Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version))

by Tarrin P. Lupo

  Sitting down, around the great stump covered with boiled crab, the family started giggling as Archibald cheerfully counted, “One, two, three!" The family playfully grabbed at the food as fast as hungry orphans and competed for slices of the cornbread. Boisterous laughing ensued as Marian and Amos played tug a war with a crab until it broke in two. Such a ridiculous and vulgar display of manners only increased the family’s joy and laughter.

  Patrick was taken aback by this odd display. No prayer was said, no proper rotation of hierarchical serving was observed, just chaos. He sat there with a stunned look on his face as the family grabbed for crabs. Maximilian smiled, presenting Patrick with a crab and large piece of yellow bread. “I am faster than my father," the twin stated slyly. "Here, take these.” Patrick laughed loudly and dove into the cornbread, smearing it in his beard. The family chuckled as the smashing sounds of crab shells and wood hammers echoed in the air. Much laughter was heard from the dogwood for the rest of the evening as the libations continued to flow.

  Later in the evening, Archibald led Patrick to his hammock in the moonlight and bragged, “Be ready for a tour of Savannah tomorrow. I want to show you off."

  Patrick slowly mounted his hammock clumsily. “Months on a ship and I still can’t figure these damn contraptions out,” Patrick confessed with a grin as the two men laughed warmly.

  “You will," Archibald promised. "You can rest during second sleep until the seasons change.”

  As with most cultures around the world, the night was split into first and second sleep. This tradition was carried over from the old world to the colonies. First sleep was about an hour after dinner until the witching hour of midnight. Second sleep was from midnight till sunrise. The late hours where used for just about anything. Many chores were done as well as hobbies. Many times the women knitted or prepared food for the next day's meal. The men completed chores that were too difficult to do in the day’s heat like late night wood chopping or hauling. In the Freeman house, it was also a great time to read and they burned through barrels of whale oil in their lamps.

  As Archibald retired to the house, Patrick smiled as he gently swung himself fast asleep in his hammock.

  * * *

  A mosquito bite on his nose welcomed Patrick to the waking world. The bite was already welting up. He noticed his hands and face were covered with more bites and angry welts. With an ungraceful maneuver, he fell out of his hammock and onto the pile of scrap metal with a cacophonous crash. Amazed he found no lacerations from his fall, he considered himself protected by good spirits.

  Patrick took himself around the back of the shed and made water. The merry libations were now draining his fluids. Although the sun was just rising in the morning sky, the heat already overtook him and he immediately started to sweat through his linen vest. The new blacksmith amused himself by trying to pee on flies in a stagnant puddle. Mr. Freeman soon came around the corner and joined him in the morning urination.

  “We start early around here to avoid the heat," Archibald explained. "I want to give you a tour so when I send you to fetch errands you can navigate the town. Let’s explore Savannah, or as the rest of the colonies call it, the Scoundrel’s Haven. This small swamp-town has also been called the Sanctuary for the Bandit, Swindler, Murderer and Whore. Shall we go explore this convict’s paradise?”

  The men walked out onto the dirt thoroughfare and started their walk into town.

  “Savannah is set up as a Military base. All the lots are about the same size. It is supposed to promote equality, no man be better than his neighbors." Archibald smiled, "Unless of course you’re a high ranking officer." He continued, "Oglethorpe knew about all the fire problems in London so this city is mainly grids and open spaces. This also is smart for defense from the Spanish and the savages. The town pretty much revolves around four main areas called wards. There are also two new Wards being developed. Each ward has a central square and is surrounded by trust and tything lots. The trust lots are for government builds and churches and such. The tything lots are used for homes and each home also gets a lot of five acres at the edge of town. I will take you around the wards and give you a guide of each.

