A Journal of The Experiment at Jamaica (The Neville Burton 'Worlds Apart' Series Book 2)

by Georges Carrack

  Your Loving Fiancé,

  Neville

  Neville’s curiosity burned without relief through the next day as he worked to conclude the business of the convoy. He was entreated to sign release documents for several of the convoy’s ships. Most wanted no confusion by any British patrol about the validity of their permission from the King to sail from Jamaica - or depart from the lawfully assembled convoy - or carry unlawful goods - or transport passengers, etc, etc. Finally, on a muggy Tuesday morning, he was free to visit the city.

  The town of Norfolk was interesting, though small. It was unlike anything in England, Toulon, or even Jamaica, although he had expected a similar colonial construction. It seems most like St. Johns in Newfoundland, he considered, but with even less stone. The buildings are almost entirely of wood, as are the sidewalks, where there are any. Ah, here’s the street.

  He found the building, with a large sign across the top proclaiming ‘Elliott Burton Shipping Company’. His heart skipped a beat. The building is big for this little settlement, indeed.

  Could it possibly be that his father had jumped to this same era of time, and that during Neville’s lifetime he had established this business in Norfolk as a civilian? How would he have gotten here? I must go in. I cannot walk past and not investigate.

  A gentleman opened the door to exit as Neville reached for the handle, causing him to start. Why do I feel such anxiety about entering a civilian business? Such pointless feelings.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said to the man who came out. The man stared at him strangely for a second or two, passed him the door, and walked out.

  “May I help you, captain?” asked a young man behind a long counter-like desk. After a quick glance, followed by a jerk of the head and a studious glare, he went back to his work behind the counter while Neville looked ‘round the room. There were numerous papers on a large posting-board on one wall: sailing schedules and cargo lists. The young man added, “We are always looking for experienced officers. Might you care to apply?”

  “I don’t think so. No, thank you. Is the proprietor here?”

  “Certainly, sir. May I say who’s calling?”

  “Yes, of course. Captain Neville Burton.” This statement caused the young man another jerk of the head - up to study his visitor even more closely. He appeared to decide that there was no threat posed by this young captain who carried the same name as the owner, if it really was his true name. “Of the convoy frigate?” he asked.

  “Aye.”

  “Follow me, please.”

  The young man ushered him to an open door at the end of a short hallway. A man inside said, “Step into my office, captain.”

  The occupant, a middle-aged man, rose as Neville walked in and offered a hand. He was a stocky figure and handsome, Neville thought he would have to admit, with bright blue eyes. Except for graying hair at the temples and small wrinkles emanating from the corners of his eyes and mouth, Neville felt as if he were looking in the mirror. Particularly the eyes.

  There was a white statesman’s wig hanging on a peg over a filing cabinet, but the brown-haired man was not wearing one. Neville speculated that the wig would be used only for very formal occasions in this rustic settlement. A small polished wooden desk plaque was engraved ‘E. Burton’. Elliott re-sat himself at the desk after shaking hands, and offered a side chair. They took a brief awkward moment to size each other up

  “Neville Burton, you say?” Elliott began, “from where. may I ask?”

  “Just in from Jamaica with the convoy.”

  “I must thank you for that. Master Caward spoke well of you. You don’t look like a Jamaican, though. You sound English. If I don’t miss my guess on that accent, you’re from Suffolk?”

  “Aye, sir, I am. Thurston, near Bury-St. Edmunds. Do you know it?”

  “I do,” he responded. “I spent some time there.”

  Neville was sensing a rising anxiety on the part of his host, and could not help recognizing the same within himself. His first thought was – Thurston? Nobody spends time in Thurston. It’s simply too small, and there’s no reason to be there unless it’s your home.

  Outrageous as his next question was, he decided to rush forward. “Then you might know the Burtons there, then: my mother Ellen? Her maiden name was Grayson. My father, of the same name as you, was a British navy lieutenant who was lost at sea the year when I was two. When I met your Master Caward he gave me directions here, and I couldn’t help but stop in.”

  Neville felt the time stand still. The man stared at him, obviously not knowing what he should say.

