was found there wasn’t much left to go on and searched for by a famous explorer who was the basis for indiana jones whose name I forgot but we’ll run into his name again later. So yeah not as much setup here and what tiny bit is left can be covered when we get to our villian. So with all that out of the way, let’s ride on!

We open with Scrooge firing Donald and throwing his ass out on the street, berating him for screwing up and then telling him to be back early tommorow to make up for his firing. Then Gladstone literally walks all over him becausae he’s a jackass, and Daisy then shrieks at donald for you know, being stuck on the floor, having messed up the shirt she ironed for him without.. actually you know asking for context, HITTING HIM, then telling him to pick her up for dinner at the ritz. 

It’s like this intro was perfectly designed in a lab to piss me off. All three of the characters who on a good day ar excellent but on a bad are outright monsters, at their worst, treating Donald like crap, i.e. the reason to call them monsters, and generally abusing him for flimsy reasons. And again Daisy HIT DONALD. No that’s not right, she shoryukened his ass! She upercutted him! God damn. And her just casually doing that is played for laughs. In a lesser Rosa story this would only get worst and be “oh haw haw”.. instead... to my delighted suprise.. this is all treated seriously. Yeah really. Instead of being treated for laughs like normal, and not being a dark enough work comedically to make it work like say It’s Always Sunny, Donald is seriously depressed, beaten down phsycially and mentlaly and when the boys, who’ve been present for all of this and tried to help him up off the ground, ask why he takes this.. the answer is pretty damn bleak. 

Just.. holy shit that’s dark.. and I applaud Rosa for not only recognizing this isn’t always funny, but for actually tackling it. And I will grant Donald being a butt monkey CAN be funny, especially when it’s caused by his own ego. It’s the basis of his entire career. It’s good stuff. My issue has been more that Rosa sometimes dosen’t get that either some aspects have aged poorly, even by the 90′s, and thus dosen’t adjust them or play them more for drama, sprinkling a bit of that in with the comedy. So to see him do that HERE, to acknowledge in some way his own faults and do something with them.. i’m very proud of him and it warms my heart that he could do something like this that shows he could grow and change, even SECONDS from the end of his career, but with no intention of ending his career at that point or even after finishing his next and last story. It just ended up happening that way and as such this story carries even more weight as for all intensive purposes, this is the final tale of Donald Duck for Don Rosa’s Barksian universe. This is the last big tale before whatever triggers Scrooge’s retirement, the last tale he wrote in the here and now. And while not perfect for some reasons we’ll get to from a character perspective? It’s a pretty good note to go out on. 

Anyways Donald somehow makes this SADDER by mentoing, when Huey, Dewey or Louie tries to make him smile that he hasn’t smiled in some time before sadly loping off to make their dinner before buying daisy’s. 

Yeah... I just.. I need a moment.... Here’s my asistant iwth an important message

Okay i’ve regained my composuer.. and yes I will be shwoing that off at every opportunity. I have generous friends. Now where were we? Ah yes with their uncle in a depression hole, can relate, they figure he needs a nice gift to get him out of it. The boys think he needs friends.. and of course the boys come to mind, though the fact their on the other end of the contient proves a problem.. but Huey, Dewey or Louie has a solution and takes the boys to the Woodchucks because of course they do> Their primary go to for anything is the guide which to be fair contains the entire sum of the world’s knowledge in a guidebook. 

So the boys, with the other two likely filled in on the way, plan becomes clear when they stop by Woodchuck HQ and talk to the guy in charge of the badge department, which ahs a fun acronym because of course it does, this is one of Rosa’s faviorite running gags and mine as well.. I just don’t have it in me stamina wise to type the whole thing out. Point is the boys ask that Donald be used as courier for a special shipment of badge’s to Rio. The authority guy is understandably a bit reluctant to give a non-woodchuck this duty, but the boys remind him that in a previous story, not sure if it’s barks or rosa’s, Donald apparently not only found the last remaning pieces of fort duckberg but saved them from the mill. As a result the Fort, which was the original HQ of the woodchucks until Scrooge threw them out, was apparently rebuilt. So the guy in charge is more than willing to not only give donald the duty, but an open ended plain ticket, i.e a vacation. The Nephews do have to guilt him a bit more to get donald a condsensed pamphlet based on the brazil chapter of the guidebook which at this point seems like overkill. Just.. buy him a guidebook boys. IT’s a bit much to ask that a portion of your heavily guarded and protected text be given to your uncle for a vacation and seems like a tad of a stretch but the gag, including the boys getting badges in guilt and convincing, makes it work. 

So after the boys set off to telegram the rest of the Cabs, we cut to donald arriving in rio, passing christ the redeemer on the way

The Rio Woodchucks greet donald and take the package for him, giving him new orders to go by cable car to the observation deck atop Sugar Loaf Mountain. This is a real mountain in Brazil and frustrated Rosa because he couldn’t find any pictures of what the station looked like in the 1950′s, despite as he put in his notes having eager fans from the region, researchers and other contacts try to find it, settling for having vintage cable cars pulling into modern stations he got from photos from said contacts. If I hadn’t said it before i’ll say it now the man is a BEAST when it comes to getting things acurate, only bending it if it helsp the story and still making sure his drawings are as accurate as possible. It’s one of Rosa’s most adimirable traits. 

Donald took a Donde, some form of streetcar there, hanging on the back and .. uh I have no words for this..

Donald Duck ran into a horse and it farted in his face. Just... why though. This horse naturally is Senior Marteniz, with Panchito currently being thrown out of a cable car for trying to put his horse in there which is fair. What isn’t is people having an issue with his hat. I mean.. people wear hats. I know it’s a bit big for the tight fit of the cable car but still it’s a bit weird to throw a strop about anywhere outside a theater or sports place where he’d be actively obstructing people’s view. And it appears to be the same weirdly crazy asshole.. Imean again the horse thing is resonable but calling it a “crazy hat” I mean yes it’s a big hat.. but ... you you do know mexico exists right? And sombreros? or other cultures at all you weirdly specific douche? 

At the top, after a quick and funny hat swap gag, Panchito reveals the triplets called him here.. as did Jose who assuemd it was  lovely senorita.. who uppercuts him. And it’s STILL more reasonable to uppercut some rando hitting on you, if not by much, than Daisy’s Domestic Abuse. Anyways the three put things together and Donald realizes via flashback the boys hoped his smile would return and said he’d have help. 

Donald, being utterly beaten down by life, apologizes.. but it turns out the boys needed this as much as he did. Jose’s night club career is flopping hard, with his agent unable to get him bookings and Panchito has barely scraped any money together for his ranch dream from last time. It’s a nice touch: That the boys , while having more exciting careers have just as much strife as Donald does and as much problem. It helps make them feel as real as donald, as characters with their own lives and adventures outside of him and their own wants and needs and it really helps the story come alive. Jose however has some suggestions to escape their blues. 

But Panchito suggests instead they go for some adventure and go diamond hunting in the plains of brazil, which the two agree to.. and Donald’s a big gung hoe about carving his way through human flesh.. just jesus man.. get a therapist. Your Ducktales counterpart did and he seems mildly well adjusted. So the adventure is on.. and they all toss their hats.. off a mountain. First thing on the provisoins list hats.  Before we head on I just wanted to point out even though most of my audience here is likely unaware the movie exists that this Comic honestly reminds me of the 1991 comedy City Slickers starring Billy Crystal, Daniel Stern and Bruno Kirby. If your struggling on the name Daniel Stern, think Marv from Home Alone. 

No.. the RIGHT marv. I may not be a huge fan of Home Alone but we respect Daniel sterns in this house. And yes if you didn’t know French Stewart played Marv in one of the sequels now you do. And i’m sorry you know that. 

There we go. Right Marv and Wrong Dad from Christmas story. Back on point City Slickers is a terrific comedy I finally saw a few weeks back about three friends all facing mid life crisises, with Billy Crystal being unsatisfied with his career and undsure WHY he does, Daniel Sterns having cheated on his shrewish wife with one of his employees whose also now pregnant, and Bruno Kirby being a ladies man whose faced with the prosepct of settling down, go for a weeks vacation to a cattle drive, as Brunos character tends to set up these trips but this time they actually need it. They encounter cows, assholes and a cowpoke named Curly. It’s pretty good. 

But yeah they both feel kinda similar, if with far less drama and crumbling marraiges on the cabs end because you know, this is for children. I’m pretty sure it’s just a concidence but given Rosa’s love of film, even if it’s more 30′s and 40′s films, and how the City Slickers seems right up his alley, I wouldn’t he suprised if he saw it and simply took some slight inspiration from it. Either way the similarity makes me giggle a bit. Again the plots aren’t all the same but the basic setup is about the same, complete with the main character’s family making sure he goes. It’s a bit of a stretch but I thought it was pointing out and while this review is comissioned, how I go about it isn’t so if I want to take a few paragraphs to compare this to an excellent comedy you should defintely see with two underated actors, maybe three i know nothing of bruno kirby other than the man had horse allergies and thus had to take heavy medication every day so good on him, and a lot of fun. 

So our premise and pastiche firmly in place, our heroes fly out to the frontier to adventure and Donald even thought ahead on them needing two more mounts and bought them from the local farmer for 100 bucks: It turns out their a llama, who jose takes and an old ox which donald reluctantly takes and wonders how to steer.. which I just got the double pun. Nice touch.

So our heroes head on with Donald expressing suprise they aren’t in the jungle like the movies, Jose correcting him, you get the bit he’s going for. But as they travel Donald not only breaks out the pamphlet but also , once jose mentions finding el dorado, casually mentions he and Scrooge already found it in columbia, and when Jose incrediously mentions that maybe he also already found the lost mines of the incas.. turns out yeah they did that too. Dont’ know if it was a barks or rosa story for either, since I didn’t check that part of Rosa’s notes, but it brings the scene into greatness as the boys not only belivie donald and figure he’s not pulling their legs.. but marvel at his life. And it’s here Donald smiles a bit.. he’s already got his smile back realizing that as miserable as his life can be.. he’s still seen and done things no man, even his globetrotting pals, has sever done before or sense. Found long lost places, solved mysteries and rewrote history.. sometimes literally sometimes in the “found things that changed historical knowledge” sense. Point is.. he realizes he has more to his life than he thought and maybe it isn’t so miserable after all. 

Donald also mentions the local waters are filled with stuff and the other Cabs mounts quickly climb on his continuting the gag of the Cabs assuming donald’s some big expert by accident. For me personally it varies in how funny it is, sometimes it’s grating othertimes it’s genuinelly pretty good, your mileage will vary. We then get a page and a half of slapstick with various animals and this gag repeated and it’s eh. Not bad, and there’s a REALLY great visual bit where donald gets squeezed by an anaconda and not only is he comically and tightly squeezeled, but it takes a few panels for it to wear off. Other than that not bad stuff but nothing especially new or really that funny. 

Our heroes soon find a pit trap.. and a capybara in said pit trap.. which I also give myself credit for recognizing on sight. Who dosen’t like a good capybara? Their basically a large brazillian rodent if you were curious. Donald asks what can they do and hte boys take it as a secret test of character, and not just donald being kind of lost and decide to help free trapped animals instead of treasure hunt which Donald, much like his entire life, just reacts to with “what what are we doing now?”. But they manage to free the greatful Capybara and we get this inspired bit. 

Naturally the sheer confusion of seeing this as well as being confronted with the relaly bizzare nature of his world, i.e. having both a rodent whose an old friend and one that’s clearly just a regular animal causes Donald to fall into the hole. He’s soon found by the natives.. and here we get one of the worst aspects of this story and one I honestly didn’t expect to encounter given Rosa’s research: Calling these indgeinous people’s.. “indians”. Yes really. 

We were in 2004 by this point, and even in the cultural cesspool of the early 2000′s, a time where micheal jacksons actions towards children were used for reams of jokes and where R.Kelly got off for the same just because “he makes the good musics”. What i’m saying is even in this time in history, we knew better than to use the term indian and I remember distinctily the term native american being in my text books even at this point as a kid. So Rosa, a world traveled knowledgable adult.. has no excuse for this, not even “It was the 50′s when this was set and they’d used this” as while he had Scrooge being mildly racist in “The Empire Builder from Callisota”, he didn’t you know, have scrooge use the fucking n word or other slurs during the story because you know that’s racist and he knows it’s racist. I’m coming down so hard on him because I expect BETTER. I can, even if it bothers me and I will give out about it, KINDA ignore the daisy stuff because domestic violence against men wasn’t as wellk nown, so while it dosen’t play well and I won’t pretend to enjoy it I can at least understand why rosa thought this was funny when it isn’t> This? The man clearly should know better, should know to use correct terms, and is usually better about this, but just isn’t here and for one of his last stories it’s REALLY depressing to see a man I have a ton of respect for fail this badly. It’s just a small element of hte story but it really sticks out badly and says bad things about an otherwise good man. Even a good man can really fuck up and Don.. honestly really fucked up even when, normally his portryal of indigneous people’s is really good.. and is for the rest of the story. This is just a really bad if really easy to miss bit I feel he deserves some flak over it. He knew better. This story proves he knows better in other ways and knows indgenous people deserve resepect. He just dosen’t show it in his laungauge and it’s disheartaning. 

Anyways, the Natives drop donald off with their cheif.. who turns out to not only speak perfect english, but has a rather nice modern setup and clothes. He’s the son of the former cheif whose dad, using a secret crystal city with a rich mine, paid for his son to go get an education in the US and hopefully bring back knowledge for his people. Instead all he learned was to be a greedy selfish asshat who calls his own people “savages”. This is what i’m talking about: While the indian thing is bad and Rosa should feel bad.. the rest of the story does treat these tribal peoples with genuine grace and care, as our main villian is shown as one partly because rather than respect his culture and simply use thenew knowledge of the outside world to help his people by educating them, bringing back new techniques and medcidnes while mixing it with thier old culture, the bastard prince simply wrote them off as savages and used his new learnings to rule them and get them into trapping, a buisness i’ts later made clear at the end of hte story they don’t like and only followed him because he’s their chief. And it dosen’t even come off as them following him as chief because their stupid, mainly just because of tradition and knowing they can’t escape him and he’d just find htem and find some way to cowtow them. The tribe here are innocent victimes forced into a life they don’t want by an asshole who became a colonizer instead of a hero and leader to his people and simply wants to sell them out as soon as possible to fiance a fancy and comfy life for himself.  The bad guy here is recycled from Rosa’s pre scrooge work, and works well here and honestly.. is a good villian and a good antagonist, something Rosa struggled with sometimes when not just using what barks made. He’s a chillingly realistic villian: someone who would step on where he came from instead of helping it and again treats these people as simple victims forced to be minons by circumstance and as the end of the story shows, and we’ll get to that, not nearly as stupid or “savage” as this cruel bastard thinks. And naturally being a cruel bastard, Chief, since his name isn’t given, plans to ransom donald as he naturally has no hangups about selling people AND rare animals. Thankfully Donald’s only a prisoner for a bit as Donald’s ox makes a back door and with the help of their mounts the boys free all the trapped animals and escape.. with Senior Martinez accidently taking the Chief’s necklace. Turns out that’s the sigal that signals his right to rule, so he figures if the tribe finds out it’s missing they’ll rightfully dump his ass and tells them to give chase, which the cabs find out about via a wild parrot. It’s better not to ask. 

So our heroes head into the wilderness to loose them and find a rocky slope, making their way up to some more plains. They now have both a high vantage, and a place to set up camp so do so. They also found out Martinez took the necklace, and now know why the chief is after them, but Panchito decides to keep it for now till they can figure out what to do with it. SO over the camp fire Donald decides that if they can find this lost mine that the Cheif’s dad used to go to,  they won’t need to look for diamonds the hard way and Jose’s skepticism is rebuffed by the fact that Donald’s found plenty of lost cities with scrooge.  So donald brings up the legend of the crystal city, with the guy who found it being colonel percy fawceet, and brings up more adventures you get the bit by now. Point is he mentions a crystal arch lighting up at night to ward off intruders.. and sure enough our heroes happen to be right by it, complete with a crystal road that simply had been covered by shale over the years. Donald decides to get some rest and head out in the morning, with a valid explination as to why not to worry about hteir perusers till then: It’s so dark that even if they left a trail, they can’t follow.. which the evil cheif agrees to though he finds the trail they dug up, pointing as an arrow and now realizing his dad’s treasure was real, plans to naturally exploit the hell out of it.  So the next morning, bright and early, our heroes have built a raft, and are greatful they looked in first as the waters are stalked with dangerous predatory creatures. How htey haven’t all killed each other, I do not no, but it looks cool so i’ll shut up now. So our heroes leave their mounts behind and head in up the stream via the raft and find the massvie and awe inspiring lost city.. as for why it hasnt’ been found they soon figure out why: THe stream in is dangerous, and jose figures it was delebratly packed with dangerous animals, and thus few would think to go in there, and the only ohter way up is scaling the cliffs it’s build into, but as the cities built into the sides of said cliffs, no one can see it from a distance. It’s a birlliant way to justify just WHY something remained lost and somthing barks is tremendous at. Our heroes soon find though that the canal go deeper and approaches a water fall.. and thus jump off loosing their only way back and thus heading in deeper to see if they can find another way out. Meanwhile the Cheif has found the swamp and recongizes his dad mentoning it and being a greedy jackass, and suddenly realizing that maybe his people won’t want to loot the city their swarn to protect, tells them to guard the Cabs mounts while he goes on ahead. 

Our heroes journey deeper into the unknown and after coming across pick axes mine carts and the like find the mines of fear.. lit with crystals and with wall to wall gems. So they’ve sucessful founds the lost minds of ophir, set up by one of king solomon’s realtiives. The actual King Solomons Mines had been found in a barks story, naturally and is also likely the basis for the african mines level in the ducktales game. 