  The layout of Savannah's wards

  “The ward we live in is called Decker Ward and we live here on the Strand. The square in the middle is called Market Square and all the town’s commerce comes through here. You see all the carts of vendors setting up, mainly they are African freemen. This colony does not allow slavery. It has the town split. The king’s subjects are jealous of all the riches that the Carolinas are now enjoying on the backs of slaves. Others of His Majesty’s servants found the practice morally appalling. Every year the people try to bend the ear of the trustees that run this town to allow the practice. I fear the Trustees’ are turning sympathies to the slavers.” As Archibald cautioned, Patrick nodded. Freeman continued, “Basically any kind of foods, services, or commerce can be found in this square and Ward and you will spend most of your hours here.

  “If you go down over there into the tall grass a ways, you will come to a large crepe myrtle that has been split in two by a lightning bolt. Never seen anything like it. The tree is still alive and growing as two trees now. Ever since that myrtle got burned in two, the townsfolk call that area Thunderbolt.”

  Freeman motioned down a corner to Patrick, “Let us turn down Mr. Thomas Broughton’s street until we come to Derby Ward. It is named after one of those fat cats, the Honorable James, the Tenth Earl of Derby.” Archibald mocked the pompousness by bowing.

  Archibald led Patrick down a dusty road to a square that opened in front of them revealing a large dirt space. The area was busy with activity; surveyors pulled string between wooden stakes marking lines, a crew of shirtless and sweaty men were digging a large hole as a group of well dressed aristocrats and a minister in a black smock and white wig patted each other’s backs and shook each others' hands. Archibald informed Patrick of the Johnson Square. It was named after the generous and well-liked royal governor of SC and it was the hub of Anglican activities. They watched as a congregation of devout Anglicans was breaking ground to build themselves a church.

  "I am not a gossiping kind,” he ensured Patrick, “but so much scandal has occurred in this Ward around those pastors.” With a sly smile and wink for Patrick, he continued, “So let me not tell you what happened. The very first minister named Henry Herbert died when he was returning on Oglethorpe’s favorite ship, the Anne. He was heading back to England and his merciful God struck him down for reasons unsuspected. Then they had Mr. Quincy stand a short tenure till the third pastor arrived. His name was John Wesley, and lad, let me tell you this scandalous tale!” The wigged man laughed. “Well the beautiful Sophia Hopkey was to be married but a misunderstanding and folly caused Pastor Wesley to refuse to publish her banns of marriage in the church. Thereafter, she ran over to South Carolina in disgrace and got nuptials done there. Pastor Wesley was made the fool by this and refused the new couple communion when they returned. Such a public insult this was that Sophia’s husband sued the pastor for defamation. Have you ever heard such a thing, suing a man of God? The resulting and embarrassing controversy caused such uproar in his parish that they asked him to return to England in thirty-seven. Funny thing is, a man told me he is starting some new Methodist Church in England that is already wildly popular. Oh those religious folks and their stories make me laugh."

  As Archibald collected himself from laughter, he changed the subject and suggested, "Let us turn up this street until we run into the Heathcoat Ward." The men slowly walked on with Archibald continuing to point out the sights and characters of Savannah.

  “The ward is named for George Heathcoat. I know, not very original. He is also one of the trustees. Although Savannah preaches the merits of equality, this is where all the high society resides. The square we are walking by is called St. James and at night is home to some wonderful music and arts. My favorite wandering bard sings here. His name is Wes Loper. We must remember
to try and catch him one night. I'm sure you'll enjoy him very much. Rumors also bound that a troop of actors might come and perform here in the square.”

  Patrick could only nod. So much information of his new home town was beginning to overwhelm him but Archibald continued on.

  “Well then let’s make our way to the Percival Ward. This ward and square are named after Viscount Percival. Again, I know our founders were not very creative with the names,” Archibald cracked. "This is Jew territory and where the ladies of pleasure reside. There's not supposed to be Jews here at all, but that Dr. Nunis, the man who purchased the services of your goliath friend, he is the common man's town doctor and won favor for his kind. If you have bags of silver and are of the proper social class you get an appointment with Dr. Tailfer, but he would never be seen with the likes of us. It took no time to break that no-Jew law because the second boat to land had forty-two Jews on it. Oglethorpe and the trustees’ never made them leave because these Jews were refugees from Spain and Portugal. They had sympathy for their plight. The trustee’s then decided to only ban Roman Catholics, in fear of them assisting the damn Spaniards that keep attacking outside of this town.”