  “Is it you?” Neville finally asked. “Lost in a battle at sea at Cape St. Vincent? If it is you, you may say what you wish, as I have plainly followed by the same process – myself lost at sea off the coast of Holland.” So far, Neville had said nothing of dates a hundred years in the future – only of names and the words ‘lost at sea’.

  Elliott sat quietly behind his desk, still staring at his visitor.

  “I’m sorry,” Neville said at last. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Thank you for seeing me.” He made a move to stand.

  Elliott took a deep breath and motioned Neville to remain seated. “How is she?” he asked. “How is your mother?”

  After that question, which a man might ask anyone, Neville sensed a crack in the dike, and decided he could go further. “In 1797 she was quite well. In her glory, I must say. She is a beautiful woman about to remarry after all this time.”

  Elliott did not flinch at the date. “And your sister Elizabeth?” he asked.

  Now there was no question. A smile grew on Neville’s face that he could not suppress. “She is stunning, father,” he answered. “Married to an army officer, and you have a grandson. He was two when I saw him last. That’s almost three years ago now. I went home on leave, then went aboard Venerable, where I served fourteen months until I was - what do you call it? - moved in time? To May of 1690. He’ll be talking, won’t he?” They stood, walked ‘round the desk, and embraced.

  “So much to discuss,” said Elliott.

  20 - “Folklore”

  Their Majesties’ Ship Experiment

  At Norfolk Roads, Virginia Colony

  12 August, 1691

  My Dearest Maria,

  The time here is passing far more quickly than I had ever expected, I had thought that as Outsiders here we would not be very Welcome, but that has not been the case. As I have written, Wasp and Beagle have Departed as escort to the convoy ships who have not stayed here, since this area to the Northe has not shown itself to have the Danger of Pirates. We are left here as Defenders of this quiet Port in the event they dare enter this Place. I am glad of it because it allows us muche time for Repairs and because the local People appreciate it greatly. We are muche assisted and even Entertained with food and good cheer, and I am surprised to find that some of our Company are so gifted in song that their presence is insisted upon at Sunday Churche. If we suffer any desertion here, it will be because our men find it such a Desirable Place and because any Healthy and Strong man is muche needed here. It would be very easy to hide in the Woodes.

  I am so excited that I have the opportunity to know my father, whom I never knew before as I have told you, and he has Helped to introduce our Company to the local People.

  The weather continues hot and Humid, but we have had no Great Storme, and I pray you have not either.

  I am learning very Muche about these northern colonies and about Father’s Business, whiche is quite a fascinating thing. He has been successful for more than fifteen years now, and I hope to bring you Northe one day after we are wed to meet him and see all this.

  I have not spoken of it to Father yet, but I believe he will be able to help send our Shipment on to England – the small tobacco boxes. Give my regards to your Father.

  I miss you both horribly, and I remain, Your Loving Fiancé,

  Neville

  The two Burtons were sitting in Elliott’s back office a week a
fter the convoy’s arrival reviewing some details of the shipping company when Neville decided to change the subject.

  “I find this awkward to speak of, Father, but it is a subject we must discuss,” he began, “You have a wonderful family here. Jane is very much like Mother, and this Elizabeth much like your first Elizabeth was a few years ago. I can’t say whether Joshua is like me at all, as he is younger. Please don’t misunderstand me; I empathize as you know only I could. Does Jane know of your history – or future – or whatever it is? Does she know that you did not begin here? It is not that I wish to pry into your affairs, but I have a similar problem. At home in Bury St. Edmunds I had a girlfriend; Mary Mitchell. We were quite young; she thirteen and I fourteen. You might even remember the Mitchells on College St.?”