Donald being donald.. ends up sitting on a giant anaconda who swallows him whole as he dosen’t realize just how big the thing is when his pals mention it to him, and only escapes through Dumb Luck, as is the duck family way, lighting a match and causing the Anadonda to spit him out and run... unfortunately not only does Panchtio loudley announce he dosen’t have his pistols, The Chief shows up with a gun. Naturally he intends to plunder, because jackass you see, and intends to leave the cabs stranded, with the anaconda picking them off one by one when they inevitibly have to sleep while he’ll come back with inflatable rafts and boats to loot the rest. The cabs bemoan the fact that their fucked.. and then this happens. 

So with that Donald FINALLY snaps, tired of taking the world’s shit and determined not to be the looser everyone around him but his boys clearly think he is. Seriously Donald.. dump. her. ass. It’d also tell you to dump gladstone in a shallow ditch but given your love for hacking through human flesh and his luck I don’t want you to impale yourself. So thus.. Donald stops getting polite and starts getting badass.. shouting THAT’S THE LAST STRAW BEFORE.. .. welll...

Bad. Ass. Also who knew Donald was part Kree? Wait .. how though? Questions for later. So as Donald gives the asshole his RICHELY deserved asshole a beat down, the anaconda pops up and grabs the boat.. with Donald STILL fighting the Chief the whole time. Holy shit. If this is your last time writing a character in a lead role what a note to go out on holy jesus. The cabs however show their CLOSE to as badass with Panchito roping the anconda and Jose attacking it once it curls around.. and unlike last time where his umbrella was quickly disarmed, here the Anaconda eats the tip.. only for Jose to expand it and on Panchito’s command, hook the damn thing. I didn’t relaize till writing this up just HOW badass this story’s climax is.. just holy shit this is awesome incarnate. 

Donald ends up loosing the fight eventually as asshole whomps him on the head with the gems.. and sends donald flying, destroying the gate regulating the water thanks to freeing the anaconda. As a result asshole escapes.. for about five seconds till he drops over the falls, presumibly to his MUCH deserved death and even if he surivives, likely wont’ for long without anything to defend himself. Goodbye asshole, you were a good villian but you’ll be better tarantula chow. 

Our heroes are still stranded.. but Panchito notices the Anadconda escaping and well... he decides to equal donald in badassery. Again..words do not do this justice. 

Our heroes disembark, and find that the tribe has been held at bay by the noble steeds, and as I mentioned earlier, and why despite the frequent use of .. that word i’ve said enough already, this story isn’t too bad. The tribe, once free.. are perfectly intellegent and nice, only in the game because of tradition that asshole abused. Their going to head deeper into the valley on the offchance asshole makes it back so he can’t find them. So the tribe is free and seeing the emblem as the symbol of their opressor and not wanting it, they can likely make a new necklace honestly just without the gems, Panchito gets to keep it. So our heroes won, the adventure is over and our heroes head back to rio

In our final scene we get our wrap up with our heroes back in Rio to enjoy what’s left of their vacation.. which given the scope of events only two days of it have passed so far, so it’s nicely implied they have a day or two before Donald has to go back where he can just.. enjoy himself. Have an actual vacation now his soul is whole again. Our heroes went to the authorities, and it turns out the Chief was one of the most infamous trappers in Brazil, and is now again either dead or in no way shape or form easily able to come back into the country.. and when he does, he’ll now have every officer in the country on his ass.So in short he’s pretty fucked and i’m pretty happy about that.  Naturally our heroes dont’ get to keep the mines, because well... it belongs ina museum.. or to become a museum and cultural landmark and the boys know and respect that. But Jose and Panchito both still got something out of the deal: for starters they have their confidence back, as seeing tthey could keep up with donald after realizing what a legend their friend is restored their own weary souls. Meanwhile, Jose’s newfound fame as the man who found a new brazilian cultural touchstone means his agent was able to get him booked up for a year, while Panchito , after consulting with the good senior martenez, decided ot keep the broach, and use it to get their ranch. And Donald? What did he find?

Donald found his smile again. He’s found himself again. After letting life beat him to near death, to just a souless shell. he’s found the real Donald. He’s realized that despite Scrooge’s finaical abuses he lives a rich full life. It’s part of why I compared the story to city slickers. While Donald’s life is far worse off than Billys, like him he finds himself again after the rousing adventure. And who knows what his future holds? Given Scrooge’s grave picture, yes Rosa drew that, he probably does marry daisy and work for the old bat.. but maybe now he can fight back, refuse to let htem walk all over him and actually find a healthy relationship with daisy and with his uncle before his uncle finally retires to Goldie’s loving arms. I could be wrong, it could be same as it ever was just he gets angry again.. but I like to think of something better for our boy. A better life and one more fufilled and more happy and one where he finally finds his pot of gold. He may not of found it yet but well.. there’s always another rainbow and he realizes that now just as his uncle did years ago. Donald is finally whole again to find his hapniess and a better life. Maybe with daisy, maybe with scrooge, maybe without them. Probably without Gladstone because he needs to cut that tumor out of his life, but still, he’s found himself and sometimes that’s all you need to find your purpose. So with that warm thought in my head our heroes play us out one last time. Well not for the restrospective obviously but still. 

Final Thoughts; While I do prefer the previous story, on going through this again for the review, I did find this story utterly charming and a great way to send off our boys and Donald for Rosa’s work. While again that one word is very unfortunate and Rosa should’ve known better, otherwise the story is pretty imaculate, using history to build a thrilling story with tons of character and a tremendous arc for Donald. And as I said the villian is excellent and overally the story is pretty great. Maybe held back a bit by the racisim, but the rest of the story is so joyous, badass and well crafted, it’s easy enough to override the less savory aspects. Dosen’t mean they didn’t need to be noted it just means this story is magificent and as usual for Rosa’s work I recommend it. 

Next time on the Ride of the Three Cablleros: We go to Disney Juinor for Mickey’s Perfecto Day! ..... whelp at least it’s a short one. 

And if you’d like to comission your own review, their just five bucks, jsut direct message me, tell me what you’d like, and I will send you the link on my paypal and get to it asap. Thank you so much for reading and have a happy holiday. 

Here’s A Health To The Company

@save-a-witcher-bingo  Prompt: At Sea Characters: Witcher Gerd, Togeir the Red, Jerome Moreau

 Torgeir was looking up at the ruins of what had once been his home. What      was     his home.      Is.    The flames were spreading quickly, Fort Tuirseach was all but destroyed. Like the Jarl who had filled its halls with laughter and mead- ruined.

 At his side, stained in blood, sat the Witcher Gerd. His jaw was tight, his hands were fisted in the fabric of his own filthy shirt, but his eyes were clear. He did not watch the ruin of his adopted home, rather he watched the blood seep from the bandages that he had wrapped around Torgeir’s leg. Already they were in need of changing but they had no fabric with which to do so, his original job had been so hasty... Unless they ripped apart the sails there was nothing to be done. But to do such a thing as that was a death warrant.

 The little ship they had taken was not meant to go much further than around the cape but they had set out for sea with no choice. They had with them five men and a woman, of whom only two were well enough to take up oar, not counting the Witcher who had rowed them the first half hour from shore nearly on his own with eyes blacker than coal.

 The Witcher rested now though, so much as he could with his life burning on the shore.

 “We will die out here.” The Jarl said, voice was devoid of emotion. Gerd looked to his friend’s face then, to his lover’s eyes. The anger, the      grief    , all the emotions he had expected were nowhere to be found.

 “No.” Gerd replied, “we will live. We will see them pay for this and you      will     see it rebuilt.” He received no answer, no acknowledgement as the jarl’s hand did not return the gentle pressure that he put upon it. Gerd looked at the island they were sailing from, the land they may never get to set foot on again.

 They would live; he would accept no other outcome.

 ~seven days~

 For seven days the ship rocked, sailing for some imagined safe haven on the mainland but without hope or half a crew. One man had succumbed to his wounds on the first dawn and another had followed two evenings after. Torgeir had said nary a word since his ominous assertion of their fate, his leg had steadily grown worse over the days and it left him with little ability to do more than lay down and sleep. When awake he stared across the sea as if expecting death to appear to him with an outstretched hand.

 Gerd had taken over easily enough, tucked Torgeir into the captain's quarters and spent both days and nights looking for either a miracle or their end.

 On the seventh day it came to them in the form of a ship thrice their size. No man aboard their own was fit to fight but still Gerd drew his steel and braced himself. The dark hull of the incoming vessel felt like an omen and he was flanked by Andrea and Koll, the only two who remained in good health- though weak from hunger they would die on their feet. Of that they were sure.

 A figure leaned over the edge of the ship above, their back was to the sun and so Gerd could not discern any features.           “Are you in need of assistance?” The voice was, clearly, not Nilfgardian and that alone was enough for the man on Gerd’s left to sag. Andrea looked to the Witcher, her eyes wide and hopeful.

     Please, let this be a mercy.  

 “Yes!” He called up. “We are!”

 The ship called itself a merchant’s vessel though a pirate’s den is what it looked. They had been pulled aboard with canvas and rope, the men of the ship quick to provide them with fresh water and food while their medic checked each refugee for wounds. If the crew were upset to have a witcher in their midst they did not voice it. Their captain was nowhere to be seen.

 “Oh dear.” The medic said, in his hands were the bandages that Gerd had re-applied to Torgeir’s leg on the third day of their voyage, made from scraps of a shirt found in the captain’s chest.. The odor once they were removed turned even the Witcher’s stomach. “I need a knife.” Gerd tensed but produced his own blade, edging closer to see what was going on.

 Torgeir was sweating, his skin deathly pale and feverish as he had been for the last day. In that moment though the jarl’s eyes were wide open- “Where’s Gerd?” It was slow and slurred but clear enough.

 “I’m here, Torgeir.” He sank to his knees and took one scarred hand in his own. With his other hand he brushed the tangled mess of the jarl’s hair back from his forehead. The infection was nasty, but it hadn’t spread far. He smiled though surely it was more of a grimace, “Just here.” It took all his strength not to snatch the medic by his throat when the knife began to cut away flesh. It took nothing at all to blame himself for the state of the wound. He was a witcher, he should have known better.

     You had nothing on hand to help. You did what you could.    He reminded himself. It could have been much worse, the beam that had splintered and slashed the jarl’s thigh had nearly taken his head instead.

 Green eyes rolled back and the man’s labored breathing evened.          “Witcher?” The medic hedged, “I’ve patched what I can but he will need someone to keep an eye on the wound. We’re still some ways away from the next port but we’ll find a proper healer there.”

 “I’ll look after him. Thank you…” he pushed himself to his feet. “Where is your captain?” The men pointed him across the deck to where a slight man was coiling rope, seemingly unconcerned with the new arrivals. He was dressed in a loose fitting shirt and a pair of garish calico pants.

 “Cap’n.”

 The supposed captain turned and Gerd’s first impression of the man was ‘pretty’. He had light brown hair and blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He was handsome in a plain sort of way, surely a charmer in any tavern he wished. The bear’s second impression was      Witcher.    Which couldn’t have been right.

 There was no such thing as a blue eyed Witcher.

 “Jerome Moreau.” The man-maybe witcher introduced himself as he passed the rope off to a deckhand. At the silence he continued, “Maybe we should speak somewhere private.”  Gerd followed him across deck, listening to the slow beat of his heart. The captain’s quarters were decently large and Gerd had the ability to put space between himself and ‘Jerome’ once the door was closed and the lantern lit.

 “As I said, I’m Jerome School of the Griffin.”

 He wasn’t sure       why     he snapped. Perhaps it was the time at sea, trying to hold together men on the brink of death while the only one who he could have turned to for help laid on a cot in pain. Perhaps it was how long it had been since he’d seen another of his kind. Perhaps he simply needed to hit something to keep his meager sanity. Perhaps, it was because there were no witchers with blue eyes.

 It was a laughably short fight. An      embarrassingly    short fight that Arnaghaf himself would have thrown Gerd from the highest mountain peak should he have witnessed it in his youth. Seven days at sea with limited water and only small bites of food to stop the hunger pains had done him no favors: against a man he would have been fine, perhaps even against two or three by sheer luck of size. But against a witcher? He hadn’t stood a chance. The Griffin-turned-pirate ducked his blow and tripped him backwards, before he could hit the floor a strong hand pushed against his chest and slammed him against the wall, pinned him there on the floor while the stranger watched him with those      blue    eyes. Jerome bared his teeth and Gerd found himself far too close to fangs unlike any he’d seen before, a feral snarl tore from the other’s chest like a beast. It was a sound that the bear could do without hearing ever again. But, just as quickly as the anger came, it left and the Griffin spoke softly,

 “I am not your enemy. Do not bring such strife onto my ship or I will not hesitate to feed you to the first kraken that threatens us. You and your men have been through a lot; I can see that.” Jerome shifted back on his heels and eased the pressure on Gerd’s chest. “If I cared about having another Witcher on board I would have left you to die. We Griffins are not quite as fickle as your lot.” he smiled as if sharing a joke. “Well, you are here, so tell me your name.”

 “Gerd.”

 “And your friend is Torgeir the Red then.” The Griffin moved away so that they were both sitting on the floor, Jerome with crossed legs and Gerd with legs akimbo from his fall. “Don’t worry, your safety on this ship is assured so long as I’m alive. We’ll reach a port in a week’s time, you’re welcome to go ashore and we won’t expect any payment for our help; though we’ll discuss other options later. For now, I think it best if you have a meal and rest. You can answer my questions once things have settled.” It was a very one sided conversation but Gerd had both too many questions to begin with and not near enough energy to ask them. If most of them were about the captain himself? Well,

 He was a strange thing, even for a witcher.

 Gerd was given a water skin for himself and Torgeir and the captain put them in a private room that was used to store trade cargo. It was empty for the next weeks, as had been explained to him by a young lad, and therefore made for a good place to rest. An extra cot had been dragged within. Torgeir’s fever broke after some hours and in the darkness Gerd watched him crawl from his heavy slumber. He hadn’t allowed him to get a word out before pressing the water skin to his lips.

 “Drink.” He urged and the skin was nearly empty by the time Torgeir pushed his hand away.

 “Where are we?” The room was black as pitch once the sun went down.          “A ship came through to help us. We’re a week from port. Your leg… we’ll get you medicine for it soon.”          “What?” Torgeir asked.          “Fucking thing got infected. They’ve got a decent healer on board though. Stitched it up fairly nice.”

 “Fucking great-” the red head pushed himself up and Gerd was quick to move closer and support him. “The others?”          “We lost Ragnar and Beorn. The others are having dinner and resting. No sign of Nilfgaard chasing us so far.” With his lover awake and clear eyed Gerd felt the weight of the last week and a half hit him in full force. His eyes drooped and he began to list to the side like a sinking ship.

 Torgeir shifted and pressed their shoulders together more firmly. “Come on, y’ bastard. Lay down.”          “Can’t.”          “You said we’re as safe as we can get. When’s the last time you slept?” Torgeir’s hand squeezed his thigh, kitten weak compared to what it should have been. When Gerd didn’t have an answer for him the jarl sighed. “Tha’s what I thought.” Gerd let himself be poked and prodded until he was reclined against the hull of the ship with rags and old feed bags piled behind him as a comfort. One leg stretched out in front of his while the other hung over the side of the cot, Torgeir laid between them. It was a familiar enough position even if the environment around them was not.  He had planned to meditate again, afraid that if he slept then he would not wake for quite some time,  but the moment that he had Torgeir’s weight against his chest his eyes closed and sleep dragged him under.

 He woke when light spilled across his face, feeling only half as rested as he should have and mortified that he hadn’t been able to fight off the slumber.

 Jerome was standing in the doorway, a white shirt half open across his chest and a look on his face that was far too soft. “Your crew demanded that I bring you something to break fast with. Andrea, I believe? She said that if you didn’t take it, I should send her in here in my place.” Again, that smile graced his lips. “I can leave it here and let you sleep.” It sounded good, to be able to close his eyes once more and sink into slumber. Perhaps to wake only when they were docked. He extended a hand instead.

 “I’ll take it.” They were hunted men for all he knew. They would need their strength.

 “Good,” as witchers they did not need to light an oil lantern and Jerome closed the door behind himself, some sunlight crept in from above. “While none here should voice any judgement, I would advise you to keep any overtly forward displays within this room or in my study should you need it. My men are good but they have loose lips in port, drunkards are not half as lovely.”

 Gerd was handed bread and a bowl of thin porridge. It was meager for a man his size and even more so for two. But, they were a week from port and The Hawksea, as the Griffin’s ship was called, had not been prepared for five more bodies on board. Particularly not those of warriors and witchers.

 “Thank you.” The words were rough.

 “Don’t mention it. I’ll be putting you to work before long. Lots of things to do here that could use a witcher’s strength.” Jerome sat on a crate, one leg pulled up to his chest with his arm draped over it. “Can’t have any freeloading going on, might start talk of mutiny.” His eyes crinkled at the edges as if he’d spent a lifetime laughing rather than fighting monsters. Maybe he had, with a face like that.

 “I thought you Griffins were supposed to be chivalrous bastards.” Gerd grunted.

 “Chivalrous? Yes. Bastard? Most certainly.” Those fangs were flashed at him again. “I was under the impression you bears were the loner sorts.”

 “We are.” Gerd didn’t miss the way Jerome’s eyes lingered on the redhead asleep on his chest. Caught even longer on the scarred arm wrapped around the human like a shield.

 The Griffin hummed, “I see.”

 The witcher left them alone with their breakfast and somewhere above them a man began to sing.

Yusuf should be asleep, he should be wrapped around his husband's body, taking strength from the warmth he's never quite felt anywhere else.