  Archibald then straightened his shirt and spoke as if he was very serious but a faint smile could be seen on his lips. “As far as the whores go, well, officially, there are none here. The upstanding, church-going wives would have seen them in the stocks of course, but all the men deny they are here. To know the truth one just needs to look at all the soldiers and sailors in this town. Of course any military attracts whores like honey to bees.”

  As if on cue, two of Patrick’s former crew mates then stumbled out of a house. A woman in a worn, red dress unceremoniously shoved them out the back entrance. She then escorted them out and exchanged gazes with Patrick. A warm inviting smile beamed from her as she waived her handkerchief at the two blacksmiths. She then hiked up her dress revealing a tattooed ankle, slipping a silver round down the side of her red shoe. She slowly sashayed her backside left to right, left to right, left to right, smiling over her shoulder, giving the blacksmiths an eyeful of motion. At the door, she blew a gentle kiss at Patrick before returning to her duties. Patrick immediately felt his desire swelling in his pants. Such a blatant display of sexuality after weeks on a ship and years in a prison cell overwhelmed him.

  Archibald smiled at the younger man, “Ah lad. That is the mysterious April Sky. I know it is an odd name. I've never heard of someone named after a month but I am fairly certain it is not the name she was christened with. With that stated April Sky is the most powerful madam in all of Savannah and no woman dares whore here without her blessing and paying her homage. She is the scourge of Savannah’s proper women but the men do really love her girls, so she is left to her craft unmolested. The rumor is she used to run the seas with pirates before all the pirates were hunted down and killed. I am told every inch of her body except her face is covered with tattoos. It is said she is highly superstitious and uses them to ward off the devil." Archibald then warned, "If you want to keep your temple pure you best stay away from that harlot.”

  Patting Patrick's shoulder, Archibald then announced, “Well that sex parade is over. Come along. There are two other wards under construction I need to show you."

  The two men recommenced their journey with Freeman pointing out the sights. "Over that way is the Upper New Square. The other one over that way is another that they have not decided on a name yet, it seems to change every hour. I reckon they must have run out of honorable trustees to bestow the honor on," Archibald poked Patrick in the ribs.

  “Beyond there, continuing through the wild to the southwest is Fort Argyle,” Archibald continued. “I’m sure you’ve guessed it’s named after someone. John, Duke of Argyle, and personal friend to Oglethorpe. It’s supposed to help offer protection from the Spanish and from Indian raiders but it’s never been manned properly.” Archibald stopped and seemed lost in thought. “A lot of men from the Scottish town of Darien rotate manning and running patrols there.” He brought his attention back to the here and now and they started walking again.

  1740 Map of Savannah and Fort Argyle

  “Savannah is growing so fast it seems like they move the bloody Palisades outward every week. Let us walk this way toward the river," Mr. Freeman instructed, "and I will show you the exotic plants over in the trustees’ garden.”

  The men wandered to the bluff and came across a garden adorned with a small herb house. “This is Oglethorpe’s pride and joy, the Trustees’ garden. It is said to be modeled after the Chelsea Botanical garden in London. The mental bastard spent a king’s ransom on having plants delivered to him from the four corners of the world. All sorts of exotic plants were first soiled here, but the first frost killed most of them. There was apple, pear, olive, fig, coffee trees, and cotton. Bamboo plants, indigo, coconut palms, hemp, oranges and many various herbs to assist a doctor. The money crop was intended to be mulberry trees for silkworms. Oglethorpe dreamed he could use them to feed silkworm and spin silk. The garden used to be well tended when Francis Moore was here, but it is now falling quickly into disarray. This is typical of anything owned by government," Archibald spit. "Nobody’s ever held accountable and anything the king touches goes to piss. You would never see a farmer let his own land go that way. It's a damn shame.” Freeman looked longingly at the failing garden and shaking his head silently with disgust.