  Elliott answered quickly, “No. For me it is a long time ago, and I didn’t live there, either, remember. We lived in Ipswich when you were born.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, anyway, I suspect I would have stuck with her and been married one day. She was a lovely girl. As you know, however, I have not even been able to write, so I suspect I am counted as lost at sea as you were. It must be dreadfully hard on Mother and Elizabeth as well as Mary. But now I come to it. Finding you here gives me reason to believe that I will remain as you have. If you are still here after nineteen years then there is no reason I should not be also – but then there’s no reason for any of this, is there? I expect you came to the same conclusion I have; that I might as well assume I will stay here forever and make a life of it. I am beating around the point, I think. So now, then, for public appearance, how can you tell your children – or your wife or mine or anyone else - that you are my father, and still be a good man?”

  “Your wife? You didn’t mention a wife. You said you had a girlfriend in Bury.”

  “No wife yet, Father, but you know I can’t go back to Mary. She’s not even born yet. I am engaged to the most beautiful woman on this planet, Maria Fuller in Jamaica, and we will be wed next August. I have written to her of finding my father, but how do I tell her of your family? What could she think? You left my mother with babes in arms. I have said nothing of the time change, and I believe I have said nothing of mother, though I also never mentioned being raised by anyone else – only that I came from England and never knew you. That’s quite strange now that I think about it.

  “I am not sure how to explain our situation or your family here. I only told Maria once before, when we first met, that I didn’t know you as I was growing up. If I now tell her you have a family here, it would certainly seem to her that you left us when I was young. It would be scandalous! Did you have this problem with Jane when you courted? Does she know of this?”

  “I know your problem – I live it. You presume that Jane may know, but that I certainly wouldn’t want to tell the children. A few children’s words to others and the neighbors would think someone in the family odd, if not dangerous or heretical. If that’s what you wanted to ask, then you’re right. I have had to concoct a story about my past, for the neighbors and for the children. I’ve told them that I don’t know – don’t remember. My story, which is mostly true, is that I was set ashore from a merchant ship in Boston after being found at sea on wreckage near Gibraltar. I was hauled aboard unconscious, wearing my British lieutenant’s uniform. I left out the part about the uniform.”

  “Horrid headache, yes?”

  “You, too, eh? Piercing, yes. I have no idea how long I was unconscious. A ship would never reverse her course for one shipwreck survivor, so she proceeded on her way to Boston. My uniform was in tatters, so they clothed me with what they had, and by the time I was set off in Boston I was a civilian. Realizing I was in a different place in time, I had no one to whom I might write. I worked there for a few months in the only trade I knew – sailing ships. One passage paid off here. Once I met Jane, I was not about to leave. Her father, who had started this business, passed it to me on his deathbed in order to care for his daughter. She was his only issue and his wife had already passed. I changed the business name to mine, and here we are.”

  “That’s it, then. You had no memory of a past, and so did not know whether to return or where to write. Mother raised me in the understanding that you were lost at sea, but is now... ‘gone’, I suppose I could say, and leave it at that. Since she is ‘gone’ there is no scandalous question of divorce. No one would ever have looked for you. A tragedy that should work all ‘round. Your story is my story. I can now be your children’s half-brother. Do you agree?”

  Elliott thought for a moment, and answered, “I would like to think on it a little more, but I have found that usually the first idea is the best. Come back in when you can get away and we’ll go over it again.”

  “And what’s wrong with the name Neville? You named your second daughter Elizabeth, but your second son Joshua.”

  Elliott frowned and looked to the floor.

  “Oh, I’ve see I have said something rude. I am sorry, Sir.”

  “You might as well know. My second son was Neville. He was first before Elizabeth, but did not survive this rustic place. I imagine you find us a bit backward even now, but fifteen years ago it was not much more than a stockaded fort with a nice harbor. With you here, my Neville has returned – in more ways than one. It seems God’s Will.”

  Neville blushed. “Thank you, Sir. ‘Till later, then.”

  “The place you recommended for careening the ship seems quite adequate, Sir,” announced Neville when he returned four days later and was being ushered to the back office of the Elliott Burton Shipping Co., “and I have set the men to it.” He was happy to have something to say in front of the counter-man that raised no suspicions. Inside, Elliott gave his agreement on their story, and they made plans for Neville to meet the family.