Instead he's in the kitchen, the cool metal grip on his pistol warmed by his hand wrapped white knuckled around it.

He'd heard a noise.

He'd dreamed he'd heard a noise.

It doesn't matter. It's late and the little cottage they are currently calling home is empty, except for his sleeping husband, and Joe, standing vigil in the dark.

(rest of fic under the cut for all you ao3 haters)

There's a small gap between window and wall, and the wind flows through it with a whispering wail. Once all houses creaked and swayed and whistled with the wind, little leaks with pots that were emptied in the morning, a row of fine dust along the window sills and under the doors gifted from a night of wild wind. Now these things are considered nuisances, problems to be torn down and rebuilt new and unremarkable. His heart feels heavy tonight, the feeling of long years catching up on him and curling it's fingers around his soul.

Joe looks out the window of his and Nicky's little Maltese cottage, the moon shines bright enough behind shifting clouds that even the slivers of light allow Joe to see the branches of the apple tree in the front garden sway with the cool night's breeze. Many summers ago they'd laid in the shade of that tree, eating the sweetly tart fruit until they'd made themselves sick. He has a sketch - or eight - of the passing shadows dappling Nicky's face as he'd laid back, full and content.

A memory stacked upon another memory from the days they'd done the same with Andromache, years and years ago, four, five hundred years ago, filling their bellies with overripe apricots after several long hard years of fighting and barely being able to tell if they had even made a difference, let alone actually helped anyone. Even now Joe can close his eyes and see Qýuhn's hair blowing free in the cooling winds coming up along the Peloponnese peninsula. Andromache's fingers sticky with pasteli, her cheeks rosy where she laid them on Qýuhn's thigh. Nicolò, sunbleached and glowing in the golden of light of a Mediterranean sunset.

He remembers retelling the apple story when they'd all met up again, Booker with his ever present flask, Andy sharing long drinks from it, all them tired but smiling, leaning heavily of the heavenly taste of crisp apples and the folly of gorging on enough fresh fruit to upset their stomachs. Because it made Booker laugh. Because it gave them all something to laugh about, to distract themselves from the weather turning and Sèbastien's eyes growing cagey as the winter's teeth started to bite.

Nicky had stoked the cottage's fire til they'd been sweating in front of the tiny hearth, toasty and ridiculous in their undergarments, with thick woolen socks on their feet in respect for the wild weather that battered at the windows. He'd felt happy that they'd managed to turn that haunted look to smiling eyes that crinkled at the edges. Had that moment meant something? Anything? Nothing? Was the glow in his eyes merely momentary? A trick of light and the gleam of drunken eyes?

Would this be the rest of his days? Questioning every moment, desperately searching for where he went wrong, where he should have noticed Booker's pain. Looking for the moment that had been Sèbastien's last straw.

It's funny, Joe can joke, he can laugh, he can make vague reference and yell angry accusing words, he can recite a bit of original poem he's writing as he speaks, but he can't work out how to open his mouth and say the words why did you hurt me?

He's always horribly envied Nicky's ability to put his hurt away, to shelve it for later, or never if he feels it best. Even as he's pulled his hair out in frustration as his other half willfully tears himself to pieces in an effort to find a way to please everyone.

Oh, he knows they're both different shades of Not Dealing Well, both of them like a purpose to distract themselves.

Foolishly, stupidly, for a wild moment Joe wishes for someone else to try for them, to attack them, just so he can slip back into the head space of being a unit, a simple moving part in a machine much larger than himself, Nicky and him working hand in hand, two halves of a whole.

He desperately wishes for that feeling, for anything other than devastated, tearing, hating hurt that sits on his lungs like peine forte et dure, each time he feels like the worst of the pain has occurred he remembers some other occasion, some other memory now colored by betrayal.

He can forgive, he can sympathize, he can hold his brother close and cry for the losses he's suffered.

But anger stabs through at the thought of him not returning that empathy. Like he and all the kin before Booker haven't suffered days of death and nights of death. Day after day, month after month of unimaginable loss, not knowing how to stop it, how to help it, just enduring as time pass uncaring of the pain felt.

He's held Nicky as he begged for the end, for them to finally (please, please, please) be released from the unrelenting years of horrors, just as Nicky has pulled him close while he cried, screamed, wailed for even the slightest chance of reprieve. From the widow with dead eyes and fevered blush, burying her last child and going back to work at the sick houses, for the children with nothing – nothing - yet who could still muster a smile, for Nicky spitting blood, choking, drowning, dying, then coming back to do it all over again. Never ending and relentless.

This is stupid.

He is being stupid.

Awake in the middle of the night, stalking around their Malta house gun in hand, the most unnatural state of himself, but unable to rest, convinced that if he relaxed, if his guard dropped for a moment, he would lose it all.

He places the gun on the table, sits down, there's no peace or answers to be found in an old cottage kitchen by the sea at midnight.

All there is, is the long shadows of moonlight between furniture, the evening dishes neatly washed and drying on the sink, a glass full of pens on the table, Joe's gun now sitting atop Nicky's latest writing attempt. Never long, never complicated, Joe found himself devastated by each small letter his husband left for him, even the three thousand that merely read I love you ♥♥♥♥, he held each one to equal esteem, though Nicky barely seemed to remember writing them, he would just smile and say I was thinking of you.

you unmake me.

you remake me.

everyday

Doodled across cheap lined notepaper, tucked under his dinner plate. They'd shared that meal just a few hours ago, Nicky's eyes had been tired but he'd kissed Joe's curls with a soft smile as he'd served dinner.

A meal that had taken more than half the day to create because if Nicky had the time he found peace in simmering oil and tomatoes, in adding all the extra ingredients that might make an Italian swear but had delighted them so when they'd first tasted them, that now they'd add them to whatever meal they could.

It'd been less than a week and Nicky was already on first name basis with the halal butcher a few blocks away, and many a day they stroll the streets, collecting fresh produce from the little garden markets, stopping by Zakaria's so he could wrap the evening meal with a only my finest cut for my favorite customers and a wink, despite having claimed the same to the little Italian grandmother before them, blushing and waving her hands in a flustered, delighted stop motion.

Joe closes his eyes, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, like his heart would be beat out of his chest, fall out onto the floorboards that they'd sanded and placed lovingly when they'd first started rebuilding this little cottage. Nicky could live his life with just Yusuf and the sea and be happy, but Joe needed people, needed to see people living their lives no matter how mundane. No matter how out of sorts he's been since they arrived, exhausted and devastated from London, Nicky hadn't forgotten that.

And so Nicolò knows the butcher by name, and, in turn, Zakaria's fisherman boyfriend, who stocks the butcher shop with the freshest of catches and shies away from company, with deep sad eyes and ankle bones that jut out like he needs a Nonna to fuss over him.

And so he's befriended the old ladies from the markets who give him unsolicited advice on his roses, on his apple tree, on the lush green vine that flowers bright bursts of color, on how to keep That Nice Young Man He's Always With happy.

And so each of these people is a friend of Joe's as well.

Joe takes one last long look out the window. Daring anyone who might be out there to take the moment. To give him a reprieve from his thoughts.

But the apple trees branches are the only thing moving. Wind rustling leaves the only sounds to be heard over the soft ebbing crash of waves in the distance.

There's no respite to be found tonight, he thinks as he put his pistol away. Part of him aches to remain armed, to keep vigilant, because last time, last time, but he won't walk into their bedroom with a loaded gun in hand. Not tonight when he feels like his very soul has been twisted, not when he still feels as if unseen eyes are watching him.

As Joe closes the bedroom door behind him, eyes open slow but sharp, immediately awake, perhaps awake before Joe came in. His Nicky is a light sleeper, more prone to 3 or 4 hours sleep before waking alert and ready to face the living hours,.

Nicky's eyes go soft, the faintest of gentle smiles curling his lips as he focuses on Yusuf.

“Where are you, my love?” he asks with quiet rasping voice of someone newly woken.

He doesn't know, he feels adrift, but Nicky's hand moves, reaches out and Joe crosses the room to take it as the lifeline he needs.

“What do you need?” His voice is steady and calm and ready to promise anything in his power to Joe.

And Joe feels his heart constrict, he can't live without this man, he thinks wildly

(a flash, a dagger in the dark, Nicolò on the ground, a halo of his blood, his beautiful skull, his precious brains scattered across the floor without second thought)

he wants to know Andy's okay, he wants her and Nile here immediately so he can see for himself that they're safe, he wants Qýuhn in his arms so much it physically aches. He wants her dark humor and her sharp eyes. He wants to hear her screech like stepped on cat whenever something delighted her. He wants Booker snorting into his wine at some stupid joke, he wants to know he's alive, that he hasn't thrown himself into another stupid situation.

In the morning, he thinks, in the morning he'll speak to Nile, her occasional furtive texting isn't quite as secretive as she perhaps thinks but none of them had felt the need to tell her to stop.

In the morning, he can wait til morning to soothe the lies and worries that his anxiety haunts him with. Til then, he threads his hands tighter with Nicky's, lets him pull Joe to bed, lets him rearrange them til he's flat on his back with Joe's head is resting on his chest, Nicolò's heartbeat in his ear.

He keeps a hold of Joe's hand, brings it up to his lips, presses a kiss to where they're joined, then curls it close to Joe and his chest, as if shielding it against the rest of the world.

“You, just you.” Joe tells the darkness.

“You have me,” Nicolò says, his breath, his lips, his jaw moving against Joe's curls.

“What do you need?” He asks again, free hand coming to rest, cradling Joe's head, gently gently he feels fingers move lightly in tiny soft circles.

“Tell me something.”

Joe pulls their joined hands close, presses his own kiss against Nicky's long fingers, holds it close enough for his breath to warm skin “Please. Tell me something good.”

It's a hard ask, he knows, he knows, every good moment of their lives can be tied to a bad one, the past could be a minefield with no directions or signs. But Nicolò rarely shied from a challenge.

“Did I ever tell you of the time Qýuhn demanded to know my intentions with you?”

“But she loved you!” He mumbles against their joined hands.

“Yes she did, but she loved your heart just as fiercely.” Nicky's chest moves against Joe's cheek as he snorts, amused, “We'd had to have been intimate for almost a year by this time, but she had me feeling like a sham of a man standing before the most beautiful man's guardian, offering a pauper's dowery.”

Joe starts shifting to argue but the hand on his head keeps him still, gentle but firm.

“It was good. To be reminded that you had someone else who would fight for your happiness, that my love for you was visible enough to be challenged, a reminder that we both still had family even if it looked very different to what we'd been born with. It'd been nice to know no matter how much I felt I didn't deserve, I'd been ready to fight for the right to let that be your decision.”

“You do deserve me,” the gentle circles on his scalp are making him sleepy but he puts a token argument, the principle of no one was allowed talk shit about Nicky, not even Nicky, one he was always ready to defend.

“Hush, you asked for a story, this is my story.”

“Scusi, scusi,” he kisses Nicky's hand again, “tell your story, tell me how you convinced me that Qýuhn you were worthy of my hand in marriage.”

He swears he can hear Nicky smile in the dark.

“I didn't, Andromache came in and declared they should leave us to make our mistakes and then stab which ever of us was most in the wrong.”

Joe can't help but laugh. “Qýuhn like that?”

He feels Nicky's soft laughter vibrate through his skin, he wants to die like this, in a moment like this, just the two of them entwined.

“No, she called Andy soulless and unromantic, they went outside to spar. We didn't see them again til morning, and Qýuhn never mentioned it again, so maybe Andy had a little romance in her.”

“How have I never head of this story?”

Nicky's answering chuckle is a delight.

“You came back and we had the house to ourselves for the entire night.” The hand on Joe's head flexes, like he wants to hold Joe as tight as he is can but its as much as their position allows. “It was a good day. We were loved, we are loved.”

He wants to crawl inside Nicolò, live forever embraced by his heart, to feel every lung full of breath press against him

“Sleep my love,” Nicky says leaning low to press his cheek against Joe's curls, to place an unaimed kiss to his forehead.

Sleep.

Nicky’s heartbeat is a sure and steady thing against his ear

(a monitor screaming as his lives hand falls limp against restraints)

Joe squeezes his eyes tightly shut then forces himself to relax, to hear the beat that's been by his side for a thousand years. He thinks of crinkles at the sides of Qýuhn's eyes when she grinned, the way she'd look to Joe when she found something fun to share.

He thinks of the way Booker's face grew soft in the late of the night when the game had long ended and everyone had gone to sleep and it was just the two of them, keeping the sleepless night company.

He thinks of the glow of Nile's face when they walked the halls of the National Museum, her excited but obviously knowledgeable commentary, how he itches to draw the lines of her joy over and over til he gets it just right.

He thinks of Andy in Marrakesh, the feel of her ribs reverberating with the force of her laugh as he swung her around. She's mother, weird aunt, odd stranger, honored elder, pain in the ass know-it-all older sister and so many more things he can not think to name, but she's theirs, and it's going to take a lot more than mortality to take her from them.

He swears it.

Finally he thinks of Nicky.

Nicky with long hair in his face, of the ever changing color his eyes across the firelight, of the weight of his body passed out, sated atop Yusuf, of the weight of his body lifeless as Joe pulled him somewhere to revive safely. The heaviness of his gaze and the weightlessness of even his smallest smile. Of his hands as they held Joe together, the gentleness of his touch as he put him back together. Of the unique light in his eyes, the fire that burns brightest when his sword is out. He thinks of words freely given when speech was hardest, he thinks of the uncountable I love you's, the innumerable languages he's learnt just to speak them and hear them back.

He thinks of hot blood spattered across his face and the way Nicolòs eyes would fight to meet his own when the end was coming. He thinks of the tightening of hands before they became unbearably limp. He thinks of the bad deaths, of eyelashes glued together with tears as hes gasped alive and the watery smile that followed. He thinks of Nicky moving, his sword swinging, on broken ankle, spitting blood and still moving.

His head, his heart, his life is full, and sometimes it feels like he'll drown with all that's in it.

Nicky's hand moves from his head, moves to stroke down his spine, long and slow in repetition.

Sleep he says again, his own voice thick at the edge of sleep himself.

Joe hugs a small breath, then slows his breathing to match the deep level breathing of Nicolò asleep. He thinks about the first time they slept like this, arms around each other, tangled and holding tight. He thinks of the countless times he's rubbed his nose against the back of Nicky's neck as he tried to catch just a little more sleep time.

There's a heaviness growing in his limbs as he half dreams of Nicky as he wraps himself around and burrows himself closer to Nicky. Slowly, steadily and then suddenly all at once, the sense memory of nine hundred years in this man's arms lulls him into sleep.

signs as haunted places in Pennsylvania

(This post is part of a series where I assign haunted places from each state to the signs)

Aries: Fort Mifflin, Philadelphia PA- Built by the British in 1771 to protect the city of Philadelphia, it was in American hands during the Revolutionary War. In 1777, the British basically destroyed their own handiwork as they blasted cannonballs though the fort walls, an estimated 1000 rounds every 20 minutes. About 250 men were killed at the fort. However, the fort never surrendered. It was rebuilt 20 years after the war and served as a garrison during the War of 1812 and a prison during the Civil War. Nowadays, it is used as a site for war reenactments. There is supposedly a ghost who resides on the second floor on the fort, known as the lamplighter. This is the spirit of the man who would light the oil lamps every evening. People who claim to see him describe him as a pale and barely discernible figure carrying an oil lamp. There is also the spirit of a woman known as “The Screaming Woman”, who is often heard in the Officer’s Quarters. Heard countless times with such volume, the Philadelphia police have even been called out on numerous occasions only to find no woman on the grounds. Many believe the woman is screaming at the loss of her husband during the war. The woman is often identified as Elizabeth Pratt. In Casement 5, there have been reports of seeing a faceless man. One of the stranger encounters people have had is an entity known as the “tour guide”, who while dressed in period clothing, has been mistaken for an actual tour guide. This spirit supposedly has given tours to unsuspecting guests when no actual guides had been scheduled to be present. In addition to these apparitions, there have been accounts of people smelling burning wood and bread baking as well as hearing disembodied voices and feeling like they are being pushed or touched.

Taurus: Black Powder Tavern, Wayne PA- This historic inn was founded in 1746 and served as a respite for stagecoach travelers heading westward as well as a rendezvous point for some famous American leaders such as Marquis de Lafayette and even George Washington himself. It is believed that during the infamous winter of 1777, military figure Friedrich Von Steuben used the tavern to hide secret stashes of gunpowder (black powder) for army messengers. Throughout the Revolutionary War, it provided soldiers with food, shelter and cheer. Today, the building still stands as a functioning restaurant and houses many unknown spirits- perhaps soldiers who died and found comfort in the place they felt safe and happy. Some are believed to be the spirits of those who died in the Duffy’s Cut massacre in 1832. Duffy’s Cut is a stretch of railroad tracks that run near the tavern where the bodies of 57 Irish immigrant railroad workers were found. Many died due to a cholera outbreak however forensic evidence shows that some may have been murdered due to fear of the cholera spreading. Both customers and workers alike claim to hear disembodied footsteps as well as seeing unexplained flashes of light and feeling sudden cold spots. There is a ghost of an innkeeper named Mary from the Victorian era who sometimes messes up newly set tables as well as the ghost of a teenage girl and her cat who have been seen at the top of the stairs and is known to haunt the second floor. Workers claim they cannot leave running clocks upstairs because she drains the batteries and often times she will leave pennies lying around even after the workers claim they had just cleaned the area. One woman even claims that she heard someone run down the stairs after closing, and thinking it was her coworker, thought nothing of it- however she later found out her coworker had left 20 minutes earlier and she was the last person in the building.