  “What’s that mound of rocks in the middle of the garden for?” Patrick inquired.

  “That is a pyramid burial mound of one of the Yamacraw savages,” Archibald answered. “The Yamacraw locals were very helpful to Oglethorpe. In return, he respects their ways. He even promised their chief not to disturb any resting souls.”

  "Ah," Patrick mouthed with understanding. There were so many new, alien customs and strange sights. It was the only response he could muster.

  Archibald continued still gazing upon the garden. “Now all that is really growing well are the oranges, apples, and the hemp. Us regular Savannahians refer to this place as Oglethorpe’s folly! Now don’t let any of the lobsterbacks hear you saying such or you will be hanging from a gallows. That Oglethorpe does not care to be mocked.”

  Patrick nodded earnestly. He wanted to impress upon his new master he understood. Archibald could sense Patrick's seriousness so he joked, "Well that will be one shilling for the tour. You'll have to pay me in credit I am assuming." Patrick smiled and Archibald concluded, “Let us get you to the tailor now.”

  The men went to the Broughton side of market square and knocked on the door of a humble house. A large breasted maiden answered the door hastily. Her hair was disheveled and her dress was hugging her sweaty chest. She clutched a stuffed linen ball full of needles close to her full chest.

  Archibald removed his hat and politely inquired, “Good morrow, Prudence. Is your father here? I need my friend here fitted for some work linens.”

  She loudly cussed up, “No, the bastard reds got him working for free again mending their damn coats in their quarters. Those heavy wool red coats are made by that company in Charles Towne called the South Carolina Independent Company. They make fine wear but the buttons are always ripping off or the sleeves been singed by lamp lights. Those red coats catch, they go up like a Viking funeral pyre.” Prudence was visibly upset and spouted, “The arrogant bastards! Making him come to them and fix their wares for gratis!”

  “Quiet, love. Your tongue is too loose in open air,” Archibald hushed Prudence.

  “I just hate those red leeches so much! I hope the bastards get cock sores from April Sky’s whores," Prudence responded with a little more restraint. She sighed and remembered the business at hand. “What are you two larks standing around for? Well, show him in and I can get his numbers.”

  Both men looked nervously at each other. “Um, ma’am, we cannot enter the domicile of a lady with no man home,” Archibald nervously explained.

  “For the Lord's sake!" she exclaimed. "Fine! I’l
l do it in the yard to reassure the world that you two not be molesters. Christ!”

  Patrick was instructed to stand on a stump while she used marked cords of hemp to measure.

  “This is Patrick, our new indenture. He will be smithing with me. He needs hemp fiber if possible, something sturdy and protective around fire,” Archibald propositioned.

  “Yes, I know how to make a bloody smithing outfit for, fuck’s sake. You know I am a grown woman?” she snapped.

  “Yes, and such a refined and proper young lady you grew into,” Archibald smirked.

  “Fuck you, damn Scottish, dress-wearing drunk. I hear your Scottish brogue you so desperately trying to conceal,” she warned him.

  “Stand still will you!” she snapped at Patrick as she ran her hand up his inseam.

  This was the closest a woman had ever been to his crotch and he was instantly erect. It was so unnatural for a man of his age to be completely inexperienced in the ways of women. He found his impure thoughts overwhelming since the moment he landed in Savannah. Being exposed to so many of the soft gender was wreaking havoc on his senses and concentration. He tried his hardest not to squirm on the stump.

  “I got all I need," Prudence stated. "Come back in two weeks for a final fitting and me father will figure out the silver with you. Also, I would like to come call on Heather tonight to join Mari Anna and me in listening to Wes’s fiddle,” she half asked, half told.