  August and September followed pleasantly, during which time Neville became family with Jane and the children. He was always welcome at their table, and politely endured Elliott’s education regarding Norfolk. Elliott, as a leading merchant, had been drawn into local political affairs. “It truly is home for me, Neville, and I am very busy with it. Due to our growth, we are now subdividing Lower Norfolk County into Norfolk and Princess Anne Counties to better govern. This town was founded in 1619. It’s one of the oldest settlements in the colonies. One of its first leading citizens, who came here from King’s Lynn in East Anglia, suggested the name. You know the English town near Norfolk. Oh, I bore you, for sure…”

  Their Majesties’ Ship Experiment

  At Norfolk, Virginia Colony,

  24 August, 1691

  My Dearest Maria,

  I had not written of this before in fear that some ill might come of it, I had worried terribly about my Father’s life here, but find it a true Blessing for him. He is re-Married and has two young Children – Elizabeth and Joshua. There is no scandal to it, as I shall tell you in Detail when I am Home. He arrived in the colonies some nineteen years ago with no memory of his past, having been fished from the sea. I believe that I told you he was lost at Sea. He has made a new life, as we will do in Jamaica – or even here if we wish. I cannot wait to tell you the joy of it.

  I have set the men to careen the ship and remove the Weede from her bottom, which is a good deal of work to do a good job. This and other ship repairs will entertain them for some weeks and keep them from Mischief. If they sit idle for months here with nothing to do I fear the unwanted consequences of it.

  Father’s involved in local politics, as you might suspect of a prosperous businessman like your Father, and between this and his Business he cannot spare me as much time as I would like, but it is understandable.

  Father and my Stepmother Jane – that is a very strange thing for me to write – are helping me with your list of supplies and gifts. Muche of it is not readily available here in this Settlement, but can be obtained in shorte time from nearby colonies if you own a Shipping Company.

  The weather continues hot and Humid, and we did have a Serious Storme three days
ago which pushed several of the smaller ships onto the Strand and destroyed a few of the smaller houses, but there is no Damage to Experiment other than a few small things Carried Away from the decks, and there is no One from her hurt.

  I love you dearly, and I remain, Your Loving Fiancé,

  Neville

  “There’s something I forgot to tell you, Father. It’s not much, but it seemed important at the time. I’ve lost your short sword – the one you left home. I had to leave it aboard my ship when we were captured by the French. I replaced it with this in an even bigger battle,” he concluded, showing his father the French one he now carried.

  “It doesn’t signify at all, son. I had forgotten it, and I’m not a warrior anymore anyway.”

  “It seemed to be my connection with you, but that’s all changed now. I have something I need to ask of you, though – a favor, I would prefer to discuss at your offices, Sir.” Neville had reached the point of complete trust in his father’s honour.

  “I have a shipment I brought with me. It is a great deal of money – Spanish gold taken from a pirated vessel and given to me by the governor because it was my ship that recaptured the stolen one; more ‘ignored in my favor’ rather than ‘given to me’, but it is not illegally gained. I have corresponded with Hoare’s Bank in London. Have you heard of them?”

  “I have indeed. They have an exceptional reputation, and they have a new programme ….”

  “Yes, I know of it,” Neville interrupted anxiously, “and that is where my shipment will go. Can you help me arrange to send it?”

  “Of course. You know that shipping things is exactly what I do. Why do you even wonder about asking me?”

  “I wish to take a precaution, Father, and I ask the same of you. Despite everything we have said to each other, and your experience of nineteen years, I cannot help but wonder if I will be here in this time until I die. That’s why I’m sending this shipment to Hoare’s. If the Good Lord sends me to another time – not in the past, for that would do me no good at all - but in the future, my account will remain at Hoare’s and I will have money to live. If I remain here forever, I can get it whenever I wish. What I ask of you is this: write my mother a letter telling her what has happened and that you and I met and of your joy at knowing she has had a good life. Most importantly, give your blessing on her marriage to Mr. Blake. Put it with this shipment in a sealed envelope; write instructions for its delivery to Mrs. Ellen Blake in Bury-St. Edmunds in the year 1800 or so. I cannot command you to do this latter, but I ask it.”