Gemini: Woodfield Manor, Cresco PA- This building, founded in 1808 and located in the Pocono Mountains, was originally an exclusive hunting club and a stage stop for the wealthy. It was expanded into a resort under new ownership in the 1950s, with a swimming pool and tennis courts being added. Although this may seem like a romantic and relaxing getaway resort, for decades guests and employees alike have experienced strange happenings inside the hotel. Many claim there is a spirit of a woman who haunts to building. Employees have said they have seen an apparition of her in the reception hall. One specific worker says that he believes the woman is the previous owner as he had seen an old photograph of her and was shocked to find out that woman he had seen in the reception hall had the same face as the woman in the photograph. The spirit, however, is a benevolent one. She is actually known to be helpful. One employee claims that when she went to a room to put up curtains, she realized she didn’t have any. However, she felt drawn to room 27, and when she got there, there were curtains laying out on top of the bed ready for use. However, not all of the spirits are friendly. One of the first owners of the building was a woman who drowned her two children in the bathtub. Room 13 is supposedly the most haunted room, where objects will suddenly move or shift, electronic devices malfunction and the sound of running water can be heard when the room is unoccupied.

Cancer: Farnsworth House Inn, Gettysburg PA- Although the exact date is unclear, this building is thought to be built around 1810. During the Civil War, it was used as a makeshift hospital as well as a resting place for Confederate soldiers. During the war, the building was caught in crossfire and the walls still contain about 135 bullet holes. Today, although the inn is still functional as a bed and breakfast, there is a room called the Garrett which is closed off to visitors as it is supposedly too spiritually active. The room was apparently a post for three Confederate sharpshooters during the war and one was shot and killed there. There are claims that the bathroom can sometimes be found full of blood splatters. The lock on the door is known to rattle on its own. Another room upstairs holds a spirit of a man who is constantly is sobbing uncontrollably and can be seen wandering the halls as he holds a child wrapped in a blanket. The cellar is known to hold an apparition of a soldier trying to help a wounded comrade walk. Sometimes a soft singing voice can be heard from the cellar, as well. Other rooms contain strange occurrences as well, such as the McFarland Room which guests claim to contain unusually heavy breathing in their ear. The Schultz Room is known to have a spirit of a nurse who tries to tuck you in at night as well as a spirit of a young boy named Jeremy. The room also supposedly sometimes smells strongly of cigars. There are many online reviews of former guests who claim to have felt being touched during the night and multiple even say they’ve captured reflections of apparitions of the nurse from the Schultz Room after taking a photo. Some skeptics say their beliefs have really been challenged after staying at the Farnsworth house Inn.

Leo: Devil’s Den on Gettysburg Battlefield, Gettysburg PA- The Battle of Gettysburg in 1863 began July 1st and ended on July 3rd. After it was over, approximately 45,515 people were either dead, wounded or missing. The second day of fighting was the bloodiest. It is estimated that during the battle, casualties came at a rate of about 1 per second. One of the areas on the battlefield, nicknamed Devil’s Den, was a ridge with large boulders strewn about. Throughout the 19th century, many people believed that in the crevices of the rocks lived a 15 foot long snake. The snake became known as “The Devil”, and thus the area became known as ”Devil’s Den”. On the second day of battle, approximately 3,235 people were killed or wounded there. The valley surrounding Devil’s Den then became known as the Valley of Death and a creek that ran near Devil’s Den became known as Bloody Run because the creek literally ran red with blood. On July 4th, the heavy rain caused the creek to flood and drowned wounded soldiers who were left behind. Today, Devil’s Den is known as being one of the most active paranormal hotspots in Gettysburg. A frequent sighting in the area is that of a disheveled man. He’s said to be wearing shabby clothing, a floppy hat and also be barefoot. He will walk up to people and say “What you’re looking for is over there,” and he’ll point to Plum Run (Bloody Run). He then promptly disappears, leaving those who have encountered him completely bewildered. People have nicknamed him the “Helpful Hippy”. Another encounter with the spirits of dead soldiers occurred in 1939 and even made its way into the Harrisburg Telegraph newspaper. Someone reported seeing two men walking along the side of the road and they appeared to be injured. The person stopped their car to see if they needed help and noticed that they were carrying rifles and were dressed in stained and bloody old-fashioned military uniforms. The men told the driver that their friend was propped up on a nearby tree and needed help. He walked with the men to the tree and saw a man with a bloody wound to the chest. He told them he’d drive to the nearest gas station and get help. When he got to the gas station, the attendant said don’t bother going back to help; they won’t be there; they are the restless dead of Gettysburg. Apparently this person wasn’t the first who had experienced this strange encounter.

Virgo: Easton Area Public Library, Easton PA- This library was constructed in 1903. When construction started at the site, it was discovered that the thickly wooded and overgrown area they were building upon was actually an old german reformed cemetery with 514 graves. In order for construction to continue, they had to move the graves- and while many family members were able to claim the corpses, about 30 remained unclaimed. The remains of the 30 unknown bodies were unceremoniously dumped into a large cement vault which basically became a large unmarked mass grave. As additions were added onto the library, the mass grave was paved over in order to create the parking lot. Even today, you can see an indentation in the pavement which shows where the grave lies. A prominent figure however had her grave moved to a more respectable plot on the  grounds. Elizabeth Bell Morgan, known as “Mammy” Morgan, was a Quaker from Philadelphia who married a physician who also specialized in law. After her husband’s death, she inherited his law books and many would travel to her for legal advice until her own death in 1839. For decades, workers claim to see her wandering the library grounds. The second floor is supposedly the most haunted where filing cabinets can be heard violently rattling as well as doors slamming in the early morning as employees enter to open for the day. Workers also claim that sometimes while stacking books, they feel someone touching and playing with their hair. One even claims she witnessed a doorknob turn and open right in front of her yet no one else was in the room. However, none of them say they feel threatened by the supposed ghosts, despite the spirits having a reason to be angry as their remains were disturbed and highly disrespected.

Libra: Welles House, Wilkes Barre PA- Built by industrialist Augustus Laning in 1846, this house has seen plenty of death throughout the years. During the time Laning was still the owner, the street the house resided on had a number of odd deaths occur. After building the house, tragedy began to strike Laning. His factories burned to the ground in 1850 and his nephew was killed after a lightning bolt hit the barn he was in. He perished as he was trapped under the carcass of a horse who had been killed in the fire. There was also a report of a man dropping dead in front of the house in the 1850s. From the late 19th century to the mid 20th century, the house had been the location of 2 suicides and 4 other deaths. Over its 160 year history, the house had been rented out over 50 times. For years it was believed to be haunted, however locals didn’t think so until the 1970s when the Bennetts moved in and their reports were brought to light. The family reported there being unexplained bangs and scurrying noises from one end of the house to the other as well as unexplained sudden illnesses and depression. They claimed they would sometimes see the apparition of a well-dressed man and a young girl walking through the doorway and then vanishing. The attic seemed to house an entity that would shriek, moan and cry. They also claimed they would sometimes get scratch marks and they could sometimes hear the sound of heavy footsteps, as if someone wearing heavy boots were walking up and down the upstairs hallway when everyone was downstairs. The house is believed to be the site of a demonic presence.

Scorpio: Carbon County Jail, Jim Thorpe PA- This two-story, fortress-like jail was built in 1869 and was in use up until 1994. This building is home to one of the most famous ghost stories in Pennsylvania. In 1877, a day known as “Black Thursday”, ten men were hanged because they were suspected of being “Molly Maguires”- a 19th century Irish secret society which fought for better treatment and working conditions for Irish immigrant coal miners. Many Irish coal miners had been working in the area and due to the poor conditions, many died from black lung. One of these men, Alexander Campbell, was executed, however he always proclaimed his innocence. Before he was led to the gallows, he left a dirty handprint on his cell (Cell 17) and said it would always remain there as a sign of his innocence- and remain it did. His handprint is still there to this day and people from all over visit the jail to see it for themselves. Despite many attempts to remove it, including trying to wash it off, paint over it, and even build an entirely new wall, the handprint always comes back. A former inmate, Walter “Mountain Main” Rodriguez, was placed in cell 17 by himself after his arrest in connection for the murder of a teenage girl. The inmate had supposedly begged to be moved to different cell out of fear. People who have visited the jail report having their hair being touched and feeling hands on their shoulders.

Sagittarius: Hill View Manor, New Castle PA- Built in 1925, Hill View Manor was originally known as The Lawrence County Home for the Aged, which housed the mentally ill, the poverty-stricken, orphaned children and the elderly whose families had abandoned them. It was practically a dumping ground for society’s outcasts. The heads of the institution, the Snyders, were accused of incompetence at the home in 1944 and resigned. Under new management, in the late 1960s, the building went under renovations and was converted into a skilled nursing facility. However, by 1970 the building was facing severe overcrowding issues. It finally closed in 2004 due to financial problems. Throughout the years that it housed people, many of the inmates died within the walls, most likely due to poor treatment and living conditions, yet some under questionable circumstances. There have also been numerous suicides that occurred on the grounds. There are numerous reports of shadow people being seen peeking around corners. Many claim they have also encountered full-bodied apparitions, flickering lights, mysterious screams and bangs, slamming doors and disembodied voices. In the chapel, an apparition of a doctor dressed in white has been reported. The pedals on the organ there supposedly move on their own and can be heard squeaking as if someone is pressing down on them. On the second floor, there is a stairwell by the women’s cafeteria where an inmate by the name of Angel hung himself. There are reports of extremely cold spots as well as the sound of something dragging across the floor. There are many other rooms in the building said to be haunted, such as Joe Miller’s Room, where people say cigar smoke can often be smelled and a shadow person can be seen. There is also John Robinson’s Room, where an inmate jumped out of the window and died. Loud banging can be heard from this room, some believing it is the sound of the window flying open or shut. There is also an old boiler room which is said to be haunted by a man named Eli Sorry, who became inebriated and passed out. Other inmates dragged him into the boiler room and shoved him under the stairs where he later died from either intoxication or exposure. Some claim they hear moaning and coughing in this area as well as feeling suddenly cold. Flashlights also apparently turn on and off in this area. These are just a few accounts of hauntings within the building. The structure currently sits abandoned at the top of a grassy hill above highway 65.

Capricorn: Moravian College, Bethlehem PA- Moravian College was founded in 1742 and is the sixth oldest college in the United States. Before being known as the liberal-arts college that it is today, it’s gone through its periods of transitions. There is a building on campus called the Brethren’s House, which currently serves as the music and art building, however it was converted into a hospital during the Revolutionary War and supposedly has its fair share of ghostly residents. One encounter happened in 2016 where a girl took her boyfriend (a non-believer of the supernatural) to Brethren’s House to do some ghost hunting. She did not expect much to happen and figured he would stay skeptical. After exploring the second floor with not much luck, they decided to head back down to the first floor. As they headed down the first floor hallway, they both heard an extremely loud rumbling noise coming from above them; so loud that they couldn’t hear each other speak. She claims it sounded as if 50 people were running up and down the upstairs hallway. They both ran out the door into the Main Hall. After confiding in a friend about the experience, she told her that she had the same experience and so had others. The sound was known on campus as the nurses from the Revolutionary War desperately running up and down the hallways with gurneys. Another haunted building on campus is Comenius Hall, where a nurse is said to haunt it and is aggressive towards anyone who is on her territory. There are often technological malfunctions and unexplained scratching and banging can frequently be heard. One incident happened during a Halloween haunted tour where a worker was in the basement to turn off the lights for a group that was coming up. He made three attempts to turn off the lights however they kept flipping back on. He gave up and headed back upstairs. As the tour guide led the party towards the basement, a guide dog within the group started signaling danger and seemed to be desperately trying to keep its owner from going forward. Although there was no visible danger, it simply refused to enter the basement. Afterwards however, no one on the tour claimed to notice anything suspicious. These are just two examples of paranormal experiences that have happened on campus. There are other buildings known to be haunted, one called Rau Dormitory, where 3 people hung themselves in the 1960s. The music building, a sorority as well as a couple other dormitories are known to be haunted as well. Endless amounts of detailed paranormal experiences from students and visitors alike can be found online. There is no doubt that there is something more to Moravian College than meets the eye.

Aquarius: Mishler Theatre, Altoona PA- This theatre was built in 1906 and was named after its owner, Isaac Charles Mishler. Not even a year later, the neighboring building caught fire which quickly spread to the theatre and destroyed the interior. It was rebuilt and reopened in 1907. Over the past few decades, it has gained attention due to the supposed hauntings. Many claim they have seen the ghost of the late Isaac Mishler wandering the building as well as walking through a wall where the door to his office used to be, all while leaving a trail of cigar smoke. Some claim you can sometimes see a trail of smoke rising up from one of the seats in the audience even whole no one else is in the theatre. One specific testimony comes from a now 12 year old girl, whose encounter happened when she was only 2 years old. Her mother used to work at the theatre and would sometimes bring her along to work. She recalls sharing fun times with a man in “funny hats” while her mother set up lights and sound equipment. She said sometimes he would show up in a floppy hat and other times a tall black hat. He would talk to her about his love of theatre and they’d go for walks around the set. When she described what the man had looked like, the description matched Isaac Mishler. Perhaps his love for theatre was so strong that he decided to stay, even after death. Two other supposed spirits are that of a woman who haunts the restroom and a dog who can be heard howling throughout the day and night. 

Pisces: Providence Quaker Cemetery and Chapel, Perryopolis PA- Dating back to 1789, this cemetery was founded by Quaker pioneers and today is known to be associated with strange occurrences and curses. It was once a spot used to execute those believed to be witches as well as a place to practice black magic. Dark spirits are now said to haunt the grounds as a result. In the center of the cemetery is a small stone church where a spirit is said to reside. People who have entered report feeling extremely cold, hearing disembodied footsteps and getting a heavy feeling in their chest when they are inside. The cemetery also has its share of spirits. There are two unknown entities who haunt the yard and will push people down if they dare disrespect the graves. One of the gravestones in the cemetery supposedly holds a curse. The gravestone is that of Ella Mae Lynch, whose inscription reads “Remember youth as you go by, as you are now, so once was I, as I am now, so you shall be, beware for death and follow me.” Many believe the inscription indicates that reading it curses you to die in the same manner as Lynch herself. In 1980, a man reported driving past the cemetery and having his car chased by a large black dog. However, once he passed the grounds the dog had completely vanished.

New Jersey

(Let me know what state I should research next...)

In Game:

Fort George was a military location in southern New York City. It was known by various names through its lifetime.

At some point prior to the outbreak of the American Revolutionary War, the Fort fell into the hands of Haytham Kenway's Colonial Rite of the Templar Order and served as their headquarters throughout the conflict.

By the end of the war, the fort was attacked by several French warships acting under orders of Ratonhnhaké:ton, who sought to use the bombardment as a diversion for his assassination attempt on Charles Lee. However, Lee had left and Connor was forced to fight and kill his father instead.

In Real Life:

Fort George no longer exists, but on its site can now be found the Alexander Hamilton U.S. Custom House, which now houses the Museum of the American Indian.

Fort George, originally Fort Amsterdam, was built by the Dutch in 1626. Once under English control, the fort was called Fort James, Fort Anne and lastly Fort George after 1714. The structure burned down in 1741 in an instance blamed on slaves, but was rebuilt.

Fort George was the site of multiple conflicts during the Revolutionary period. In 1765, the British passed the Stamp Act, which made it so that certain pieces of paper, from legal documents to newspapers to decks of cards, had to have a special stamp that was produced in England.

The British, prior to the French and Indian War, had been pretty “hands-off” when it came to governing the North American colonies, but this changed following the conflict. They needed money not only to pay for the war, but also because of the large amount of land they gained from the French. Because the colonists were not used to so much intervention from the British government, they were not happy and acted accordingly. There were opponents to the Stamp Act and other taxes by people who would become patriots and loyalists. Both camps opposed the taxes, but the divide starts to be seen as they differed on the best way to rectify the situation. 

(Image source)

Fort George, in 1765, was not well defended. Lieutenant Governor of New York, Cadwallader Colden, worried after hearing of the treatment of stamp distributors in other colonies, requested soldiers from the British Army to protect the fort. He hoped this would discourage violent opposition. He was wrong.

The first shipment of stamps to arrive in New York harbor on October 23rd, 1765 was greeted by a mob, and had to be unloaded in the middle of the night. These stamps were then kept at Fort George. On October 31st, the day before the Stamp Act was to be enforced, mobs took to the streets, and “Emboldened by numbers and drink, the mob swarmed to within ten feet of the fort’s gate and taunted the garrison of fewer than two hundred to fire.”

Physical violence did not break out between the two sides, but this showed the power of the mob and its power to intimidate. In the summer of 1789, about six years after the British surrender, Fort George, which represented British power, was destroyed.

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Fort_St._George

https://blogs.shu.edu/nyc-history/2016/12/13/fort-george/

10 Interesting Facts About The DuSable Bridge

One of the most important bridges in the history of the city of Chicago is located right in the heart of the Downtown area of the city. In this post, you can discover the ultimate list of interesting facts about the DuSable Bridge, an iconic bridge with a couple of fascinating stories to tell!

1. It carries an important road over the Chicago River

The DuSable Bridge is not just one of the most historically important bridges in Chicago, Illinois, mainly because of its location, but also carries one of the most famous roads in the city. It carries Michigan Avenue across the Chicago River in Downtown Chicago, one of the main boulevards featuring the most important commercial areas in the city, including the so-called "Magnificent Mile." It has a north-south orientation and the northern part of the bridge is home to some of the most iconic buildings in the city, including the Wrigley Building and the Tribune Tower. The scenic Chicago Riverwalk is located just to its east as well.

Aerial view of the bridge / David B. Gleason / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0

2. It was renamed in 2010 in honor of a particular Chicago resident

The original name of the bridge upon completion in the year 1920 was the "Michigan Avenue Bridge, a reference to the road it carries on its two decks. Because of its historically significant location, the bridge has been subject to being renamed all throughout its history. The first two official proposals were the "Marquette–Joliet Bridge," in honor of two explorers from the early days of the state of Michigan, and the "Fort Dearborn Bridge," a reference to a fort that was located here before. One of the most remarkable facts about the DuSable Bridge is that it was only renamed to its current name in the year 2010. This name is a reference to a man named Jean Baptiste Point du Sable (before 1750-1818), a trader of French-African descent who is considered to be the first non-indigenous resident of the city in 1780 and therefore the "Founder of Chicago."

DuSable Museum of African American History / TonyTheTiger / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5/deed.en

3. The northern side of the bridge has unique historical value

The main reason that the bridge was named in honor of Jean Baptiste Point du Sable is that he built his house on the northern part of where the bridge is located today, near the mouth of the Chicago River, in the year 1780. The exact spot of his house is now an area referred to as "Pioneer Court," a plaza nestled in between the skyscrapers of Downtown Chicago, a sight that DuSable would watch in astonisment today, that's for sure! His house ended up being bought by a man named John Kinzie in 1800. He seriously expanded the structure and the house is therefore also sometimes referred to as the "Kinzie Mansion."

The house of DuSable / Laurent de Walick / Wiki Commons

4. The southern side was once the location of a United States fort

Just over 2 decades following the construction of the first non-indigenous house in Chicago, a fort was built on the southern part of where the bridge is located today. This fort was called "Fort Dearborn" and was completed in the year 1803. It was named in honor of Henry Dearborn (1751-1829), an American politician who served as the United States Secretary of War at the time. The original fort was completely destroyed during the War of 1812 in a battle now referred to as the "Battle of Fort Dearborn." It was rebuilt in 1816 but lost its purpose as a fortification in 1837. The fort eventually ended up being completely destroyed yet again in 1871 during the Great Fire of Chicago. Today, only a plaque can be found where the fort's southern perimeter wall once stood can be found.

5. A bridge here was first proposed in the late 19th century

The first time that a bridge was proposed in this location was in the year 1891, followed by countless other proposals, ranging from a tunnel to a bascule bridge proposed by the Chicago Tribune in 1903. The first concrete idea came about in the year 1909 when the Burnham Plan of Chicago was created. This consisted of a wide boulevard and a bridge across the river at the location of the DuSable Bridge today. The first plan to be approved was that of a double-decked bridge in the year 1913, but subsequent legal battles delayed the start of the project until April 15, 1918, the day the construction started.

One of the proposed plans from 1909 / Wiki Commons

6. It almost looked like a famous bridge in Paris, France

The bridge was designed as a double-leaf, double-deck, fixed counterweight, trunnion bascule bridge, and the project was completed by the Bureau of Engineering of the Chicago Department of Public Works. Multiple designs were suggested, and perhaps the most notable was a suggestion to make the birdge look like the Pint Alexandre III in Paris, one of the most ornamented bridges in the city. Perhaps this design wouldn't have been that bad at all, especially with some of the most famous buildings in Chicago in the background, don't you think?

Detail of the bridge's design / Daryl Michell / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

7. The bridge held an amazing record upon completion

The architect of the project was the co-author of the 1909 Plan of Chicago, Edward H. Bennett (1874-1954). Apart from the Michigan Avenue Bridge, perhaps his most notable work was the Buckingham Fountain, the most prominent landmark in Grant Park. One of the most fascinating facts about the DuSable Bridge is that it's considered to be the first double-deck bridge in the world which featured roadways on both decks upon completion. Fast traffic was reserved for the upper deck, while the slower traffic, such as delivering trucks for the nearby docks, had to settle for the lower deck.

The iconic bridge / Atramos / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

8. One of the piers was sunk to the bedrock below the river

The bridge has the capacity to open and close and counterweights are used for this mechanism. These weights drop into concrete pits of about 12 meters (40 feet) deep and lower about 10.5 meters (34.5 feet) below the surface of the water. These massive concrete pits on each side of the bridge are supported by 9 cylindrical concrete piers in order to provide stability. The 4 counterweights each weigh 1,447 tonnes (1,595 short tonnes). 17 of these piers are sunk at depths between 24 to 27 meters (80 to 90 feet), while one of them reaches the bedrock below to a depth of 33 meters (108 feet) below the river surface.

The bridge opened up / Stephen Hogan / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

9. The bridgehouses are decorated with sculpted reliefs

Because the bridge has such historic importance in the city, 4 sculpted reliefs have been added in 1928 which depict scenes from the history of the city. These 4 reliefs are located on each of the 4 bridgehouses and depict: - The Discoverers - Depicts early explorers in the region, Louis Joliet, Jacques Marquette, René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle, and Henri de Tonti. - The Pioneers - Depicts John Kinzie as he leads a group of people through the wilderness. - Defense - Depicts US Army Officer George Ronan during the 1812 Battle of Fort Dearborn. - Regeneration - Depicts workers rebuilding the city following the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. The first two reliefs are featured on the northern side of the bridge and were sculpted by James Earle Fraser (1876-1953) while the reliefs on the southern side were sculpted by Henry Hering (1874-1949).

Regeneration by Henry Hering / Jeremy Atherton / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

10. The southwestern bridgehouse became a museum in 2006

The southwest bridgehouse is referred to as the "McCormick Bridgehouse & Chicago River Museum" and can be accessed from the Chicago Riverwalk. Here you can learn everything about the history of both the Chicago River and the DuSable Bridge. The museum was named in honor of the former owner of the Chicago Tribune newspaper, Robert R. McCormick (1880-1955), as his foundation raised $950,000 to make the establishment of the museum possible.

Entrance to the museum / Jeremy Atherton / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en Read the full article

NORTH CAROLINA

2020 Nov 19 (Thu) –Bonnie had a bout of diarrhea and we were getting up every two to three hours to take her out.  Poor thing.  At one point, she was also throwing up.  She got a bad bug this time!

    A brisk, cold wind was blowing in from the ocean.  The temperature didn’t get much into the 50s today.  We stayed around the camper most of the day except to run out to the post office to mail off some post cards.  We also did the laundry. The machines were only $.75.  That was a delight.  Getting ready to move on tomorrow.

 2020 Nov 18 (Wed) – It was a cold and blustery day.  At 4 p.m. we ran out to the store to pick up some rice.  Bonnie started in with diarrhea and we didn’t have any rice to mix with her chicken.  While we were out, we stopped at Michael’s Seafood Restaurant and had dinner. Paul enjoyed black drum, a flaky white fish.  I had salmon. The meal was delicious and they gave us a military discount to boot!  Always, always ask.  You never know who gives a discount and who doesn’t.

 2020 Nov 17 (Tue) – It was a beautiful day today but we did not go anywhere.  I think it was because there is not much to see in this area and we have been to all the tourist stops.  It is disappointing to think that you have seen everything and nothing else interests you.  I certainly hope we are not at that point.  

2020 Nov 16 (Mon) – We drove to Wilmington today to tour the Battleship North Carolina.  When we arrived, there was water flooding the road and the parking lot.  We slowly drove through several inches of water only to find that we couldn’t get onto the ship without walking through water. So I called the desk to see if they were open.  The clerk said they were flooded out with high tide.  It would go down and they would be open around 12-ish.  We think they could have built up their parking area a little.

    We left and picked up pet food at PetCo, then went to the historic part of town on the Cape Fear River to have lunch. The Fork & Cork was a small bar and café.  We both got the specials.  Mine was a mac & cheese carbonara.  Sounded good but didn’t taste good.  Paul had some kind of burger with bacon jam and spicy mayo.  He seemed to enjoy it.

    Heading back to the battleship, we found that the water level had gone down and we were able to park and go into the place.  We spent about 2 hours crawling around the ship.  I learned a couple of new things and we had fun exploring 5 decks below and 2 decks above the main deck although we couldn’t go into the engine room.  The coding machine they used during WWII was top secret.  When a repairman came to fix it, everyone had to leave the room.  Different parts were done by different people so very few understood the entire system and how it worked.  When radio messages were sent, they were entirely encoded – even the name of the ship the message was going to.  So radiomen had to decode every message that was sent out in order to sort out their messages.

    After the battleship, we stopped at Publix to pick up groceries.  After dinner, we walked over to the beach to watch the Leonid Meteor shower.  We brought a sheet so we could lie down on the sand.  It was cold, the sand was hard, and we couldn’t see any meteors even though the circumstances were unusually excellent.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the moon was nearly invisible; had just the barest fingernail of a shape.  We were very disappointed.

2020 Nov 15 (Sun) – The day was overcast and threatening all day.  We tried to walk down to the beach but it started sprinkling, so we turned around and went back home.  We spent the day hanging around the camper.  Bob & Holly left without ever coming over to visit.

 2020 Nov 14 (Sat) – We went into town to pick up a few groceries.  Drove through Carolina Beach.  It is a very beachy community.  Although there are many people here, it is no where near what it usually is in the summer time when all the beach houses and condos are rented.

    We took a walk across the street to the ocean with Bonnie.  The beach front is very open and expansive.  You can see the Kure Beach Pier in the distance.  The beach is deserted at this time of year and you can see forever.

2020 Nov 13 (Fri) – We packed up and left Elizabeth City at 9 a.m.  It was an easy drive to Fort Fisher AF Rec Area in Kure Beach.  The campground is right off the main road that runs through town along a row of beach houses.  It reminds me of beach row in the Hamptons with all the 3-story pastel houses on stilts fronting the ocean.  Although it belongs to the military and you have to show ID to get a campsite, the campground is open.  It’s not on a base.

There are about 25 sites here.  They are concrete and very, very long with full hookups.  There is a decent amount of space between the sites with trees along the back of the perimeter.  Our window looks out at the ocean side and all the pastel homes and cottages built adjacent to the roadway.  

Fort Fisher must have made a lot of money selling the property to beach goers.  If you don’t turn into the campground and just drive straight down the road, you go into the Fort itself.  It was a civil war fort and there are breastworks that visitors can wander around. There is also an aquarium on the beach side.  When we toured it last year, there were Christmas trees all over the building.  

We were here last year just after the area had been hit with a hurricane.  Buildings were under repair and the reception office was temporarily set up in another building.

We are on a narrow spit of land, like Fire Island back home.  They call this area the Crystal Coast – 80 some miles of outer islands that protect the main coastline.  On one side of us is a bay.  On the other side is the Atlantic Ocean.  We can hear the waves breaking on the shore all day long.

      After we set up, we went to the office to check in.  When we got back, we spotted an orange Class A Motor Home setting up.  It turned out to be Bob & Holly from our Utah caravan last year.  They were the couple that had trouble with their rig. While they were in Las Vegas waiting for it to be repaired, they got married.  We said “Hi” to Bob and promised to get together later when Holly returned.

 2020 Nov 12 (Thu) – It was an overcast and rainy day.   We just hung around the campground all day, getting ready to move tomorrow.

 2020 Nov 11 (Wed – Vets Day) – It was a rainy, overcast, nasty day today.  We stayed in the campground.  Did laundry this afternoon.  I began work on my book about my time in Iraq.  It’s been 15 years since I was sent to the Middle East. It’s about time I got that damn book written.

 2020 Nov 10 (Tue) – We started a new diet today so we stayed close to home to get ourselves into the groove.  While I was cooking, we turned on the Magic Fan to help exhaust the heat in the kitchen. Weirdly, the fan would not turn off. We flipped switches, checked fuses, and shut the DC-12 volt system – all to no avail.  Paul finally just cut the wire to the fan.  

 2020 Nov 9 (Mon) – It rained all morning.  The insulation in our rig is really good.  I couldn’t hear any rain.  I didn’t know it was raining until I looked out the window.  Our pop-up camper used to sound like corn popping on the roof when it rained.  This is much quieter.

     We had lunch then drove to WalMart to pick up groceries.  We’re starting a new diet tomorrow.  Trying Keto this time.  We’ll see how things go.

2020 Nov 8 (Sun) – We drove into New Bern today.  We had been there last year when we drove through here but the North Caroline History Center was closed then.  The historical houses in the complex were closed.  There was a small museum inside the visitor center that covered the history of the state and city.  At 1:30 p.m., we went to the Tryone Palace.  It was and the first capitol of North Carolina from 1770 to 1794. The original palace kitchen burned down in 1798, leaving only the stable intact.  In 1952, two ladies from the historical society found the original architectural plans for the property.  They bought it, raised money, and rebuilt the palace and kitchen according to the original plans.  With the Revolutionary War looming on the horizon, the governor fled to New York, fearing for his personal safety.  There were docents in every room on the first floor and in the basement (we weren’t allowed to tour the upper floors).

     We walked down the Main Street and stopped at a café for lunch. I had tuna on a croissant and Paul had a gyro sandwich.  Everything was tasty.

     On the drive back to the base, we stopped at the Junkyard Market.  It was an intriguing place with lots of odds and ends out on the street to attract visitors.  We walked through the building, looking at all the knick-knacks.

     Back in the car, we drove through a nearby development when Paul spotted a sign there were new homes for sale.  We thought we would go through a couple of model homes but there weren’t any.  So after driving around the neighborhood, we returned to the campground.

2020 Nov 7 (Sat) – It was a very delightful day. After letting the animals have outdoor time, we headed out to the Crystal Coast to tour Fort Macon.  It was a small but very neat confederate fort built on the Atlantic coast.  We realized how big some of the other forts were that we have toured after seeing this one. There were 3 forts built on the site. The first was Fort Dobbs in 1756.  It was never completed and allowed to fall into disrepair.  The second fort (Fort Hampton) was built in 1808.  It defended Beaufort Harbor during the War of 1812. A hurricane eroded the inlet in 1825 so Fort Macon was built between 1826 and 1834.  In 1862, union forces attacked and captured the fort.  The fort was used during the Civil War, the Spanish American War, and World War II.  It served as a military prison from 1862 to 1877.  The property was purchased by the state and became the first state park in North Carolina in 1936.

     We then drove into Beaufort and explored the Old Burying Ground.  The historical society normally conducts tours of the site but because of the coronavirus, nobody was giving any tours.  There are graves of confederate and union soldiers as well as slaves and freemen.  It was such a mish mash of gravesites.  It looked like a lot of them had concrete coverings over the bodies.  The large cemetery had graves laying every which way. It’s like they came in, looked around, and said, “There’s a spot.”  It was crazy!

     We then walked around the block and explored the historic site where there were many houses that had been built in the 1700s. Most of the houses had plaques on them stating the year they were built and who lived there.  We stopped at the marina to ogle the boats and yachts.  I picked up two kites for our grandsons who we will be seeing over Thanksgiving.  

     We stopped at the Crabs Claw for lunch.  There was an outside deck overlooking the ocean.  We both had the lobster salad.  It was quite good.  Next door was an interesting looking rental.  We asked the waitress about it.  It was 5 units attached as one building, each one with 4 floors with balconies looking out over the ocean.  In the backyard were a barbecue, a hot tub, and a pool.  She said it was rental condos that cost (she thought) about $3,500 a week.  Wow.

     The drive back to the base went over several bridges and past some interesting places – Radio Island, Morehead City, Atlantic Beach.

 2020 Nov 6 (Fri - Paul’s Birthday) - We packed up and left the USCG base in Elizabeth City at 9 a.m.  With only one stop at a rest area along the way, we arrived at the Marine Corps Air Station (MCAS) Cherry Point in Havelock at noon.  The campground is called Pelican Pointe RV Park.  It is very nice.  There are 30 sites arrayed in 4 rows within an oval.  One row (the one we are in) has pull-thru sites; all the rest are back-in.  All the sites are concrete with a nicely graveled area holding the electric, water and sewer hookups.  Trees surround the campground and there is a water body nearby – called Slocum Creek but looking like a river.  We went out to Del Patron for a Mexican dinner and margaritas.

2020 Nov 5 (Thu) – We hung around the campground this morning.  At noon, we went out to do some errands – get fuel for tomorrow’s drive, pick up pet food, and get lunch.  We ate at the City Grille, a diner type café.  The food was good and the place was doing a good business. Sheba certainly enjoyed this campground. She had lots of space to run and play in with a tree to climb on.  It’s been nice with the river right outside our window and the USCG aircraft flying into and out of the airport.

2020 Nov 4 (Wed) – I have returned from a week in New York.  The time went fast.  The visit with the oncologist went very well.  All bloodwork is normal.  I don’t have to go back until January.  I also got to visit with my daughter, Gina; my sister and her husband, Susan and Bill; and my grandson, Caiden.  I got to go trick-or-treating with Caiden and his parents.  He was able to hook up with a friend and the two boys had a great time together.  Caiden came to stay two nights with me at the hotel.  We drove out to Sue’s for lunch and swam in the pool at the hotel.  He had a great time and was sorry to see it end. So was I.  I went over to his house and helped his father put together an electric car, which was a gift from Aunt Susan and Uncle Bill.  It was Caiden’s 7th birthday on October 30th.

    It was good to get back home and see Paul and the girls again.  Bonnie actually seemed glad to see me.

2020 Oct 27 (Tue) – We went to WalMart to pick up a suitcase for me.  While looking for my duffel, we couldn’t find it. Paul thought we might have thrown it out after my last trip.  We wound up buying two rolling duffels with the hope that we can take a trip to Australia next year for our 50th anniversary.  

    We then stopped at Currituck BBQ for lunch.  Paul had pulled pork and I had beef brisket.  It was a lot of BBQ.  Next stop was at Enterprise Car Rental where I picked up a Nissan Kicks SUV.  I will be driving to New York tomorrow.  Because of the coronavirus and all the quarantine stuff going on in New York, we felt it would be better for me to drive home rather than fly.  It’s going to be a very long drive – 9 to 10 hours.  Last stop was at Ford where we dropped the truck off for a diagnostic.  The AC stopped working about 2 weeks ago.  You definitely don’t want a non-working AC down here in the south!  Paul thinks it’s the compressor.  We’ll see.

    Finally, we returned to the camper. It has remained overcast and cool all day.  This is such a nice campground.  It was great the first two days before the weather turned foul.  Hope it clears up – for Paul, at least.  I think I’m driving into some bad weather up north.

2020 Oct 26 (Mon) – It was another overcast and dreary day.  We walked over to the Navy Federal Credit Union to use my debit card.  I had gotten an email from them saying I hadn’t used my debit card in the last year and if I did not use it, they would not send me a new one.   What kind of bank cancels a debit card because you don’t use it?  So I took the debit card for the SMART Nomads account and my own account, walked over to the ATM, and used both cards.  I withdrew $20 then redeposited the $20.  How stupid is that?

      We gathered up the dirty clothes and did the wash.  They have a small shack with two washers and two dryers.  The cost was better than the last one – only $1.50 per washer and $1.00 for the dryers.

    Once we had the clothes put away, we drove into town to Lowe’s.  Paul needed to pick up a few things for the RV.  Next, we stopped at CVS to pick up some Halloween candy.  Neither of us thinks there will be any trick-or-treaters here in the campground but I thought it would be a good idea to have something on hand, just in case.  A family was here this past weekend.  They came in on Friday night and left Sunday afternoon.  They had three children and a dog.  Since Halloween will be on Saturday, it’s possible a family might come in to camp.

2020 Oct 25 (Sun) – It was a dreary, overcast day with rain on and off.  Every morning, we wake up to fog that slowly burns off as the sun rises.  The weather during the day has been decent even though it starts out cool in the 50s.  We stayed in all day.  Had soup and grilled cheese for lunch.  Attended church via Facebook.  Watched the crappy weather out the window.  Didn’t go anywhere, except to walk the dog.

2020 Oct 24 (Sat) – We drove to Great Dismal Swamp State Park today.  On the way there, we tried to stop at a Cracker Barrel for lunch but they were crowded and the wait time was 45 minutes.  We left and wound up stopping at a Wendy’s for lunch.  Poor choice but it was lunch time and everything was full.

    When we arrived at the park, we happily found the visitor center open.  After poking through it, we took a short hike on a trail.  It was a raised wooden walkway that wandered in a big loop through the woods.  A bridge passed over the intracoastal waterway.  It is a 22 mile canal that passes through the swamp.  It was very straight and disappeared on the horizon either way you looked.

    We then drove over an hour to Mattaponi in Virginia.  I lived there as a child in the summer of 1963.  It was a 12-room farm on a farm.  I wanted to try and find the place.  I found the town.  I found the river that used to run in back of the house where we fished.  And I found the paper mill that always seemed to stink up the air.  But I could not find the house.  Although the area is still pretty rural with farms, there were more houses in the area than I remember.  I guess 57 years makes a difference.  Lol.  

2020 Oct 23 (Fri) – We drove into town for lunch at Groupers Seafood Restaurant. We ate out on the deck looking out over the water.  It was a very pleasant day.  I got the lunch special – fried flounder, cole slaw, and hush puppies.  I tried to swap out the hush puppies but the waitress said there were no substitutions.  I also tried a red corn soup but it was too spicy.  Paul had clam chowder with a shrimp and scallop casserole.  

    I had our mail forwarded to a UPS package store.  I had tried to call three days ago to make sure they would accept the package but the number on their website was wrong.  It turned out to be some guy’s cell phone.  Their site said they accepted packages so I took a chance and had the mail forwarded there.  When I went in to pick the package up, they charged me an additional $5 because I didn’t let them know the package was coming.  WTH?  First, I paid to have the package mailed already.  Second, I couldn’t let them know it was coming because their number was no good.  And third, I was SAVING them money by their not having to put the package on a truck and bring it to me.  Boy, was I furious!  I was more angry with myself because I didn’t fight the charge and refuse to pay.  I groused and the guy gave me a business card with their correct phone number on it.  A lot of good that did me then!

2020 Oct 22 (Thu) – We packed up and left Blackstone, VA at 9:30 a.m.  The weather was good.  The RV GPS had us driving 40 miles more than what my iPhone GPS said so we followed my phone.  It took us along a lot of local routes but we had no difficulty and arrived at the US Coast Guard station in Elizabeth City at 12:45 p.m.  In addition to checking our IDs, they took our temperature. That was a new thing.  Since I had registered by phone, we already knew our campsite assignment.  We set up then I called to see if we had to come in to pay.  The clerk said no; that she had my card information and would run the charge.

    After giving the animals outside time, we went to the supermarket – Food Lion – to get some groceries.  They had the rows marked one way but nobody but us seemed to be paying attention to them.  It’s funny.  When we first pulled up into the parking lot at Food Lion, I saw several people with no masks.  For a second, that always fuels some kind of crazy hope that we stepped out of the nightmare and finally found a place where no one has heard about the corona virus. Then another person steps into the picture wearing a face mask and the bubble pops.

    When we got back, we found a business card from a fellow SMART member on the door.  Allen & Judy are also staying in the campground.  They are in another part of the base in the same area we stayed in last year.  We were here for Thanksgiving and because the campground was full, we had been assigned to a dirt lot in back of the BX.  We drove over and visited for an hour.  We met Allen & Judy during the Canadian Maritimes caravan in 2016.

9 Welsh Castles to Visit for History Lovers

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9 Welsh Castles to Visit for History Lovers

If you love history, Wales is the place for you. Did you know that the oldest Welsh castle was built in the year 1067? There is nothing that screams history more than the oldest Welsh castles.

Beyond the Welsh Castles, there is so much to see in the beautiful country of Wales such as museums, churches, beaches, sporting events, and beautiful parks.

With over 400 castles in Wales, it is basically bursting at the seams with historical treasures that can be explored by public transportation, walking paths or by car.

History fanatics can go far beyond the capital city of Cardiff and have the vacation of their lifetimes with the right itinerary of places to discover.

So with over 600 Welsh Castles to visit, and so little time, how does one know which are the best ones to see? Keep on reading to discover our list of the 9 best Welsh Castles to discover in Wales.

1. Cardiff Castle

Located just outside Bute park is the glorious and beautiful Cardiff Castle that was built back in 1865. The numerous times that this castle has been rebuild will astound you along with the Arab room and giant interior.

The Gothic palace was not actually designed the way it is now, it actually used to be a Roman Fort, Norman castle, medieval fortress, and other architectural designs.

2. Tenby

Tenby has repeatedly been named “People’s favorite place in Wales” for a good reason, it is a magical medieval city located right on the coast with beautiful beaches.

Even though it is a popular tourist attraction, Tenby is rarely too busy to enjoy it’s historical beauty and can be enjoyed any season of the year.

3. Carreg Cennen

Perched upon a rocky limestone cliff, Carreg Cennen Castle is perfectly located just outside the town of Llandeilo in Carmarthenshire. It is well worth the hike to get to the top, not only for the views but also for its resilient history.

Carreg Cennen was originally built by Rhys of Deheubarth in the 12th century and later rebuilt by John Giffard in the 13th century.

4. Pembroke Castle

Pembroke castle is the oldest and most preserved castle in all of Wales. This is due to the fact that it is one of the largest privately owned castles and was restored in the early 1900s.

It is located in Pembrokeshire in Southeast Wales and dates back to 1093 and is famously known as the birthplace of Henry VII.

5. Caerphilly Castle

When you visualize a castle, it is usually the architectural design like Caerphilly Castle. Located in the county of Gwent on a giant island in a large estate, this castle has the moat, curved towers, and even a guard house.

This castle was built on the site of an ancient Roman fort by Earl Gilbert de Clare in 1268 and was restored in the Victorian era to preserve its beauty.

6. Chepstow Castle

Built in 1067, Chepstow Castle is the oldest castle in all of Europe. It has beautiful wooden doors that date back over 800 years and is absolutely astonishing how it has kept together so well to this date.

Perhaps this is because it was continued to be built until the years 1670. Chepstow Castle is among the best castles in south Wales and should be on the top of any history fanatic’s list.

7. Beaumaris Castle

Because Beaumaris Castle was built in 1295, it was built with expertise from experienced castle architects such as James of St. George and King Edward I. It is located on the Isle Anglesey in Gwynedd County and is free for any visitors to explore its premises.

Beaumaris Castle has the idyllic rounded towers and portcullises between the inner and outer walls and contains a bridged moat that is connected right to the nearest seafront. This is a fun castle to explore for the entire family.

8. Conwy Castle

Built by King Edward 1 and James of St George between 1283 and 1289, Conwy Castle is a beautiful castle located on the north coast of Wales. The castle sits upon a large rocky hill and boasts scenery that tops many of the other Welsh castles.

Conwy Castle has eight towers, two entrances, and much more that can be experienced with a professionally guided tour of its premises.

9. Caernarfon Castle

Caernarfon Castle is a beautiful Edwardian style castle located on the mouth of the Seiont River in Caernarfon. It dates back to 1283 by (you guessed it!) James of St George once again.

This castle has a series of gates and towers, with multiple entrances to explore. Caernarfon Castle is amongst one of the best places to visit in Wales and should be on your itinerary.

How to Get Around

There are many ways to explore Wales and still have the time of your life. Rail is always favorited, or even other forms of public transportation like a bus. However, we highly suggest you rent a car and do the tour yourself, view here to learn more about oil and gas cards in Wales.

Explore More Historical Sites and Welsh Castles

There are many historical sites in Wales besides Welsh castles, however, you cannot say you have been to Wales without exploring the stunning castles listed above.

There are many other medieval sights and landscapes to see in Wales such as:

Solva

Saundersfoot

Snowdonia

St. Govan’s Chapel

Devil’s Bridge and the Hafod Estate

Brecon Beacons National Park

There are endless places to discover, so it all boils down to what type of vacation you want to experience.

If you want more advice to prepare for your next travel experience, check out more articles on our blog such as how to budget for your next travel adventure. Traveling is so rewarding and the last thing you want is financial reasons to hold you back.

In the Shadow of Red Mountain - TelShadow

In this Mod Author feature, we're catching up with [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/56842182]TelShadow [/url]who may well hold the record for most mods created for Morrowind.  [b]Let's start as we always do, please tell us about yourself for those in the community who don't know you yet. [/b] There isn't much to tell really. I come from a very creative family, which I'm sure helps me when coming up with new mod ideas. I'm a writer and an artist but, to be honest, I haven't really done any writing or drawing for fun in many years. I have instead been dedicating most of my spare time to modding. I tend to do very little else! I've done a little bit of modding every day for the last 3 years.  I also work as a tattoo artist, which is great for me as it's another avenue for creativity. When I'm not working or modding, of course, I like to play video games. [b]If you had to pick your top 3 favourite games of all time, which would you pick and why? [/b] Well, as you can probably guess, Morrowind has to be my number one - it was the first Elder Scrolls game I ever played. I remember picking it up about a year after it came out for the original Xbox. I fell in love with how alien the world was, the variety of things you could do and how rich the lore is. With all the factions, houses and guilds you could join it really is a great game to play over and over again, having a different adventure each time. For my second favourite, I'd have to say the games in the Halo franchise - hands down. It was a tough call between Halo and Morrowind for number one though. I really love the alien designs, the level structure and most importantly the story. Not unlike Morrowind, there's also rich lore to explore. I feel like I've covered 95% of the Morrowind lore, but with Halo, I've only scratched the surface.  My third and final choice might be surprising to some. It's Fallout 3. You might have been expecting me to say Fable and it was close, but Fallout 3 wins out thanks to its incredible world design and how your choices drive real changes in the world around you. I remember getting killed by a mole-rat and having to reload, so I went to exact some revenge only to discover the mole-rat had been killed by the DeathClaw now standing beside it. Like Halo and Morrowind, I also really enjoy the lore of this game. I enjoyed unravelling the mysteries of the pre-war world and coming up with my own theories about what happened.  As you can probably guess from my choices, I love anything with a large, alien world to explore and strong lore for me to immerse myself in.  [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1594391122-2038848737.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1594391126-162976364.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]Looking at your profile, it's pretty clear that Morrowind is the game you enjoy modding the most. What is it about the game that really draws you in?[/b] Morrowind is a part of me and has been a big part of my life since I first played it. I love the huge variety in your adventures based on your choices, your class and your play style. It's way more diverse than Oblivion or Skyrim. As I said before, I love how alien everything is. The Great Houses, the factions/guilds and the random encounters you come across really make the world feel lived in and that your choices have consequences. I would talk to all the characters and read every book to squeeze every little bit of lore out of the game. You can also do more silly things with the game. I remember stealing every single pillow from every corner of the world so I could build my own pillow fort.  I always joined the Great House Telvanni because I thought the mushroom architecture was really cool and I wanted to become a Telvanni Archmagister. It was always the first thing I did. It actually explains the origin of my username "Tel Shadow". My character would always be a Telvanni assassin so I started to name my character that, but I wanted to shorten it. So "Telvanni" became "Tel" and "assassin" became "shadow" which made sense because I was always lurking in the shadows. So that's how Tel Shadow the Telvanni assassin was born.  [b]You've created a staggering 246 Morrowind mods (at time of writing), where do you get your inspiration from when planning to make them? [/b] It's a mixed bag. Since I'm a creative person usually I can just sit down and make a mod. I usually already have an idea floating around in my head before I start, which is partly why I'm so fast at making mods. As the dungeon or mod grows I get flashes of inspiration and simply add in what I come up with. Maybe that's why some people say that I'm a Morrowind modding A.I.? In some cases, I do also tend to take inspiration from other games I've played. I've taken inspirations from Halo and the version of Morrowind found in The Elder Scrolls Online in a few of my mods, although I don't always mention where I got the idea in the mod description.  [b]Morrowind turned 18 in May this year, so it's incredible to see that the fanbase for this classic is still going strong. What do you think makes it so successful? [/b] For most of us, Morrowind was a game that we have fond memories of from when we first played it on PC or Xbox. Players can recount epic tales of all the different experiences they had based on their way of playing the game. With so much to do, there's also huge scope for things to be added or changed by using mods. An equally common experience may also be players who have come from Skyrim or Oblivion because they want more Elder Scrolls. Sometimes these players don't get along with Morrowind, often due to the "dice roll" combat system where your damage output relies entirely on RNG rather than if you actually hit your enemy or not. I don't see this as a problem but I suppose because I started with Morrowind I got used to it. With Morrowind being so moddable and the Elder Scrolls lore being so vast, creating and using mods in the massive, alien world definitely helps in making it infinitely replayable. There are huge modding projects such as [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/42145]Tamriel Rebuilt[/url], [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/42081]Project Tamriel[/url] and [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/37795]Morrowind Rebirth[/url] that are still active today and can add tonnes of new content to explore. You can even use the Morrowind engine to make an entirely new game, as seen in [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/47768]Starwind[/url]. The [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/news/14258]Morrowind Modathons[/url] and [url=https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCTiULQ_bcPRu_jMTZ86WO7A]Showcases[/url] by [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/users/19250]darkelfguy [/url]are also a massive factor as to why Morrowind continues to be so successful. I was watching his videos for years and they are part of what inspired me to start modding myself.  Morrowind will never die because our ideas and experiences with the game live on, no matter what.  [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1594391130-1843652118.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1594391135-963779626.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]Have you played much of the newer Elder Scrolls titles (Oblivion and Skyrim) and how do you compare them with Morrowind? [/b] I have played both games on my Xbox 360 actually. I played Oblivion to get those sweet Xbox achievements and Skyrim for the awesome dragons. I think the majority of Morrowind players will agree that the gameplay formula has been "dumbed down" in each iteration following it. I heard this was partly because the main lore writer for Morrowind left Bethesda before these games were released, but I'm not sure how true that is.  Oblivion was a very colourful game and was a medieval fantasy game that came out while Lord of the Rings was in the spotlight, so that definitely helped make it popular. Skyrim, by contrast, had a very dull/muted theme and felt a lot more Viking styled. To me, comparing these games to Morrowind is like day and night. In Skyrim, for example, there are only a small number of guilds you can join and interact with compared to the many options in Morrowind. It's like comparing a Viking-themed dragon killing RPG (Skyrim) to Dungeons & Dragons on steroids (Morrowind). [b]Back to modding, can you tell us about your workflow for creating mods?[/b] A lot of authors I've spoken to hold my workflow in high regard, probably part of the reason I get called "modding machine" and other nicknames. When I first picked up the [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/42196]Construction Set[/url] I spent two weeks learning everything I could about it. In that time I managed to figure out all the world design features and became a pro at using them. If you've ever watched YouTube speed painting videos, that's pretty close to the speed I work at when making mods.  When planning out my mods I do things in layers. For example, if I'm making a landmass, I'll start by marking out the size and shape of the landscape, then add ground textures, then add objects like trees and rocks. After going over detailing it a few times I have the basic setup done and I move onto adding more complex things. I like to do things in order as it helps me track my progress. I find it also helps sometimes to keep notes or a checklist of problems I need to fix as I work through it. [b]What advice would you give a new modder who'd like to create a new dungeon or level in their favourite game?  [/b] My advice might be a little controversial, most authors suggest starting small and working your way up to something big but I would say do the opposite. When you're making those first, smaller mods it's usually more about learning the tools than creating something you actually want to make. Starting with a bigger project allows you to work on different parts of your mod and learn the tools as you go, with the end result being much closer to your original idea. The size of the mod isn't important, it's more about your drive. If you're truly motivated to create something large, go for it!  Push yourself and learn your limits, then find ways to exceed those limits. We can all achieve great things if you put our minds to it. [center][img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1594391468-486795442.jpeg[/img] [img]https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/2295/images/26/26-1594391471-1378499871.jpeg[/img][/center] [b]Out of all the mods you've created, which is your favourite?[/b] I love mostly all my Morrowind mods but I'm going to cop out a little bit here and say only three: [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/45951]Fablewind [/url]- which recreates all the Fable games into the Morrowind engine, [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/47201]Tel Felisa[/url] - a Telvanni town inspired around Felisa (one of the Telvanni members), and last but not least, [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/48227]Shadow of Colossus[/url] - one of my Halo inspired mods.   [b]How about mods by other authors, are there any that really stand out to you?[/b]  As sad as it sounds, I haven't really played Morrowind in a while other than to make mods for it. So I don't really play with many mods by other people for them to catch my attention. That's not to say I don't have some favourites though: [list] [*][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/34046]Of Justice and Innocence[/url] by [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/users/19250]darkelfguy[/url]: He isn't just a great YouTuber, he also makes some really good quest mods.  [*][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/morrowind/mods/43181]Hold It[/url] by [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/1233897]Danae123[/url]: This is a really cool immersion mod. Danae is also really helpful when it comes to testing my own mods.  [*][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/fallout4/mods/40401]Drop the N'wah[/url] and [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/22905]A Female Dunmer Preset[/url] by [url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/38638175?tab=user+files]BUULU[/url]: These are a couple of my favourites for Fallout 4 and Skyrim SE. I also enjoy watching his reviews of my mods [url=https://www.twitch.tv/buulu]on Twitch[/url]. [/list] [b]Is there anything else you'd like to say to the community?[/b] Keep making mods, no matter which game you're modding. We all have our moments, our ups and downs. It can be hard to keep working on a project but push yourself and see it through to the end as you never know what's on the other side.  [quote]Legends aren't born, they're created.[/quote]- Tel Shadow [line] A big thank you to TelShadow for taking the time to talk to us! If there's an author or mod project you'd like to know more about, send your suggestions to [b][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/64597]BigBizkit[/url][/b] or [b][url=https://www.nexusmods.com/users/31179975]Pickysaurus[/url][/b].  Published first at In the Shadow of Red Mountain - TelShadow

A pair of racehorces. By Shaikh Muhammad Amir of Karraya (1830-1850). Courtesy: Christie

PRELUDE Not until the British revamped army to recapture Calcutta in 1757, horses in India had the leading role in wars, and in everyday public and private life as well. Gradually the other two robust animals, camels and elephants, were being withdrawn from military and public services. The demands for suitable horses grew manifolds, and so was the prospect of horsetrading in India that attracted horse dealers from around the world to come and stay in Bombay, Madras and Calcutta engaging themselves in all kinds of horse-related enterprises, including horse auctions, livary stable services, saddlery, fodder supply, coach building, veterinary services, equestrian schools.

HORSE IN INDIA

India had an indigenous supply of excellent elephants, but not many good horses. Yet the horse of ‘Ashwamedha’ fame served as a symbol of power and glory in Indian tradition. There are evidences of horse riding in the era of Rikveda. [Coomaraswamy] The earliest known work on veterinary science  India’s Shalihotra-sanghita, proves how seriously the fitness of horses was taken care of. Even so, India had to depend much on imported war horses since the indigenous horses were found inadequate for battlefront and their high war mortality rate. The good horses were imported to the Mughal state from Arabia, Iran, Turan, Turkey,Turkestan, Badakhshan, Shirwan, Qirghiz, Tibbet, Kashmir and other countries. Kabul and Qandhar were the major entrepots on the land-routes for the horse traders. While horses from Central Asia came to India by the overland route, Persian and Arabian horses were largely brought by the sea. [Khan] The ports of Surat, Cambay, Kutch, Thatta, Lahori Bandar and Sonargoan in Bengal were the major entrepots for the bahri horses brought for breeding. In order to establish control over the horse trade, the Mughal Emperors established friendly and diplomatic relations with the neighbouring countries. [Choudhary]

COUNTRY-BREEDS The Indian Country-bred, generally plain heads, long necks, narrow chests, strong hooves and low-set tails, archaically known as tattoo, vary from good-quality riding horses to small and poorly-conformed animals used for pack and draught work. They derive from many diverse horse breeds and types, including the small horses of the Himalayas of northern India, and the strong horses of the Punjab. Outside influences include Arab horses imported to Bombay and Veraval from the Persian Gulf, and the Australian Walers imported in very large numbers in the nineteenth century to Calcutta via Madras. The Indian Half-bred is a cross-breed between Thoroughbred stallions and local and imported mares of various types, raised mainly by the Indian Army as a cavalry mount. Apart from the regulars, the Militia Cavalry also required to be equipped with horses as well. It is also used by the Indian Police Service, as a polo pony, and for recreational and competitive riding. The most distinguished Indian high-breeds are:

Bhutia –       Like Mongolian and Tibbetian horses,

Kathiawari – Western India breed intended to be a desert war horse,

Manupuri –  Famous for their unruffled demeanour and learning ability,

Marwari –    As an ambling gait and a superior level of hardiness ,

Spiti –          A mountain-based breed,

Zaniskari –  In many respect similar to Spiti, Chmmarti – A well-muscled, can easily survive cold temperatures, and

Deccani –   Arabian and Turkic crossbreeds with local ponies; “a perfect compendium of all the qualities required in a campaigner. ”He doubted if even the war-born Arabian Badoo can be deemed the superior of the ponies bred on the banks of the Bhima and Tapti”. [Burckhardt]

  HORSES IN CALCUTTA Bengal never had any better horses than the Bhutia and the Manipuri breeds of local origin. So long the Sonargaon river port was in operation, Bengal not only received regular supplies of imported horses, but also witnessed the transportation of some of these war machines to the Deccan and China. [Chakrabarti]. The other centre was the Sonepur Cattle Fair for one month long trading of animals – the largest in Asia.

Esplanade . Artist: William Daniell (1769-1837)James Baillie Fraser.1814

Horse Bathing in Ganges near Prinsep Ghat. near

Horsemen near Old Fort (Tank Square) (now CliveStreet)_Charles D’Oyly1842. Courtesy:_BL

The emergence of Bengal as a regional political entity during the early medieval times must have increased the demand for war horses, but it was never so desperately pressing as the English felt after they lost the 1756 Battle of Calcutta. “The question of our horse supply, though primarily a military one, is far from exclusively so.” [Burckhardt] Burckhardt was right. Life in Calcutta literally depended much on horse power, otherwise Calcutta would have remained stand still even though there had been elephants, camels and bullocks roaming on roads carrying passengers and goods. None of those animals were as agile and sportive as the horses in battlefields, roads and lanes, racing grounds, or ambling for a promenade.

Since the city was rebuilt on the ashes of 1756 Battle horses were being imported in huge quantities particularly from Arabia, Britain and Australia.

A Horse and His Trader, circa 1800 Painting; Watercolor, Opaque / Artist: Bagta. Los Angeles County Museum of Art

ARAB HORSE The oldest pure breed in the world, Arab horse is actually the horse of the  the wandering Arab – the true Bedouin. The animal possesses incomparable virtue as reverend of hardship and master of abstinence. Its strength and stamina apart a particular form of elegance has made it an enviable sire to breed superior horses everywhere in the world. Either directly or indirectly, the Arabian contributed to the formation of virtually all the modern breeds of light horse. As found in some critical studies, the qualities of the Arabian horses in foreign lands considerably vary. The characteristics of the Arabian horses in India differ from those bred in Syria, Mesopotamia and Persia. [Curr]

The Arabian is a symmetrical saddle-horse, not a racer – with a bright, alert outlook and great pride of bearing. Men who look only at their stop-watches may be disappointed; but not they who love to look on horses racing. [Daumas] As the people of Persia and Arabia didn’t like mares to go out of their countries, the horses traded were invariably stallions. Over centuries of similar trading – the earlier influx was in the Mughal era – it’s thought the native horses and ponies of India thus gained a lot of Persian and Arabian horse genes. In Bombay during the British era, Arab horse dealers set up stables for selling – most held 1,000 to 1,500 horses. [Lane]

  ENGLISH HORSE The East India Company in an endeavour to improve the native breeds of horses established a special department, called ‘Stud Department’ in 1794. Both for political and economic reasons, the Company desired India should produce the horses necessary to mount both British and native cavalry, and to horse the artillery. Colonel Hallen gave a list of thirteen country-breeds of Indian horses described as ” possessing good powers of endurance, and showing thereby blood, but generally wanting in size, and many too small for the work of the Indian Army, constituted as it now is ; though some of purely local breeds can be found fit for native cavalry.” [Gilbey}

European man with a horse in India by Bourne & Shepherd, 1882. Source: Commons

Militia Cavalry of the East India Company

After four decades the British raj abandoned the project, and set up the ‘Army Remount and Horse-Breeding Departments’ in 1876 to introduce the ‘Diffused System’ , which used the Thoroughbred sires and India mares treating the thirteen different Indian breeds of horse as one, all mares being classed as ‘country-bred mares’.  The animal got by the English thoroughbred “is, as a rule, handsome in top and outlines of back, hind quarters, and carriage of head and tail, but is often shallow in girth and back rib, light in barrel, and from 70 to 8o per cent, are leggy and deficient in bone of limb. Diseases of legs are more common among thoroughbred stock. It provided no means nor machinery whereby the result of using any given stallion on any given mare can he ascertained. Sir John Watson’s gravest objection is that because of the ‘Diffused System’ there does not now exist in India even an experimental stud in which the results of different crosses can be observed. [Glibey]

AUSTRALIAN HORSE Horses first arrived in Australia in 1788, with the First Fleet of prisoners. Like the Arab and the Deccan pony, Waler owes his qualities to the conditions of life amid which he is bred and not on their stud-farms managed on English principles, but chiefly on the grasses which he can pick up for himself on Nature’s own bountiful bosom. Australian horse traders chiefly sold horses to India – where the Waler got its name picked from “New South Waler” – a horse from Australia. In India many famous men and regiments rode Walers – from the Viceroys and Rajah’s down, but pricey for common civilians, like Rudyard Kipling’s father John Kipling who always adored a Waler but could never afford to buy one. [Lane]

European man with a horse in India by Bourne & Shepherd, 1882. Source: Commons

New Mode of Shipping Horses to India.. Wood engraging. 1880. Courtesy: Waler portal

Lumsden Horse on parade.Calcutta_Bourneand shepherd_18xx. Source:AngloBoerWarMedal c 1875-6

In 1836, the first Governor of Perth city, Admiral Sir James Stirling, received an anonymous letter from Calcutta enquiring about a spot in Albany that can combine good climate and port facility for the purpose of breeding and exporting quality horses for catering the needs of the British India cavalry. A decade after The Hobart Town Courier of 30 January 1845 reported export of horses from Australia to India for the first time. The ‘Waler’ horses were exported from Sydney to the Indian Presidencies. Australia was chosen as an alternative source not only for being the closest supplier but also because of its breed of healthy horse. Horse buyers from India representing the Remount service would attend horse sales in Adelaide. Kidman’s annual horse sales held at Kapunda attracted local and Indian Army horse buyers. In turn, there were South Australians who bought horses from overseas to breed their own stock with and so improve their horses’ speed. Some horse dealers like the Pathan tribesmen from the Quetta, in Pishin district, took their horses down the Ganges Valley, most likely as far as Calcutta, where they sold some horses to Australians.’

In the end, Australia became the principal supplier to the 39 regiments of Indian Cavalry and about 7 more of the British Cavalry, each consisting of 1000 horses. The over all demand was pretty high, indeed, even without taking into account the fact that ‘people did play polo, apart from just hacks’, and horse racing became popular recreation around 1810. [Westrip]

A pair of racehorces.By Shaikh Muhammad Amir of Karraya (1830-1850). Courtesy: Christie

HORSE MARKETING IN CALCUTTA In Calcutta horse business initially started in Loll Bazaar- Cossaitollah locality then moved toward Dhurrumtollah where several horse liveries and stables grew to provide all round professional services. In Burraha Bazaar there is still having a locus called Pageya Patty, which might have been earlier a market sector for horse trading, as because the rare and homonymous Bengali word ‘pageya’ (পগেয়া) is used for a ‘breed of horse’ from a particular province’. [চৌধুরী]

The earliest livery stables, as recorded, were established adjacent to the celebrated 18th century tavern, Harmonica, by certain Mr. Meredith. The erstwhile Meredith’s Lane, which connected Bentinck Street with Chandney Choke Lane, derived its name from this Mr. Meredith’s Livery Stables. In Cossaitollah also was the shop of Mr. Oliphant ‘Coach-maker’, the rival of Messrs Steuart and Co., at Old Court House Corner. On Chitpore Road there existed a horse mart, few stables and coach-factories. With the southward expansion of the Calcutta township across Govindapore a number of new horse establishments clustered on Dhurrumtollah Street, to cater all kinds of horse related services and facilities to private and corporate clientele. The most known horse sellers and livary stable keepers among them were: TF Brown & Co. (Partner: Thomas Flitcher Brown), Cook & Co. (Partner: T. Greenhill), Hunter & Co (Partner: John Sherriff). Martin & Co. (Partner: J.P. Martin), and T. Smith & Co.  The Grand Hotel in Calcutta had a “Waler Corner” where Australian horse traders met; often after the horses were sold at the Army Remount Depot at Alipore. Some traders such as Jim Robb also stayed in Calcutta.

HORSE CULTURE IN CALCUTTA Horse induces a sense of freedom from monotony – a sportive spirit to win the best at work and leisure. In Colonial Calcutta leisure and recreation became indispensable parts of the social and cultural life of Europeans and native aristocrats. [Mukherjee] Horses have had the primary role to play in the new form of recreation culture, such as hunting, playing polo, horse racing, fencing and pleasure riding.All these were being played in India since long. Yet it was the British who brought some characteristic changes into the games by introducing new sets of rules acceptable worldwide as standards. These reinvented games, however, were meant to be played exclusively by the ‘whites’. For long, natives were not allowed to approach playgrounds, the Respondentia Walk or the King’s Bench Walk on the riverside, the Eden Gardens, and select parts of the Maidan. Mountain Police patrolled the areas to protect the white people’s privilege, besides their regular duty of escorting shipments from river-ports to the safe location. In a changed environment of collaborative Anglo-Indian enterprise, native aristocrats started taking part in all masculine brands of outdoor games.

MOUNTED GAMES

Driving tiger out of a jungle; colored sketch by Thomas Williamson. Source: East India Vade Mecum. 1810

Hunting Hunting wild beasts on horseback is an ancient frantic game that the Europeans much loved to play while in India. The practice of chasing and killing wild animals, what the food-gathering humans commonly did for their survival and defence, turned into a trigger-happy recreation for power loving civilized people. The oriental princes, British and European civilians and dignitaries were the ones most interested in the game locally known as shikar. There were wild habitats all over the country in every province. One of the most tiger-infested jungles, Sundarban was stretched up to Govindapore before the Fort William II constructed. They say, Warren Hastings had a luck to shoot a Royal Bengal tiger on the spot where the St. Paul Cathedral stands today. [Cotton] Chitah hunting at Barrackpore Park was a favourite sport for the Governors-Genral and Viceroys since Wellesley ’s time. King George V had shot no less than 39 tigers and 4 bears when he visited Nepal in 1911. After half a century, his granddaughter Queen Elizabeth when visited India, wished she had a live calf as bait in her tiger hunting expedition. The wish remained unfulfilled due to Mr. Nehru’s interference. An estimated 80,000 of tigers were killed from 1875–1925 and probably more till 1971 when hunting tigers was totally banned. In modern world the hunting has been redefined in terms of fishing, wildlife photography, birdwatching and the like sport items that do not threaten worldlife. [Dasgupta]

  Polo Polo, often referred to as ‘the game of kings’, was invented and played by the commoners of Manipore, where the world’s oldest polo-ground, Mapal Kangjeibung, still exists. From obscure beginnings in Manipore, the modern version of polo was developed and soon being played in the Maidan by two British soldiers, Captain Robert Stewart and Major General Joe Sherer.

A polo game: the dervish and the shah on the polo field from a Guy u Chawgan by Arifi (d.1449). Courtesy: Smithsonian Nat.MuseumAsian Art

Calcutta Polo Club of 1862 Drawing by unidentified artst. Source: justGo

Manipore Polo Team’s first visit to the Calcutta Polo Club in 1884. Courtesy: HindusthanTimes. Possibility photographer: Bourne. 1864

They  established the Calcutta Polo Club in 1861, and later spread the game to their peers in England. The club runs the oldest and first ever Polo Trophy, the Ezra Cup (1880). The modern Polo has been necessarily a sport meant exclusively for wealthy people capable of meeting its fabulous expenses and extensive leisure time that the heads of the princely states, high ranked British military and administrative personnel. Prominent teams of the period included the chiefs of the princely states of Alwar, Bhopal, Bikaner, Jaipur, Hyderabad, Patiala, Jodhpur, Kishengarh and Kashmir. The majority of the Cavalry regiments of the British Army and the British Indian Army also fielded teams. The civil service bureaucrats to whom the sports and pastimes peculiar to the country are accessible ‘upon a scale of magnificence and affluence unknown to the English sportsman, who ranges the fields with his gun and a brace of pointers, and seeks no nobler game than the partridge or the hare’. [Cotton] The gorgeous game of polo attracted the fanciful young minds, irrespective of financial constraints, if any. Winston Churchill loved polo and played the game vigorously. Aga Khan the celebrated racehorse owner and equestrian found in young Churchill, then an officers of the Fourth Hussars stationed at Bangalore, an irrepressible, and promising polo player. In November 1896 Churchill’s team won a silver cup worth £60. [Langworth ] “Polo became a game that in many ways, did more than ambassadors to promote goodwill in the days a man was judged by his horse…” . [Lane]

  Horse Racing Horse racing, one of the oldest of all sports, developed from a primitive contest of speed or stamina between two horses. In the modern era, horse racing developed from a diversion of the leisure class into a huge public-entertainment business.

Calcutta being the first centre of British power in India commanding large cavalry regiments, all mounted sports such as hunting, polo and racing were encouraged to be played. Organized horse races were first held in India on 16 January 1769 at Akra, near Calcutta, where they were held on a rough, narrow, temporary course for the next three decades. Lord Wellesley, as soon he arrived India in 1798, stopped horse racing and all sorts of gambling. After a lull the Calcutta Races again commenced under the patronage of Lord Moira. In 1812 the Bengal Jockey Club laid out a new course in the southwest part of the Maidan. A viewing stand was built in 1820 to watch racing horses in the  cool of mornings just after sunrise.  The Calcutta Derby Stakes began in 1842, where maiden Arabs ran over 2.5 miles. Five years after the Calcutta Turf Club was founded on 20 February 1847.  In 1856 the Calcutta Derby was replaced by the Viceroy’s Cup. In 1880 public interest in racing grew when races started to be held in the afternoons, and new stands were built.

A Grey Racehorse and a Groom. Pencil and watercolour by Sheikh Muhammad Amir. Courtesy: Christies

Race Cource Calcutta. Undated/ photographer unknown. Source: Hippostcard (New Market)

Racing becomes Calcutta’s biggest wintertime attraction, except during a Royal visit —”and then the Turf Club contrives to work the two things very much together. For months women have studied pictured lists from Piccadilly, searching for something to wear at the Races. New milliners’ signs adorn the city’s streets, as short lived as the flies, just for the Racing season. The Indian has unpacked his shawls of many colours only to sport it on the crowded course where the patterned shoulders work a mosaic that is hardly ever seen in a human picture.” Minney who visited Calcutta in early 1920s left a spectacular description of the city in sunny winter. “Gay and busy, it is a season that attracts a multitude from the world’s four comers. They come for the racing,, they come for frivolity, but they come primarily for the climate. … Calcutta would become the most coveted place in this sad globe, more cursed than blessed with climate.” [Minney]

Horse Riding The horse is a partner and friend of humans for more than 5,000 years, and the art of horseback riding, or equestrianism, took most of it to be evolved, of necessity, with maximum understanding and a minimum of interference with the horse. In Colonial Calcutta, as the contemporary narratives reveal, riding was not a monopoly of the cavalry and the rich who rode for sport, as it was the case elsewhere till the 20th century. After Plassey, in the revived Calcutta society, horse riding was regarded as a valued social asset and symbol of prestige.

Portrait of a lady rider with her horse and indian groomsman. Like the photograph taken by Thomas Alfred Rust. Courtesy: Cabinet Card Gallery

The Course at Calcutta. Drawing by ADA Claxton.c1859 Source: Alamy

Girls on horseback on Calcutta Road. Date unknown. Photographer unknown. Courtesy: Open Magazine.

The opening of many new riding clubs and stables has made riding and horsemanship accessible to a much larger segment. Calcutta then was different in too many counts, but “nothing in which we differ more remarkably from them than in the distribution of our time”. In the early days of Calcutta, the midday dinner and the afternoon siesta were recognized institutions.  “The dinner hour here is two,” wrote Mrs Fay. In the days of Warren Hastings “reposing, if not of sleeping, after dinner is so general that the streets of Calcutta are, from four to five in the afternoon, almost as empty for Europeans as if it were midnight. Next come to the evening airings on the course, where everyone goes, though sure of being half-suffocated with dust.” [Cotton] The scene here in the evening was very lively ; soldiers exercising in the square; officers riding on horseback, or driving in gigs ; the band playing on the esplanade; groups promenading. [Bellow] About this garden, as well as the Maidan and Strand Road and to the south of the Eden Garden are the places to see and to be seen, because all the grand folks of Calcutta of an evening go on foot, or riding, or in beautiful barouches, broughams, phaetons, buggies, etc., drawn by beautiful horses. [Cesry]

Good riding and driving horses may be had from 400 to 600 rupees each, Arabs for a bit more.  On setting up housekeeping in Calcutta, or in the provinces, a new recruit in civil service earning Rupees 400 a month, must provide himself with bed, tables, chairs, cooking utensils, china, plate, table linen, a buggy, and buggy horse, and a riding-horse.  The buggy being kept then principally for business, visits, and day trips, the riding-horse is requisite for morning and evening exercise. [Roberts] During the days of Cornwallis, they used to get on horseback just as the dawn of day begins to appear, ride on the same road and the same distance, pass the whole forenoon. [Bagchi] The Eden sisters, particularly Emily, was extremely fond of riding horse wherever they go.  She found riding a foot’s pace cooler than the carriage. The air she felt coming more round one on horseback than in the carriage. She had a little pony-carriage with no head to it, and wicker sides, and extremely light, and that was much the coolest conveyance they had; besides that, she says “it will go in roads which will not admit of our carriage” [Eden] After nearly four decades, in a more liberal colonial climate we find Jyotindranath Tagore along with his young wife Kadambari Devi riding on their horses down Chitpore Road to the Eden Garden for an evening prom. [Sen]

The pleasure of horse riding has been an added attraction for the European settlers in Calcutta. Except the army horsemanship, ambling or easy walking on horseback was the most popular mode of riding – a slow, four-beat, rhythmic pace of distinct successive hoof beats in an order. Alternately it may be extended walk of long, unhurried strides. One needed to undergo a systematic training to execute precisely any of a wide range of maneuvers, from the simplest riding gaits to the most intricate and difficult airs. This was true for the British and Indian soldiers as well as the civilian men and women. The first Riding school was established in Calcutta as early as in 1790s followed by more in the next century to teach whoever interested irrespective of sex and age. The untold stories behind those early Riding Schools will be posted next.

  REFERENCE

Bagchi, P. C. (1938). The Second city of the Empire. Calcutta: Indian Science Congress Assoc. Calcutta: Indian Science Congress.

Bellow, F. J. (1880). Memoirs of a griffin; or, A cadet’s first year in India. London: Allen. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/memoirsagriffin00bellgoog/page/n5/mode/2up

Burckhardt, J. L. (1831). Notes of the Bedouine and Wahabees collected during his travel in the East;vol; vol.1(2). London: Bentley. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/notesonbedouins00burcgoog/page/n6/mode/2up

Cesry, R. (1818). Indian Gods, sages and cities. Calcutta: Catholic Orphan Press. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/in.ernet.dli.2015.128152

Chakravart, R. (1999). Early Medieval Bengal and the trade in horses: a note. No Title. Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient., 42(2). Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/3632335

Coomaraswamy, A. K. (1942). Horse-Riding in the Rgveda and Atharvaveda.No Title. Journal of the American Oriental Society. Vol. 62, No. 2 (Jun., 1942), Pp. 139-140. Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/594467

Cotton, E. (1909). Calcutta old and new: a historical and descriptive handbook of the city. Calcutta: Newman.

Curr, E. M. (1863). Pure saddle-horses, and how to breed them in Australia. Melbourne: Wilson and Mackinnon. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/puresaddlehorses01curr/page/n6/mode/2up

Dasgupta, R. R. (n.d.). Killing for sport: To live, we Indians need to let live too. Retrieved from https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/blogs/SilkStalkings/killing-for-sport-to-live-we-indians-need-to-let-live-too/

Daumas, E. (1863). Horses of the Sahara, and the manners of the desert. London: Allen. Retrieved from https://archive.org/details/horsesofsahara00daum/page/n7/mode/2up

Eden, E. (1872). Letters from India; vol.1. London: Bentley. Retrieved from https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/eden/letters/letters.html

Gilbey, W. (1906). Horse breeding in England and India and army horses abroad. London: Vinton.

Jaccob, J. (1858). The Views and opinions of Brigadier-General John Jaccob. CB; (C. L. Pelly, Ed.). London: Smith & Elder. Retrieved from https://books.google.co.ao/books?id=mn9CAAAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover&hl=pt-PT&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false

Khan., I. A. (1984). The Import of Persian horses in India 13-17th centuries. In Proceedings of the Indian History Congress. (pp. 346–351). Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/i40173319

Lane, J. (2016). Buying Walers. Retrieved from https://walers.blogspot.com/2016/07/buying-walers-australian-horse-traders.html

Langworth, B. F. (n.d.). Churchill and Polo: The Hot Pursuit of His Favorite Team Sport, Part 1. Retrieved from https://winstonchurchill.hillsdale.edu/polo-churchills-favorite-team-sport/

Minney, R. (1922). Round about Calcutta. Calcutta: OUP. Retrieved from http://archive.org/details/roundaboutcalcut00minnrich

Mukherjee, S. (2011). Leisure and recreation in colonial Bengal: A sociocultural study. In IHC: Proceedings, 71st Session, 2010-11. Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/44147545?seq=1

Roberts, E. (1839). The East India voyager, or, Ten minutes advice to the outward boun. London: Madden. Retrieved from https://trove.nla.gov.au/work/193246575?q&versionId=211570278

Sen, A. P. (1993). Hindu Revivalism in Bengal, 1872–1905: Some Essays in Interpretation. New Delhi: OUP. Retrieved from https://books.google.com.au/books?id=ZCwpDwAAQBAJ&pg=PT47&lpg=PT47&dq=jyotirindranath+maidan+horse&source=bl&ots=mpVG5W2xkS&sig=ACfU3U30J0X-sa2ToOMLn1AjgzWARWVcaA&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjwkJOUrajoAhVaeX0KHYMGCRsQ6AEwAHoECAkQAQ#v=onepage&q=jyotirindranath m

Westrip, Joyce P, and P. H. (2010). Colonial Cousins: A Surprising History of Connections Between India and Australia. Kent Town: Wakefield. Retrieved from https://books.google.co.in/books?id=ALbaCwe6VHkC&pg=PR4&lpg=PR4&dq=A+surprising+history+of+connections+between+India+and+Australia+by+Joyce+Westrip+and+Peggy+Holroyde&source=bl&ots=zzor8RrxQ1&sig=ACfU3U1NylPfKTO2iTXbYFNByhjgvS-0zQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjspeP3yILnAhXs73MBHUpTCMw4ChDoATAFegQICBAB#v=onepage&q=horse&f=false

চৌধুরী, প্রমথ. (1914). চুটকি। প্রবন্ধ সংগ্রহ

https://bn.wikisource.org/wiki/%E0%A6%AA%E0%A6%BE%E0%A6%A4%E0%A6%BE:%E0%A6%AA%E0%A7%8D%E0%A6%B0%E0%A6%AC%E0%A6%A8%E0%A7%8D%E0%A6%A7_%E0%A6%B8%E0%A6%82%E0%A6%97%E0%A7%8D%E0%A6%B0%E0%A6%B9_-_%E0%A6%AA%E0%A7%8D%E0%A6%B0%E0%A6%AE%E0%A6%A5_%E0%A6%9A%E0%A7%8C%E0%A6%A7%E0%A7%81%E0%A6%B0%E0%A7%80.pdf/%E0%A7%A7%E0%A7%A6%E0%A7%AA

              HORSES AND MOUNTED GAMES IN COLONIAL CALCUTTA

PRELUDE Not until the British revamped army to recapture Calcutta in 1757, horses in India had the leading role in wars, and in everyday public and private life as well.

HORSES AND MOUNTED GAMES IN COLONIAL CALCUTTA PRELUDE Not until the British revamped army to recapture Calcutta in 1757, horses in India had the leading role in wars, and in everyday public and private life as well.

Our friends Lyn and Ty Gilbert are always in favor of going on an adventure and we rarely refuse an opportunity to explore with them. The four of us have the greatest time heading into the unknown. You may recall our adventures previously that took us to the end of the road. A little over a week ago they asked if we would like to go to Shelter Bay to explore the area.

Shelter Bay is at the north end of the Panama Canal. Previously the only access to the bay and its magnificent marina was by boat or a ferry ride across the north end of the Panama Canal. Recently the Atlantic Bridge across the canal was completed which made access to this area a little easier. When we reached the bridge it was a great surprise to find almost no one using it. At first glace I thought that this must be the bridge to nowhere. It basically starts and ends in dense jungle. When we reached the west side of the bridge the roads leading away were all narrow and rough. Ty says eventually a nice road will take people from the bridge to the new copper mine where he works. Otherwise there is a long stretch of undeveloped ocean front from there to Bocas del Toro. The Caribbean coast is very pretty but not as accessible as the Pacific The dense jungle has a little bit to do with how populated this area is.

The new bridge across the Panama Canal

Our first stop after crossing the bridge was the gate at Fort Sherman. Fort Sherman was a U.S. army base tasked with protecting the north end of the canal. The gate is protected by a Panamanian Aero-Naval company. We told them that we were going to Shelter Bay and they let us pass. Once inside the base we were amazed to see how the Panamanians had allowed the unused base to fall apart and deteriorate after the American military was pulled out. Panama uses some of the former U.S. Military buildings in the canal zone, but has little use for a lot of it. By the way, since President Carter returned the Panama Canal to the people of Panama it has done very well and even expanded under the management of The Panama Canal Authority. The Panamanian Government does not technically run the canal. It is owned by all the people and decisions for its operations are made by directors who are elected to their positions.

The barracks at Fort Sherman Army base are deserted.

Shelter Bay lies on the west side of the north end of the canal. It is on the Caribbean and like all of Panama is virtually exempt from hurricane activity. Many people from North America sail south to safety here during hurricane season. We found the marina which is on the former Fort Sherman Army base to be very busy and almost at capacity.  The marina has a restaurant, pool, stores and just about anything people will need who typically live aboard their boat. They even have scheduled bus trips to Colon and Panama City for shopping and entertainment. We were there to pick up some paint for Ty and Lyn’s boat.

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Marina at Shelter Bay

Marina at Shelter Bay

Marina at Shelter Bay

After we picked up Ty’s paint, we headed south through the jungle. After driving a couple of Kilometers we reached a ranger station for Parque National. The park is part of the extensive National Park system of Panama, however I could not find a name for it. Several of these guys came to meet us as we entered the park. They are called Coate’, and they are a little bit like a racoon. We found them very friendly and nearly as welcoming as a dog. They probably thought we would feed them.

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Coate’

Coate’

Several kilometers of driving through the jungle in the park we found ourselves once again at the end of the road. The road ended where the Chagres River meets the Caribbean on a point where the early Panamanians protected the trade route. This place was called Fort San Lorenzo Castle. It is a protected historical site and it is a great place to explore. In the late 1400’s early settlers would take their wares by land from the Pacific to a place in the mountains near what is now Gamboa. From there they would travel down the Chagres River to the Caribbean. This trade route had to be protected from the pirates. The Chagres river is now the source of much of the water used for the operation of the Panama Canal.

We found Fort San Lorenzo very fascinating. As we traveled through the jungle we were doubtful that we would find other people at the end of the road. We did, however, find many people there exploring. The price of admission was $3.00. The fort lies on a point where the Chagres river meets the Caribbean Sea. We learned that the original fort was built in 1595. After the fort was built it was first attacked in 1596 by English pirate Sir Francis Drake. The fort was continuously attacked until the original wood fort was destroyed by Sir Henry Morgan in 1671. Morgan then went over land to attack Panama City. These pirates were very interested in this area because early settlers brought gold from South and Central America across land into the jungle high in the mountains near what is now Gamboa. There they took it in boats down the Chagres River to the Caribbean where it went by ship to America. This trade route had to be protected from these pirates. Fort San Lorenzo Palace was part of the triangle of protection which ran from Gamboa to here to the ruins near Portobelo called Fuerte San Jeronimo. We explored the ruins near Portobelo a few months back. Clicking on the Fuerte San Jeronimo link will take you back to that post. Fort San Lorenzo was rebuilt of stone in 1680, which lasted until an attack in 1740. In 1768 it was once again rebuilt and in 1779 it was fortified. It is the remains of this fort that we explored on our visit. In 1980 UNESCO declared this and Fuerte San Jeronimo both World Heritage Sites. As I stood on the point looking over to the Chagres River and out into the Caribbean it was easy to imagine how the soldiers protected this area from the pirates. We were able to explore the moat, barracks, ammunition’s storage, and even get up close and personal with the cannons.  Enjoy a few pictures from our adventure. A picture paints a thousand words, but there is no way to visually or verbally describe this place, and do justice. This is a must see if you are ever fortunate enough to visit this area.

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Walking in the moat

Cannon stronghold

The Fort

Fort San Lonenzo

Chagres River over the Cliff

Don’t shoot

Guard Position

The East Side of the Point

Fort San Lorenzo

The Moat

Storage space

Rooms carved from the rock

Fort San Lorenzo

Fort San Lorenzo

Main Entry Point. The drawbridge would have been on the other side.

In other news, Jen and I bought a dune buggy. It is great for getting around the complex and beach riding. We have been having a blast with it. 

The first day with our buggy

We just had a great visit from our friends Ray and Diane. They came to escape the already cold Michigan Winter. We took them to some of our favorite and best adventure spots. Their visit is material for our next blog post. Please continue to follow our retirement adventure. Many people have told me that they no longer see our blog. We try to post it to Facebook, but they want us to pay them. Facebook considers our blog to be a business. LOL; I think advertising on our site has brought in less than $5.00 in our almost 3 years of posting. WordPress publishes our blog to our 2RetireInPanama Facebook page free, but most of you do not follow us there. Please click on the link to like and follow us there. The best way to continue to see our blog is to subscribe below and it will come to your email mailbox. We will never spam you, and you can unsubscribe any time. 

Greg and Jen

 Shelter Bay, Fort San Lorenzo Castle, and Fort Sherman Our friends Lyn and Ty Gilbert are always in favor of going on an adventure and we rarely refuse an opportunity to explore with them.